Letters To Persons by Saint Francis de Sales

T.
UL
pi
CD
CO
JOHN M. KELLY LIBRARY
Donated by
The Redemptorists of
the Toronto Province
from the Library Collection of
Holy Redeemer College, Windsor
University of
St. Michael s College, Toronto
HOLY REDEEMER LIBRARY.
LIBRARY
OF
ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.
I. LETTERS TO PERSONS IN THE WORLD.

LIBRARY OF ST. FRANCIS DE SALES,
WORKS OF THIS DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH.
KY THE
REV. HENRY BENEDICT MACKEY, O.S.B.
UNDER THE DIRECTION AND PATRONAGE OF

HIS IXKUXSHIP THE
RIGHT REV. JOHN CUTHBERT HEDLEY, O.S.B.
Bishop of Newport and Mencria.
:.-LETTERS TO PERSONS IN THE WORLD.
WITH PREFACE BY BISHOP HEDLEY.
The Perfection of Charity is the Perfection of Life." Book vi. c. 52.
NEW YORK, CINCINNATI, AND ST. LOUIS:

BENZIGER BROTHERS,
PRINTERS TO THE HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE.
PKEFACE.
MANY besides myself will have heard with great

satisfaction that itcontemplation to prepare a
is in
complete and careful English translation of the works

of St. Francis de Sales. The position of St. Francis, as a
teacher of the Universal Church, has long been assured.
But the recent Pontifical decree, which has enrolled
him among those who are formally called Doctors of
the Church, has directed the attention of all devout
Christians to a more exhaustive examination of all
that he has written. Those who use the English tongue

may well desire to have an adequate English edition
of a Saint who one of the great devotional teachers
is
of the Church during the time which has elapsed since

the Council of Trent.
The two opposite rocks which threaten the soul
which aspired to devotion used to be put down as
Jansenism on the one hand, and laxity on the other.
Jansenism is not perhaps a living danger in these days.
The winter of its bitter reign has gradually given way
before the warmth of the teachings of St. Alphonsus.
No more powerful element can be found in modern
spiritual activity than the devotion to the Sacred
Humanity of Our Lord which is enforced by this great

VI Preface.
Besides bringing back the children of the

Saint.
Church out of the cold into the warmth and familiarity
of their Father s house, it has done much to preserve
degenerating into mere duty,

devotion from or the
or love of one another, or self-

worship of principle,
of self-
respect developments to which the advance
consciousness has given great prominence. It has
the simple by the thought that the highest

encouraged
form of religious worship is easily within their reach^
and it has reminded the learned and the educated that
child-like devotion to the Incarnation and Passion of
our Saviour is for the vast majority the only safe path.
St. Francis de Sales, it is needless to say, wrote before

Jansenism had infected devotion. Neither did he write
and preach against laxity of morals, or licentiousness.
He made war against sin, without doubt, as other
preachers have done. But his special work was not
denunciation of evil or the threatening of the fires of
hell. He some serene and clear-eyed mes-
was like
seugcr from heaven who alights upon a confusion and

chaos, and whose gentle look and magic voice bring
back order and a new harmony. His task was the
simplification of Christian devotion. In other words,
it was the shortening of the Christian s path to his
last end.
Nothing is gained by exaggerating the state into

which devotion had fallen at the appearance in the
world of St. Francis de Sales. The Church never
grows old, and the influence of the Holy Spirit reigns-
and rules in every age. When Francis was
writing
Preface. vii
those fugitive letters to Madame de Charmoisy which

he afterwards expanded into the Introduction a la vie
devote, the writings of great modern spiritual teachers
were already known to the world. The works of Louis
of Granada, of St. Theresa, and of St. John of the
Cross circulated, at least on this side of the Alps.
In the preface to the treatise De V Amour de Dieu,
he himself gives a list of a dozen authors who had
written devoutly and learnedly on the very subject
he was going to treat. The names of more than half
of these are almost unknown at the present day ;
but
the mere enumeration proves that spiritual subjects
were understood, and well understood, in the early
years of the seventeenth century. Not to speak of
the "
Imitation of Christ/ we must not forget that the

f
*
Spiritual Combat" was at that very time coming into

use in every part of Europe from Spain to Southern Italy.
The special evil of the time was not that devotion was not
correctly understood by those whose office it was to teach
it ;
it was this that, in French countries at least, few
understood what to say about the ordinary lives of the
noble and the gentle. On the one hand, there was a
feeling among the best ecclesiastics that Court life was.
beyond redemption or improvement. On the other
hand, the Catholic religion was upheld by the State ;

its Bishops were great personages, its festivals were
honoured, and ceremonies were largely

its functions
attended, and many of its preachers were followed by

a, fashionable crowd. The noble gentleman or lady
therefore, who wished to follow the Court," and yet
"
viii Preface.
to be a good Christian, had great difficulty in knowing

how to behave. Many confessors would hardly give
them absolution ;
whilst others were too easy and let
them do as they pleased. Court life or in other
words, a life of ease, wealth, distinction and refine
ment was, and is, a necessity. No doubt such a life
is fullof danger. But the worst possible result that

could ensue would be to drive a whole class into reck
lessness by telling them they could not possibly be
saved. And hardly better could it be to encourage
worldly men and women, who merely went to Mass
and to fashionable sermons, in the idea that such ex
ternal practices were real religion. It was to prevent,
or put a stop to, two nearly related evils that

these
St. Francis de Sales wrote and preached. He has been
slightingly called the Apostle of the

"
upper classes."
The phrase sounds odious enough; but in his days it
was very significant. And when we remember that it
was chiefly to make a gentleman a true and humble

Christian that he exercised his Apostolate, we need not
object to giving him the title. Christianity is a great
leveller of class distinctions ; and no one has shown
men more clearly that they are all brothers in God and
in Christ than St. Francis.
There is a letter of his,* addressed to a young gen

tleman who was about to enter upon Court "
life,"
which contains all St. Francis s mind on this

subject.
It was written in 1610, that is, about two years after
the publication of the Introduction, when his thought
* See Book IV. 2.
Preface. ix
was mature and his idea had been well thought

out :
he begins,
"
Sir/you are about to hoist sail and

"
venture on the high seas of this world you are going ;
to Court am
not so frightened as some people
I
are. I do not consider such a state of life as abso
lutely themost dangerous of any, for persons of mag

nanimity and true manliness." Then, after giving him
various points of advice, he brings in (as he almost
inevitably does on such occasions) the example of his

model and hero, St. Louis of France Imagine that :
"
you were a courtier of St. Louis. Well did the holy
king like a man to be brave, courageous, generous,
good-humoured, courteous, polite, candid, and refined;

but he liked him to be a Christian far better. Had
you been near him you would have seen him laugh
amiably when there was occasion for it, and speak out
boldly when it was needful ; he would have taken care
that all his surroundings were noble and dignified, like
a second Solomon, in order that the royal dignity
might be kept up and a moment afterwards he would
;
have been seen serving the poor in the hospital ; in a

word, he joined civil virtue with Christian virtue, and
allied majesty with humility. The truth is, one must
understand that no one should be manly because
less
he is a Christian, or less Christian because he is a man.

But to be this he must be a really good Christian
that is to say, very devout, very pious, and, if possible,
a spiritual man ; for, as St. Paul says, the spiritual
man discerneth all things ; he knows when, and in
x Preface.
what order, and in what way to practise each different

virtue as required. This short extract seems to con
3>
tain, not an
abridgment of St. Francis s spiritual
teaching, but the very spirit and essence of it all.
Few, perhaps, have well considered what the benefits

are which it has conferred upon Christianity in Europe.
Christianity intended to sanctify the world, and not

is
to abolish the world ; and the world is not, and can
never be, the cloister. For the generality of men of

the world the true apostle is he who makes the way
of perfection as easy and as smooth as it can be made
without sacrificing safety. This is what St. Francis
has, by the testimony of the Church herself, done
better than any other writer. It is true that both
his language, his form, and his method have a history
and a pedigree. His language seems to be modelled
on Joinville s life of St. Louis. His form is that of
the "
Spiritual Combat/ His method, with its four

qualities of familiarity, clearness, unction, and illus
tration, is to a very great extent the reflex of his own
most original and happy genius but, if it had a pre ;
decessor, I should be disposed to look for him among

the Italian Humanists of the sixteenth
century.
Humanism, as far as it affected
general literature,,
mainly consisted in the bringing back into philosophy
the flowing and conversational method of Plato and
Cicero in the place of the formal of Aris argument
totle and the Schoolmen. It was the substitution of
talk for proof; easy, polished serious talk, if you
please, but still talk. One need merely recall the
Preface. xi
familiar namesErasmus, of Sir Thomas More, of

of
Fisher (who in happier times might himself have been
a Francis de Sales), and then recollect that the models
of these writers flourished in Italy, from Bessarion to
Angelo Poliziani. When St. Francis, at the end of

the sixteenth century, studied in Padua, he lived in
the very midst of a society which made it its pride
and its boast to model its own literary efforts on the
wit, the polish, and the gracefulness of the ancient
Greeks and Romans. There is no doubt that the
style and method of our holy Doctor was affected by
these surroundings. But he remained himself, amidst
all the seductions of humanistic literature. If any
one takes the trouble to compare the draft of pious
resolutions which he drew up at Padua with his latest
he will see that the youthful and
spiritual letters,
studied elaboration of the former have given way to
a equally polished, but strong in that native
style
force and mother- wit which were the Saint s own. He
writes, even in his Amour de Dieu, which is the
most philosophical of his works, with an ease, a grace*
and a polish which leave his favourite Seneca far be
hind. But the strong, earnest and serious purpose
which pervades every prevents the least suspicion
line
of fine writing; whilst the intense devotion which

flames out from his elaborated thought, like the glow
of mighty furnaces in the night, gives his words that
precious quality of penetration which is peculiar to the

words of the Saints.
This English translation of the works of St. Francis-
xii Preface.
de Sales will form an admirable library of devotion for

all who live in the world. I do not forget how much
he has written for cloistered souls ;
the sweet sim
plicity of his teaching is just as admirably fitted to
sanctify the religious as the man of the world. Whilst

"
abound and multiply, we are safe in fol

devotions"
lowing the guiding hand of the Vicar of Christ, and

in taking St. Francis as our master and teacher in
whatever relates to real "
devotion."
^ J. C. H.
TBANSLATOB S NOTICE.
IT scarcely necessary to say that the

"
is Letters" of
St. Francis de Sales were published after his death,
and that therefore the following selection from them
was not made by the Saint himself. It has been
made for the benefit of those who have not leisure to

study the whole body of his correspondence, which
extends to many volumes. Various editions have ap
peared under the title Letters to Persons in the "
World we have adopted that of Eugene Veuillot,*

;"
which is founded on the recent and authentic texts,

and is further recommended by his personal piety and
well-known literary taste. His principle of division,
according to the class of persons addressed, we accept

when carried out in his broad spirit. The two books
Various might have been somewhat better
"
of Letters"
arranged, and here and there a letter might have pro

fitably been substituted for the one actually chosen.
But we have not let the question of such slight pos
sible improvements weigh against the great advantage
the reader will enjoy of being able to consult with
* "
Lettres de S. Frarôis de Sales a des Gens du Monde."

Par M. Eugene Veuillot. Paris Palme. 1865. Price 5*. ((X
:
Messrs. Burns and Gates.)

xiv Translator s Notice.
facility that original text,every word of which is pene

trated with the unction of the Sainf s style. The only
aim of our translation is to bring readers as close to this
as the differences of the two languages will allow, and in

this view we have not hesitated to risk occasionally the
sacrifice of some minor propriety of English expression.
This may appearance in our
be considered the first
language of the letters of St. Francis. A few of them

may be found forming part of an excellent little work
called
"
Practical Piety ;"

but they are condensed and
curtailed. We mention, only to condemn, a book pro
fessing to be Selection from the Spiritual Letters
"A
of St. Francis de Sales/ published by Rivingtons.

This does not contain true letters of a grand Doctor
of the Catholic Church, but what an Anglican lady
thinks proper to give after exercising her private
theological and literary judgment upon them. They
are utterly untrustworthy.* Our own translation has
*
Here are a few examples, chosen at hazard, of the
misrepresenta
tions that abound in this volume. She makes St. Francis utter
the absurdity and heresy that, Even in good actions or in faults "
one should strive to remain passive" She translates (p. 356).

"
(Passages of Scripture) necessary for the establishment of the

"
faith ;" by important for the confirmation of the faith"

(186).
Where he speaks of
"
that infdme Rabelais," she says simply

-"
Rabelais." So she omits the word

infallible" in a most im
"
portant passage. She always omits the lists of

spiritual authors
given by St. Francis, and his teaching on many points of the
spiritual (such as the use of the discipline, devotion to the
life
Saints, &c.). at her own She shortens

fancy ; reducing, for instance,
by two-thirds the last letter of Book III., on a rule of life, and
liberty of spirit, which is
perhaps the grandest of all the Saint s letters.
Translator s Notice. xv
been executed under the close correction of eminent

theologians.
We venture to refer such of our readers as desire
information concerning some of the persons addressed
in the letters, and the place these writings hold in the
teaching of the Saint, to an article on the

"
Works"
of St. Francis in the Dublin Review for July, 1882.

Fuller information will be found in the "
Vie de S.
5
Fran9ois de Sales/" by M. Hamon, Cure of S. Sulpice.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.
BOOK I.
LETTERS TO YOUNG LADIES.

LETTER
^~
^
I.
II.
To A YOUNG LADY.
true sweetness ......
Advice for acquiring
To A YOUNG LADY GOING TO LIVE IN SOCIETY.

i
We must despise the judgments, contempt

and raillery of worldly people
The Saint invites
... 2
III. To A YOUNG LADY. her to

despise the world. She is not to show too
much wit 4
ÎV.
^ V.
To A COUSIN.
conversation
To A YOUNG LADY.
......
Danger of vain and worldly
On Perfection . .
6
6
VI. To A YOUNG LADY. On friendships founded
in charity 1
3
VII. To A YOUNG LADY. On the cooling of piety.

(Danger of lawsuits.) 13
VIII. To A YOUNG LADY WHO WAS THINKING OF

MARRIAGE. The married state requires
more virtue and constancy than any other 16
IX. To MADEMOISELLE DE TRAVES. The Saint

engages her not to marry, and courageously
to support family trouble . . . .18
X. To A YOUNG LADY. The Saint exhorts her
not to go to law, and recommends the
method of accommodation. (Pernicious
effects of lawsuits.) 19
b
D i IDDADV u/iwn^np
xviii Table of Contents.
LETTER
XI. To A YOUNG LADY. The Saint endeavours to
turn her away from a suit which she
thought of instituting against one who
word ........
had promised to marry her and broken his
26
XII.
^XIII.
To THE SAME.
subject ........
Fresh counsels on the same
To A YOUNG LADY. The gift of prayer comes

28
from heaven, and we must prepare our

selves for it with care by it we put our
;
selves in the presence of God. How a

young person should behave when her
i- XIY.
.......
parents oppose her desire of becoming
a religious
To A YOUNG LADY. Whom we are to consult
30
about entering religion . . .

-33
\* XY. To A YOUNG LADY. The Saint invites her to
L- XYL
herself to him
To A YOUNG LADY.
.....
follow God s inspiration, and to consecrate
The Saint exhorts her

>
36
to give herself entirely to God . .

-37
V XYIL To A YOUNG LADY. The Saint exhorts her
to keep her good resolutions. The best
afflictions are those which humble us.
Means to acquire fervour in prayer . .
38
XYIII. To A YOUNG LADY WHO FOUND OBSTACLES TO
HER DESIRE TO BE A EELIGIOUS. We must
.......
be always able to say to God Thy will be
"
done"
40
^. XIX. To A POSTULANT. He praises her for wishing
to enter the Order of the Visitation .
41
Table of Contents. xix
BOOK II.
LETTERS TO MARRIED WOMEN.

LETTER PAGE
I. To A YOUNG MARRIED LADY. The Saint con
gratulates her on her marriage, and gives
her advice on the duties of her state . .
45
II. To A MARRIED LADY. Advantages of a holy
marriage how we ought to live in that
;
state 47
III. To A MARRIED LADY. The Vintage. Sweet,
peaceful,and tranquil love . .
49
IV. To MADAME, WIFE or PRESIDENT BRULART.
True devotion and the practice of it . .
51
V. To THE SAME, Means to arrive at perfection
in the state of marriage . . . .60
VI. To THE SAME. On the rules which we must
know how to impose upon our devotion .
64
VII. To A LADY. He points out to her remedies
VIII.
against impatience in
troubles of a household
To A LADY.
....
the
Advice on the choice of a

accidental
68
confessor. Practice for preserving peace

and gentleness in domestic affairs . .
70
IX. To ONE or HIS NIECES. Kules of Life . .
73
X. To ONE OF HIS COUSINS. On the way we are
to act when living with our parents . .
76
XI. To A LADY. Distance of place can put no
obstacle to the union of God s children.
How to behave in uncharitable
XII.
Gentleness towards
To A LADY, THE WIFE OF A SENATOR.
all ...
He
company.
ex
78
horts 1: er to giro herself entirely to God,

assuring her that it is the only happiness. So
XIII. To A LADY. On the way to correct human
prudence Si
/; 2
xx Table of Contents.
LETTER PACE
XIY. To TWO The Saint exhorts them to
SISTEKS.
XV.
peace, gentleness, and concord
To M. AND MADAME DE FORAX. The Saint
... 84
congratulates them on the termination of
XVI.
union
To A LADY.
........
lawsuits, and exhorts them to a perfect
of a Christian wife.
85
XVII.
Duty
Counsels during pregnancy
To A LADY. Counsels during pregnancy
... 86
.
89
XVIII. To A LADY IN PREGNANCY. We must, each in
our own state, make profit of the subjects
of mortifications which are therein . .
92
XIX. To A LADY. Counsels during pregnancy .
94
XX. To THE SAME. Counsels on the same subject 94
XXI. To A LADY. The Saint consoles her on her
XXII.
childlessness
To A LADY.
......
The Saint gives her advice on
9:
the marriage of her daughter,

congratulates
her on the virtues of her husband, and
speaks of balls. Distant pilgrimages not
XXIIL
women
suitable for ....
To A LADY. Whose husband had intended to
96
XXIV. To
fight a duel
A LADY. On
.....
the folly of persons in the
Ioo
world about duels . . . . IO i

XXV. To A LADY. The Saint consoles her in the
illness of her daughter, and blames the
excessive love of mothers for their children
102
XXVL To A RELIGIOUS OF THE VISITATION.
XXVII.-To A LADY.
....... Same
Parents ought to bless God

I04
when their children consecrate themselves
XXVIII.-To
to his service
A LADY.
...
The Saint congratulates her on
IO4
her daughter
entering the Carmelites . 106
XXIX. To A LADY. Consolations on the illness of
her husband .
Io?
XXX. To A LADY. Same subject as the preceding ! 108
Table of Contents. xxi
LETTER
XXXI. To A LADY. Same subject
XXXII. To A EELIGIOUS WHO HAD BEEN MARRIED.
.... PAGE
109
The Saint prepares her to accept with

submission the death of her child . .in
XXXIII. To A LADY. Consolation to a mother on the
death of her son in childhood . .
.113
XXXIV. To A LADY. On the death of her son . .
115
XXXV. To A LADY. Consolation on the death of her
son. Example of our Lady at the foot of
the Cross . . . . . . .116
XXXVI. To MADAME, WIPE or PRESIDENT BRULART.
Consolation on the death of a son who
died in the Indies, in theKing s service . 118,
XXXVII. To A LADY. Wemust not stretch our

curiosity so far as to wish to know what
is, after death, the fate of a person we
have much loved 121
XXXVIII. To A LADY. On the too great fear of death . 122
BOOK III.
LETTERS TO WIDOWS.
I. To A COUSIN. He tells her of her husband s

death, and gives her spiritual consolations 127
II. To AN AUNT. Consolations on the death of
her husband. The perfection of true friend
ship is only found in Paradise .129 .
III. To MADAME EIVOLAT, WIDOW. The Saint

consoles her in the death of her husband . 1
30
IV. To A LADY. Consolation on the death of
her husband. He
speaks of her children .
131
V. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Duties of widows
relatively to their salvation means of;
gaining that end . .

. . .
134
Table of Contents.
PAGE
LETTER
VI. To THE SAME. He sands a picture repre
senting the little Jesus with Our Lady

and St. Anne .
T
37
VII.- To THE SAME. Humility is the virtue proper

for widows ;
in what it consists. The great
en the life and death
utility of meditating
of our Lord. Remedies for temptations
against faith. Advice 011 the exercise of
virtues r
39
VIII. To MADAME THE COUNTESS DEDALET. Duties

of a widow towards her parents and
children. The love of parents has great
claims T 44
IX. To THE SAME. What assistance children
who are masters of their fortune and have
a family owe to their parents . . . 1
48
X. To A LADY. The virtues which spring in the
midst of afflictions are the most solid. .
151
XI. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. On the choice of a
Director. Eemedies f ortemptations against
faith. Rules of conduct for the use of a
Christian widow. Liberty of spirit . .
152
BOOK IV.
LETTERS TO MEN OF THE WORLD.
I. To A FRIEND. Way to live in peace . .

175
II. To A GENTLEMAN WHO WAS GOING TO LIVE AT
COURT 176
III. To A MAN OF THE WORLD. To speak too
much is the worst kind of ill-speaking . 183
IV. To AN AUTHOR. A magistrate who had sent
him a book of Christian poetry . . 1 84
Table of Contents. xxiii
LETTER FAOE
Y. To A LORD OF THE COURT. The Saint re
in the midst
joices that he preserves piety
of the Court 186
VI. To A MAN OF THE WORLD. We cannot have

the true intelligence of the Holy Scriptures
outside the Church 188
VII. To A GENTLEMAN WHO WISHED TO LEAVE THE

WORLD T
9
VIII. To A DOCTOR. That we must resign ourselves

to God s will in the death of our parents .
196
IX. To MONSIEUR DE ROQUEFORT. Consolations

on the death of his son .
X Consolations on
To A MAN OF THE WORLD.
the death of his wife .... him on the death
XI. To A FRIEND. He consoles
of his brother -*
XIL To A MAN OF THE WORLD. The Saint tells
him what eternal life is, and that we must
God to aspire to it 202
practice the love of
.
XIII. To A MAN OF THE WORLD. On the fear of

death and of the judgments of God .
XIV. To THE PRESIDENT FREMIOT. The Saint en
gages him to prepare for death .... 208
BOOK V.
VARIOUS LETTERS.
I. To A LADY. Consolations and advice to a
person who had a lawsuit 215

. .
lI._To A LADY. Advice during an illness. We

must obey the doctor . . . .217
III. To A LADY. Sickness may purify the soul
as well as the body 2 1 H
To A YOUNG LADY WHO WAS SICK. Consola

IV.
tions .
... 219
xx iv Table of Contents.
LETTER PAGE
V. To A LADY. How to behave in great suffer
ings 220
VI. To A LADY. In this letter and the following
the Saint exhorts this lady, who was aged
and infirm, and whom he calls his mother, to
lift up her desires towards heaven, to love-
crosses, to have patience and gentleness

with the persons who waited on her . . 222
VII. To THE SAME. Same subject . . .
223
VIII. To THE SAME. Same subject . . .
224
IX. To A LADY. It is permitted to mourn the
dead with moderation and resignation.

Long sicknesses are advantageous . . 226
^ X. To A EELIGIOUS OF THE VISITATION. On want

of reverence in church . . . .228
XI. To A LADY. The way not to offend God in
the pleasure of the chase . . . .
229
l/XII. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Thoughts on the
renewal of the year 231
VXIII. To THE SAME. Wishes of blessing for the
New Year 232
XIV. To A LADY. Wishes for the New Year 233 .
kXV. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Same subject 234 .
v XVI. To THE SAME. Same subject .

.236 .
yXVII. To A SUPERIOR OF THE VISITATION. The Saint

tells her how to distinguish true revelations
from false 238

XVIII. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Considerations on
y
the Feast of the Conception of the Holy
Virgin, and on a Cope which he had re
ceived 242
Table of Contents. xxv
BOOK VI.
VARIOUS LETTERS.
LETTER PAGE
^ I. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. On the Feast of
our Lord s Nativity . . . .
.245
^ II. To THE SAME. On Temptations and Dry-
nesses. Means to repel them, and guard
ourselves against them
-To THE SAME. Patience in interior troubles.
.... 247
^ III.
Looking at God. Not to be precipitate
in the choice of a state. Advice on con
fession 257
vlV. To THE SAME. Great crosses are more meri
torious and require more strength . . 266
v V. To THE SAME. Never to forget the day on

which we returned to God . . .
267
YI. To THE SAME. Not to reason with tempta
^VIL
tions,
them .....
nor to fear them, nor even
To MADAME DE CHANTAL. He
reflect
exhorts her to
on
.270
prepare her heart that the Blessed Virgin

may be born therein, and to unite herself
closely to Jesus.
"
The little virtues" .

273
VIII.
IX.
To THE SAME.
in our soul
To A YOUNG LADY.
We
......
are to carry Jesus Christ
What the courage of

275
Christians is 276
To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Means
,,-X.
Lent well
To THE SAME.
....On troubles of spirit
of passing
.
. .
.
278
280
{.XI.
XII. To THE SAME. We must work with courage
at our salvation and perfection, whether in
consolations or in tribulations. What
abjection is ;
from humility.
its difference
Action which parents should take with

regard to the vocation of their children.
Advice on temptations. God wishes to be
loved rather than feared .... 283
xxvi Table of Contents.
LETTER PAGE
XIII. To THE SAME. Advantage of interior trials
for perfection. God communicates himself
in afflictions rather than in consolations .
298
XIV. To THE SAME. On the Love of God . . 300
XV. To A LADY. Sign of good prayer. Advice
on this exercise and on the choice of books
XVI.
munion
To A LADY.
;
.......
of piety on Paschal Confession and Com
We mnst always keep our souls

307
in repose before God 309

XVII. To A LADY. We must bear our own infir
mities with patience. God acts in different
ways towards His servants. Advice on

drynesses in prayer. The will of God .
310
XVIII. To A LADY. Piety must be solid. must We
be faithful to it everywhere and in every
thing without failing . . .
.316.
XIX. To A LADY. We must labour to perfect our
selves in our state. Advice on Confession
and Communion . .
.317 . .
XX. To ONE OF HIS RELATIVES. He wishes her

the Love of God 320
XXI. To THE SAME. The Saint exhorts her to be
faithful to God 322
XXII. To ONE OF HIS SISTERS. To avoid eagerness
in devotion, and to practise mortifications
which come of themselves . . .
324
XXIII. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. It is a great hap
piness to keep ourselves humble at the foot
of the cross 325
XXIV. To THE SAME. On the repose of our hearts
in the Will of God 327
XXV. To A LADY. We must hate our faults with
tranquillity, and not uselessly desire what
we cannot have 329
XXVI. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. The difference
between putting and keeping ourselves in
the presence of God . . . .
.332
Table of Contents. xxvi
LETTER PAGE
XXVII. To THE WIFE OF PRESIDENT DE HERCE. He
consoles her under the motions of the
passions which she felt and which alarmed
her. Nature is not indifferent to sufferings
in this life : our Lord in his Passion an
example of this. Remedy for the out
bursts of self-love . . . .
335
XXVIII. To A. LADY. Human respect is blameworthy
in matters of religion. Advice on interior
drynesses 338
XXIX. To ONE OF HIS SISTERS. The Saint recom
mends to her gentleness and peace in the
troubles of this life 340
XXX. To A LADY. Of resignation in trials, and of
Christian mildness 341
XXXI. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Eesignation to
God s will. Cure for spiritual troubles .
343
XXXII. To A EELIGIOUS. Different effects and signs
of self-love and true charity . . .
344
XXXIII. To ONE OF HIS SPIRITUAL DAUGHTERS. Effects
XXXIV.
of self-love
fraternal charity
To A SUPERIOR OF THE VISITATION, ms NIECE.
*
....
very different from those of
347
XXXV.
"We
our own
To A LADY.
.......
must serve God at his pleasure, not
should not refrain from

"We
34$
speaking of God when it may be useful. It

is not being a hypocrite to speak better
than we act. Advice for a person in
society 35
XXXVI. To A LADY. We
must not be surprised at
spiritual coldness, provided we are firm in
our resolutions. A servant of God . .
353
XXXVII. To A LADY. God does not give good desires
without giving the means to accomplish
them 354
XXXVIII. To A L.VDY. The S;iint consoles her on her
spiritual drynes.s 35^
xxviii Table of Contents.
LETTER
XXXIX. To A LADY. The will of God gives a great
value to the least actions. We must love
nothing too ardently, even virtues 358
. .
XL. To MADEMOISELLE DE TRAVES. The Saint

removes two scruples which she had .
360
XLI. To A LADY. Merit of the service which we
pay God in desolations and drynesses 361
.
XLII. To A RELIGIOUS OF THE VISITATION. Answers

to questions on the truths of Faith . .
363
XLIII.
XLIV.
To A LADY.
tions ........
Of piety in the midst of
To A LADY. Purity of Christian affections

afflic
:
36 5
God is their bond. The world is insipid to
XLV.
.....
those who love God. Humility must supply
the want of courage
To ONE OF ins SISTERS. The Saint exhorts
3^9
XLVL
........
her to live in a great conformity with our
Lord
To THE SAME. The Saint exhorts her to
371
communicate often, and to abandon herself

to Providence in contradiction . .
-374
XLVIL To A LADY. The means to be all to God is
to crucify our strongest inclinations . .

376
XL VIII. To A SUPERIOR OF THE VISITATION. God
regards us with love, provided that we
have good will. Our imperfections must
neither astonish nor discourage us .377 .
XLIX. To A LADY. A confessor may for various

reasons withdraw frequent communion
from certain persons this privation must
;
L.
it advantageous
To A LADY.
......
be borne with a humble obedience, to make
The Saint exhorts her to fidelity

380
in her spiritual exercises and the practice

of virtue. How we are to treat our heart
when it has committed a fault . . .
382
LI. To A SUPERIOR OF THE VISITATION. Consi
derations on the death of the Blessed Virgin 384
Table of Contents. xxix
LETTER PAGE
LII. To LADY. We must support with patience
A.
our own imperfections. Advice on Medi

tation. The judgments of the world .
385
LII I. To A LADY. The remedy for calumny is
not to trouble ourselves about it. Advice
on confession 389
LIV. To A LADY. The consideration of the suffer
ings of our Saviour ought to console us in
our pains 392
LY. To A LADY. The Saint recommends her
peace of the soul and trust in God . .
394
LVI. To AN ECCLESIASTIC. Advantage of Christian
LVIL On
world ........
friendship over that of the children of the
humility of heart and ravishments . .

396
398
LVIIL To A PROTESTANT WHO HAD ASKED TO HAVE A
LIX.
CONFERENCE WITH HIM ....
To MADAME DE CHANTAL. The Saint deplores
400
the misfortune of a lady who had fallen

into heresy . . . . . .
.402
LX. To HIS BROTHER, COADJUTOR OP GENEVA.
About one of their friends who had turned
Calvinist, and gone into England . .
405
LXL To His HOLINESS PAUL V. On the Vener
able Ancina 408
BOOK VII.
LETTERS OF THE SAINT ABOUT HIMSELF.
I. MONSIEUR DE BOISY, COUNT DE SALES, TO

HIS SON ST. FRANCIS DE SALES -415
. .
II. ST. FRANCIS DE SALES TO HIS FATHER. He

excuses himself for being unable to return 416
III. To MADAME THE COUNTESS OP SALES, HIS
MOTHER. He consoles her for his absence
by the hope of seeing him again . .
4 2.
xxx Table of Contents.
LETTER PAGE
IV. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. speaksHe to
her of the fruit of his Lent-preaching at
Annecy, in 1607 41 ?
Y. To THE SAME. Heencourages her, by his
example, patiently to suffer, that her gen
tleness, in domestic contradictions, should
be put down to dissimulation . .
.419
VI. To THE SAME. He informs her that he is
going to visit his diocese he congratulates

;
her on her love for sicknesses he promises

;
to write often 422

VII. To THE SAME. Sentiments which he felt in
the procession of the Blessed Sacrament 423
VIII. To THE SAME. Why he was strong before
great attacks. His relish for prayer .
425
IX. To THE SAME. On the death of his young
Jane de Sales, who died in the arms
X.
sister,
of Madame
de Chantal ....
To THE SAME. He sends copies of the Intro
427
duction for several persons . . .

432
XI. To MADAME de CORNILLON, HIS SISTER. On
the death of their mother . . .
-435
XII. To MADAME DE CHANTAL. On the death of
his mother, and her last moments 436. .
XIII. To MADAME DE ^CORNILLOX, HIS SISTER. The

Saint consoles her on the death of M. the
Baron de Thorens, their brother -441 .
XIV.
XV.
tion of the Saint
To THE SAME.
.....
To MADAME DE CHANTAL. Perfect resigna
Profound peace of the Saint

442
amidst his affairs. Mark of his humility.

He permits ladies some innocent recreations
under the name of balls. He announces
that he is going to work at The Love of God 443
XVI. To THE SAME. On his soul. The will .
446
XVII. To A LADY. He blames one of his spiritual
daughters, who, in speaking of him, said
extravagant things in his praise . .
449
Table of Contents. xxxi
LETTER PAGE
XVIII. To A CURE OF TIIE DIOCESE OF GENEVA. He
recommends to him the conversion of an
heretical doctor who was treating Madame
de Chantal 451
XIX. To A FRIEND. He complains of not being
able to give himself to study . .
.452
XX. To AN ECCLESIASTIC. On friendship .454
.
XXI. To MADAME DE CHANTAL, AT PARIS. The Saint

expresses his disgust for the court, and for
the condition of a courtier . .
45 5
XXII. To THE SAME. Disinterestedness of the
Saint 458
XXIII. To THE SAME. Acquiescence of the Saint
in the divine will . . . .
.459
XXI V. To M. FAVRE. The thought of eternity . 461
XX Y. To A LADY. Contempt of the grandeurs of
the world. Desires of eternity. . .
463
J-
V vy
BOOK I.
LETTERS TO YOUTG LADIES.
LETTER I.
To A YOUNG LADY.
Advice for acquiring true sweetness.
I PRAYGod to bless your heart, my dear daughter,

and I say to you these words according to my pro
mise.
You should, every morning, before all things, pray
God to give you the true sweetness of spirit he requires
in souls which serve him, and resolve to exercise your
self well in that virtue, particularly towards the two
persons to whom you are most bound.

You must undertake the task of conquering your
self in this matter, and remind yourself of it a hundred
times a day, recommending to God this good design :
for I do not see that you have much to do in order

to your soul to the love of God, except to
subject
make it gentler from day to day, putting your con -
fidence in his goodness. You will be blessed, my
dearest daughter, if you do this; for God will dwell
B
2 St. Francis de Sales.
in the midst of your heart, and will reign there in all
tranquillity.
But if you happen to commit some little failings,
lose not courage :

rather, put yourself straight again
at once, neither more nor less than if you had not
fallen.
This life is short, it is only given us to gain the

other ;
and you will use it well if you are gentle to
wards those two persons, with whom God has placed
you. Pray for. my soul, that God may draw it to
himself.
LETTER II.
To A YOUNG LADY GOING TO LIVE IN SOCIETY.
We must despise the judgments, contempt and raillery of worldly
people.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, You will often be amongst

the children of this world, who, according to their
custom, will laugh at all they see or think

they see
in you contrary to their miserable inclinations. Do
not busy yourself disputing with them, show no sort
of sadness under their attacks ; but joyously laugh at
their laughter, despise their contempt, smile at their
remonstrances, gracefully mock at their mockeries;
and not giving attention to all this, walk always
gaily in the service of God ; and in time of prayer,
commend these poor souls to the Divine mercy.
They are worthy of compassion in having no desire
Letters to Young Ladies. 3
for honourable company, except to laugh and mock at
subjects worthy of respect and reverence.

I see that you abound in the goods of the present
life ;
take care that your heart become not attached
thereto. Solomon, the wisest of mortals, commenced
his unspeakable misery by the pleasure he took in
the grandeurs, ornaments and magnificent equipages
he had, though all this was according to his quality.
Let us consider that all we have makes us really
nothing more than the rest of the world, and that
all this is nothing before God and the Angels.
Remember, my dearest daughter, to fulfil well the

will of God in the cases in which you may have the
most difficulty. It is a little thing to please God in
what pleases us : filial
fidelity requires that we will
to please him
what does not please us, putting
in
before our eyes what the great well-beloved Son said

of himself / am not come to do my ivill, but the will
:
of him that sent me* For you also are not a Chris
tian to do your own will, but to do the will of him
who has adopted you for his daughter and eternal
heiress.
For the rest, you are going away, and I I also
am going away, without any hope of seeing you again

in this world. Let us pray God earnestly to give us
grace so according to his pleasure in this
to live
pilgrimage, that arriving at our heavenly country, we

may be able to rejoice at having seen one another
here below, and to have spoken here of the mysteries
* John vi. 38.

B 2
of eternity. In this alone must we rejoice to have
loved one another in this life, namely, that all has

been for the glory of his Divine Majesty, and our
eternal salvation.
Keep holy gaiety of heart, which nourishes

that
the strength of the soul, and edifies our neighbour.
Go thus in peace, my dearest daughter, and God be
ever your protector; may he ever hold you in his
hand, and conduct you in the way of his holy will.
Amen, my dearest daughter. And I promise you

that every day I will renew these sacred wishes for
your soul, which mine will ever cherish unchangeably.

And to God be ever praise, thanksgiving and bene
dictions. Amen.
LETTER III.
To A YOUNG LADY.
The Saint invites her to despise the world. She is not to
show too much wit.
I ANSWER your last letter, my good daughter. The

ardours of love in prayer are good if they leave good
effects and occupy you not with yourself, but with
God and his holy will. In a word, all interior and
exterior movements which
strengthen your fidelity
towards this Divine will are always good. Love, then,
celestial desires, and desire as strongly celestial love.
We must desire to love and love to desire what can
never be enough desired or loved.
Letters to Yoiing Ladies. 5
May God give us the grace, my daughter, to ab

solutely despise the world, which is so hostile to us
as to crucify us if we crucify it. But mental abnega
tions of worldly vanities and goods are made easily
enough : real ones are far more hard. And here
you are amidst the occasions of practising this virtue
up to extreme point, since to this abnegation is

its
joined reproach, and since it comes on you, without

you and through you, or rather in God, with God and
for God.
You do not satisfy me about what I said to you
the other day, on your first letter, touching those
worldly repartees, and that vivacity of heart which

urges you. My child, determine to mortify yourself
in this : often make the cross on your mouth, that it
may open only according to God.

Truly a lively wit often causes us vanity ; and much
we oftener show disdain by the expression of our mind
than the expression of our face ; we give arch looks
by our words, as well as by the looks themselves. It
is not good to walk on tiptoe, either in mind or body ;

for if we stumble the fall is all the worse. So then,
my child, take good pains to cut off, little by little,
this excrescence of your spiritual tree ; keep your

heart very low, very quiet there at the foot of the
cross. Continue to tell me very frankly and often
news of that heart, which mine cherishes with great
love, on account of him, who died of love, that we
might live by love in his holy death.

Vive Jesus.
LETTER IV.
To A COUSIN.
Danger of vain and worldly conversation.
MY DEAR CHILD, Indeed, very dear child, my cousin,

you must get this poor soul away from risk, for the
luxurious way of living in the place where it is, is so
perilous that it is a wonder when a person escapes from

the midst of it. Alas !
my poor child, you have a right
to be astonished that a creature should will to offend
God, for that goes beyond all astonishment : still it is
done, as we unhappily see every day. The unfortunate

beauty and grace which these poor worthless girls
make themselves believe they have, because those
miserable people tell them so, is what ruins them : for
they occupy themselves so much with the body that
they lose care of the So then, my

soul. child, .we
must do what we can, and remain in peace.
LETTER V.
To A YOUNG LADY.
On perfection.
MADEMOISELLE, I received by my brother one of

your letters, which makes me praise God for having
(
given some light to your mind : but if it is not yet
altogether detached, you must not be astonished.
Spiritual as well as corporal fevers are generally fol

lowed by some returns of the feeling of illness, which
are useful to the person who is
getting better for
many but particularly because they consume
reasons ;
the remains of peccant humours which had caused the
malady, so that there may not remain a trace of them ;

and because they remind us of the evil past, to make
us fear the relapse which we might bring on by too
much liberty and license, if the old feelings, like
threats, did not keep us on our guard with ourselves,

until our health is perfectly restored.
But, good daughter, as you have half got out of

my
those terrible paths which you have had to travel, I
think you should now take a little rest, and consider
the vanity of the human spirit, how prone it is to
entangle and embarrass itself in itself.
For I am sure you will remark that those interior

troubles you have suffered have been caused by a great
multitude of considerations and desires produced by a
great eagerness to attain some imaginary perfection.

I mean that your imagination had formed for you an
ideal of absolute perfection, to which your will wished
to lift itself; but frightened by this great
difficulty,
or rather impossibility, it remained in dangerous travail,
unable to bring forth, to the great danger of the child.
Then multiplied useless desires which, like great
it
buzzing drones, devoured the honey of the hive, and

the true and good desires remained deprived of all
consolation. So now take a little breath, rest a little;
8 6V. Francis de Sales.
and by the consideration of dangers escaped, avert

those which might come afterwards. Suspect all those
desires which, according to the general opinion of
good people, cannot come to effect : such as the

desires of a certain Christian perfection which can be
imagined but not practised, in which many take lessons,
but which no one realizes in action.
Know that the virtue of patience is the one which
most assures us of perfection and if we must have
;
patience with others, so we must with ourselves.

Those who aspire to the pure love of God have not so
much need of patience with others as with themselves.
We must our imperfection in order to have per

suffer
fection ;
I say suffer, not love or pet humility feeds :
on this suffering.
The truth must be told we are poor creatures/ ;
and can only just get on but God who is infinitely:
good is content with our little services, and pleased

with the preparation of our heart.
I will tell you what is meant by this preparation of
heart ?
According Holy Text, God is greater
to the
than our heart, and our heart is greater than all the
world. Now, when our heart, by itself, in its medi
tation, prepares the service it will render to God-
that is, when makes
plans for serving God,
it its
honouring him, serving our neighbour, mortifying the

interior and exterior senses, and similar
good resolu
tions, at such times it does wonders, it makes prepa
rations and gets ready its actions for an eminent
degree of admirable perfection. All this preparation
isindeed nowise proportioned to the greatness of God,

who is infinitely greater than our heart but still this ;
preparation generally greater than the world, than

is
our strength, than our exterior actions.

A soul which considers the greatness of God, his
immense goodness and dignity, cannot satisfy herself
in making great and marvellous preparations for him.
She prepares him a flesh mortified beyond rebellion,

an attention at prayer without distraction, a sweetness
in conversation with no bitterness, a humility with no
outbreak of vanity.
All this is
very good, here are good preparations.
And still more would be required to serve God accord
ing to our duty : but at the end of this we must find

some one to do it : for when it comes to practice we
stop short, and perceive that these perfections can
neither be so grand in us nor so absolute. We can
mortify the flesh, but not so perfectly that there shall
be no rebellion our attention will often be broken
:
by distractions, and so on. And must we, for this,
trouble, worry, excite ourselves ?

Certainly not.
Are we to apply a world of desires to excite our
selves to arrive at this miracle of perfection ? No.
We may indeed make simple wishes that show our
gratitude. I may say : Ah why am I not as fervent
!
as the Seraphim, in order better to serve and praise

my God but I should not occupy myself with form
!
ing desires, as if I must in this world attain that

exquisite perfection. I must not say I wish it ; I :
will try to get it; and if I cannot reach it, I will be vexed.
ic St. Francis de Sales.
I do not mean to say that we are not to put our

selves in that direction ; but we are not to desire to
get there in one day, that one day of

is, in this mor
tality : for this desire would torment us, and for
nothing. To advance well we must apply ourselves
to make good way in the road nearest to us, and to
do the first day s journey. We must not busy cur-
selves with wanting to do the last, but remember that
we are to do and work out the first.
I will give you this word, and keep it well : some

times we so much occupy ourselves with being good
angels that we neglect being good men and women.
Our imperfection must accompany us to our coffin,
we cannot move without touching earth. We are not
to lie or wallow there, but still we are not to think
of flying : for we are but little chicks, and have not
our wings yet. We are dying little by little ; so we
are tomake our imperfections die with us day by day :
dear imperfections, which make us acknowledge our
misery, exercise us in humility, contempt of self,

patience, diligence ; and in spite of which God regards
the preparation of our hearts, which is
perfect.
I know not if I am writing to the purpose, but it
has come to heart to say this to you, as I think

my
that a part of your past trouble has come from this
that you have made great preparations, and then,
seeing that the results were very small, and strength

insufficient put in practice these desires, these
to
plans, these ideas, you have had certain heartbursts,
impatiences, disquietudes and troubles ; then have

Letters to Young Ladies. 1 1
followed distrusts, languors, depressions, or failings of

heart :
well, if it is so, be very good for the
future.
Let us go by laud, since the high sea makes our

head turn, and gives us retchings. Let us keep at our
Lord s feet, with St. Magdalen, whose feast we are
celebrating : let us practise certain little virtues proper
for our littleness. Little pedler, little pack. These
are the which are more exercised in going
virtues
down, than in going up, and therefore they are suit

able to our legs :
patience, bearing with our neighbour,
submission, humility, sweetness of temper, affability,
toleration of our imperfection, and such little virtues
as these. I do not say that we are not to mount by

prayer, but step by step.
I recommend
to you holy simplicity look before :
you, and regard not those dangers which you see afar
off. As you say, they seem to you armies, and they
are only willow-branches, and while you are looking
at them you may make some false step. Let us have
a firm and general intention of serving God all our
life, and with all our heart beyond that let us have
:
no solicitude for the morrow* let us only think of

doing well to-day when to-morrow arrives it will be
;
called in its turn to-day, and then we will think of it.

We must here again have a great confidence and
acquiescence in the providence of God we must ;
make provision of manna for each day and no more,

and we must not doubt that God will rain more to-
* Matt. vi. 34.

1 2 St. Francis de Sales.
morrow, and after to-morrow, and all the days of our
pilgrimage.
I extremely approve the advice of Father N., that
you take a director into whose arms you may be

able sweetly to lay your spirit. It will be your hap
piness to have no other than the sweet Jesus, who, as

he wishes us not to despise the service of his ministers
when we can have it, so when that is wanting supplies
for all : but only in that extremity, so that if you are
reduced to that you will find it out.
What I wrote to you was not to keep you from
communicating to me by letters, or speaking with me
about your soul, which is tenderly dear and well-
beloved to me. It was to extinguish the ardour of
the confidence you had in me, who, through my in
efficiency and your distance from me, can be to you

but very little use, though very affectionate and very
devoted in Jesus Christ. Write to me then with con
fidence, and doubt not at all that I will answer faith
fully.
I have put at the bottom of the letter what
you
want, that it may be for you alone. Pray hard for
me, I beg you. It is incredible how pressed down
and oppressed I am by this great and difficult charge.
This charity you owe me by the laws of our alliance,
and 1 pay you back by the continual
memory which I
keep of you at the altar in my feeble prayers. Blessed
be our Lord. I beg him to be your heart,
your soul,
your life and I am your servant, &c.
;
LETTER VI.
To A YOUNG LADY.
On friendships founded in charity.
O GOD ! how far more constant and firm are the
friendships founded in charity than those whose

foundation is in flesh and blood, or in worldly
motives.
Do not trouble yourself about your drynesses and
barrennesses ; rather comfort yourself in your superior
soul, and remember what our God has said : Blessed

are the poor in spirit, blessed are they who hunger and
thirst *
after justice.
What
a happiness to serve God in the desert with
out manna, without water, and without other consola
tion than that of being under his guidance, and suffer
ing for him May the most Blessed Virgin be truly

!
born in our hearts to bring her blessings to them. I

am in her and in her son entirely yours.
LETTER VII.
To A YOUNG LADY.
On the cooling of piety. (Danger of lawsuits.)
i ^th June, 1620.
WILL that amiable spirit which I saw in you during
some months, while you were in this town, my dearest
* Matt. v. 3, 6.
daughter, never come back into your heart? Truly,

when I see how it has gone out, I am in great per
plexity, not about your salvation, for I hope that you

will still effect that but about your perfection, to
;
which God calls you, and has never ceased to call you
since your youth.
For, I pray, my dearest daughter, how could I

advise you to stay in the world ? I know the ex
cellent disposition which is at the bottom of your
heart ;
but it is accompanied with so strong an incli
nation to the grandeur and dignity of life, and to
natural, human prudence and wisdom, and with such
great activity, subtlety and delicacy of mind, that I

should fear infinitely to see you in the world there ;
being no condition more dangerous in that state than

a good disposition accompanied by such qualities. If
we add to this your incomparable aversion to obe

dience, there nothing more to say except that on
is
no consideration whatever must you remain in the

world.
And yet how could I advise you to enter into
religion, while not only do you not desire it, but your
heart is entirely opposed to that kind of life ?
A must be sought neither of the

sort of life then
world nor of religion, without the miseries of the

world and the constraints of religion. We may just
manage, I think, that you should have the entree to
some house of the Visitation, to recollect yourself often
in the religious life, and still that you should not be
bound to it. You may even have a lodging near, for
your retreat,, with only the tie of some exercises of

devotion useful for a good life. Thus you will have
convenience for satisfying your spirit which so
strangely dislikes submission and the tie of obedience,

which finds it so hard to meet with souls made to its
desire, and which is so clear-sighted in finding defects,
and so sensitive in feeling them.
Oh when I
! call to memory the happy time when I
saw you, according to my wish, so entirely stripped of

self, so desirous of mortifications, so attached to self-
abnegation, I cannot but hope to see it again.

As your dwelling, I leave you the choice of it
to :
as for mine I think it will be in your country after
my return from Rome, which will be about Easter, if

I go. But make a good choice of place, where you
can be well helped.
As you wish it I will treat with Monsieur N. O
God, how ardently and unchangeably I desire that
your affairs may be settled without lawsuits. For,

you see, the money which your suits will cost, will be
enough to live upon, and what certainty is there of the
result ? How do you know what the judges will say
and decide about your cause ? And then you pass
your best days in this most wretched occupation, and
will have few left to be usefully employed in your
principal object ;
and God knows if, after a long
quarrel, you will be able to recall your dissipated
spirit to unite it to his divine goodness.
My child, those who live on the sea die on the sea ;
I have scarcely ever seen people embark in lawsuits

who did not die in that entanglement. Now, think

whether your soul is made for that ; whether your
time is rightly devoted to that; get M. Vincent^
examine well with him all this affair, and cut it short.
Do not wish to be rich, my dearest daughter ; or at
least if you can only be so by these miserable ways of

lawsuits, be rather poor, my dearest child, than rich at
the cost of your peace.
You should make a general confession since you
cannot otherwise soothe your conscience, and since a
learned and virtuous ecclesiastic advised it. But I
have no time to write more to you, carried off by

businesses, and hurried by the departure of this
bearer, God be in the midst of your heart. Amen.
LETTER VIII.
To A YOUNG LADY WHO WAS THINKING OF MARRIAGE.

The married state requires more virtue and constancy
than any other.
MADEMOISELLE, I answer your letter of the second of

this month, later than I wished, considering the
quality of the advice and counsel you ask me; but the
great rains have hindered travellers from starting, at

least I have had no safe opportunity till this.
The advice your good cousin so constantly gave you

* S. Vincent de Paul.
7
to remain your own mistress, in the care of your
father, and able afterwards to consecrate heart and

body to our Lord, was founded on a great number of
considerations drawn from many circumstances of your
condition. For which reason, if your spirit had been
in a full and entire indifference, I should doubtless
have told you that you should follow that advice as
the noblest and most proper that could be offered, for
it would have been such beyond all question.
But since your spirit is not at all in indifference,
and quite bent to the election of marriage, and since
in spite of your recourse to God you feel yourself still
attached to not expedient to do violence to so

it, it is
confirmed a feeling for any reason whatever. All the

circumstances which otherwise would be more than
enough to make
roe agree with the dear cousin, have
no weight against this strong inclination and pro
pensity ; which, indeed, if it were weak and slight,
would be of little account, but being powerful and
firm, must be the foundation of your resolution.
If then the husband proposed to you is otherwise
suitable a good man, and of sympathetic humour,
you may profitably accept him. I

say sympathetic,
because this bodily defect of yours* requires sympathy,
as it requires you to compensate it by a great sweet
ness, a sincere love, and a very resigned humility

in short, true virtue and perfection of soul must cover
all over the blemish of body.
I am much pressed for time, my dear daughter,
*
Manqucment de taill?.
C
1 8 5V. Francis de Sales.
and canuot say many things to you. I will end, then,
by assuring you that I will ever recommend you

to
our Lord, that he may direct your life to his glory.

The state of marriage is one which requires more
virtue and constancy than any other ;
it is a perpetual
exercise of mortification ;
it will perhaps be so to you
more than usual. You must then dispose yourself to it
with a particular care, that from this thyme-plant, in

its juice, you may be able
spite of the bitter nature of
to draw, and make the honey of a holy life. May the
sweet Jesus be ever your sugar and your honey to
sweeten your vocation ; ever may he live and reign in
our hearts. I am in him, &c.
LETTER IX.
To MADEMOISELLE DE TRAVES.
The Saint engages Tier not to marry, and courageously to
support family trouble.

Sth April, 1609.
MADEMOISELLE, Wishing to honour, cherish, and serve

you my life,
all I have inquired of Madam, your dear
cousin, my sister, about the state of your heart, of which

she has said what consoles me. you How happy will
be, my you persevere in despising the

dear child, if
promises which the world will want to make you, for in

real truth it is
only a real deceiver. Let us never look
at what it offers, without considering what it hides. It
Letters to Yoimg Ladies. \
9
is true, doubtless, that a good husband is a great help,

but there are very few, and good as he may be, he be
comes more of a tie than a help. You have a great
anxiety for the family which is on your hands, but it
would not lessen if you undertook the charge of
another, perhaps as large. Stay as you are, and
believe me, make a resolution to this effect so strong
and so evident that no one may doubt it. The cir
cumstances in which you are now will serve you as a
littlemartyrdom, you continue to join your labours

if
therein to those of our Saviour, of our Lady and the

Saints who, amid the variety and multiplicity of the
;
importunities which their charge gave them, have

inviolably kept the love and the devotion for the holy
unity of God, in whom, by whom, and for whom they
have conducted their lives to a most happy end.
O that you may, them, keep and consecrate to
like
God your heart, your body, your love, and all your
life ! I am, in all sincerity, your &c.
LETTER X.
To A YOUNG LADY.
The Saint exhorts her not to go to law and recommends the
method of accommodation. (Pernicious effects of lawsuits. )
I DO not tell you the truly more than paternal love
my heart has for you, my dearest daughter, for I think

C 2
that God himself, who has created it, will tell it

you ;
and if he does not make it known it is not in my

power to do so. But why do I
say this to you ?
Because, my dearest daughter, I have not written to
you as often as you might have wished, and people

sometimes judge of the affection more by the sheets
of paper than by the fruit of the true interior senti
ments, which only appear on rare and signal occasions,

and which are more useful.
Well, you ask me for a paper which hitherto I have

not been able to find, and which M. has not either.
You wish that if it is not in our hands we should

send instantly to Rome for a similar one. But,
my child, I think there has been a change of
bishop at Troyes ; and if so, then we must know his
name.
And, without further preface, I am going to say to
you, without art or disguise, what my soul wishes to
say to you. How long will you aim at other victories
over the world or other love for the things you can
see there than our Lord had, to which he exhorts you
in so many ways ? How acted he, this Saviour of the
world ? It is true, my child, he was the lawful sove
reign of the world, and did he ever go to law to have
so much as where to lay his head ? A thousand
wrongs were done him ; what suit did he ever make ?
Before what tribunal did he ever cite anyone ? None,
indeed yea, he did not will even to cite the traitors
;
who crucified him before the tribunal of God ! on the

contrary, he invoked on them the power of mercy.
Letters to Young Ladies. 2 i
And it is this which he has so fully inculcated. To

him who would go to law with thee and take aivay thy
coat t give thy tunic also.^
I am not at all extravagant (superstitieux] and blame

not those who go to law, provided they do so in truth,
judgment, and justice but I say, I exclaim, I cry out,
:
and, if need were, would write with my own blood,

that those who want to be perfect, and entirely
children of Jesus Christ crucified, must practise this
doctrine of our Lord. Let the world rage, let the
prudence of the flesh tear out its hair with spite if it

likes, and let all the wise men of the age invent as
many divisions, pretexts, excuses, as they like ;

but
this word ought to be preferred to all prudence And :
if any man would go to law with thee and take away
thy coaty (en jugement) give him thy cloak also.

But this, you me, applies to certain cases.
will tell
True, my dearest daughter; but, thank God, we are

in such case, for we aspire to perfection, and wish to
follow as near as we can him who said with an affection
truly apostolic :
Having food, and wherewith to be
clothed, with these we are content.^ And who cried

out to the Corinthians :
Indeed, there is already plainly
fault and sin in you, for that you go to law with one
another.^ Hearken, my child, to the sentiments and

advice of this man, who no longer lived in himself, but
Christ lived in him. Why, says he, do you not rather
suffer yourselves to be defrauded ?\\ Notice, my child,
* Matt. v. Tim. 8. i Coy. vi.
40. f i vi. J 7.
Gal. ii. 20. ||
i Cor. vi. 7.
that he speaks, not to a daughter who aspires after a

particular manner and after so many inspirations, to
the perfect life, but to all the Corinthians. Notice
that he wishes them to suffer the wrong, that there is
fault in them to go to Jaw with those who cheat and

defraud them. But what sin ? In that they thus
scandalize the heathen children of the world, who
said :
"
See how Christian these Christians are. Their

master says : To him who would lake Ihy cout, give also
thy cloak how for temporal goods they risk the

:
see,
eternal, and the tender brotherly love they should

have for one another/ On this S. Augustine says :
Note the lesson of our Lord he says not to him

"
who would take away a ring, give also thy necklace,

both of which are superfluous but he speaks of the :
tunic and mantle, which are necessary things."
O, my dearest daughter, behold the wisdom of God,

bshold his prudence, consisting in the most holy and
most adorable simplicity, childlikeness, and, to speak
after an apostolic manner, in the most sacred
folly of
the cross.
But, thus will say to me human prudence, to what

will you reduce us ? What are they to tread us !
under foot, to twist our nose, to play with us as with

a bauble Are they to dress and undress us without
?
our saying a word ? Yes, indeed, I wish that not I, ;
indeed, but Christ wishes it in me and the Apostle ;
of the cross and of the crucified cries out Until now :
we are hungry, we are thirsty, we are naked, we are

bvffdted; in fine, we are become the offscouring of the
world (as an apple peeling, a sweeping up, a chestnut

skin, or a nutshell)* The inhabitants of Babylon un
derstand not this doctrine, but the dwellers on Mount
Calvary practise it.
you are very

"
my
"
O," you will say, child, severe,
father, all at once." Indeed it is not all at once, for

since I have had grace to know a little the spirit of
the cross, this sentiment entered into my mind, and
has never left it. And if I have not lived according
to it, been through weakness of heart and not
this has
through thinking it right the howling of the world ;
has made me do externally the evil I hated internally:

and I will dare to say this word, to my confusion, into
my daughter never rendered injury or evil
s ear : I
except unwillingly (a contre cwur). I do not scrutinize

my conscience, but so far as I see in the general, I
believe I speak the truth ;
and so much the more
inexcusable am I.
I quite agree, my child, Be prudent as the serpent,^

who despoils himself entirely, not of his dress, but of
his very skin, to renew his youth; who hides his head,
says S. Gregory (which is, for us, fidelity to the Gospel
teaching), and leaves all the rest to the mercy of his
enemies to save the integrity of that.

But what am I saying ? I write this letter with
impetuosity, and I have been obliged to write it at
two sittings, and love

not prudent and discreet, it is
goes violently and in advance of itself.

You have there so many people of honour, of \vis-
* I Cor. iv. n, 13. t Mat. x. 16.
dom, of loving temper, of piety will it not be pos :
sible for them to bring Madame de C. and Madame de
L. to some understanding which will give you a holy
sufficiency ? Are they tigers, who cannot be brought

to reason ? Have you not there M. N., in whose
prudence all you have and all you claim would be very
safe ? Have you not M. N., who will certainly do
you this favour of assisting you in this Christian way

of peace? And the good Father N., will he not be
pleased to serve God
your affair, which regards
in
almost your very salvation, and quite, at least, your

advancement in perfection ? And then Madame N.,
should she not be believed, for she is certainly, I do
not only say very, very good, but also prudent enough
to advise you in this case.
What duplicities, artifices, worldly speeches, and

perhaps lies, how many little injustices, and soft and
well-covered, and imperceptible calumnies, are used in
and procedures
this confusion of suits Will you not !
say that you wish to marry, scandalizing the whole

world by an evident lie, unless you have a constant
preceptor who will whisper in your ear the purity of
sincerity ? Will you not say that you wish to live in

the world, and to be supported according to your
birth? that you have need of this and that? And
what about all this antVnest of thoughts and fancies
Avhich these transactions will breed in your spirit ?
Leave, leave to the worldly their world what need :
have you of what is required to live in it ? Two

thousand crowns and still less will
abundantly suffice
for a person who loves our Saviour crucified. A hun

dred and fifty crowns income, or two hundred, are
riches for one who believes in the article of evangelical
poverty.
^3ut if I were not a cloistered religious, and only
associated to some monastery, I should be too poor to
have myself called mylady by more than one or two
servants. How ? Have you ever seen that our Lady
had so much ? What need for it to be known that
you are of good family according to the -world, if you

are of the household of God ? Oh ! but I should like
to found some house of piety, or at least give some
assistance to such a house ; for, being infirm in body,
they would then more willingly keep me. Ah now !
it comes out,
my dearest daughter. I knew very well
your piety was making a plank for self-love, so pite-
ously human is it. In fact, we do not love crosses,
unless they are in gold, with pearls and enamel. It
is a rich, a most devout, and admirably spiritual

abjection to be regarded in a congregation as foun
dress, or at least great benefactress ! Lucifer would

have been willing to remain in heaven on that con
dition. But to live on alms, like our Lord, to take
the charity of others in our illnesses, being by birth
and in spirit so and so, this certainly is very trying
and hard. It is hard to man, but not to the Son of
God, who do it in you.
will
But not a good thing to have of one s own to

is it
employ at one s will in the service of God ? The

expression at one s will (a son gre) makes our differ-
ence clear. But I say, at your will, my father ;

for
I am always your child, God having willed it so.
Well, then, my you content yourself with

will is that
what M. N. and Madame N. think proper, and

that you leave the rest, for the love of God and the
edification of your neighbour, and the peace of the

it thus
ladies, your sisters, and that you consecrate
to the love of your neighbour and the glory of the
Christian spirit. O God ! what blessings, graces,
spiritual riches for your soul, my dearest daughter.
If you do this you abound and superabound
will :
God will bless your little, and it will satisfy you :
no, no, it is not difficult to God to do as much with
five barley loaves, as Solomon with all his cooks and

purveyors. Remain in peace. I am quite unchange
ably your true servant and father.
LETTER XI.
To A YOUNG LADY.
The Saint endeavours to turn her away from a suit which she
thought of instituting against one who had promised to
marry Jier and broken his word.
ON the first part of the letter you have written to

Madame N. and which you wished to be communi
cated to me, my dearest daughter, I will say that if
M. N. made to you no other assertions than those

you give, and if the matter were before us, we should
condemn him to espouse you, under heavy penalties ;
for he no right, on account of considerations

has
which he could and should have made before his pro
mise, to break his word. But I do not know how
things go over there, where often the rules which we
have in our ecclesiastical affairs are not known.
Meantime, my dearest daughter, my desire to dis
suade you from prosecuting this wretched suit did
not arise from distrust of your good right, but from
the aversion and bad opinion I have of all processes
and contentions. Truly the result of a process must
be marvellously happy, to make up for the expense,
the bitterness, the eager excitements, the dissipation
of heart, the atmosphere of reproaches, and the multi
tude of inconveniences whichprosecutions usually
bring. Above all I consider worrying and useless,
yea, injurious, the suits which arise from injurious

words and breaches of promise when there is no real
interest at stake ; because suits, instead of putting

down insults, publish them, increase and continue
them ;
and instead of causing the fulfilment of pro
mises drive to the other extreme.
Look, dear daughter, I consider that in real

my
truth the contempt of contempt is the testimony of
generosity which we give by our disdain of the weak

ness and inconstancy of those who break the faith
they have given us it is the best remedy of all.
:
Most more happily met by the contempt

injuries are
which is shown for them than by any other means ;
the blame lies rather with the injurer than with the
injured. But now, withal, these are my general

sentiments, which perhaps are not proper in the par
ticular state inwhich your affairs are and following ;
good advice, taken on the consideration of the par

ticular circumstances which present themselves, you
cannot go wrong.
I will then pray our Lord to give you a good and
holy issue to this affair, that you may arrive at the
port of a solid and constant tranquillity of heart,

which can only be obtained in God, in whose holy
love I wish that you may more and more progress.
God bless you with his great blessings, that is, my
dear child, God make you perfectly his. I am in
him your very affectionate, &c.

I salute with all my heart your father, whom I
cherish with a quite special love and honour, and
madam your dear sister.
LETTER XII.
To THE SAME.
Fresh counsels on the same subject.
How grieved am I, my dearest daughter, not to have

received your last letter ;
but our dear Madame N.
having told me the state of your affairs, I
tell you
from my heart, from a heart which is

entirely devoted
to yours, that you must not be obstinately set on
going to law; you will spend your time in this use

lessly, and your heart also, which is worse.
Faith given to you has been broken he who has :
broken it has all the more sin. Do you wish, on

that account, to engage yourself in so ill an occupa
tion as that of a wretched lawsuit? You will be but
poorly revenged, if after having suffered this wrong,
you lose your tranquillity, your time, and the peace

of your interior.
You could not show greater courage than in de
spising insults. Happy they who are left free at the

cost of the less trying ones ! Exclaim as S. Francis
did when his father rejected him,
"
Ah ! I will say
then with more confidence, Our Father who art in
heaven, as I have no longer one on earth." And

you ;
ah ! I will say with more confidence :
my spouse,
my love, who is in heaven.
Preserve your peace, and be content with Divine
Providence, which brings you back to the port from

which you were departing. As you were intending
to act, instead of a prosperous
voyage you might have
perhaps met with a great shipwreck. Receive this
advice from a friend who cherishes
you very purely
and very sincerely and I pray God to load you with
;
blessings. In haste, I salute our dear sister.

3o St. Francis de Sales.
LETTER XIII.
To A YOUNG LADY.
of prayer comes from heaven, and we must prepare

The our
ffift
selvesfor it with care ; by it we put ourselves in the pre
sence of God. How a young person should behave when
her parents oppose her desire of becoming a religious.
MADEMOISELLE, Some time ago I received one of

which I much value, because it testifies
your letters,
to the confidence you have in my love, which indeed
is really yours, doubt not. I only regret that I am
very little
capable of answering what you ask me
concerning your troubles in prayer. I know that
you are where you cannot lack anything in this kind ;

but charity, which loves to communicate itself, makes
you ask mine in giving me yours. I will therefore
say something to you.

The disquietude you have in prayer, which is joined
with a very eager anxiety to find some object which
may content your spirit, is enough, of itself, to hinder

you from getting what you seek. We pass our hand
and our eyes a hundred times over a thing, without
noticing it at all, when we seek it with too much
excitement.
From and useless eagerness you can only
this vain
incur lassitude of spirit and hence this coldness and

;
numbness of your soul. I know not the remedies
you should use, but I feel sure that if you can pre
vent this eagerness you will gain much ; for it is one
of the greatest traitors which devotion and true virtue

can meet with. It pretends to excite us to good, but
it is
only to make us tepid, and only makes us run
in order to make us stumble. This is why we must
always beware of it, and specially in prayer.
And to aid yourself in this, remember that the
graces and goods of prayer are not waters of earth

but of heaven, and that thus all our efforts cannot
obtain them. Of course, we must dispose ourselves
for them with a great care, but a humble and quiet
care. We must keep our hearts open to heaven, and
await the holy dew. And never forget to carry to
prayer this consideration, that in it we approach God,

and put ourselves in his presence for two principal
reasons.
1. To give God the honour and homage we owe
him ;
and this can be done without his speaking to us
or we to him : for this duty is paid by remembering
that he is our God, and we his vile creatures, and by
remaining prostrate in spirit before him, awaiting his
commands.
How many courtiers go a hundred times into the
presence of the king, not to hear him or speak to him,
but simply to be seen by him, and to testify by this
assiduity that they are his servants? And this end

in prostrating ourselves before God, only to testify
and protest our will and gratitude is very excellent,
holy, and pure, and therefore of the greatest perfec
tion.
2. To speak with him, and hear him speak to us

bv and interior movements, and gene

his inspirations
rally this with a very delicious pleasure, because

is
it is a great good for us to speak to so great

a Lord ;
and when he answers he spreads abroad a thousand

precious balms and unguents, which give great sweet
ness to the soul.
daughter, as you wish me to speak thus,

"Well, my
one of these two goods can never fail you in prayer.
If we can speak to our Lord, let us speak, let us
praise him, beseech him,

listen to him ;
if we cannot
use our voice, still let us stay in the room and do

reverence to him ;
he will see us there, he will accept
our patience, and will favour our silence ; another
time we shall be quite amazed to be taken by the

hand and he will converse with us, and will make a
hundred turns with us in the walks of his garden of
prayer. And if he should never do this, let us be
content with our duty of being in his suite, and with

the great grace and too great honour he does us in
suffering our presence.
Thus we shall not be over-eager to speak to him,
since it is not less useful for us to be with him ; yea,
it ismore useful though not so much to our taste.
When, then, you come to him, speak to him if you can ;
if you cannot, stay there be seen, and care for no

;
thing else. Such is my advice, I do not know if it is
good, but I am not too much concerned about it, be

cause, as I have said, you are where much better
advice cannot fail you.
As to your fear that your father may make you
lose your desire to be a Carmelite, by the long time

he fixes, say to God: Lord, all my desire is before you*
and let him act ;
he will turn your father s heart arid
arrange for his own glory and your good. Mean

while nourish your good desire, and keep it alive under
the ashes of humility and resignation to the will of
God.
Myprayers which you ask, are not wanting to you;
for I could not forget you, especially at Holy Mass ;
I trust to your charity not to be forgotten in yours.
LETTER XIV.
To A YOUNG LADY.
Whom we are to consult about entering religion.
Annecy, $rd July, 1612.
MADEMOISELLE, You think that your desire to enter

religion not
is
according to God s will, because you
do not find it agree with that of the persons who have
the power to command and the duty to guide you.
If this refers to those who have from God the power
and duty to guide your soul and to command you in
spiritual things, you are certainly In obeying
right.
them you cannot err, although they may err and
advise you badly, they look principally to any thing
if
else than your salvation and spiritual progress. But

if you mean those whom God has given you for
* Ps. xxxvii. 10.
34 -SV. Francis de Sales.
directors in temporal and domestic things, you are

wrong when you. trust them in things in which they
have no authority over you. If we had to hear the
advice of our relatives, of and blood, in such

flesh
circumstances, there would be few who would embrace

the perfection of the Christian life. This is the first
point.
The second you have not only desired
is, that as
to leave the world, but would again desire it if allowed
by those who have kept you back, it is a clear sign

that God wishes your departure, since he continues
his inspirations amid so many contradictions. Your
heart, touched by the load-stone, always points to
wards the pole-star, though quickly turned aside by
impediments of earth. For, what would your heart
say, if unhindered ? Would it not say Let us -go :
from amongst those of the world ? This then is still
its inspiration ;
but being hindered it cannot or dares
not say thus. Give it its liberty before it speaks,
for it could not speak better things, and this secret
it says, so quietly to itself I should like, I should

:
greatly wish to leave the world this is the true will
of God.
In this you are wrong (pardon my straightforward
liberty of speech) in this, I say, you are wrong, to
call what hinders the execution of this desire the will
of God, and the power of those who hinder you, the

power of God.
The third point of my counsel is that you are not
at all wrong with God, since the desire of retreat
which he has given is

always in your heart, though
hindered from its effect. The balance of your mind
inclines that way, though a finger is placed on the
other side to hinder the proper weighing.
The fourth that if your first desire has been in
any way wrong, you must mend it, and not break it.
I amgiven to understand that you have offered half

your property, or the price of that house which is now
dedicated to God. Perhaps this was too much, con
sidering that you have a sister with a large family,
for which, by the order of charity, you should rather
employ your property. So then, you must reduce

this excess, and come to this house with a part of
your income, as much as is

necessary for quiet living,
leaving all the like, and even reserving
rest as you
the above-named part, after your death, for those to
whom you may wish to do good. Thus you will
guard against extremes and keep to your design, and
all will go gaily, gently, and holily.
In fine, take courage, and make a good absolute
resolution ; though it is not a sin to remain thus
in these weaknesses,still, you lose good chances of
making progress and of gaining very desirable con

solations.
I have informed you exactly of my opinion, think
ing you will do me the favour not to think it wrong
of me. God give you the holy benedictions I wish
you, and the sweet correspondence he desires from
your heart, and I am in him, with all sincerity,

Mademoiselle, your, &c.
D 2
36 St. Prancis de Sales.
LETTER XV.
To A YOUNG LADY.
The Saint invites her to follow God s inspiration, and to
consecrate herself to him.

1619.
MADEMOISELLE, You made me promise, and I faith

fully keep my word. I beg God to give you his holy
strength, generously to break all the ties which hinder

your heart from following his heavenly attractions.
My God the truth must be told it is sad to see a
!
;
dear little bee, caught in the vile web of spiders.
But, if a favourable wind break this frail net and

cruel threads, why should not this dear little bee
loosen itself and get out, and hasten to make its sweet
honey ?
You see, dearest daughter, my thoughts : make

yours known to this Saviour who
calls you. I can
not help loving your soul, which I know to be good,
and cannot but wish it that most desirable gift the
love of generous perfection. I remember the tears
you shed when, saying to you Adieu (A-Dieu, liter

ally, to God), I wished you to be A-Dieu. And you,
to be more A-Dieu, said Adieu to all that is not for
God (pour Dieu). Meanwhile I assure you, my
dearest daughter, that I am greatly your servant in
God.
Letters to Yoimg Ladies. 37
LETTER XVI.
To A YOUNG LADY.
The Saint exhorts her to give herself entirely to God.
The Eve of our Lady s, Sth September, 1619.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, I say to you with all my

heart, Adieu-, may you ever be "to God" in this mor
tal life, serving him faithfully in the pain of carrying
the cross after him here, and in the heavenly life*
blessing him eternally with all the heavenly court.
It is the great good of our souls to be "to
God," and
the greatest good to be only "to God."
He who is
only to God" is never sorrowful, except
"
for having offended God; and his sorrow for that

dwells in a deep, but tranquil and peaceful humility
and submission. Then he raises himself up in the
Divine goodness, by a sweet and perfect confidence,
without annoyance or bitterness.
He who is
"
God"
only, seeks him only ; and
to
because God not less in adversity than prosperity,
is
such a one remains at peace in adversity.

He who is
"
to God"
only, often thinks of him
amidst all the occupations of this life.
He who is "
to God"
only, wishes every one to
know whom he serves, and tries to take the means
proper for remaining united to him.

Be then all to God," my dearest daughter, and be
"
only his, only wishing to please him, and his creatures

in him, according to him, and for him. What greater
blessing can I wish you ? Thus, then, by this desire,

which I will unceasingly make for your soul, my
dearest daughter, I say to you
"
A-Dieu and praying

"
you often to recommend me to his mercy, I remain
your, &c.
LETTER XVII.
To A YOUNG LADY.
The Saint exhorts her to keep her good resolutions. The lest
Afflictions are those which humble us. Means to acquire

fervour in prayer.
MADEMOISELLE, I will gladly keep the copy of your

vow, and God will keep the fulfilment of it. He was
its author, and he will be its keeper. I will often
make for this end Augustine prayer Alas Lord,
St. s : !
here is a little chicken hidden under the wings of your
grace : if it gets out of the shadow of its mother the

kite will seize it. Let it then live by the help and
protection of the grace which brought it forth. But
look, my sister, you must not even think whether this
resolution will be lasting; this must be held as so
certain and settled that there can no longer be any
doubt of it.
You do me a great favour in telling me a word

about your inclinations. However slight these may
be, they injure our soul, when they are ill regulated.
Keep them in check, and do not think them of small
Letters to Yoimg Ladies. 39
account ;
for they are of much weight, in the scales
of the sanctuary.
The desire to avoid occasions is not to be gratified
in this matter ; for it makes us give up real earnestness
in fighting. This latter is a necessity, while the former

isimpossible ;
is no danger of
moreover, where there
mortal sin, we must not flee, but must conquer all our
enemies, and keep on, not losing heart, even if some
times beaten.
Yes, truly, my dear daughter, expect from me all
that you can expect from a true father; for I have,

indeed, just such affection for you ; you will know it
as we advance, God helping.
So then, my good daughter, here you are afflicted,
in just the proper way to serve God. Afflictions with
out abjection often puff the heart up instead of hum
bling it, but when we suffer evil without honour, or

when dishonour itself, contempt and abjection are our
evil, what occasions have we of exercising patience,

humility, modesty, and sweetness of heart !
The glorious St. Paul rejoiced, and with a holy, and

glorious humility, in that he and hiscompanions were
esteemed as the sweepings and rakings of the world.
You have still, you tell me, a very lively sense of
injuries ; but, my dear daughter, this still/ what
"
does it refer to? Have you already done much in

conquering those enemies ? I mean by this to remind
you that we must have good courage and a good heart

to do better in the future, since we are only beginning,
though we have a good desire to do well.

4O St. Francis de Sales.
In order to become fervent in prayer, desire very

much to be so, willingly read the praises of prayer,
which are given in many books, in Granada, the
beginning of Bellintam, and elsewhere; because the
appetite for food makes us very pleased to eat it.
You are very happy, my child, in having devoted

yourself to God. Do you remember what St. Francis
said when his father stripped him before the Bishop of
Assisi ?
"
Now, therefore, I can well say : Our father
who art in heaven/ David says :

My father and
mother have left me, but the Lord has taken me up.*
Make no apology for writing to me, there is no
need, since I am, so willingly, devoted to your soul.
May God bless it with his great blessings and make it
all his !
Amen.
LETTER XVIIT.
To A YOUNG LADY WHO FOUND OBSTACLES TO HER

DESIRE TO BE A RELIGIOUS.
We must "be
always aUe to say to God : u Thy will ~be done"
MADEMOISELLE, You should resign yourself entirely

into the hands of the good God, who, when you have
done your little duty about this inspiration and design
which you have, will be pleased with whatever you do,
even if it be much less. In a word, you must have
* Ps. xxvi. 10.
Letters to Yoitng Ladies. 41
courage to do everything to become a religious, since

God gives you such a desire but if after all your
:
you cannot succeed, you could not please our

efforts
Lord more than by sacrificing to him your will, and

remaining in tranquillity, humility, and devotion, en
tirely conformed and submissive to his divine will and
good pleasure, which you will recognize clearly enough
when, having done your best, you cannot fulfil your
desires.
For our good God sometimes our courage and

tries
our love, depriving us of the things which seem to us,

and which really are, very good for the soul ; and if he
and yet humble, tran
sees us ardent in their pursuit,
quil, and resigned to the doing without and to the

privation of the thing sought, he gives us blessings
greater in the privation than in the possession of the
thing desired ; for in all, and everywhere, God loves
those who with good heart, and simply, on all occa
sions, and in all events, can say to him,

THY WILL BE DONE.
LETTER XIX.
To A POSTULANT.
He praises her for wishing to enter the Order of the Visitation.
Annecy, 6th March, 1622.

I HAVE never seen you, my dearest daughter, so far as
I know, except upon the mountain of Calvary, where
reside the hearts which the heavenly Spouse favours
with his divine loves. O how happy are you, my

dearest daughter, so faithfully and lovingly to have
chosen this dwelling-place to adore the crucified Jesus
in this life For thus you are assured of adoring
!
Jesus Christ glorified in the next.
But, look you, the inhabitants of this hill must be

despoiled of all worldly habits and affections, as their
king was of the garments which he wore when he got

there. These, though they had been holy, had been
profaned when the executioners stripped them off in
the house of Pilate.
Beware, my dear child, of entering into the banquet

of the cross, a thousand thousand times more delicious
than secular marriage feasts, without the pure white
robe, clear of all intention save to please the Lamb.
O my dear child, how lovely is heaven s eternity, and
how miserable are the moments of earth !
Aspire con
tinually to this eternity, and boldly despise this failing
scene, and the moments of this mortality.
Let not yourself be misled by fears of past errors, or

of future hardships in this crucified life of religion.
Say not : how can I forget the world and the things
of the world For your heavenly Father knows that
?
you have need of this oblivion, and will give it to you

if, as a daughter of confidence, you throw yourself into
his arms entirely and faithfully.

Our mother, your superior, writes to me that you
have very good natural inclinations. My child, they
are goods, for the management of which you will have
to give account; be careful to use them in the service
of him who has given them to you. Plant on this

wild stock the grafts of the eternal love which God is
ready to give you, if by perfect abnegation of self you
dispose yourself to receive them. All the rest I have

said to our mother. To you I have no more to say,
save that, as God wills it, I am with all my heart,
your, &c.
BOOK II.
LETTERS TO MARRIED WOMEN.
LETTER I.
To A YOUNG MARRIED LADY.
The Saint congratulates her on her marriage, and gives her advice
on the duties of her state.
i2tk March 1613.
MAY God be blessed and glorified in this change of

statewhich you have made for his name, my dearest
daughter and I still say dearest daughter because this
;
change changes nothing in the truly paternal affection

which I have given to you. You will find that if you
have a perfect resignation of your soul to the pro
vidence and will of our Lord, you will advance in this
vocation, you willhave much consolation, and will be

come at last very holy. It was what was necessary
for your soul, as you have met a gentleman so full of
good dispositions.
You are wrong to have a scruple about breaking
the fast, as the doctor s advice requires it.
Guide yourself, as regards communion, by the wish

of your confessor ; for you must give him this satis

faction, and you will lose nothing for what you may
;
lack as regards receiving the holy Sacrament, you will

find in submission and obedience. As a rule of life I
will only give you what is in the book * but if God
disposes so that I can see you, and if there is any kind
of difficulty, I will answer you.
There is no need for you to write me your con
fession : if you should have some special point on which
you want to consult with my heart, which is all
yours,
you can write.
Bevery gentle ; do not live by humours and incli

nations, but by reason and devotion. Love your
husband tenderly, as having been given to you by the
hand of our Lord.
Be very humble towards all you must take great
;
care to bring your spirit to peace and tranquillity, and
to choke bad inclinations by attention to the practice

of the contrary virtues, resolving to be more diligent,
attentive, and active in the practice of virtues ; and
note these four words that I am going to say to you :
your trouble comes from this, that you rather fear
vices than love virtues.

If you could but the deep part of your soul to
stir
love the practice of gentleness and true humility, my

dear daughter, you would be admirable ; but it is
necessary to often think about it. Make the morning
preparation,t and in general make the spiritual life a

part of your regular duty ; God will repay you with a
* The Introduction.
f Introd. ii. 10.
Letters to Married Women. 47
thousand consolations. But you must not forget to
often up your heart to God, and your thoughts to

lift
eternity. Read a little every day, I beg you, in the

name of God do so for me, who every day recom
;
mends you to God, and I beg his infinite goodness to

bless you for ever, your, &c.
LETTER II.
To A MARRIED LADY.
Advantages of a holy marriage ; how ivc ought to live in that

state.
At Lyons, the Eve of our Lady s, 8th September , 1612.
MADAM, The hope which I have always had, from a

till now, of going into France, has held me
year ago
back from reminding you by letter of my inviolable
affection toyour service, as I thought some happy
chance would give me the means of paying you this
duty in person ; but now that I hardly any longer hope
for this good, and this trusty bearer gives me so safe
an opportunity, I rejoice with you, my dearest
daughter for that word is more cordial.

and I praise our Lord for the good and
I rejoice
happy marriage you have made, which will serve you

as a foundation whereon to build and erect for
your
self a sweet and agreeable life in this world, and to
most holy fear of

pass happily this mortality in the
God, in which by his grace you have been nourished

from your cradle. Everybody tells me that your

husband is one of the best and most accomplished
chevaliers of France,and that your union is not only
formed by a holy friendship which will ever tighten
it more and more, but also blessed with fertility.
You must then correspond to all the favours of
heaven, my dearest child ;

for they are without doubt
given you that you may profit by them unto the glory
of him that gave them to you, and your own salvation.
I am sure, my dearest daughter, that you employ jour
strength for this, knowing that on this depends the

happiness of your household and of yourself, in this
fleeting life, and the assurance of immortal life after
this.
Well, now, in this new state of marriage in which
you are, renew often the resolution we have made of

living virtuously and holily, in whatever state God
might place us.
And you think good, continue to favour me with
if
your filial love, as on my part, I assure you, my

dearest daughter, that having my heart filled with
paternal affection, I never celebrate the most Holy

Mass without very particularly recommending to God
you and your worthy husband, to whom I am, and
always will be, as I am to you, Madam, your very
humble, &c.
LETTER III.
To A MARRIED LADY.
The Vintage. Stvcct, peaceful } and tranquil love.
MADAM, I am told that you are well into your vintage.

God be praised. My heart must tell you a word
which I said the other day to a lady who is also
making her vintage, and who indeed is one of your
dearest cousins.
In the Canticle of Canticles the Beloved, speaking
to her Divine Spouse, says that his breasts are better than
wine, fragrant with precious ointments* But what

breasts are these of the Spouse ?
They are his grace
and his promise ; for he has his bosom, amorous of

our salvation, full of graces, which he lets flow from
hour to hour, yea from moment to moment, into our
spirits, and if we will reflect upon it we shall find that
so it is. On the other side, he has the promise of

eternal life, with which, as with a holy and pleasant
milk, he feeds our hope, as with his grace he feeds our

love.
This precious liquor is far more delicious than wine.
Now, we make wine by pressing the grapes, so we

as
spiritually make wine by pressing the grace of God

and his promises and to press the grace of God, we
;
must multiply prayer by quick, but energetic move

ments of our hearts ; and to press his promise we
must multiply the works of charity ; for it is these to
* Cant. i. 1,2.
which God will give the effect of his promises ;

I was
sick, and you did visit me* will he say. All things
have their season ;
we must press the wine in both
these vintages ;
but we must
press without impatience
3
(presser sans s
empresser) , take pains without disquie
tude. Considering,, again, my dear daughter, that
the breasts of the Spouse are his side pierced on the
cross O
God, how twisted a branch is this cross,
but how well loaded There is only one bunch, but
!
worth a thousand. How many grapes have holy

souls found therein by the consideration of the many
graces and virtues which this Saviour of the world
has produced there !
Make good and abundant vintage, my dear

a
daughter, and may the one serve you as ladder and

passage to the other. St. Francis loved lambs and
sheep because they represented to him his dear Sa

viour and I wish that we should love this temporal
;
vintage, not only because it is an answer to the

prayer we make every day for our daily bread, but
also, and much more, because it raises us up to the
spiritual vintage.
Keep your heart full of love, but of a love sweet,

peaceful, and sedate. Regard your own faults, like
those of others, with compassion rather than with
indignation, with more humility than severity.

Adieu, Madam, you have wholly
live joyously, since
dedicated yourself immortal joy, which is God

to
himself, who wants to live and reign for ever in the

* Mat. xxv.
36.
Letters to Married Women. 5 1
midst of our hearts. I am, in him, and by him,

your, &c.
LETTER IV.
To MADAM, WIFE OF PRESIDENT BRULART.
True devotion and the practice of it.
qth October, 1604.

MADAM, It has been an extreme pleasure to me to
have had and read your letter I should like mine
:
to give you a return of pleasure, and particularly to
remedy the disquietudes which have arisen in your

spirit since our separation. God deign to inspire
me.
I have told you once, and I recall it very well, that
I had found in your general confession all the marks
of a true, good, and solid confession, and that I had
never received one that had contented me so entirely.
It is the true truth, Madam, my dear sister, and be
sure that on such occasions I speak very exactly.
If you have omitted to mention something, reflect
whether this has been with knowledge and voluntarily :
for in that case you must certainly make your con

fession again, if what you omitted was a mortal sin,
or if you thought at the time that it was ; but if it was
only a venial sin, or if you omitted it through forgetful-
ness or lack of memory, do not be afraid, my dear sister.
You are not bound, I say it at the hazard of my soul,
E 2
to confession again, but it will do to men

make your
tion to your ordinary confessor the point you have
left out. I answer for it. Again, do not be afraid
of not having used as much diligence as was required
for your general confession j for I tell you again very
clearly and confidently, that if you have made no
voluntary omission you have no need at all to make
again a confession which has really been very suffi
ciently made, so be at peace about that matter. And

ifyou will discuss the matter with the Father Rector,
he will tell you the same about it ; for it is the senti
ment of the Church our Mother. The rules of the
Rosary and the Cord oblige neither under mortal nor

under venial sin, directly or indirectly j and if you do
not observe them you no more commit a sin than by
omitting to do any other good work. Do not then
distress yourself at all about them, but serve God
gaily with liberty of spirit.
You ask me what means you must use to gain
devotion and peace of soul. My dear sister, you ask
me no thing ; but I will try to tell you some
little
thing about it, because my duty to you requires it.
But take good notice of what I say.

The virtue of devotion is no other thing than a
general inclination and readiness of the soul to do what
it knows to be agreeable to God. It is that enlarge
ment of heart of which David said / have run the way :
of your Commandments when you have enlarged my

heart*
* Ps. cxviii. 32.
Those who are simply good people walk in the way

of God; but the devout run, and when they are very
devout they fly. Now, I will tell you some rules which
you must keep if you would be truly devout.

Before all it is
necessary to keep the general com
mandments of God and the Church, which are made
for every faithful Christian ; without this there can be
no devotion in the world. That, every one knows.
Besides the general commandments, it is necessary
carefully to observe the particular commandments
which each person has in regard to his vocation, and
whoever observes not this, if he should raise the dead,
does not cease to be in sin and to be damned if he die
in it. As, for example, it is commanded to bishops to
visit their to teach, console; I
sheep, correct, may
pass the whole week in prayer, I may fast all my life,
if I do not do that, I am lost ....

These are the two sorts of commandments which
we must carefully keep as the foundation of all devo
tion, and yet the virtue of devotion does not consist
in observing them, but in
observing them with readiness
and willingly. Now to gain this readiness we must
make several considerations.
The first is that God wills it so; and it is indeed
reasonable that we should do we are
his will, for
in this world Alas every day we ask
only for that. !
him that his will may be done and when it comes to

;
the doing, we have such difficulty We offer our !
selves to God so often, we

say to him at every step :
Lord, I am yours, here is my heart, and when he

wants to make use of us, we are so cowardly ! How

can we say we are his, if we are unwilling to accom
modate our will to his?
The second consideration is to think of the nature
of the commandments of God, which are mild, gra
cious, and sweet, not only the general but also the
particular ones of our vocation. And what is it then

which makes them burdensome to you ? Nothing, in
truth, save your own will, which desires to reign in
you at any cost. And the things which perhaps it
would desire if they were not commanded, being com

manded, it rejects.
Of a hundred thousand delicious fruits, Eve chose

that which had been forbidden to her; and doubtless
if it had been allowed, she would not have eaten of
it. The fact is, in a word, that we want to serve God,
but after our will, and not after his.
Saul was commanded to spoil and ruin all he found

in Amalek : he destroyed all, except what was precious ;
this he reserved, and offered in sacrifice, but God de

clared that he would have no sacrifice against obedience.
God commands me to help souls, and I want to rest in
contemplation the contemplative life is good, but not

:
in prejudice of obedience we are not to choose at

:
our own will. We must wish what God wishes; and

if God wishes me to serve him in one thing, I ought
not to wish to serve him in another. God wishes
Saul to serve him as king and as captain, and Saul
wishes to serve him as priest there is no doubt :
that the latter is more excellent than the former :

but yet God does not care about that, he wants to be
obeyed.
Just look at this ! God had given manna to the
Children of a very delicious meat
Israel,, and lo : !
they will none of it, but, in their desires, seek after
the garlics and onions of Egypt. It is pur wretched

nature which always wishes its own will to be done,
and not the will of God. Now, in proportion as we
have less of our own will, that of God is more easily
observed.
We must consider that there is no vocation which
has not its irksomenesses, its bitternesses, and disgusts :
and what is more, except those who are fully resigned

to the will of God, each one would willingly change
his condition for that of others : those who are bishops
would like not to be; those who are married would
like not to be, and those who are not would like to be.
Whence this general disquietude of souls, if not from
a certain dislike of constraint and a perversity of spirit
which makes us think that each one is better off than
we ?
But all comes to the same : whoever is not fully
resigned, let him turn himself here or there, he will

never have rest. Those who have fever find no place
comfortable; they have not stayed a quarter of an
hour in one bed when they want to be in another it ;
is not the bed which is at fault, but the fever which

everywhere torments them. A
person who has not
the fever of self-will is satisfied with everything, pro
vided that God is served. He cares not in what

quality God employs him, provided that he does the

Divine will. It is all one to him.
But this is not all we must not only will to do
:
the will of God : but in order to be devout, we must

do it
gaily. If I were not a bishop, knowing what I
know, I should not wish to be one ; but being one,

not only am I obliged to do what this trying vocation
requires, but I must do it

joyously, and must take
pleasure in it and be contented. It is the saying of
St. Paul : Let each one stay in his vocation before
God.*
We
have not to carry the cross of others, but our
own; and that each may carry his own, our Lord
wishes him to renounce himself, that is, his own will.
I should like this or that, I should be better here or
there those are temptations.
: Our Lord knows well
what he does, let us do what he wills, let us stay where
he has placed us.
But, my good daughter, allow me to speak to you
according to my heart, for so I love you. You would
like to have some little practice to regulate yourself by.
Besides what I have told you to reflect upon,
1. Make a meditation every day, either in the
morning before dinner, or an hour or two before supper,
and this on the life and death of our Lord and for ;
this purpose use Bellintani the Capuchin, or Bruno

the Jesuit. Your meditation should last only a good
half-hour, and not more : at the end of which add
always a consideration of the obedience which our
* 1 Cor. vii. 24.
Lord showed towards God his father : for you will find
that all he has done, he did to fulfil the will of his

Father ;
and on this make effort (evertusz-vous) to gain
for yourself a great love of the will of God.
2. Before doing, or preparing to do, things in your
vocation which are trials to you, think that the Saints
have gaily done things far greater and harder some :
have suffered martyrdom, others the dishonour of the

Avorld. and many religious of our age have
St. Francis
kissed and kissed again a thousand times those afflicted

with leprosy and ulcers ; others have confined them
selves to the deserts ; others to the galleys with soldiers ;
and all this to do what pleases God. And what do we

that approaches in difficulty to this ?
3. Think often that all we do has its true value

from our conformity with the will of God : so that in
eating and drinking, if I do it because it is the will

of God for me to do it, I am more agreeable to God
than if I suffered death without that intention.
4. I often, during the day, to ask God

would wish you
to giveyou the love of your vocation, and to say like St.
Paul when he was converted Lord, what will you have :
me to do ?* Will you have me serve you in the vilest
ministry of your house ? Ah I shall consider myself !
too happy provided that I serve you, I do not care

:
in what it
may be. And coming to the particular
thing that troubles you, say Will you that I do such :
or such a thing? Ah Lord, though I am not worthy!
to do it, I will do it most willingly : and thus you

*
Acts, ix. 6.
greatly humble yourself. O my God ! what a treasure

you will gain !
greater, without doubt, than you can
imagine.
5. I would wish you to consider how many Saints
have been in your vocation and state, and how they
have accommodated themselves to it with great sweet
ness and resignation, both under the New and the Old
Testament. Sara, Rebecca, Anne, St. St. Elizabeth,
St.Monica, St. Paula, and a hundred thousand others :
and let this encourage you, recommending yourself to

their prayers.
We must love what God loves ; now, he loves our
vocation ; let us also love it, and not occupy ourselves
with thinking on that of others. Let us do our duty;
each one s cross is not too much for him mingle :
sweetly the office of Martha with that of Magdalen ;
do diligently the service of your vocation, and often

return to yourself, and put yourself in spirit at the
feet of our Lord, and say my Lord, whether I run
:
or stay I am yours and you mine

all you are rny :
first spouse ;
and whatever I do is for love of you, both
this and that.
You will see the exercise of prayer which I am

sending to Madame du Puy-d Orbe :
copy it, and make
use of it ;
for so I wish.
making half an hour s prayer every

I think that
morning you should content yourself with hearing one

Mass a day, and reading during the day for half an hour
some spiritual book, such as Granada or some other
good author.
In the evening make the examination of conscience,

and all the day long, ejaculatory prayers. Read much
the Spiritual Combat ; I recommend it to you. On
Sundays and feasts, you can, besides Mass, hear Vespers
(but not under obligation) and the sermon.
Do not forget to confess every week, and when you
have any great trouble of conscience. As for Com
munion, if it is not agreeable to Monsieur your husband,
do not exceed, for the present, the limits of what we
fixed at Saint Claude :
keep steadfast, and communicate
spiritually : God will take, as sufficient for the present,
the preparation of your heart.

Remember what I have often said to you : do honour
to your devotion ; make it
very amiable to all those
who may know you, especially to your family : act so
that every one may speak well of it. My God ! how

happy you are to have a husband so reasonable and so
compliant ! You should indeed praise God for it.
\Vhen any contradiction comes upon you, thoroughly

resign yourself unto our Lord, and console yourself,
knowing that his favours are only for the good or for
those who put themselves in the way of becoming so.
For the rest, know that my spirit is all

yours. God
knows if ever I forget you, or your whole family, in
my weak prayers : I have you deeply graven in my

soul. May God be your heart and your life.
LETTER V.
To THE SAME.
Means to arrive at perfection in the state of marriage.
MADAM, I cannot give you all at once what I have
promised, because I have not sufficient free hours to

put together all I have to tell you on the subject you
want me to explain. I will tell it
you at several times :
and besides the convenience to me, you will find the
advantage of having time to ruminate my advice
properly.
You have a great desire of Christian perfection : it
is the most generous desire you can have : feed it and

increase it every day. The means of gaining perfection
are various according to the variety of vocations : for
religious, widows and married persons must all seek

after this perfection, but not by the same means. For
to you, madam, who are married, the means are to
unite yourself closely God, and your neighbour,
to
and to what belongs to them. The means to unite

yourself to God are, chiefly, the use of the Sacraments,
and prayer.
As to the use of the Sacraments, you should let no
month go without communicating and even, after ;
some time, and under the advice of your spiritual

fathers, you will be able to communicate more often.
But, as to confession, I advise you to frequent it

even more, especially if you fall into some imperfection
by which your conscience is troubled, as often happens

at the beginning of the spiritual life you have

:
still, if
not convenience of confession, contrition and repent

ance will do.
As you should apply to it much especially
to prayer, ;
to meditation, for which you are, I think, well suited.
Make, then, a short hour every day in the morning

before going out, or else before the evening meal ; and
be very careful not to make it either after dinner or
would hurt your health.
after supper, for that
And to help yourself to do it well, you must pre

viously know the point on which you are to meditate,
that in beginning your prayer you may have your
matter ready, and for this purpose you may have the
authors who have treated the points of meditation on
the and death of our Lord, as Granada, Bellintani,
life
Capiglia, Bruno. Choose the meditation you wish to

make, and read it attentively, so as to remember it at
the time of prayer, and not to have anything more to

do except to recall the points, following always the
method which I gave you on Maunday Thursday.
Besides make ejaculatory prayers to our
this, often
Lord, at every moment you can, and in all companies;

always seeing God in your heart and your heart in
God.
Take pleasure in reading Granada s books on prayer
and meditation for none teach you better, nor with
;
more stirring I should like you

power (mouvement).
to letno day pass without giving half an hour to the
reading of some spiritual book, for this would serve as
a sermon.
These are the chief means to unite yourself closely

to God. Those to unite yourself properly with your
neighbour, are in great number ;
but I will only
mention some of them.
We must regard our neighbour in God, who wills
that we should love and cherish him. It is the counsel

of St. Paul, who orders servants to serve God in their
masters and their masters in God. We must exercise
ourselves in this love of our neighbour, expressing it
externally and though it may seem at first against

:
our will, we must not give up on that account: this
repugnance of the inferior part will be at last con

quered by habit and good inclination, which will be
produced by repetition of the acts. We must refer
our prayers and meditations to this end : for after having
begged the love of God, we must always beg that of

our neighbour, and specially of those to whom our will
is not drawn.
I advise you to take care sometimes to visit the
hospitals, comfort the sick, pity their infirmities, soften
your heart about them, and pray for them, at the same
time giving them some help.
But in all this take particular care that
your hus
band, your servants, and your parents do not suffer
by your too long stayings in church, by your too great
retirement, and giving up care of your household.
And become not, as often happens, manager of others
affairs, or too contemptuous of conversations in which
the rules of devotion are not quite exactly observed.
In all this charity must rule and enlighten us, to make
us condescend to the wishes of our neighbour, in what

isnot against the commandments of God.
You must not only be devout, and love devotion,
but you must make it amiable, useful, and agreeable
to every one. The sick will love your devotion if
they are charitably consoled by it; your family will

love they find you more careful of their good,
it if
more gentle in little accidents that happen, more kind

in correcting, and so on :
your husband, if he sees
that as your devotion increases you more devoted
are
in his regard, and sweet in your love to him your ;
parents and friends if

they perceive you more in
generosity, tolerance, and condescension towards their

wills, when not against the will of God. In short,
you must, as far as possible, make your devotion
attractive.
I have written a little paper on the subject of

the perfection of the Christian life. I send you a
copy of it, which I want you to communicate to

Madame du Puy-d Orbe ;
take
good it in part, as also
this letter, which comes from a soul entirely devoted
to your spiritual good, and which wishes nothing more
than to see the work of God perfect in your spirit.
I beg you to give me some part in your prayers and
communions, as I assure you I will give you, all my
life, share in mine, and will be without end your, &c.
64 5/. Francis de Sales.
LETTER VI.
To THE SAME.
On the rules which we must Tcnow how to impose on our devotion.
MADAM, AND MY SISTER, I wrote to you six weeks
ago to answer all you asked me ; and have no doubt

you got my letter, which will make me more brief in
this.
According to what you propose to me by yours of

the 26th September, I approve that our good abbess*
should begin to fully establish those little rules which
our Pere has drawn up; not indeed so as to stop
there, but so as to advance more easily afterwards to
greater perfection.
As for our little sister, I leave her to you, and put
myself in no trouble about her ; only I should not
likeyour Father to fear she might become too devout,
as he has always had fear of you for I am certain ;
she will not sin by excess on that side. God My !
the good father we have, and the good husband you

have They are a little jealous for their empire and
!
dominion, which seems to them somewhat violated,

when anything is done without their authority and
command. What can be done? we must allow
them this little bit of human nature. They want to
be masters, and is it not right
? Truly it is, in what
belongs to the service which you owe them ; but the
good seigneurs do not consider that in regard to the
* Of
Puy d Orbe.
good of the soul one must believe spiritual doctors

and directors, and that (saving their right) you must
procure your interior good by the means judged fitting
by those appointed to conduct souls.
But still, you must condescend greatly to their will,
bear with their little fancies, and bend as much as,
without spoiling our good designs, you can. These

condescensions will please our Lord. I have told you
before : the less we live after our own taste, and the
less of choice there is in our actions, the more of
solidity and goodness is there in our devotion. We
must sometimes leave our Lord in order to please
others for the love of him.
No, I cannot refrain, my dear child, from telling
you mythought. I know that you will find all
good, because I speak with sincerity. Perhaps you

have given occasion to this good father and this good
husband to mix themselves up with your devotion, and
to be restive (se cabrer) about it ;
I cannot tell how.
Perhaps you are a little too eager and bustling, and

you have wanted to bother and restrict them. If so,
that is without doubt the cause which makes them
now draw in. We must, if possible, avoid making
our devotion troublesome. Now, I will tell you what
you must do. When you can communicate without
troubling your two superiors, do so, according to the
advice of your confessor. When you are afraid that
it will trouble them, communicate in spirit; and be
lieve me this spiritual mortification, this privation of
God, will extremely please God, and will advance

your heart very much. must sometimes take a

"We
step back to get a better spring.

I have often admired the extreme resignation of
St. John who remained so long in the desert,
Baptist,
quite close ourtoLord, without hastening to see

him, to hear him and follow him and I have won ;
dered how, after having seen and baptized him, he

could let Jesus go without attaching himself to him
in body, as he was so closely united to him in heart ?
But he knew that he served this same Lord by this

privation of his real presence. So I say that God
will be served if, for a little, to gain the heart of the
two superiors whom

he has appointed, you suffer the
loss of his real communion ; and it will be to me a
great consolation, if I know that these counsels which

I give you do not disquiet your heart. Believe me,
this resignation, this abnegation will be very useful
to you. You may, however, take advantage of secret
opportunities of communion ; for, provided that you
can defer and accommodate yourself to the will of

these two persons, and do not make them impatient,
I give you no other rule for your communions than
that which your confessors may give you ; for they
see the present state of your interior, and can under
stand what is required for your good.
I answer also about your daughter : let her desire
the most holy communion till Easter, since she can
not receive it before that time without offending her
good father. God will recompense this delay.
You are, as far as I see, in the true way to resigna-

tion and indifference, since you cannot serve God at

your will. I know a lady, one of the greatest souls
I have ever met, who has long remained in such sub
jection to the humours of her husband, that in the
very height of her devotions and ardours, she was

obliged to wear a low dress, and was all loaded with
vanity outside, and except at Easter could never com
municate unless secretly and unknown to every one ;
otherwise she would have excited a thousand storms
in her house and by this road she got very high, as
;
I know, having been her father confessor very often.

Mortify yourself, then, joyously; and in propor
tion as you are hindered from doing the good you
desire, do the good you do not desire. You do not
desire these resignations, you would desire others ;
but do those which you do not desire, for they are

worth more.
The Psalms translated or imitated by Desportes
are in no way forbidden or hurtful to you; on the
contrary, all are profitable read them boldly, and
:
without hesitation, for there is need of none. I con

tradict nobody, but I know quite well these Psalms
are no way forbidden you, and that there is no
in
cause of scruple. Possibly some good father does not

like his spiritual children to read them, and perhaps
he does so on some good ground ; but it does not
follow that there should not be grounds equally good,
and even better, for others to recommend them to
theirs. One thing is certain, that you may read
them on every proper occasion.
F 2
As also, you may enter the cloister of Puy-d/Orbe

without scruple; but at the same time there is no
cause to give yourself a penance for the scruple you
had about it, since the scruple itself is a great enough
pain to those who entertain or suffer it, without im
posing any more.

Alcantara is very good for prayer.
Keep your heart very wide to receive in it all sorts
of crosses and resignations or abnegations, for the
love of him who has received so many of them for
us. May his name be for ever blessed and his king
dom be confirmed for ever and ever ! I am in him,
and by him, your, and more than your, brother and
servant.
LETTER VII.
To A LADY.
He points out to her remedies against impatience in the

accidental troubles of a household.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, Whenever I can manage it

you shall have a letter from me but at present I :
write to you the more readily, because M. Moyron,
my present bearer, is my nearest neighbour in this

town, my great friend and ally, by whom, on his
return, you will be able to write to me in all con

fidence, and if the picture of Mother (St.) Teresa is
finished, he will take it, pay for it, and bring it, as I
have asked him to do.

But, my daughter, I fancy I did not tell you
exactly, in my last letter, what I wanted, concerning
your little but frequent impatiences in the accidents
of your housekeeping. I tell you, then, that you must
pay special attention to this, and that you must keep

yourself gentle in them, and that when you get up in
the morning, or leave prayer, or return from Mass or
Communion, and always when you return to these
domestic affairs, you must be attentive to begin quietly.
Every now and then you must look at your heart, to

see if it is in a state of gentleness : and if it is not,
make it so before all things ;
and if it
you must
is
praise God, and use it in the affairs which present

themselves with a special care not to let it get dis
turbed.
You see, my daughter, those who often eat honey
find bitter things more and sour things more
bitter
sour, and are easily disgusted with coarse meats your :
soul, often
occupying with spiritual exercises
itself
which are sweet and agreeable to the spirit, when it

returns to corporal matters, and material,
exterior
finds them very rough and disagreeable and so it ;
easily gets impatient ; and therefore, my dear daughter,
you must consider in these exercises the will of God,

which is there, and not the mere thing which is done.
Often invoke the unique and lovely dove of the
he would impetrate for you a
celestial spouse, that
true dove s heart; and that you may be a dove, not

7o ,5V. Francis de Sales.
only when flying in prayer, but also inside your nest,

and with all those who are around you. God be for
ever in the midst of your heart, iny dear child, and

make you one same spirit with him !
I salute through you the good mother and all the

Carmelite sisters, imploring the aid of their prayers.
If I knew that our dear Sister Jacob were there, I
would salute her also, and her little Fran9on; as I do
your Magdalen, who is also mine.
Vive Jesus.
LETTER VIII.
To A LADY.
Advice on the choice of a confessor. Practice for preserving
peace and gentleness in domestic affairs.
MY DEAR SISTER, MY CHILD, I answer only the two

letters which this bearer has given me from you for ;
the third, sent me by Madame de Chantal, has not yet

reached me. It is a great satisfaction to me that you
live without scruple, and that the holy Communion is
profitable to you ; wherefore you must continue

it :
and on that account, my dear child, since your hus

band is uncomfortable about your going to N., do not
press the matter; for as you have no great things to
ask about, all confessors will be equally suitable for

you, even the one of your parish i.e., M. N. or when
you have the opportunity, the confessor of the good
Carmelite mothers. You know how to conduct your
self with all sorts of confessors :wherefore you can.

act with liberty in this matter. My dear child, con
tinue very gentle and humble with your husband.
You are right not to disturb yourself about bad
thoughts, as long as your intentions and will are good ;
for these God

regards. Yes, my daughter, do just as I
have told you for though a thousand little deceits of
;
apparent reasons rise up to the contrary, my conclu

sions are based on fundamental reasons and conform
able to the doctrines of the Church indeed, I
: tell you
that they are so true that the contrary is a great fault.
Therefore, serve God well according to them, he will
bless you ;
and never listen to anything on the con
trary side, and believe that I must be very certain when
I speak so boldly.
thank the good Mother Prioress, and I bear her

I
with all her sisters in my soul, with great honour and

love. But, my daughter, there are very many other
things to ask you about this same devotion to the
reverend Mother (St.) Teresa ; you must get taken for
me a life-like portrait of her, down to the cincture
only, from that which I am told these good sisters
have, and in passing by there, one of our cures, who

is going thither in a week or so, would bring it to me
on his return. I would not act like that with all
sorts of daughters, but with you I act according to my

heart.
I will recommend to the Holy Spirit the dear
widowed sister, that he may inspire her to choose a
husband who will always be a comfort to her : I mean

the sacred husband of the soul. Yet if God so dispose
as to use her again for the burden of a complete esta
blishment, and wishes to exercise her in subjection, she
must praise His Majesty for it, which, without doubt,
does all for the good of his own.
Oh !
my daughter, how agreeable to God are the
virtues of a married woman, for they must be strong
and excellent to last in that vocation ; but also, O my
God ! how sweet a thing it is for a widow to have
only one heart to please After all, this sovereign
!
goodness will be the sun to enlighten the dear good

sister, that she may know what path to choose. She
isa soul I love tenderly Wherever she may
go I hope she will serve God well and I will follow
;
her by the continued prayers which I will make for

her. I commend myself to the prayers of our little
daughter N. and of N. It is true that N. is my
daughter rather more than the others, and I consider

that all is mine, my dearest daughter, in him who, to
make us his, has made himself all ours. I am in hiin,
my dearest daughter, your, &c.

P.S. Take particular pains to do all you can to
acquire sweetness amongst your people, I mean in your
household ; I do not say that you must be soft an4
remiss, but gentle and sweet. You must think of this,
when entering or leaving your house, and when in it,
morning, noon continually. You must make this a
chief thing for a time, and the rest, as it were, forget
for a little.
LETTER IX.
To ONE OF HIS NIECES.
Rules of Life.
$th March, 1616.
THINK not, I beg you,my my daughter,
dearest niece,
that it has been from want of mindfulness or affection,
ifI have so long delayed writing to you for indeed, :
the good desire which I have seen in your soul to wish

to serveGod very faithfully has produced in mine an
extreme desire to help you with all my power, apart
from the duty which I owe to you besides, and the
inclination I have always had for your heart, because
of the good esteem I have of it since your tenderest
youth.
Well then, my dearest niece,you must cultivate very
carefully this well-beloved heart, and spare nothing
which can be useful for its happiness and though this:
can be done in every season, still this in which you are

is the most
proper. Ah what a rare grace it is, my
!
dear child, to begin to serve this great God while youth

renders us susceptible of all sorts of impressions And !
how agreeable the offering when we give the flowers

with the first fruits of the tree.
Keep always firmly in the midst of your heart the

resolutions which God gave you when you were before
him with me ; you keep them through
for if all this
mortal they will keep you in the eternal.

life And in
order not only to preserve them but to make them
74 ^- Francis de Sales.
happily grow, you have need of no other counsels than

those I have given to Philothea, in the book of the
Introduction, which you have :

still, to please you, I
wish to state in a few words what I chiefly want of
you.
i. Confess every fortnight, when about to receive
the divine Sacrament of Communion ; and never go to
either the one or the other of these heavenly mysteries
without a new and very strong resolution to correct
more and more your imperfections, and to live with an
ever greater purity and perfection of heart. And I do
not say that if you find yourself in sufficient devotion
to communicate every week you are not to do it, and

specially if you find that by this sacred mystery your
troublesome inclinations and the imperfections of your
life go on diminishing ; but I said
every fortnight, that
you might not put it off longer.
2. Make your spiritual exercises short and fervent,

that your natural disposition may not make prayer a
difficulty to you on account of the length of it, and

that little by little it may grow tame to these acts of
piety. For instance, you should, with inviolable regu

larity, make every day the morning exercise marked
in the Introduction ; well, to make it short, you may,
while dressing, thank God, by ejaculatory prayer, for
having preserved you that night, and then make the

2nd and 3rd points, not only while dressing, but in
bed or elsewhere, without distinction of place, or actions;
then, as soon as ever you can, you must put yourself
on your knees, and make the 4th point, commencing
by making that movement of heart which is marked :
Lord ! behold this poor and miserable heart. The

same for the examen of conscience, which you can
make in the evening while going to bed, provided that
you make the 3rd and 4th points kneeling, if not pre
vented by any illness.
So in the church hear Mass with the behaviour of a
true daughter of God
and rather than be wanting in
;
this reverence, leave the church and go away.
3. Learn to make often ejaculations and move

ments of your heart towards God.
4. Be careful to be gentle and affable to every one,
but specially at home.

5. The alms given in your house, give yourself
whenever you can for it is a great increase of virtue
:
to give alms with your own hand when it can well be

done.
6. Visit very willingly the sick of your district, for
that is one of the works which our Lord will regard at
the day of judgment.
7. Read every day a page or two of some spiritual
book, to keep yourself in relish and devotion ; and on

feasts a little more, which will take the place of a
sermon.
8. Continue to honour your father-in-law, because
God wishes it, having given him to you as your second
father in this world ; and love cordially your husband,
giving him, with a gentle and simple goodwill, all the
satisfaction you can ; and be good in bearing the im
perfections of all, specially those of your home.

I do not see that for the present I haveany more

to say, except thatwhen we meet you must tell me
how you have behaved in this way of devotion and if ;
there is anything more to say I will add it. Live, then,

all joyous in God and for God,
my dearest child, my
niece, and believe that I cherish you very perfectly,
and am entirely your, &c.
LETTER X.
To ONE OF HIS COUSINS.
On the way roe are to act when living with our parents.
loth November, 1616.
I STILL want leisure to write to you, my dearest child,
although I answer your letter tardily.
Well, now, here you are in your establishment, and

you cannot alter it ; you must be what you are, mother
of a family, since you have a husband and children.
And you must be so with good heart, and with love of
God, yea for the love of God (as I say clearly enough
to Philothea), without troubling or disquieting yourself
any more than you can help.

But I see well, dear daughter, that it is a little un
comfortable to have the charge of the housekeeping in
a house where your father and mother are ; for I have
never seen that fathers, and still less mothers, leave
the entire management to the daughters, although
sometimes they should do. For my part I counsel
you to do as gently and nicely as you can that which

isrecommended, never breaking peace with this father
and this mother. It is better that things should not go
perfectly well in order that those to whom you have
so many duties may be content.
And then, unless I deceive myself, your character is
not made for fighting. Peace is better than a fortune.

What you see can be done with love you must do :
what can only be done with discussion must be left
alone, when there isquestion of persons so greatly to

be respected. I have no doubt there will be aversions
and repugnances in your spirit ; but, my dearest
daughter, these are so many occasions to exercise the

true virtue of sweetness : for we must do well and holily
and lovingly what we owe to every one, though it
may
be against the grain, and without relish.
Here, my dearest daughter, is what I can tell you
for the present, adding that
conjure you to
only I
believe firmly that I cherish you with a perfect and
truly paternal dilection, since it has pleased Grod to

give you so complete and filial a confidence in
me : so then continue, my dearest child, to love me
cordially.
Make well holy prayer ; often throw your heart into
the hands of God, rest your soul in his love, and put
your cares under his protection, whether for the voyage

of your dear husband, or for your other affairs. Do
what you can, and the rest leave to God, who will
do it sooner or later, according to the disposition
of his divine providence. To sum up, be ever all
78 S/. Francis de Sales.
God s, my dearest daughter, and I am in him, all
your, &c.
LETTER XI.
To A LADY.
Distance of place can put, no obstacle to the union of God s

children. How to behave in uncharitable company. Gentle
ness toward all.
NEVER think, my dearest daughter, that distance of
place can ever separate souls which God has united by

the ties of his love. The children of the world are
all separated one from another because their hearts are
in different places but the children of God, having
;
their heart where their treasure is, and all having only
one treasure which is the same God, are,
consequently^
always joined and united together. We must thus
console our spirits in the necessity which keeps us out
of this town, and which will soon force me to set out
to return to my charge. We shall see one another very
often again before our holy crucifix, if we keep the
promises we have made to one another ; and it is there
alone that our interviews are profitable.
Meanwhile, my dearest daughter, I will commence

by telling you that you must
fortify your spirit by all
possiblemeans against these vain apprehensions which

generally agitate and torment it and for purpose ;
regulate, in the first place, your exercises in such a

way, that their length may not weary your soul, nor
trouble the souls of those with whom God makes you
live.
A
half quarter of an hour, and even less, suffices for
the morning preparation ; three-quarters of an hour,
or an hour for Mass ; and during the day there must
be some elevations of the spirit to God, which take no
time, but are made in a single moment. Then the
examination of conscience in the evening before rest,
besides grace at table, which is an ordinary thing, forms
a plan of reunion for your heart with God.
In a word, I wish you to be just Philothea, and no
more than that ; namely, what I describe in the book
of the Introduction, which is made for you and those in
a similar state.
As to conversations, dearest daughter, be at peace
my
regarding what is said or done in them for if good, :
you have something to praise God for, and if bad,

something which to serve God by turning your heart
in
away from it. Do not appear either shocked or dis

pleased since you cannot help it, and have not authority
enough to hinder the bad words of those who will say
them, and who will say worse if you seem to wish to
hinder them ; for acting thus you will remain innocent
amongst the hissings of the serpents, and like a sweet

strawberry you will receive no venom from the contact
of venomous tongues.
cannot understand how you can admit these
I
immoderate sadnesses into your heart ; being a child of
God, long ago placed in the bosom of his mercy, and
So St. Francis de Sales.
consecrated to his love, you should comfort yourself?
despising all these sad and melancholy suggestions ;

the enemy makes them to you, simply with the design
of tiring and troubling you.
Take great pains to practise well the humble meek
ness which you owe to your dear husband, and to
everybody ; for it is that virtue of virtues which our

Lord has so much recommended to us : but if you
happen to fail indo not distress yourself only with
it :
all confidence get up again on your feet to walk hence
forward in peace and sweetness as before.

I send you a little method for uniting yourself to
God, in the morning and all through the day. So

much, my dear daughter, I have thought good to tell
you for your comfort at present. It remains that I

pray you not to make any ceremony with me, who
have neither the leisure nor the will to make any with
you. Write to me when you like, quite freely; for I
shall always gladly receive news of your soul which

mine cherishes entirely, as in truth, my dearest
daughter, I am your, &c.
LETTER XII.
To A LADY, THE WIFE OF A SENATOR.

He exhorts her to give herself entirely to God, assuring her
that it is the only happiness.
ijth August, 1611.

The remembrance of your virtues is so
MADAM,
agreeable to me that it has no need to be nourished
Letters to Married Women. Si
by the favour of your letters ; nevertheless, they give

you a new claim on me, as I receive by them the
honour and satisfaction of seeing not only that you,
in return, remember me, but that you remember me
with pleasure. You could not remember a person

who has a more sincere affection for you.
I wish you, in presence of our Lord, a thousand
blessings; and this blessing above all, and for all, that
you be perfectly his : be so, Madam, with all your

heart, for it isthe great, yea, the only happiness you
can have. Yet, your husband, the senator, will have
no jealousy about it, as you will be none the less his,
and will get the benefit of it, as you cannot give your
heart to God without his being joined to it.
I am, Madam, and I am with all I have,

your, &c.
LETTER XIII.
To A LADY.
On the way to correct human prudence.
I ANSWER the question which the good Mother de

Sainte-Marie (Chantal) has put to me from you, my
dearest daughter. When human prudence mingles
with our plans it is hard to keep it quiet, for it is
wondrously importunate, and pushes itself violently
and boldly into our affairs, in spite of ourselves.
What must we do in this matter in order that our

intention may be purified ? Let us see whether our

design be lawful, just, and pious ;
and if it is, let us
propose and determine to do it, in order not now to
obey human prudence, but to accomplish in it the will

of God.
We have, for instance, a daughterpru whom human
dence recommends to be placed in a convent, on account
of the state of our family affairs, well now, we will
say in ourselves, not before men, but before God, O "
Lord ! I wish to offer you this daughter, because, such

as she is she is yours ;
and though my human pru
dence induces and inclines me to this, yet, Lord, if I
knew that it was not also your good pleasure, in spite

of my inferior prudence, I would not do it at all, but
would reject on this occasion this prudence which my
heart feels, but which it desires not to consent to,
and embrace your will, which my heart perceives not

in feeling, but consents to in resolution."
Oh !
my dearest child, at every turn the human
spirit troubles us with its claims, and thrusts itself
importunately amidst our affairs. We are not greater

saints than the Apostle St. Paul, who felt two wills in
the midst of his soul, the one which willed according

to the old man, and worldly prudence, and this made
itself most felt, and the other, which willed according
to the Spirit of God. This latter was less felt, but

still prevailed, and by it he Whence, on the
lived.
one hand, he cried out, 0, miserable man that I am,

who will deliver me from the body of this death ?* and
* Rom. vii. 24.
\j
on the other he exclaimed, / live no more myself, but

Jesus Christ lives in me* And
almost every step we
at
must make the resignation which our Lord has taught

us : Not my will, but thine, eternal Father, be done,-\
and then let human prudence clamour as much as it
likes ;
for the work will no longer belong to it, and
you may say to it as the Samaritans said to the
Samaritan woman, after they had heard our Lord,
It is now no more on account of thy word that we
believe, but because we ourselves have ssen and know. I

It no longer by human prudence, though
will be
this may have excited the will, that you make this
resolution, but because you know it pleases God.
Thus, by the infusion of the divine will you will correct

the human will.
Remain in peace, my dearest daughter, and serve

God well in the pains and troubles of pregnancy and
bringing forth, which you must also carry out according
to his good pleasure. And I pray his sovereign goodness
to heap blessings upon you, begging you me to love
always in him and for him, who has rendered me in

all truth your, &c.
* GaL ii. 20. t Luke xxii. 42.

J John iv. 42.,
G 2
LETTER XIV.
To TWO SISTERS.
The Saint exhorts them to peace, gentleness, and concord.
CERTAINLY, my dearest daughters, it requires only one

two sisters who have only one heart and one
letter for
aim. How it is for

profitable you, to hold thus one
to another. This union of souls is like the precious
ointment which was poured on the great Aaron* as the
Psalmist King says, which was so mingled of several

odorous perfumes, that all made only one scent and
one sweetness : but I will, not dwell on this subject.
What God has joined in blood and in affection is
indivisible, so long as this God reigns in us, and he

will reign eternally. Well then, my dearest daughters,
live thus, sweet and amiable to all, humble and coura
geous, pure and sincere in everything. What better
wish can I make for you ? Be like spiritual bees
which only keep honey and wax in their hives. Let
your houses be all filled with sweetness, peace, concord,
humility, and piety by your intercourse.
And believe, I beg, that the distance of place or of
time shall never take away this tender and strong
affection which our Lord has given me for your souls,
which mine cherishes most perfectly and unchangeably.

And as the difference of your conditions may require
that sometimes I write to you in different ways, not
withstanding the unity of your design, I will another

* Ps. cxxxii. 2.
time do so ; but for the present I will content myself

with telling and conjuring you to believe without
doubting, my dearest daughters, that I am your, &c.
LETTER XV.
To M. AND MADAME DE FORAX.
The Saint congratulates them on the termination of law-suits,

and exhorts them to a perfect union.
Annecy, nth November, 1621.

THOUSANDS of blessings to God, for that at last, Mon
sieur my dearest brother, and Madame in every way
my dearest sister, my child, you are free from these
troublesome law affairs, in which, as if amongst thorns,
God has willed the beginnings of your happy marriage
to be passed. Monsieur N. and I. have made a little
bonfire for joy, as sharing in all that affects you.
Well, now, although your pregnancy gives you both

a little sensible inconvenience
(my daughter who feels
it and my dearest brother who feels it in her), I seem

always to see you both with two hearts so contented
and so brave in serving God well, that this very evil
which you feel consoles you as a sign that not having
entire exemption from all affliction in this world, your
perfect happiness is reserved for heaven, towards which,

I am sure, you have your chief aims.
O my dearest brother, continue to solace by your
dear presence my dearest daughter. O my dearest
sister, continue to keep my dearest brother in your
heart; for as God gives you one to another, be always

one another s indeed,, and be sure, both of yoii, that I
am, my dearest brother, and my dearest daughter,
your, &c.
LETTER XVI.
V ^ , ..
To A LADY.
Duty of a Christian wife. Counsels during pregnancy.
MADAM, The letter which you wrote me on the i6th
May, received only on 2/th June, gives me great

cause to bless God for the strength in which he keeps
your heart regarding the desire of Christian perfection,

which I find very clearly, in the holy simplicity with
which you represent your temptations and the struggle
you make and I see well that our Lord helps you, as
;
stepby step and day by day you achieve your liberty

and enfranchisement from the imperfections and chief
weaknesses which have hitherto grieved you. I doubt
not that in a very little time you will be entirely
victorious, asyou are so brave in the battle, and so

full ofhope and confidence of victory by the grace of
our good God.
The comfort you have in this enterprise is without
doubt a presage that itwill happily succeed.
Strengthen,
then, yourself, Madam, good design, the end of
in this
which is eternal glory; leave nothing behind home "at

Letters to Married Women. ^ 87
which necessary to gain it; continue your frequent

is
confessions and communions let no day pass without :
reading a little in a spiritual book : and however little
it be if
you do it with devotion and attention the
profit will be great. Make the examination of con
science in the evening : accustom yourself to little
prayers and the prayers called ejaculatory and in ;
the morning, on getting out of bed, always kneel down

to salute and pay reverence to your heavenly Father,
to our Lady and your good angel and if this is only ;
for three minutes you must never fail : have some very
devout picture, and kiss it often.
I am glad that you have a more joyous spirit than
formerly. Without doubt, Madam, your content will
increase every day, for the sweetness of our Lord will
spread itself more and more in your soul. Never has

any one tasted devotion without finding it very sweet.
I am sure that this gaiety and consolation of spirit
extends its precious perfume over all

your occupations,
and specially over domestic affairs ; which, as they are
the most common, and your principal duty, so they
should most smell of this perfume. If you love de
votion, make all honour and love it ; which they will

do if they see good and pleasant effects from it in
you.
My God ! what splendid means of meriting have
you in your house !
Truly you can make it a true
Paradise of piety, having your husband so favourable
to your desires. Ah how happy you will be if you
!
observe well the moderation which I have spoken of

88 ,5V. Francis de Sales.
in your exercises, accommodating them as much as

you can to your household affairs, and to the will of
your husband, since it is not irregular or savage. I
have seen hardly any married women who can at less
cost be devout than you, Madam, and you are there
fore very strictly obliged to make progress.
I should very much like you to make the exercise
of holy meditation, for I think you are very fit for it.
I said something to you about it during this Lent; I
do not know whether you have put your hand to it ; but
I should likeyou only to give half an hour to it each
day, and not more, at least for some years ;

I think that
this will strongly aid towards victory over your enemies.
I am pressed for time, and yet I cannot finish, so
consoled am I in talking to you on this paper. And
believe, Madam, I beg, that the desire which I have
once conceived to serve and honour you in our Lord
grows and increases every day in my soul, sorry though
I am to be able to show from it at any
so little fruits ;
rate I failed not to offer and present to you the mercy

of God in my weak and languishing prayers, and above
all in the holy sacrifice of the Mass. I add also prayers
foryour whole household which I cherish only in you
and you in God.
I have learnt that you are pregnant; I have blessed
God for it, who wants to increase the number of his
by the increase of yours. Trees bear fruits for man;

but women bear children for God, and that is why
one of his blessings.
fertility is Make profit of this
pregnancy in two ways offering your offspring a
:
hundred times a day to God, as St. Augustine says his

mother used to do. Then, in the ennuis and troubles
which will come and which usually accompany
to you,
pregnancy, bless our Lord for what you suffer in
making for him a new servant, who by means of his
grace will praise him eternally with you.

In fine, God be in all and everywhere glorified in
our trials and in our consolations I am, &c. !
LETTER XVII.
To A LADY.
Counsels during pregnancy.
2gth September, 1620.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, I am not at all surprised that

your heart seems a little heavy and torpid, for you
are pregnant, and it is an evident truth that our souls
generally contract in the inferior part the qualities
and conditions of our bodies : and I say in the inferior
part, my daughter, because it is this which

dearest
immediately touches the body, and which is liable to

share in the troubles of it. A delicate body being
weighed down by the burden of pregnancy, weakened
by the labour of carrying a child, troubled with many

pains, cannot allow the heart to be so lively, so active,
so ready in its operations, but all
no way this in
injures the acts of that higher part of the soul,

which
are as agreeable to God as they could be in the midst
QO St. Francis de Sales.
of all the gladnesses in the world ; yea, more agreeable

in good sooth, as done with more labour and struggle ;
but they a re not so agreeable to the person who does

them, because not being in the sensible part, they are
not so much nor so pleasant to us.
felt,
My dearest daughter, we must not be unjust and

require from ourselves what is not in ourselves. When
troubled in body and health, we must not exact from
our souls more than acts of submission and acceptance
of labour, and holy unions of our will to the good
pleasure of God, which are formed in the highest

region of the spirit and as for exterior actions we
:
must manage and do them the best we can, and be

satisfied doing them, though without heart,
with
languidly and heavily. And to raise these languors

and heavinesses and topors of heart, and to make
them serve towards divine love, you must profess,
accept, and love holy abjection thus shall you change

;
the lead of your heaviness into gold, and into gold

finer than would be the gold of your most lively glad
nesses of heart. Have patience then with yourself.
Lei your superior part bear the disorder of the
inferior and often offer to the eternal glory of our
;
Creator the little creature in whose formation he has

willed to make you his fellow-worker.
My dearest daughter, we have at Annecy a Capuchin

painter who, as you may think, only paints for God
and his temple and though while working he has to
:
pay so close an attention that he cannot pray at the

same time, and though this occupies, and even fatigues
he does this work with good heart for

his spirit, still
the glory of our Lord, and the hope that these
pictures will excite many faithful to praise God, and

to bless his goodness.
Well, my dear daughter, your child will be a living
image of the Divine majesty; but whilst your soul,

your strength, your natural vigour is occupied with
this work, it must grow weary and tired, and you
cannot at the same time perform your ordinary exer

cises so actively and so gaily; but suffer lovingly this
and heaviness, in consideration of the honour

lassitude
which God will receive from your work. It is your
image which will be placed in the eternal temple of

the heavenly Jerusalem, and will be eternally regarded
with pleasure by God, by angels and by men ;
and the
saints will praise God
and you also will praise
for it,
him when you see it there; and so meanwhile take

courage, though feeling your heart a little torpid and
sluggish, and with the superior part attach yourself
to the holy will of our Lord, who has so arranged for
it according to his eternal wisdom.
To sum up, I know not what my soul thinks next,
and desires not for the perfection of yours, which, as

God has willed and wills it so, is truly in the midst of
mine. May it please his Divine goodness that both
yours and mine may be according to his most holy

and good pleasure, and that all your dear family may
be filled with his sacred benedictions, and specially
your very dear husband, of whom, as of you, I am

invariably the most humble, &c.
LETTER XVIII.
To A LADY IN PREGNANCY.
We musty each in his own state, make profit of the subjects

of mortification which are therein.
WE must, before my dearest daughter,

all things,
procure this tranquillity, 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 opportunities of practising it are daily ;
for con
tradictions are we are; and
not wanting wherever
when nobody else makes them, we make them for
ourselves. My God how holy, my dear daughter,
!
and how agreeable to God should we be, if we knew

how to use properly the subjects of mortification
which our vocation they are without
affords ; for
doubt greater than among religious the evil is that ;
we do not make them useful as they do.

Be careful to spare yourself in this pregnancy :
make no effort to oblige yourself to any kind of exer

cise, except quite gently : if you get tired kneeling,
sit down ;
if you cannot command attention to pray
half an hour, pray only a quarter or a half quarter.
I beg you to put yourself in the presence of God,
and to your pains before him.

suffer
Do not keep yourself from complaining : but this

should be to him, in a filial spirit, as a little child to
its mother ;
done lovingly, there is no
for, if it is
danger in complaining, nor in begging cure, nor in

changing place, nor in getting ourselves relieved.

Only do this with love and with resignation into the
arms of the good will of God.
Do
not trouble yourself about not making acts of
virtue properly;
for as I have said they do not cease
to be very good, even if made in a languid, heavy,

and as it were forced manner.
You can only give God what you have, and in this
time of affliction you have ho other actions. At pre
sent, my dear daughter, your beloved is to you a
bundle of myrrh :* cease not to press him close to
your breast. My beloved to me, and I to him, ever
shall he be in my heart. Isaias calls him the man

of sorrows. He loves sorrows, and those that have
them.
Do not torment yourself to do much, but suffer
with love what you have to suffer. God will be
gracious to you,Madam, and will give you the grace to
arrange about this more retired life of which you
speak to me. Whether languishing or living or dying
we are the Lord s,^ and nothing, with the help of his
grace, will separate us from this holy love. Never shall
our heart live, save in and for him ;
he shall be for
ever the God of our heart ;
I will never cease to beg
this of him, nor to be entirely your, &c.
* Cant. i. 12. Rom. xiv. 8.
f
94- St. Francis de Sales.
LETTER XIX.
To A LADY.
Counsels during pregnancy,
I AM just starting, my dearest daughter, and hence

pressed for time. You must please consider these four
were many.
lines as if they Be sure, I beg you, that
your very dear soul will never be more loved than it
is by mine.
But what am I told ? They tell me that though
pregnant you fast, and rob your fruit of the nourish

ment which its mother requires in order to supply it.
Do it no more, I beseech you and humbling yourself ;
under the of
your doctors, nourish without
advice
scruple your body, in consideration of that which you

bear you will not lack mortifications for the heart,
:
which is the only holocaust God desires from you.

O my God what grand souls have I found here
!
in the service of God His goodness be blessed for

!
it. And you are united with them, since you have
the same desires. Live entirely in God, my dearest
daughter, and persevere in praying for your, &c.
LETTER XX.
To THE SAME.
Counsels on the same subject.
MY dearest daughter, since your pregnancy troubles

you very much with regard to your long and ordinary
mental prayer, make it short and earnest : make up

the want by frequent liftings of your soul towards
God ; often read, a little at a time, some very spiritual
book ; form good thoughts while you walk pray little ;
and often ;
offer your languors and lassitudes to our
crucified Lord ;
and after your delivery, take up your
course again quietly, and accustom yourself to follow
the order of some suitable book, in order that when
the hour of prayer comes you may not be at a loss
like one who at dinner-time has nothing ready. And
if sometimes you have no book, make your meditation
on some mystery, such as death or the passion

fertile
the first which comes to your mind.
LETTER XXI.
To A LADY.
The Saint consoles her on her childlessness.
BOTH thoughts are good, my dearest daughter since :
you have given all to God, you should seek nothing in

yourself but him, who is without doubt himself the
good exchanged for the poor little all you have
given him. O how this will increase your courage,
and make you walk confidently and simply ! And it
is well for
you to think always that your trouble comes
from your fault, yet without occupying yourself in
thinking what the fault is ; for this will make you
walk in humility, Do you think, my dearest
daughter,
that Sara, Rebecca, Rachel, Anne the mother of
Samuel, St. Anne, mother of our Lady, and St. Elizabeth

were less agreeable to God when they were barren than
when they were fruitful. We must walk faithfully in
the way of our Lord, and remain in peace as much in
the winter of sterility as in the autumn of fruitfulness.
LETTER XXII.
To A LADY.
The Saint gives Tier advice on the marriage of her

daughter,
congratulates her on the virtues of her husband, and speaks
of balls. Distant pilgrimages not suitable for women.
After the 8th April, 1611.
IT has been to me a great satisfaction to learn a little
more fully than usual the news about you, my dearest
sister, my child. Though I have not had enough
leisure to talk with Madame de Chantal, so as to
inquire as particularly as I wished about all

your
affairs
(about which I think you have communicated
with her, as with a most intimate friend), still she told
me that you walk faithfully in the fear of our Lord,
which is the staple of my consolation, since my soul
desires so much good to your dearest soul
Regarding the marriage of that dear daughter whom

I love very much, I cannot well give you advice, not
knowing the kind of gentleman who seeks her hand.

For what your husband says is true, that he might
perchance change all the bad habits which you notice

in him is, supposing him to be of good natural
;
that
disposition, and only spoilt by youth or bad company.

But if he is of an ill-disposed nature, as only too
clearly seems the case, certainly tempting God to it is
risk a daughter in his hands, with the uncertain and
doubtful presumption of his amendment. And this

particularly, if the child is young and herself in need
of guidance ; in which case, unable to contribute any
thing towards the amendment of the young man, yea,

there being fear rather that one will be cause of ruin
to the other, what is there in all this but evident
danger Now, your husband
? is very sensible, and
assures me that he will consider all carefully, in which
you will help him : and as for me, I will pray, accord
ing to your desire, that it may please God to direct
well that dear child, that she may live and grow old
in his fear.
As for taking this young girl to balls often or
seldom, as she will go with you, it is of little con

sequence.* Your prudence must judge of that by
your own eyes, and according to circumstances but ;
as you wish to marry her, and she inclines the same
* It must be noticed here that the Saint is not stating his
general doctrine about balls, but saying that a certain lady, a most
intimate friend of S. Chantal, might lawfully take her daughter to
assemblies of which he knew the exact character. His general
doctrine is
given in the 33rd Chapter of the 3rd Part of the
Introduction, which he thus sums up in the Preface to the Amour:
"In that passage I have declared the extreme peril of dances."
(Translator s
Note.)
H
way, there no harm in taking her just as often as

is
is enough and not too much. If I mistake not, this

child is lively, vigorous, and of a nature somewhat
ardent. Well, now that her mind begins to develop,
you must put quietly and sweetly into it the begin

nings and first seeds of true glory and virtue, not by
reproving her with bitter words, but by continually
admonishing her with sensible and kind words on all
occasions. And
these you must get repeated to her by
forming for her good friendships with well-disposed

and sensible girls.
Madame de N. has told me that as regards your
exterior and the propriety of your house, you get on
very nicely and both she and my brother De Thorens
;
have told me something which fills me with joy :
namely, that your husband gains ever a higher and

nobler reputation for being a good magistrate ; firm,
equitable, laborious in the duty of his office, and in ail

things living and behaving as a very good man and
good Christian. I promise you, my dear child, that I
felt a thrill of joy at this account, for this is a great

and splendid blessing. Amongst other things he told
me that he always begins his day by assisting at Holy
Mass, and that when opportunity offers he shows
worthy and becoming zeal for the holy Catholic
religion. May God be always at his right hand, that

he may never change but from better to better. You
are, then, very happy, my dear child, to have both
temporal and spiritual blessings on your house.

The journey to Loretto is a great journey for
women : I advise you often to make it in spirit,
joining by intention your prayers to that great mul

titude of pious persons who go thither to honour the
mother of God, as to the place where first the incom
parable honour of that maternity came to her. But
as you have no vow which obliges you to go there in
body, I do not advise you to undertake it though :
indeed I advise you to be more and more zealous in

devotion to this Holy Lady, whose intercession is so
powerful and so useful to souls, that for my part I

esteem it the greatest help that we can have for our
progress in true piety towards God ; and I can say this
from knowing several remarkable exemplifications of

it.
May the name of this Holy Virgin be for ever
blessed and praised ! Amen.
As for your alms, my dear daughter, make them
always somewhat liberal and in good measure, yet
with the discretion which formerly I have told you of
or written about : for if what you put into the bosom
of the earth is returned to you with usury by its
fertility, be sure that what you put into the bosom of

God will be infinitely more fruitful, in one way or
another ;
that is to say, that God will reward you in
this world either by giving you more wealth, or more
health, or more contentment. Your, &c.
H 2
ioo 6Y. Francis de Sales.
LETTER XXIII.
To A LADY.
"Whose husband had intended tojight a duel.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, I see by your letter the state
of soul of your dear husband, from the duel which

he had resolved upon, though he did not fight it. I
think there is no excommunication, because it did not
come to that effect required by the canons.
But, my dearest child, I confess that I am scan
dalized to see good Catholic souls, and souls which
otherwise have an affection for God, so little careful
of eternal salvation as to expose themselves to the
danger of never seeing the face of God, and seeing

for ever, and feeling, the horrors of hell. Truly, I
cannot think how any one can have a courage so
misdirected, and for trifles and nothings.
The love which I have for my friends, and specially
your dear husband, makes my hair stand on end when
1 know they are in such peril ; and what torments me
most is the very little appearance they show of the
true sorrow which they ought to have for the offence
against God, since they take no pains to hinder it in

future. What would I not do to have such things
done no more !
But I do not say this to disquiet you. We must

hope that God will amend us, all together, if we beg
him to do so, as we ought. Get your good husband
then to confess ; for though I do not think he is under
excommunication, yet he is in terrible mortal sin from

which he must escape at once for excommunication ;
is
only incurred by acts, but sin by will.
I think I shall soon have the bracelet of the
presence of God,* whom I beg to bless you with all
the desirable blessings which you can long for, my

dearest daughter. Your, &c.
LETTER XXIV.
To A LADY.
On the folly of persons in the world about duels.
Annccy, i$tk May, 1612.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, Your last letter has given me a

thousand consolations, and also to Madame N., to whom
I have communicated it, having seen nothing in it
which could not be shown to a lady of that kind, and
one who cherishes you so holily. But I write to
you in haste, as I must get ready a despatch for
Burgundy.
My God ! dearest daughter, what shall we say of
these men who esteem so much the honour of this
miserable world, and so little the beatitude of the
other ? I assure you that I have had strange troubles
of heart, in thinking how near to eternaldamnation
this dear cousin was placed, and that your dear hus-
* The
allusion is, perhaps, to some reminder of the presence of
God.
io2 St. Francis de Sales.
band would have led him thither. Alas ! what sort
of friendship to help to carry one another towards

hell ! We must pray God to make them see his holy
light, and to have great compassion on them.

I see them truly with a heart full of pity, when I
consider that they know that God merits to be pre
ferred ; and yet have not the courage to prefer him,
when occasion requires, for fear of the words of the
evil-minded.
Still, that your husband may not rot in his sin,

and in the excommunication, I send him this note for
confession and absolution. I pray God to send him
the required contrition. Well, then, rest in peace ;

throw your heart and your wishes into the arms of
the heavenly Providence, and may the Divine blessing-
be always amongst you. Amen.
LETTER XXV.
To A LADY.
The Saint consoles her in the illness of her daughter and blames
the excessive love of mothers for their children.
Annecy, S. Dominic s Day, \th August, 1621.

MADAM, honour you and your daughter extremeJy,
I
and am
very pleased to contribute all that I have for
your mutual content. To her, please God, I will give
my counsel apart but to you I give it now, assuring

;
myself that your good nature will take it in good

part.
Madam, it is any love, except the love

possible for
of God, to be too strong, and when too strong it is
dangerous: it excites the passions of the soul, because
being a passion, and the mistress of the passions, it

agitates and troubles the spirit. For it is a disturb
ing force, and finding order it disorders all the
economy of our affections.
Well, must we not think that the love of mothers

for their children may be the same ? Yea, and the
more readily because it seems lawful, having the pass
port of natural inclination, and the excuse of the
goodness of the fond heart of mothers.
We speak of you pretty often, the good Father N.
and and with respect and lovingness: yet, pardon
I,
me, please, but when he tells me excitements and

anxieties of your heart in regard of the illness of
Madame de N., I cannot help thinking there is some
excess. But now, if you find that I speak my mind
too freely, and that I am wrong, what means of excus
ing myself can I find ? At the same time I wish to
lose nothing your good will ; for I too highly
of
esteem it, and prize infinitely the heart from which
it comes, and the spirit which gives it birth.
And, in general, I wish to say in a word that you

have such power to move hearts, mine having felt the
power of your spirit, and being quite subdued by it,
that you have no need of help to move that of Madame
de N. to whatever you please. I am sure that after
the power of the Spirit of God, to which all must give
way, yours will be in all cases the greatest. Live to

iO4 St. Francis de Sales.
God, Madam, and to the most Holy Trinity; in whom

I am, yours, &c.
LETTER XXVI.
To A RELIGIOUS OF THE VISITATION.
Subject.
i$th December, 1621.

I PITY this good lady extremely. Her nature is
only too good, or rather her natural goodness is not
sufficiently overcome by the supernatural in her.
Alas these poor earthly mothers do not sufficiently

!
regard their children as the work of God, and too

much as the children of their womb
they do not ;
sufficiently regard them as children of eternal Provi
dence, and too much as children of temporal birth,

and as belonging to the service of the temporal order.
But if I can, I will write to her now, if I have the
least leisure.
LETTER XXVII.
To A LADY.
Parents ought to bless God when their children consecrate

themselves to his service.
YOUR letter, which M. Crichant has given me, is a
great comfort to me, my dearest daughter, making it

easy to see that as I do not forget your heart, so yours

does not forget mine.
You have truly cause to bless God for the inspira
tion which he gives to your daughter, choosing her
for the better part in this mortal life. But, my child,
we must do all things in their time. It is
truly not
I that have fixed the age at which women may become
religious, but the Holy Council of Trent.
Believe me, my dearest daughter, if there is nothing
extraordinarily urgent, keep quietly in obedience to the
ordinary laws of the Church. Obedience is better than
sacrifices* It is a sort of obedience very agreeable
to God to want no dispensation without great need.
Our Lady asked no leave to bring forth before the
time, nor to speak with our Lord before the age at
which children are accustomed to speak.
Go on quietly, then, and all will turn to blessing,
even for your own self after the child God will open
:
the door to the mother : and it is not forbidden to

seethe, in the sacrifice, the mother sheep in the milk
of her little one. On every occasion I will serve you
very affectionately. You have no need of my help on
these occasions, because God has left you the reverend
Father Suffren and because these Sisters of the
Visitation are so much obliged to your loving kind
ness. And as you have carpeted their oratory on
the day of their entry into the new house, they should
do much to carpet their monastery with your good
affections, and with those of your dear daughter.
* i
Kings, xv. 22.
io6 ,5V. Francis de Sales.
Recommend me to the mercy of God, and the

goodness of his mother. Your most humble, &c.
LETTER XXVIII.
To A LADY.
The Saint congratulates her on her daughter s entering the
Carmelites.
I HAVE heard from the mouth of dear M. Crichant

the history of the entry and reception of your dear
littledaughter into the holy order of Carmelites, and
how she passed from your maternal bosom, my dearest
daughter, into that of the good Mother Magdalen of

S. Joseph. I trust that this action will be blessed by-
the sweetness of him who loves speed in good designs
and good executions, and who found fault with the
prudence of that youth who wanted to go and bury
his father before coming entirely to follow Jesus.
There is something a little extraordinary in the
case of this child, and perhaps also in her reception,
but it is no wonder that a needle free from grease,
not distant, not rubbed with oil,not hindered by the
diamond, should join itself so quickly and powerfully
to its magnet. So then, blessed be God, my dearest
daughter, behold your holocaust almost consumed

before it is properly placed upon the altar. The
Divine Majesty bless you more and more with his
holy love, and also the heart of your dear husband,
who so sweetly conspires with you in aspiring entirely
after God, and respiring only in him. I am in
variably, your, &c.

that of Made
My entirely dedicated to
heart is
moiselle de Verton, your dear sister, in which I have

seen that God reigns :
may it please his Divine
Majesty, to reign there for ever.
LETTER XXIX.
To A LADY.
Consolations on the illness of her husband.
I jth February, 1620.
WITH my dearest daughter, there is no need of

you,
ceremony : for God having made my heart so strongly
locked to yours, there is nothing between us, I think.

This is to explain why I write to you only these two
words, keeping my leisure to write to others whom I
must answer.
But what are these two words ?
Humility and
Patience. Yes, my very dear child, and ever, indeed,
dearer child, you are surrounded with crosses so long
as your dear husband is
poorly : now sacred love will
tell you that, in imitation of the great lover, you must
be on the cross with humility, as unworthy to suffer
anything for him who has suffered so much for us,
and with patience, not wishing to come down from
the cross till after death, if it so please the Eternal
Father.
io8 St. Francis de Sales.
O, my dearest daughter, commend me to this
Divine lover, crucified and crucifying, that he may

crucify my love and all my passions, in order that I
may no longer love any but him, who for the love
of our love has willed to be painfully but lovefully
crucified.
My brother De Boisy, your host, is going to be

made bishop, to succeed me, Madame and His Most
Serene Highness having so wished it, without my either
directly or indirectly having had anything to do with

it. This makes me hope for a little repose, to write
something or other about the Divine Lover, and his
love, and to prepare myself for eternity.
My dearest daughter, I am beyond

comparison the
very humble servant of yourself, and of your husband,
and of M. C., but above all, of your dear soul, which
may God bless. Amen.
LETTER XXX.
To A LADY.
Same subject as the preceding,
2$rd October, 1620.
TRULY, my dearest daughter, I could willingly love

the maladies of your dear husband, if charity allowed,
because I think them useful to you for the mortifica
tion of your affection and feelings. Well, then, leave
it to be seen by the heavenly and eternal Providence
of our Lord, whether they are for the good of your
soul or of his, both being exercised as they are by

means of holy patience. O, my child, how often the
world calls good what is evil, and still oftener evil what
is good. However, since that sovereign goodness which
wills our troubles wills also that we ask of him deliver
ance from them, I beg it with all my heart to give
back good and lasting health (sante) to this dear hus
band, and a very excellent and very lasting holiness
(saintete) to my dearest daughter, that she may walk
steadily and fervently in the way of true and living

devotion.
"
I am writing to the Visitation Mother (De Chantal).

There seems to be illness everywhere, but illness which
is a great good, as I hope. Let the good pleasure of
the Divine Majesty ever be our pleasure and comfort
in the adversities which come upon us. Amen.
LETTER XXXI.
To A LADY.
Same subject.
So then, my dearest daughter, you are ever at the

foot of the cross amidst tribulations, in the sickness
of your dear husband. O, how precious are these
pains which seem so hard ! All the palaces of the
heavenly Jerusalem, so brilliant, so lovely, so delight

some, are made of these materials, at least in man s
quarter ;
for in that of the angels the buildings are of
no St. Francis de Sales.
another kind. Yet they are not so excellent ; and if

envy could reign in the kingdom of eternal love, the
angels would envy men two excellencies which consist
in two sufferings one is that which our Lord has
:
borne on the cross for us, and not for them, at least
not so entirely, the other is that which men endure
for our Lord ;
the sufferings of God for man, of man
for God.
My dear daughter, if you do not make long prayers
amidst your infirmities and those of your husband,
make your sickness itself a prayer, offering it to him
who has so loved our infirmities that, on the day of
his nuptials and sacred joy, he crowned himself and
glorified himself with them. Do thus.
Do not bind yourself to the same confessor, when
to gain time it
may be required to go to the first
comer.
I am grieved that Madame de N. is so troubled ;
but
as she loves God, work together to her unto
all will
good. We must leave to our sweet Lord the very

loving disposition by which he often does us more
good by troubles and afflictions than by happiness and
consolation.
My dearest daughter, say not so much harm of
your heart, for I love it so much that I do not like it
to be so spoken of; it is not unfaithful, my dearest
child, but it is a little weak sometimes, and a little
drowsy. But, for the rest, it wishes to be all to God,

I know well, and aspires to the perfection of heavenly
love. God bless it then for ever, this heart of my
Letters to Married Women. 1 1 1
dearest daughter, and give it the grace to be more and

more humble. God be blessed !
LETTER XXXII.
To A RELIGIOUS WHO HAD BEEN MARRIED.
The Saint prepares her to accept with submission the death of
her child.
WE must await, very dear mother, the result of

my
this sickness as quietly as we can, with a perfect reso
lution to conform self to the Divine will in this loss,

if absence for a little time should be called loss,
which, God helping, will be made up by an eternal
presence.
Ah how happy is the
! heart which loves and cherishes
the Divine will in all events ! Oh ! if once we have
our hearts closely united to that holy and happy eter
nity ! Go (we shall say to all our friends), go dear

friends, go into that eternal existence, at the time
fixed by the king of eternity; we shall go thither after
you. And as this time is
only given us for that
purpose, and as the world is only peopled to people
heaven, when we go there we do all that we have
to do.
This why, my mother, our old Fathers have so
is
much admired the sacrifice of Abraham. What a

father s heart ! And your holy countrywoman, the
mother of St. Symphorian, with whose holy act I
ii2 6V. Francis de Sales.
finishmy book !* O God, my mother, let us leave

our children to the mercy of God,, who has left his
Son to our mercy. Let us offer to him the life of
ours, as he has given for us the life of his. In general,
we should keep our eyes fixed on the heavenly Provi
dence, in whose dispensations we ought to acquiesce
with allthe humility of our heart.
We must be strong and constant near the cross and
on the cross itself, if it please God to put us there.
Blessed are the crucified, for they shall be glorified.
Yes, my dearest mother, our heritage in this life is in

the cross, and in the next be in glory.
it will
My God ! dearest mother, how I wish you perfec

tion ! And what courage have I, and what hope in
that sovereign goodness, and in his Holy Mother, that
your life will be all hidden with Christ in God-f to
speak with our Lord. God bless you, and mark your
heart with the eternal sign of his pure love We !
must become, very humbly, saints, and spread every

where the good and sweet odour of our charity. May
God make us burn with his holy love, and despise all
for that !
May our Lord be the repose of our heart,
and of our body Every day I learn not to do my
!
own will, and to do what I do not want. Rest in
peace in the two arms of Divine Providence, and in

the bosom of the protection of our Lady.
* The Introduction.
f Col. i
3.
LETTER XXXIII.
To A LADY.
Consolation to a mother on the death of her son in childhood.
$rd January, 1613.
I ASSURE you, dearest daughter, that your affliction

has touched me deeply, being assured that it has
been very severe ; insomuch as your spirit, like that of
the rest of men, not seeing the end and intention for
which things happen, receives them not in the way
they are, but in the way they are felt.
Behold, my dear child, your son is in safety, he
possesses eternal happiness there he is, saved and
!
secured from the risk in which we see so many, of

losing his soul. might he not with
Tell me, I ask,
age have become very wicked, might you not have

suffered much pain from him as so many mothers
suffer from theirs? For, my dear child, we often

sufferpain from those from whom we least expect it ;
and see how God has withdrawn him from all these
perils, and made him enjoy the triumph without the
battle, and reap the fruits of glory without labour.
Do you not think, my dear daughter, that your
vows and devotions are well fulfilled ? You made them
for him, but in order that he might stay with you
in this vale of tears. Our Lord, who understands
better what is good for us than we do, has heard your
prayers in favour of the child for whom you made
i
ii4 St. Francis de Sales.
them, but at the sacrifice of the temporal satisfactions

which you sought.
Truly I quite approve the confession you make,
that it is for your sins that this child has departed,
because it comes from humility but all the same I
:
do not consider that it is founded in truth. No, my

dear child, not to punish you, but to favour this
it is
child, that God has saved him early. You have pain
from this death, but the child has great gain from it,
you have received temporal pain and the child eternal
joy. At the end of our days, when our eyes are
cleared, we shall see that this life is so trifling that
we ought not to have pitied those who lost it soon :
the shortest is the best, if it leads us to the eternal.

So then, behold your little child in heaven with the
Angels and the Holy Innocents. He is grateful to
you for the care you had of him during the little time
he was in your charge, and specially for the devotions
made for him : in exchange he prays God for you and
pours forth a thousand desires over your life, that it
may be more and more according to the will of God,

and that so you may be able to gain the life which he
enjoys. Remain then in peace, my dearest daughter,
and keep your heart ever in heaven, where you have this
fine (brave) little saint. Persevere in always wishing
to love more faithfully the sovereign goodness of our
Saviour ; and I pray that he may be your consolation
for ever. am, without end, your must humble, very
I
affectionate and faithful godfather and servant.

5
LETTER XXXIV.
To A LADY.
On the death of her son.
Annecy, 2nd December, 1619.

THE father confessor of Sainte-Claire de Grenoble has
just told me that you have been extremely ill, my
dear daughter, after having seen the dear N. pass away,

and that you have been healed of a great infirmity.
I see amidst all this your well-beloved heart, which,
with a great submission to the Divine Providence,
says that all is good, since the fatherly hand of this

supreme goodness has given all these blows.
O how happy is this child, to have flown to heaven
like a little angel, after having but just touched the
earth ! What a pledge have you there above, my
dearest daughter !
But, I am sure, you will have
treated heart to heart with our Saviour about this
affair; and he will already have holily soothed the
natural tenderness of your maternity, and you will
already often have said with all your heart the filial
words taught us by our Lord Yes, eternal Father, for
:
thus it has pleased thee to do, and it is good to
be so.*
O my daughter, if you have done like this, you are

happily dead in this Divine Saviour with this child,
and your life is hidden with Christ in God ; and when

the Saviour shall appear who is your life, then shall
* Matt. xi. 26.
I 2
1 1 6 /. Francis de Sales.
you also appear with him in glory* This is the

the Holy Spirit speaks in the Scriptures.
Weshare in the sufferings and death of those we
love by this affection which holds us to them, and
when they suffer and die in our Lord, and we ac
quiesce with patience in their sufferings for the sake of
him who has willed to suffer and die for love of us, we
suffer and die with them ; all this well heaped up, my
dearest child, is spiritual riches incomparable ; and
we shall know it one day, when, for these light
labours, we shall see eternal rewards.
Yet, my dearest daughter, as you have willingly
been ill, so long as God has wished it, be cured now
in good earnest, as he wishes you to be. And I beg
him ever, my dearest daughter, that we may be his,
without reserve or exception, in health and in sickness,
tribulation and prosperity, life and death, time and
eternity. I salute your filial heart, and am your, &c.
LETTER XXXV.
To A LADY.
Consolation on the death of her son. Example of our Lady

at the foot of the Cross.
2$rd August, 1619.

HAVING known your affliction, my dearest daughter, my
soul has been touched by it
according to the measure
of the cordial love which God has given me for you ;
* Col. iii.
3, 4.
7
for I see you, it seems to me, greatly attacked by
sorrow, as a mother separated from her only, and

truly amiable son.
But I am sure you reflect well, and are quite
convinced, that this separation is not of long duration,
since we all are going, with great steps, thither, where
this son finds himself in the arms, as we may hope,
of the mercy of God. On this account you should
assuage and soften, as far as is possible by reason, the

sorrow which nature causes you.
But I speak to you with too much reserve, my
dearest daughter. You have so long desired to serve
God, and have so long been taught at the foot of the

cross, that not only do you accept this cross patiently,
but, I am sure, sweetly and amorously, for the sake

of him who bore his unto death, and of her who
having but an only Son, son of incomparable love,

saw him with her eyes full of tears, and her heart full
of grief (but grief sweet and gentle), for the salvation
of you and of all, die upon the cross.
Finally, my you are deprived and

dearest child,
despoiled of the most precious garment you had.

Bless the name of God who had given it you, and
has taken it back, and his Divine Majesty will take
the place of your child. As for me, I have already
prayed to God for the departed, and will continue,
according to the great desires I have for your soul,
which I pray the eternal goodness of our Lord to make
abound with blessings, and I am without reserve all
yours, my dearest daughter, and your, &c.
1 1 8 St. Francis de Sales.
LETTER XXXVI.
Ta MADAM, WIFE OF PRESIDENT BRULART.
Consolation on the death of a son who died in the Indies, in the
King s service.
2ist May, 1615.
O HOW my soul suffers with your heart, my dearest
mother ! for I seemit, poor mother s heart,
to see this
all clouded with an excessive trouble and at the same ;
time a trouble which we can neither blame nor think

strange, when we consider how amiable was this son,
whose second separation from us is the subject of our

sorrow.
My dearest mother, it is true that this son was one

of the most desirable that ever was : all those who
knew him recognized it, and knew that it was so.
But is not this a great part of the consolation which

we should take now, my dearest mother ? For, truly,
it seems that those whose worthy of memory
life is so
and esteem still live after death, since one has such
pleasure in recalling them, and in representing them
to the minds of those who are living.
This son, my dearest mother, had already made a
great separation from us, having voluntarily deprived

himself of his native clime, to go to serve his God and
his King in another and new world. His generosity
had animated him to this and yours had made you
;
agree to so honourable a resolution, for which you

had renounced the delight of ever seeing him again in
this life, and there remained to you only the hope

of letters from time to time. See then, my dearest
mother, how he has, under the good pleasure of
Divine Providence, departed from this other world to
that which is the oldest and most desirable of all, and
to which we must all and where you
go in our time,
will see him sooner than you would have done had he
stayed in this new world amid the labours of the con

quests which he was intending to make for his King
and the Church.
In a word, he has ended his days in his duty and
in the fulfilment of his oath. This sort of death is
excellent, and you must not doubt that the great God
has made ithappy for him, as, from his cradle, he had
continually favoured him with his grace to make him
live in a most Christian manner. Console yourself
then, my and comfort your mind,
dearest mother,
adoring the Divine Providence which does all very

sweetly and though the motives of his decrees are
:
hidden from us, still the truth of his sweet goodness
(debonnairete) is certain to us, and obliges

us to believe
that he does all things in perfect kindness.
You are, as it were, on the eve of taking sail to go
to where this dear child is. When you are there you
would not wish him to be in the Indies ; for you will
see that he will be much better off with angels and

saints than with tigers and barbarians. But while
waiting the hour to sail, feed your maternal heart by
the consideration of the most holy eternity in which
he is, and which you are quite near. And instead of
writing: to him, sometimes speak to God for him, and

he will quickly know all you want him to know, and
will receive all the assistance that you will give him
by your desires you have made
and prayers, as soon as
them and lodged them in the hands of his Divine

Majesty.
Christians are very wrong to be so little Christian
as they are, and to break so cruelly the laws of charity
to obey those of fear but, my dearest mother, you

:
must pray to God for those who do this great evil,

and apply that prayer to the soul of your departed.
It is the most agreeable prayer we can make to him
who made a like prayer on the cross, to which his
most Holy Mother answered with all her heart, loving
him with a very ardent charity.
You cannot think how this blow has struck my
heart, for, in fine, he was my dear brother, and had
loved me extremely. I have prayed for him, and will
do so always, and for you, my dearest mother, to whom

I wish to render all my life, in a special manner,
honour and love on behalf also of this deceased brother,
whose immortal friendship comes to beg me to be more

and more your, &c.
LETTER XXXVII.
To A LADY.
We must not stretch our curiosity so far as to wish to know what
is, after death, the fate of a person we have much loved.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, Having received your letter
and message, I will tell you that I know distinctly the
qualities of your heart, and above all its ardour and
strength in loving and cherishing what it loves ;

it is
this which makes you speak so much to our Lord of

this dear departed, and which impels you to these
desires ofknowing where he is.
But, my dear mother, we must repress these longings
which proceed from the excess of this amorous passion:
and when you surprise your mind in this occupation,
you must immediately, and even with vocal prayers,
return to our Lord, and say to him this or the like :
O Lord, how sweet is your providence how good is !
your mercy ! Ah ! how happy is this child to have

fallen into your fatherly arms, where he cannot but
have good, wherever he is !
Yes, my dear mother for you must take great care

:
to think of no other place than Paradise or Purgatory;

thank God, there is no cause to think otherwise. Draw
back, then, thus your mind, and afterwards turn it to
actions of love towards our Lord crucified.
When recommend this child to the Divine
you
Majesty, say to him simply Lord, I recommend to:
you the child of my womb but much more the child

:
of your mercy, born of my blood, but born again of

yours. And then pass on; for if you permit your
soul to amuse itself with this object, adapted and
agreeable to its senses and to its inferior and natural

powers, it will never be willing to tear itself away ;
and under pretence of prayers of piety, it will give
itself up to certain natural complacencies and satis
factions, which will deprive you of the time for
employing yourself with the supernatural and sovereign

object of your love. You must certainly moderate
these ardours of natural affection, which only serve to
trouble our mind and distract our heart.
So, then, now, my dearest mother, let us withdraw

our mind into our heart, and bring it to its duty of
loving God most solely : and let us allow it no frivolous
about what passes in this world or

self-busy in g, either
what passes in the other but having served out to
;
creatures what we owe them of love and charity let us

refer all to that primary, mastering love which we owe
to our Creator, and let us conform ourselves to his
Divine will. I am, very affectionately, my dear mother,
your most faithful and affectionate child, &c.
LETTER XXXVIII. %
To A LADY.
On the too great fear of death.
Jill April, 1617.
MADAM, On this first opportunity which I have of
writing to you, I keep my promise, and present you
some means which gives

for softening the fear of death
you such great terrors in your sicknesses and child-

bearings in this there is no sin, but still there is
:
damage your heart, which cannot, troubled by

to
this passion, join itself so well by love with its God, as
it would do if not so much tormented.
I .
Then, I assure you, that if you persevere in the
exercise of devotion, as I see you do, you will find
yourself, by little and little, much relieved of this

torment so that your soul, thus exempt from evil
;
affections, and uniting itself more and more with God,

will find itself less attached to this mortal life, and to
the empty satisfactions which it gives.

Continue, then, the devout life, as you have begun,
and go always from well to better in the road in which
you are and you will see that after some time these
;
errors will grow weak, and will not trouble you so

much.
2. Exercise yourself often thoughts of the in the
great sweetness and mercy with which God our Saviour

receives souls in their death, when they have trusted
themselves to him in their life, and have tried to serve

and love him, each one in his vocation. How good
art thou, Lord, to them that are of a right heart.
3. Often lift up your heart by a holy confidence,

mingled with a profound humility to ward sour Redeemer;
saying : I am miserable, Lord, and you will receive my
misery into the bosom of your mercy, and you will draw
me, with your paternal hand, to the enjoyment of your
inheritance. I am frail, and vile, and abject : but you
will love me in that day, because I have hoped in you,
and have desired to be yours.
4. Excite in yourself as much as possible the love

of Paradise and of the celestial life, and make some
considerations on this subject, which you will find
sufficiently marked in the Introduction to the Devout
Life, in the meditations on the glory of heaven and

the choice of Paradise : for in proportion as you
esteem eternal happiness, will you have less fear for
leaving this mortal and perishable life.

5. Read no books or parts of books in which death,
and judgment, and hell, are spoken of for, thanks to :
God, you have quite resolved to live in a Christian

manner, and have no need to be pushed to it by
motives of terror and fear.
6. Often make acts of love towards our Lady, the
Saints, and the Angels : make yourself familiar with
them, often addressing them words of praise and
love ;
for having much intercourse with the citizens
of the divine, heavenly Jerusalem, it will trouble you
less to quit those of the earthly or lower city of the
world.
7. Often adore, praise and bless the most holy

death of our Lord crucified, and place all your trust
in his merit, by which your death will be made happy,
and often say divine death of my sweet Jesus, thou
:
shalt bless mine and it shall be blessed; I bless thee

and thou shalt bless me. death more dear than life!
Thus St. Charles, in his last illness had placed in his
sight the picture of Christ s Tomb, and of his prayer

in the garden, to console himself in this article of

death by the death and passion of his Redeemer.
8. Reflect sometimes, how that you are daughter
of the Church, and rejoice in this ;
for the children
of this mother who are willing to live according to
her laws always die happily; and as says the blessed

Mother (St.) Teresa, it is a great consolation at death
to have been a child of Holy Church.
9. Finish your prayers in hope, saying Lord,
all :
thou art my hope, my soul trusteth in thee* My God,

who hath hoped in thee and hath been confounded?-^
In thee, Lord, have I hoped, let me never be con
found. J In your ejaculatory prayer during the day,

and in receiving the Blessed Sacrament, use always
words of love and hope towards our Lord, such as :
You are my Father, Lord! God! you are the
Spouse of my soul, the King of my love and the well

beloved of my soul. good Jesus I you are my dear
master, my help, my refuge.
10. Consider often that the persons whom you
love most, and to be separated from whom would
trouble you, are the persons with whom you will be
eternally in heaven : for instance,

your husband, your
littleJohn, your father Oh this little boy, who will
: !
be, God helping, one day happy in that eternal life,

in which he will enjoy my happiness, and rejoice over it;
and I shall enjoy his, and rejoice over it, and we shall
never more be separated So of your husband, your
!
*
PF. Ivi. 2. f Ecclus ii. n.
Ps. xxx. i.
father, and others. You will find it all the more easy
because all your dearest serve God and fear him.
And because you are a little melancholy, see in the
Introduction what I say of sadness and the remedies
it.
against
Here, dear lady, you have what I can say on
my
this subject for the present. I say it to you with a
heart very affectionate towards yours, which I beg to

love me and to recommend me often to the Divine
mercy, as in return I will not cease to pray it to bless

you. Live happy and joyous in heavenly love, and
I am your, &c.
BOOK III.
LETTERS TO WIDOWS.
LETTER L
To A COUSIN.
He tells her of her husband s death, and gives her spiritual
consolations.
28th September, 1613.
MY God how deceitful

! is this life, Madam, my dearest
cousin and how short
! its consolations
They appear !
in a moment, and another moment carries them off:

and but for the holy eternity in which all our days
end, we should have cause to blame our human con
dition.
My dearest cousin, know that I write with a heart

full of pain, on account of the loss which I have had,
but still more on account of the lively sense which I
have of the blow which this will be to your heart,
when it hears the sad news of your widowhood so early,
so unexpected, so lamentable.
If the multitude of those who will share your sorrow
could lessen the bitterness of it, you would soon have
little left : for no one has known this excellent gen

tleman but contributes a special sorrow towards the
ackowledgment of his merits.
But, my dearest cousin, all this cannot console you

till after the strongest feeling has passed away. While
this lasts God must sustain your soul and form its
refuge and support. Well, this sovereign goodness,

without doubt, my dearest cousin, will bow down to
you, and will come into your heart, to aid and succour
it in this tribulation, if you throw yourself into his
arms and resign yourself into his fatherly hands.

It was God, my dearest cousin, who gave you this
husband : it is God who has taken him back. He is
bound to be pitiful towards you in the griefs which

the just affections, given you for your marriage, will
henceforth cause you in this privation.
This is, in a word, all that I can say to you. Our
nature is so made that we die at an unforeseen moment,
and cannot escape this condition wherefore we must :
take patience, and use our reason to soften the evil

which we cannot avoid; then look at God and his
eternity, in which all our losses will be made up, and
our union, interrupted by death, will be restored.
May God and your good angel inspire you with
every holy consolation, my dearest cousin. I will beg
it of his Divine Majesty, and will contribute to the
repose of the soul of the dear departed many holy

sacrifices : and to your service, my dearest cousin, I
sincerely offer you all that is in my power, without
reserve. For I am, and wish even more strongly than
Letters to Widows. 129
ever to profess to be. Madam my dearest cousin, your,

&c.
^
LETTER II.
To AN AUNT.
Consolations on the death of her husband. The perfection of

true friendship is only found in Paradise.
MADAM MY AUNT, Did I not know that your virtue

can give you the consolations and resolutions necessary
to support with Christian courage the loss which you
have had, I should try to give you some reasons for it
in this letter if it were required I would bear them
:
to you myself. But I consider that you have so much

charity and fear of God that, seeing his good pleasure
and holy will, you will conform yourself to it, and will
soften your sorrow by the consideration of the evil
of this world, which is so miserable that but for our
frailty we should rather praise God when he takes

from it our friends than trouble ourselves about it.
It is necessary that all, one after another, should quit

it in the order which is appointed and the first are ;
the best off, when they have live.d with care of their
salvation and soul, like my uncle and elder, whose
actions have been so agreeable and profitable to all his
friends, that we, who have been the most familiar and
intimate, cannot refrain from much regretting the

separation. Such sorrow is not forbidden us provided
that we moderate it
by the hope which we have of not
K
1
30 St* Francis de Sales.
remaining separated, but in a little time of following

him to heaven, the place of our repose, God giving us
this grace. There shall we form and enjoy without
end good and Christian friendships, which in this world
we have only begun. This is the chief thought our
friends departed require from us, in which thought I
beg you to keep yourself, leaving inordinate sorrow for

souls which have not such hopes. Meanwhile, Madam
my aunt, I have such love for the memory of the
departed, and for your service, that you will greatly
increase the obligation I am under if you do me the

honour to command me in all liberty, and to employ
me in all assurance. Do this, I beseech you with all
my and I beg our Lord to increase in you his
heart,
holy consolations, and to fill you with the graces which

are wished you by your, &c.
LETTER III.
To MADAME RIVOLAT, WIDOW.
The Saint consoles her in the death of her husband.
LEARNING that you dear daughter,

are widowed, my
I suffer with the pain you have suffered; but still I
exhort you not to let yourself be carried away with
sorrow, for the grace which God has given you to
wish to serve him obliges you to console yourself in
him ;
and the children of the love of God have so
much trust in his goodness that they never become
desolate, having a refuge in which they find all con-
3 1
tent. He who has learnt how to draw from that

fountain cannot long remain thirsty from the passions
of this miserable life. I know that you are ill, but,
my dear child, as your pains increase you must in

crease your courage, thinking that he who, to show his
love for you, has chosen the death of the cross, will
draw you more and more to his love and his glory by
the cross of tribulation which he sends you. Mean
while I pray our Lord for you and your departed,
and beg you to recommend me to his Divine mercy.
I am in him your humble, affectionate, &c.
LETTER IV.
To A LADY.
Consolation on the death of her husband. He speaks of her

children.
MADAM, You cannot think how sensibly I feel your

affliction. I honoured with a very particular affection
this dear departed gentleman, for many reasons, but
chiefly for his virtue and piety. How grievous that,

at a time when there is so great a dearth of such souls
among men of his rank, we should see and suffer these
losses, so injurious to the commonwealth.

my dear lady, considering all things, we must
Still,
accommodate our hearts to the condition of life in

which we are it is a perishing and mortal life, and
:
death which rules over this life keeps no regular

course it seizes sometimes here, sometimes there,
K 2,
without choice or any method, the good among the
bad, and the young among the old.
O, how happy are they who, being always on their
guard against death, find themselves always ready to
die, so that they may live again eternally in the life

where there is no more death ! Our beloved dead
was of this number, I well know. That alone, Madam,
isenough to console us; for at last, after a few days,
soon or late, in a few years, we shall follow him in
this passage, and the friendships and fellowships begun
in this world will be taken up again never to be broken
off. Meanwhile, let us have patience and wait with
courage till the hour of our departure strikes to go
where these friends already are; and as we have loved

them cordially let us continue to love them, doing for
their love what they used to wish us to do, and what
they now wish for on our behalf.
Doubtless, my dear lady, the greatest desire your

deceased had at his departure was, that you should
not long remain in the grief which his absence would
cause you, but try to moderate, for love of him, the
passion which love of him excited in you. And now,

in the happiness which he enjoys, or certainly expects,
he wishes you a holy consolation, and wishes you to

save your eyes for a better purpose than tears, and
your mind for a more desirable occupation than

sorrow.
He has left you precious pledges of your marriage ;
keep your eyes to look after their bringing up, keep

your mind to raise up theirs. Do this, Madam, for
the love of this dear husband, and imagine that he

asked you for this at his departure, and still requires
this service from you for truly he would have done
;
it if he could, and he now desires it. The rest of

your griefs may be according to your heart which is
in this world, but not according to his, which is in the

other.
And since true friendship delights to satisfy the just
desires of the friend, so now in order to please your

husband be consoled ;
calm your mind, and raise your
heart. And if this counsel which I give you with
entire sincerity agreeable to you, put it in practice.
is
Prostrate yourself before your Saviour, acquiesce in his
ordinance; consider the soul of this dear departed,

which wishes from yours a true and Christian reso
lution, and abandon yourself altogether to the heavenly
providence of the Saviour of your soul, your protector,

who will help and succour you, and will, in the end,
unite you with your dead, not as wife with husband,
but as heiress of heaven with co-heir, and as faithful
lover with her beloved.
I write this, Madam, without leisure, and almost
without breath, offering you that very loving service
of mine which has long been yours, and also that
which the merits and the goodness of your husband
towards me require from my soul.
God be in the midst of your heart. Amen.
134 -SV- Francis de Sales.
LETTER V.
To MADAME DE CHANTAL.
Duties of Widows relatively to their salvation; means of gaining

that end.
Annecy, Feast of the Holy Cross, $rd May, 1604.
MADAME, I write to assure you more and more that I

will carefully keep the promise which I made you to
write as often as possible. The more I am separated
from you exteriorly the more I feel myself united with
you interiorly, and I will never cease to pray our good
God to please to perfectyou in his holy work, that is,
the good and design of reaching the perfection
desire
of Christian life. This desire you must cherish and
tenderly nourish in your heart, as a blessing of the

Holy Spirit and a spark of his Divine fire. I have seen
a tree which was planted by the blessed St. Dominic at
Rome every one goes to see it, and is fond of it for

:
the sake of the planter. In the same way having seen

inyou the tree of the desire of sanctity, which our
Lord has planted in your soul, I cherish it tenderly,
and take more pleasure in regarding it now than when
present and I exhort you to do the same and to say
;
with me :
may God give you increase, O lovely tree !
Divine heavenly seed, may God grant you to produce
your fruit unto maturity and when you shall have

:
produced it, may God guard you from the wind which
makes the fruits fall to earth for vile beasts to eat.
Madame ;
this desire should be in you like the orange
trees of the coast ofGenoa, which almost all the year

are covered with fruit and flowers and leaves together,
for your desire should always fructify by the occasions
which offer of fulfilling it every day, and yet your
desire for objects and means to advance further should
never cease. These wishes are flowers of the tree of
your design; the leaves are the frequent acknow
ledgments of your weakness, which preserve both the

good works and the good desire. This desire is one of
the pillars of your tabernacle; the other is love of
your widowhood, a holy love, desirable for as many

reasons as there are stars in heaven, and without which
widowhood is contemptible and false. St. Paul com
mands us widows who are widows indeed;*
to honour the
but those who love not their widowhood are not widows,
save in appearance, their heart is married. These are
not they of whom it is said Blessing, will I bless the
:
widow ;f and elsewhere God is the judge, protector

:
and defender of widows. % Blessed be God who has

given you this dear holy love. Increase it every day
more and more, and the consolation of it will increase
for you at the same time, since all the building of your
happinessis
supported on these two pillars. Look, at
leastonce a month, to see whether one or the -other
be not weakened use for this some meditation or
;
consideration similar to that of which I send you a
copy, and which I have communicated with some fruit

to other souls which I have in charge. Do not, how-
* Tim.
i v. 3. t Ps. cxxxi. 15.
{ Ps. Ixvii. 6.
ever, tie yourself to this same meditation ; for I do not
send it
you for that purpose, but only to show you the
direction of thismonthly examen and trial of yourself,
so that you may learn more easily to get advantage
from it. If you like better to repeat this same medi
be useless to you but I say,

"
tation it will not ;

if
you like better/ for in all and everywhere I wish you

to have a holy liberty of spirit about the means of
perfection. If the two columns are preserved and

strengthened, it matters not much how this is done.
Keep yourself from scruples, and rest entirely on what

I have said to you by word of mouth ; for I have said
it in our Lord.
Keep yourself constantly in the
presence of God by the means which you have. Keep

yourself from eager solicitudes and disquietudes, for
there is nothing which more hinders us from journey
ing to perfection. Throw your heart gently into the

wounds of our Lord, and not violently. Have an
extreme confidence in his mercy and goodness, and
assurance that he will not abandon you and for this ;
cease not to keep yourself to his holy cross. After

the love of our Lord I recommend to you that of his
spouse, the Church, this dear and sweet dove, which

can alone produce and bring forth little doves for the
Spouse. Praise God a hundred times a day for being
a daughter of the Church, like Mother (St.) Teresa,
who often repeated this sentiment at the hour of her
death with extreme consolation. Cast your eyes on
the bridegroom and the bride, and say to the beloved :
O, to how lovely a bride art thou espoused And to !

the Spouse :
O, to how divine a lover art thou wedded !
Have great feeling for all the pastors and preachers of

the Church, and behold them spread over all the face
of the earth ;
for there is no province in the world
without them. Pray God for them, that while saving
themselves they may procure the salvation of many
souls ;
and here I beg you never to forget me, since
God has given me
such strong will never to forget you.
I send you a little manuscript on the perfection of a
Christian life. I have made it, not directly for you,
but for several others ;

still you will see in what you
can make it useful for yourself. Write to me, I pray
you, as often as ever you can, and with all the con
fidence possible : for the extreme desire which I have
of your good and advancement, make me pleased to
learn often what you are doing. Recommend me to
our Lord, for I have more need of it than any one in

the world. I beseech him to give abundantly of his
holy love to you and to all belonging to you. I am
for ever, and beseech you to consider me, your very
assured and devoted servant in Jesus Christ.
LETTER VI.
To THE SAME.
He sends a picture representing the little Jesus with our Lady
and St. Anne.
2gth May, 1605.
BEHOLD, my child, this little picture which I send
you : it
represents your holy abbess while still in the
monastery of married persons, and her good mother

who is come from the convent of widows to visit her.
Look at the daughter how she keeps her eyes cast
down : it is because she cannot see those of the child ;
the mother on the contrary lifts them up, because they
rest on those of the little darling. Virgins only lift
their eyes, to see those of the spouse, and widows lower
them when they cannot have this honour. Your
abbess is
gloriously adorned with a crown on her head,
but looks down on some little flowers scattered on the
step of her seat.
The good grandmother has near her on the earth
a basket filled with fruits. I think that they are the
actions of holiness, the little and humble virtues
which she wishes to give to her pet as soon as she
has him in her arms. Meanwhile, you see that the
little Jesus bends and inclines himself towards his
aged grandmother, widow as she is, and with poor

head-dress and simply clad. He holds a world, which
he turns gently away with one hand, because he knows
well that it is not suitable for widows ; but with the
other he gives her his holy benediction.
Keep yourself near this widow, and like her have

your little basket. Keep your arms and your eyes
towards the child his mother your abbess will give
;
him to you in your turn : He will very willingly in

cline himself towards you, and will bless you muni
ficently. Ah ! how I desire him, my daughter ! This
wish is spread abroad in my soul, where it will remain
eternally. Live joyfully in God, and salute very
humbly in my name, Madame your abbess, and dear

mistress. May sweet Jesus be enthroned in your
heart and on mine together !
May he reign and live
there for ever ! Amen.
LETTER VII.
To THE SAME.
Humility is the virtue proper for widows ; in what it consists.
The great utility of meditating on the life and death of our

Lord. Remedies for temptations against faith. Advice
on the exercise of virtues.
ist November, 1605.

MY GOD ! what heartiness and passion I have in the
service of your soul ! You could not sufficiently be

lieve it, my dear sister. I have so much that this
alone suffices to convince me that from our Lord,
it is
for not possible,

it is I think, that all the world to
gether could give me so much at least, I have never

;
seen so much in the world.
To-day is the Feast of All Saints, and at our solemn

matins, seeing our Lord begin the beatitudes with
poverty of spirit, which
St. Augustine interprets of
the holy and most desirable virtue cf humility, I re

member that you had asked me to send you something
about humility. I think I said nothing in my last
letter, though it was very ample and perhaps too

long. Now, God has given me so many things to
write to you, that if I had time I think I should say

wonders.
In the first place, my dear sister, it comes to my
mind that doctors give widows, as their proper virtue,
holy humility. Virgins have theirs, so have martyrs,
doctors, pastors each his or her own, like the order
of their knighthood and all must have had humility,
:
for theywould not have been exalted had they not

been humbled. But to widows belongs, before all,
humility ; for what can puff up the widow with pride ?
She has no longer her virginity. (This can, however,
be amply supplied for by a great widowly humility.
It is much better to be a widow with plenty of oil
in our lamp, by desiring nothing but humility and
charity, than a virgin without oil, or with little oil.)
She has no longer that which gives the highest value

to your sex in the estimation of the world ;
she has
no longer her husband, who was her honour, and
whose name she has taken. What more remains to
glorify herself in, except Godhappy glory O
! O !
precious crown ! In the garden of the church widows

are compared to violets, little and low flowers, of no
striking colour, nor of very intense perfume, but mar

vellously sweet. O how lovely a flower is the Chris
tian widow, little and low by humility ! She is not
brilliant in the eyes of the world ;
for she avoids them,
and no longer adorns herself to draw them on her ;
and why should she desire the eyes when she no
longer desires the hearts.
The Apostle orders his dear disciple to honour the
widows who are widows indeed* And who are widows

indeed save those who are such in heart and mind
that is, who have their heart married to no creature ?
Our Lord says not to-day Blessed are the clean of:
body, but of heart and praises not the poor but the
; ;
poor in spirit. Widows are to be honoured when they

are such in heart and mind ;
what does widow mean
except deserted and forlorn that is, miserable, poor
and little ? Those, then, who are poor, miserable and
little in mind and heart, are to be praised. All this
means those who are humble, of whom our Lord is
the protector.
But what
is humility ? Is it the knowledge of this
misery and poverty ? Yes, says our St. Bernard ; but

this is moral and human humility. What then is
Christian humility. It is the love of this poverty
and abjection, contemplating these in our Lord. You
know that you are a very wretched (pauvrette] and
weak widow? Love this miserable state; make it
your glory to be nothing; be glad of it, since your

misery becomes an object for the goodness of God to
show his mercy in.
Amongst beggars those who are the most miserable
and whose sores are the largest and most loathsome,

think themselves the best beggars, and the most likely
to draw alms. We are but beggars; the most miserable
are the best off; the mercy of God willingly looks on
them.
Let us humble ourselves, I beseech you, and plead
* i Tim. v. 3.
142 ,SY. Francis de Sales.
only our sores and miseries at the gate of the Divine

mercy ; but remember to plead them with joy, com
forting yourself in being quite empty, and quite a
widow, that our Lord may fill you with his kingdom.
Be mild and affable with every one, except with those
who would take away your glory, which is your

wretchedness and your perfect widowhood. / glory
in my infirmities* says the Apostle ; and it is better
for me to die than lose my glory. Do you see, he

would rather die than lose his infirmities, which are
his glory.
You must carefully guard your misery and your

littleness ; for God regards it, as he did that of the
Blessed Virgin. Man seeth those things that appear,
but the Lord beholdeth the heart.-\ If he sees our.
littleness in our hearts, he will give us great graces.
This humility preserves chastity, whence, in the
Canticles, that lovely soul is called the lily of the
valleys. Be then joyously humble before God, but

be joyously humble also before the world. Be very
glad that the world makes no account of you if it ;
esteems you, mock at it gaily, and laugh at its judg

ment, and at your misery which is judged ;
if it esteems
you not, console yourself joyously, because in this, at

least, the world follows truth.
As for the exterior, do not affect visible humility,
but also do not run away from it embrace it, and :
ever joyously. I approve the lowering of ourselves

sometimes to mean offices, even towards inferiors and
* 2 Cor. xii. 9. i xvi. 7.
f Kings,
proud persons, towards the sick and poor, towards our

own people at home and abroad ; but it must ever be
ingenuously and joyously. I repeat it often, because
it isthe key of this mystery for you and for me. I
might rather have said charitably, for charity, says

St. Bernard, is joyous and this he says after St. Paul.
;
Humble services, and matters of exterior humility are

only the bark, but this preserves the fruit.
Continue your communions and exercises, as I have

written to you. Keep your soul very closely this year
to the meditatiom of the life and death of our Lord :
it is the gate of heaven ;

if you keep his company
you will learn his disposition. Have a great and
long-suffering courage ; do not lose it for mere noise,
and specially not in temptations against faith. Our
enemy is a great clatterer, do not trouble yourself at
allabout him; he cannot hurt you, I well know.
Mock at him and let him go on. Do not strive with
him, ridiculehim, for it is all nothing. He has
howled round about the Saints, and made plenty of
hubbub; but to what purpose? In spite of it all,
there they are, seated in the place which he has lost,
the wretch !
I want you to look at the 4ist chapter of the
Way of Perfection by the blessed Mother St. Teresa,

for it will help you to understand well the doctrine
which I have told you so often, that we must not be
too minute in the exercises of virtues ; that we must
walk open-heartedly, frankly, naively, after the old
fashion (a la vieille Franqoise), with liberty, in good
144 St- Francis de Sales.
faith, in a broad way (grosso modo). I fear the spirit

of constraint and melancholy. No, my dear child,
I desire that you should have a heart large and noble,
in the way of our Lord, but humble, gentle, and

without laxness.
I commend myself to the little but penetrating
prayers of our Celse-Benigne ;
and
Airnee begins
if
to give me some little wishes, I shall hold them very

dear.
*
I give you, and your widow s heart, and your
children, every day to our Lord, when offering his
Son. Pray for me, my dear child, that one day we may
see one another with all the saints in Paradise :
my
desire to love you and to be loved by you has no less
measure than eternity. May the sweet Jesus will to
give us this in his love and dilection ! Amen. I am

then, and wish to be eternally, entirely yours in Jesus
Christ.
LETTER VIII.
To MADAME THE COUNTESS DE DALET.
Duties of a widow towards her parents and children. The love
of parents has great claims.
2$th April, 1621.
MADAME, I should be much troubled in writing to you

on this present subject, if I were not authorized by
Madame, your mother for on what ground could I put

;
my hand to what passes between you two, and how

appeal to your conscience, knowing that you are the
only and worthy daughter of a worthy mother, who is
full of sense, prudence, and piety ? But since I must,
then, under this authorization, I will say, Madame, that
your mother tells me all that she has told you herself
and got told you by many excellent persons (in compari
son with whom am
nothing) to bring you round to
I
the desire she has that you deprive her not of your filial
help, in these great straits, to which the occurrences
you know of have reduced her. She cannot bear to

see her estate fall under the burden, and above all, for
the want of your help, which she considers to be all
that is necessary.
She proposes three plans for this : either that you
retire altogether into religion, in order that the
creditors may no longer want you as security, and
that she may have the free disposal of your children s
property ;
or that you marry again with the advantages
which are offered you or that you remain with her
;
and keep a common purse. She gives in her letter
the exceptions you take to the first two plans. She

says you have vowed your chastity to God, and that
you have four very little children, of whom two are
girls, but about the third plan I see nothing in her
letter.
Asto the first I do not want to interpose my judg
ment on the question whether your vow obliges you

not to ask a dispensation (although she alleges a great
precipitation which may have prevented due con

sideration), for indeed the purity of chastity is of such
high price that whoever has vowed it is

very happy to
L
keep it, and there is nothing to prefer to it

except the
necessity of the public good.
As to the second, I do not know whether you can
lawfully give up that care of your children which God
has required from you in making you their mother,
and they being so little.
But, as to the third, Madame, I say that your purse

ought to be common with your mother, in a case of
such great necessity. O God! it is the least we owe
to father and mother. I fancy I can indeed discern
some reason why. I think a daughter, so placed with
children, may keep her purse to herself; but I do

not know whether this reason exists in your case :
and if it does, it must be very clear and strong, and

bear to be seen and examined thoroughly. Amongst
enemies, extreme necessity makes all things common;
but amongst friends, and such friends as daughters
and mothers, we must not wait for extreme necessity,
for thecommand of God urges us too much. In such
cases we must lift up eyes and heart to the providence
of God, who returns abundantly all that we give
according to his holy commandment.

I say too much, Madame ; for I had no right to speak
on this, except to refer your dear conscience, in this
regard, to those to whom you confide it.
For the rest, as to your spiritual exercises, your
mother is content that you perform them after your
customary manner, except your retreats at Sainte-
Marie, which she wishes limited to the great feasts of
the year, to three days in each forty. You may also
be content with this, and supply by spiritual retreats

at home, the length of those you could make at Sainte-
Marie.
O my God ! dear lady, what we should do for
fathers and mothers and how lovingly must we sup
!
port the excess, the zeal and the ardour, I had almost
said the importunity of their love These mothers, !
they are altogether wonderful (admirables) they would :
like, I think, always to carry their children, particularly

the only child, at their breasts. They often feel jealous
if one takes a little amusement out of their presence ;
they consider that they are never enough loved, and

that the love which is due to them can never be full-
measured except when beyond proper measure. How
can we mend this ? We must have patience, and do,
as nearly as we can, all that is required to correspond
with it. God requires only certain days, certain hours,

and his presence is quite content that we also be
present with fathers and mothers : but these are more
exacting. They require many more days and hours,

and an undivided presence. Ah God is so good that, !
condescending to this, he reckons the accommodation

of our will to our mother s as accommodation to his,
provided his good pleasure is the principal end of our

actions.
Well, then, you have Moses and the prophets ; that

is, so many excellent servants of God hear them. :
And as for me, I do wrong to occupy you so long, bat

I have a little pleasure in speaking with a pure and
chaste soul, and one against which there is no com-
L 2,
plaint, except for the excess of devotion ;

a rare com
plaint, so rare and admirable that I cannot help loving
and honouring her who is accused of it, or being for
ever, Madame, yours, &c.
LETTER IX.
To THE SAME.
What who are masters of their fortune and

assistance children
who have a family owe to their parents.
nth May, 1621.
MADAME, It is in the presence of God that I write

you
this letter, since it is to tell you what you ought to
do for his greater glory in the matters you have written
about. After invoking, then, his Holy Spirit, I say
all you have told me, or
that I see no just occasion in
your mother has told me, for breaking through the

vow of chastity which you have made to God.
I. The keeping up of families is not a considerable
cause, except for

princes, when
their posterity is
required for the public weal ; and even if you were a

princess, or he that wants you a prince, it could be
said to you : be with the posterity you have ;
satisfied
and to himget posterity by another princess.

: In a
word, the Holy Spirit has caused it to be distinctly
declared that no price is worthy of a continent soul*
Remain then so, since God has inspired you the will
and graciously gives the power. This great God will
* Ecclus. xxvi. 20.
bless your vow, your soul, and your body, consecrated

to his name.
2. It is quite true that you are not at all obligecj

in justice to assist with your means the estate of your
father, since by the law of the State your and your
children s
property is
quite separate from that of your
father, and he is in no actual necessity ;
and parti
cularly sinceyou have not really received any part of
your dowry, which was promised only and not paid.
3. On the contrary, if it is true that without pre
venting your father s ruin you would ruin your chil

dren and their property, and yourself, if you took up
the charges on his estate, you are obliged, at least by
charity, not to do it ; for what is the use of ruining one
family without saving another, and applying a remedy

to an irremediable evil, at your children s expense?
If, then, you know that your help will be useless to the
relief of your father, you are obliged not to give it, to
the prejudice of your children.
4. But, Madame, if you can help him without injur

ing your children, as it seems, apparently, you can,
sinceyou are an only child ;
and as all you can save
from being sold will come at last to your children,
your father and mother being unable to have other
heirs,then I think you ought to do it, for it would
be only letting go your property with one hand, and
taking it back with the other.

5. And even if you should straiten your circum
stances in order to content Madame your mother,
provided that it is not with too much loss to your
children, it would seem to me you ought even to do it
for the respect and love you are obliged to bear her.
6. As for the rest, I think it would be more for
your peace, and in accordance with the vow you have

made of perpetual purity, to live apart, in your little
way, on the condition that you often see your mother.
Indeed, if I understand her letter right, she would not

be grieved if you even became a religious, so long as
you enabled her by your means to keep possession of

the family property.
And in truth, as I am unwilling to counsel a second
marriage, and unable to encourage the disposition
which I see in this lady to live in grand style, and
keep the house open for every kind of proper social
amusement, I think it will be better for you to live
apart ; for there is nothing like separation of dwellings
to preserveunion of hearts between those of opposite

(although good) characters and aims. This is my
opinion, Madame, on the knowledge I have of the state

of your affairs. Oh if it had pleased God that I
!
should have seen you at Lyons, what a consolation for

me, and how much more certainly and clearly I should
have been able to explain to you my ideas But !
since it has not been so, I will wait to receive your
reply, in case you may think I have failed to under-

stand the matter you have proposed to me, and I will
try to repair my defects. And

I beg you, Madame,
not to form any idea which may take away the liberty
of writing to me, since I am and shall be entirely and
without reserve your very humble and very affectionate
servant, who wishes you the highest of the graces of

our Lord, and above all a continual progress in the
most holy sweetness of charity, and the sacred humility
of the most amiable Christian simplicity. I cannot
prevent myself saying that I found what you said in

your letter very sweet namely, that your house is a
common one and no better; for this is delightful in
an age when the children of the world make such a
great noise about their houses, their names, and their
descent. Live always so, my dearest child, and glory
only in the cross of our Lord, by which the world is
crucified to you and you to the world. Amen. I
call myself henceforth with all my heart, Madame,

your, &c.
LETTER X.
To A LADY.
The virtues which spring in the midst of afflictions are

the most solid.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, I share by compassion in the

bitter griefs you suffer, and yet I fail not to find much
consolation in that you suffer them with a spirit of
resignation. My dear mother, the virtues which grow

in prosperity are generally delicate and weakly : and
those in afflictions are strong and stable, just as the
best vines are said to grow among stones.
I pray God ever to be in the midst of your heart,

that it may not be overturned by such shocks, and
that sharing with you his cross, he may communicate

his holy patience, and that Divine love which makes
tribulations so precious.
I will never cease to invoke the help of this eternal
Father for a daughter whom I honour and cherish as
my mother.
I am, my dear mother, yours in our Lord, &c.
LETTER XI.
On the choice of a director. .Remedies for temptations against
faith. Rules of conduct for the use of a Christian widow.
Liberty of spirit.
i ^th October, 1604.
MADAME, May God give me as much power as I have
will to make myself clearly understood in this letter !
I am sure that I should give you consolation about

part of what you want to know from me, and particu
larly in the two doubts which the enemy suggests to
you on the choice you have made of me as you spiri

tual father. I will do what I can to express in a few
words what I think necessary for you on this subject.
As to the first doubt, the choice you have made

has all the marks of a good and legitimate election.
The great movement of soul, which brought you to
italmost by force, and with consolation ; the considera
tion which I have given to it before consenting ; the fact
that neither of us trusted self, but used the judgment of
your confessor, a good, wise and prudent man; that

we gave time for the first agitations of your conscience

to grow quiet, supposing
they were ill-founded ;
that
the prayers, not of one or two days, but of many
months, went before ;
these are, undoubtedly, infal
lible signs that it was the will of God.
The movements of the bad spirit or the human
spirit are of a very different kind. They are terrible
and vehement, but without constancy. The first word
they say in the ear of the soul is to avoid counsel ;
or ifit takes counsel it must be that of

people of no
weight, and without experience. They hurry, they
want to make a bargain without stating terms, and
content themselves with a short prayer, which only
serves as a pretext to decide the most important
questions.
There nothing like this in our action.
is It is
neither you nor I that formed the contract but a :
third person, who in this can have regarded only God.

The difficulty I made in the beginning, which pro
ceeded only from the deliberation which I was bound
to give to it, ought completely to reassure you. For
be certain it was from no want of a very great incli
nation to your spiritual service ;

this I had beyond
words but because in a thing of such consequence I
;
wanted to follow neither your desire nor my inclina

tion but God and Providence. Stop there, I beseech,
and dispute no more with the enemy on this subject ;
tellhim boldly that it is God who wanted it and did

it. It was God who placed you under that first direc
tion, profitable to you at that time ;

it is God who
has brought you to this, which, though the instrument

of it is unworthy, he will make fruitful and useful to
you.
As to the second doubt, my dearest sister,, know
that as I have just said, from the beginning of your
conferring with me about your interior, God gave me

a great love of your soul. When you opened your
self to me more was an obligation on
particularly, it
my soul to cherish yours more and more, which made

me write to you that God had given me to you. I
do not believe that anything could be added to the
affection I felt in my soul, and above all when pray
ing to God for you.
But now, my dear child, a certain new quality has

developed which I seem unable to name. I can only,
say its effect is a great interior sweetness which I feel
in wishing you the perfection of the love of God, and

other spiritual benedictions. No, I do not add a
single line to the truth ;
I speak before the God of
my heart and yours every affection has its particu
:
lar difference from others that which I have for you

:
has a certain specialty which immensely consoles me,

and which, to say all, is extremely profitable to me.
Hold that for the truest truth, and doubt it no more.
I did not mean to say so much, but one word brings
on another, and besides I think you will apply it pro
perly.
It is remarkable, I think, my child, that the holy
church of God, in imitation of her Spouse, does not

teach us to pray for ourselves in particular, but always
5 5
for ourselves and for our Christian brethren : Give us,

she says grant us,
: and such like terms, which include
many. had never happened to think, under this
I
general form of speech, of any particular person but :
since I left Dijon, under this form, us, several persons
who have recommended themselves to me have come

intomy mind, yourself almost always the first ; and
when not the first, which is rarely, then the last, to
dwell more on it. Can I say more than that ? But,
do not communicate any one ; for I say a little
this to
too much about it, though with all truth and purity.
This is quite enough now to answer henceforth all
those suggestions, or at least to give you courage to
laugh at their author, and to spit in his face. I will
tell you the rest one day, either in this world or in
the other.
In the third place you ask me for remedies in the
trouble caused you by the wicked one s temptations
against faith and the Church ; for so I understand you.

I will say what God gives me to say.
In this temptation you must behave as in tempta

tions of the flesh, disputing neither little nor much.
Do as did the Children of Israel with the bones of the
Paschal Lamb, which they did not even try to break,

but simply threw into the fire. You must not reply
at all, nor appear to hear what the enemy says. Let
him clamour as he likes at the door ; you must not
say as much as, Who goes there ?
True, you will tell me, but he worries me, and his
noise makes those within unable to hear one another
1
speak. It is all the same ; patience, we must pro

strate ourselves before God, and remain there at his
feet : he will understand, by this humble behaviour,
that you are his, and that you want his help, though
you cannot even speak. But above all keep yourself

well shut and open not the door at all, either to
in,
see who it is or to drive the nuisance away ; at last
he will get tired of crying out, and will leave you in
peace.
And never too soon, you will say. I pray
you get
a book called On Tribulation, composed by Father
Ribadaneira, in Spanish, and translated into French.
The Father Rector will tell you where it is printed ;
read it
carefully. Courage, then, it will come to an
end at provided he enter not, it matters not.
last;
And meanwhile it is an excellent sign when the enemy
beats and blusters at the door; for it is a sign that
he has not got what he wants. If he had it, he would
not cry out any more, he would enter and stay. Take
note of this, so as not to fall into scruple.
After this remedy, I give you another. Tempta
tions against faith go straight to the understanding,
to make and think, and dream about them.
it
parley,
Do you know what you must do while the enemy is
occupied trying to escalade the intelligence? Sally
out by the gate of the will, and make a good attack
on him. That is, when a temptation against faith
comes to engage you how can
be? but if this,
: this
but ^y that? instead of disputing with the enemy by
argument, let your affective part rush forth vehe-

mently upon him, and even joining the exterior voice

to the interior, cry Ah traitor, ah wretch, thou
: ! !
hast left the church of the angels, and wishest me to
leave the church of the saints !

Disloyal, faithless,
perfidious one, thou didst present to the first woman

the apple of perdition, and thou wantest me to eat of
it !Get thee behind me, Satan ! It is written : thou
shall not tempt the Lord thy God.* No, I will not
reason or dispute. Eve wishing to dispute with the
devil was seduced and ruined. Vive Jesus, in whom
I believe ! Vive the Church, to which I cling ! and
similar words of fire.
You must also say words to Jesus Christ, and to

the Holy Spirit (such as he will suggest to you), and
even to the Church : O mother of the children of God,
never will I separate myself from you, I will to live
and die in your bosom.
I know not if I make myself understood. I mean
to say that we must fight back with affections and
not with reasons ;
with passions of the heart aad not
with considerations of the mind. It is true that in
these times of temptations the poor will is quite dry;

but so much the better : its acts will be so much the
more terrible to the enemy, who, seeing that instead
of retarding your progress he gives you an opportu
nity of exercising a thousand virtuous affections, and

particularly the protestation of faith, will leave you at
last.
In the third place, it will be sometimes good to

* Matt. iv.
apply fifty or sixty strokes of the discipline, or thirty,

as you may be disposed. It is remarkable how good
this recipe was found in a soul whom I know. It is,
doubtless, because the exterior pain diverts the in

terior mischief and affliction, and provokes the mercy
of God. Add that the wicked one, seeing that his
partisan and confederate the flesh is getting beaten,

fears and flees. But this third remedy must be used
with moderation, and according to the profit you find
from it after the experience of some days.
In fine, these temptations are only afflictions,
like others ;
and we must stay ourselves on the saying
of Holy Scripture Blessed is he that suffers tempta
:
tion; for when he has been tried he shall receive the

crown of glory* Know that I have seen few persons
make progress without this trial, and we must have
patience. Our God, after the storms will send the
calm. But above all use the first and second remedy.
For the fourth point, I amnot willing to change
the offerings you made the first time you vowed your
self, nor the condition which was appointed you, nor
any other thing.

As to your daily prayers, this is
m^ counsel. In
the morning make the meditation with the preparation
as I have marked it in the writing which I send for
this purpose. Add the Paternoster , Ave Maria, Credo,

Veni Creator, Ave Maris Stella, Angele Dei, and a
short prayer to the two Saints John, and the two Saints
Francis of Assisi and of Paula, which you will find in
* James i. 12.
the Breviary, or perhaps you already have them in

the little book you mean to send me. Salute all the
Saints with this vocal prayer :
Holy Mary, and all Saints, deign to intercede for us

with our Lord, that we may obtain to be helped and
saved by him who liveth and reigneth, world without
end. Amen*
Having saluted the Saints who are in heaven, say a
Paternoster and Ave for the faithful departed, and
another for the faithful living. Thus you will have
visited all the church, one part of which is in heaven,
another on earth, another under the earth, as St. Paul

and St. John witness. This will take you a full
hour.
Hear Mass every day, if possible, in the manner
which I have described in writing on meditation.
And either at Mass or in the course of the day I
wish the Rosary to be said with the greatest devotion
possible.
Throughout the day, plenty of ejaculatory prayers,

and specially those of the hours when they strike;
this is a useful devotion.
In the evening before supper, I approve of a short
recollection, with five Paternosters and Ave Marias,
to the five wounds of our Lord. The recollection
may be made by the entrance of the soul into one of

the five wounds of our Lord for five days, into the
thorns of the crown for the sixth, and into his pierced
side for the seventh for there we must begin the week,
:
*
Prayer at Prime.
and there end it; that is, on Sundays we must return

to this heart.
In the evening, about an hour or an hour and
a half before supper, retire, and say the Paternoster,
the Ave, the Credo : this done, the Confiteor up to
meet culpd ; then the examination of conscience ; after

which finish the med culpd, and say the Litany of our
Lady of Loretto, or, in order, the seven Litanies of
our Lord, our Lady, the Angels, and the others as
they are in a book made for this purpose. This book
is not easy to find ; and therefore, if you cannot get
them, the Litany of our Lady will do. This will take
you nearly half an hour.

Every day take a good half-hour s spiritual reading,
this is quite enough for each day. On Feasts you
can Vespers, and say the office of our Lady.
assist at
But if you have a great taste for the prayers you have
been used to say, do not change, I beg. And if you

happen to omit something that I order, do not make a
scruple of it ;
for here is the general rule of our
obedience written in great letters :
WE MUST DO ALL BY LOVE, AND NOTHING BY FORCE.

WE MUST LOVE OBEDIENCE RATHER THAN
FEAR DISOBEDIENCE.
I leave you the spirit of liberty not that which ;
excludes obedience, for this is the liberty of the flesh ;
but that which excludes constraint, and scruple, and

worry (empressement).
If you very much love obedience and submission, I
wish that if a just or charitable necessity require you

to omit your exercises you should make this a species
of obedience, and supply the defect by love.
I wish you to have a French translation of all the
prayers you say. I do not want you to say them in

French, but in Latin, for they will give you more
devotion ; but I want you to have the meaning at
hand, even in the Litanies of Jesus, of our Lady, and

the others. But do all this without anxiety, and in a
spirit of sweetness and love.

Your meditations will be on the life and death of
our Lord I approve your using the Exercises
of Thauler, Meditations of St. Bonaventure, and those
of Capiglia ; for being on the Gospels they are on the
life of our Lord. But you must reduce all to the
method I send you in this paper. The meditations
of the four ends of man will be useful to you,, on
condition that you always finish with an act of
confidence in God, never representing to yourself
death or hell on the one side without the cross on the
other so that, after exciting yourself to fear by the
;
one you may return to the other by confidence. The

hour of meditation must be only three-quarters
at most.
I love spiritual canticles, sung with affection.
As to the ass (body) I approve the fast of Friday,
and the frugal supper of the Saturday. I approve
your keeping it down the whole of the week, not so

much by abstinence from meats (sobriety being
observed) as by abstinence from choice in them. I
M
1 62 5/. Francis de Sales.
approve your flattering it sometimes, giving it some

oats to eat, as St. Francis did, to make it
go quicker.
I mean the discipline ; which has a wonderful force,
by stinging the flesh to quicken the spirit ; but only
use it twice a week.
You must not lessen your the frequency of
communions, unless your confessor orders it. I have
this particular consolation, on Feast-days, namely, to
know that we are going to communion together.

For the fifth point, it is the truth that I cherish,
with a very special love, our Celse-Benigne, and all
the rest of your children. Since God has given your
heart this desire to give them entirely to the service of
God, you must bring them up in this design, sweetly
inspiring suitable thoughts. Have the Confessions

of St. Augustine, and read them carefully from the end
of the eighth book you will there see St. Monica, a
;
widow, with the care of her Augustine, and many

things which will console you.
As Celse-Benigne, you must suggest generous
to
motives, and plant in his little soul the noblest and

most gallant aspirations after the service of God, and
impress on him a very low idea of mere worldly
glory ; but this little by little. In proportion as he
grows up, we will think of the particular things
required, God helping.
Meanwhile, take care, not only about him, but
about his sisters, that they sleep alone as far as
possible,or with persons in whom you have as full
confidence as in yourself. I cannot tell you how

63
important this advice is ; experience recommends it
to me every day.
If Frances wishes, of her own accord, to be a
religious, it is well : otherwise I do not approve that

her will should be anticipated by resolutions, but only,
like the others, by sweet attractions (inspirations).
We must, as much as we can, act on souls as
the angels do, by gracious and gentle movements.

But you have her brought up in
I quite approve that
the order of Puy-d Orbe, in which I hope devotion is

soon going to begin to flourish again in good earnest.
And I want you to co-operate in this intention. But
from all the girls keep away vanity of soul : it is
almost born with the sex.

I know you have the Epistles of St. Jerome in
French: look at what he says of Pacatula and the

others, about the education of girls: they will do you
good. Still you must use moderation. I have said
all when I have said "
sweet attractions. "
I see that you owe 2,000 crowns; hasten the

payment all you can, and be sure to avoid retaining
anything of any one s, as far as possible.
Give some little alms, but with great humility. I
like the visitation of the sick, of the old, and women

chiefly, and of the young when quite young. I like
the visitation of the poor particularly of women, with

;
great humility and mildness.

For the sixth point, I approve your dividing your
abode between your father and your father-in-law, and
that you occupy yourself in procuring the good of
M 2
their souls, after the fashion of the angels, as I have
said. If the stay at Dijon is a little longer, no

matter : it is also
your primary duty. Try to make
yourself every day more agreeable to both your fathers,
and further their salvation in a spirit of sweetness.
No doubt the winter you better at Dijon.
will suit
I am writing to your father, and as he had com

manded me to write him something for the good of
his soul, I have done it with much simplicity, perhaps
too much.
My advice lies in two points :

one, that he should
make a general review of all his life for a general
confession ;
a thing without which no man of honour
should die; the other that he should try little by
little to despoil himself of worldly affections and I
tell him the way to do it.
I propose this to him, in my opinion clearly and

gently enough ;
and with we this conclusion, that
must not exactly break through the ties of alliance
which we have with the affairs of the world, but

unsew and undo them. He will shew you the letter,
I doubt not. Help him to understand and practise it.
You owe him a great charity in leading him to a
happy end, and no consideration should hinder you

from employing yourself in this with a holy ardour ;
for he is the first neighbour whom God obliges you to
love ;
and the first part you should love in him is his
soul, and in his soul the conscience, and in his con

science, purity, and in purity the seizing hold of eternal
life. I say the same to your father-in-law.
Perhaps your honoured father, not knowing me, will

find my freedom improper; but make me known to
him, and I am sure he will love me for this freedom

more than for anything else.
I am writing to Monseigneur de Bourges a letter of
five sheets, in which I point out to him the method of
preaching, and with this I tell him my opinion about
several points of the life of an archbishop. Well, as
for him, I have no doubt he will find it agreeable. In
fine, what would you further? Father, brother, uncle,
children, all are infinitely dear to me.
As for the seventh point, about the spirit of liberty,
I will tell you what it is.
Every good man is free from acts of mortal sin, and

does not keep any affection to it. This is a liberty
necessary for salvation. I do not speak of this ; the

liberty of which I speak is the liberty of well-beloved
children. And what is it? It is a detachment of the
Christian heart from all things to follow the known will
of God. You will easily understand what I mean to
say, if God gives me the grace to propose to you the
marks, signs, effects, occasions of this liberty.
We ask from God before all things, that his name
may be hallowed, his kingdom come, his will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
All this is no other thing than the spiritof liberty;
for provided that the name of God is sanctified, that
his majesty reigns in you, that his will is done, the
soul cares for nothing else. First mark : the soul
which has this liberty is not attached to consolations,
but receives afflictions with all the sweetness that the

flesh can permit. I do not say that it does not love
and desire consolations, but I say that it does not
attach its heart to them. Second mark : it does not
at all attach its affection to spiritual exercises; so that,
ifby sickness or other accident kept from them, it feels

no grief thereat. Here also I do not say it does not
love them, but I say it is not attached to them.
Such a heart scarcely loses its joyfulness, because
no privation makes him sad whose heart is quite un
attached. I do not say he does not lose it, but that
he scarcely loses it, that is, only for a short time.
The effects of this liberty are a great suavity of
soul, a great gentleness and condescension in all that
isnot sin or danger of sin ; a temper sweetly pliable to
the acts of every virtue and charity.
For example interrupt a soul which is attached to
:
the exercise of meditation; you will see it leave with
annoyance, worried and surprised. soul which has A

true liberty will leave its exercise with an equal coun
tenance, and a heart gracious towards the importunate

person who has inconvenienced her. For it is all one
to her whether she serve God by meditating, or serve
him by bearing with her neighbour both are the will :
of God, but the bearing with her neighbour is

necessary
at that time.
The occasions of this liberty are all the things which
happen against our inclination; for whoever is not

attached to his inclinations, is not impatient when they
are contradicted.
This liberty has two opposite vices, instability and
constraint, or dissolution and slavery. Instability, or

dissolution of spirit,
a certain excess of liberty, by
is
which we change our exercises, our state of life, with

out proof or knowledge that such change is God s
will. On the smallest occasion practices, plan, rule
are changed ; for every little occurrence we leave our
rule and laudable custom :
and, thus the heart is dissi
pated and ruined, and is like an orchard open on all
sides, whose fruits are not for its owners, but for all
passers by.
Constraint or slavery is a certain want of
liberty by
which the soul isoverwhelmed with either disgust or
anger, when it cannot do what it has planned, though
still able to do better.
For example : I design to make my meditation every
day in the morning. If I have the spirit of insta
bility, or dissolution, on the least occasion in the

world 1 shall put it the evening for a dog
off till
which kept me from sleeping, for a letter I have to

write, of no urgency whatever. On the other hand,
if I have the spirit of constraint or servitude, I
shall not leave my meditation at that hour, even
if a sick person have great need of my help at the
time, even if I have a despatch which is of great
importance, and which cannot well be put off, and

so on.
It remains for me to give you one or two examples
of this liberty which will better make you understand

what I cannot properly describe. But first I must tell
you that you are to observe two rules, to avoid stumbling

in this point.
A
person should never omit his exercises and the
common rules of virtues unless he sees the will of God
on the other side. Now, the will of God shows itself
in two ways, by necessity and charity. I want to preach
this Lent in a little place of my diocese if, however, ;
I get ill, or break my leg, I must not be grieved or

disquieted because I cannot preach for it is certainly ;
the will of God that I should serve him by suffering

and not by preaching. Or if I am not ill, but an
occasion presents itself of going to some other place,
where, if I go not, the people will become Huguenots,

there is the will of God sufficiently declared to turn
me gently from my design.
The second rule is that when we are to use liberty
for the sake of charity, it mast be without scandal
and without injustice. For example I may know that :
I should be more useful somewhere very far from my

diocese. I cannot use liberty in this; for I should
scandalize and commit injustice, because I am obliged
to be here. Hence, this liberty never interferes with
vocations ; on the contrary, it makes each one satisfied
with his own, since each should know that he is
placed
in itby the will of God.
Now, I want you to look at Cardinal Borromeo, who
is going to be canonized in a few days. His was a

spirit the most exact, rigid, and austere that it is pos
imagine he drank nothing but water, and eat

sible to :
nothing but bread; he was so austere that, after he

was archbishop, he only entered twice during twenty-

four years into the house of his brothers, when ill, and
twice into his garden. Yet, this rigorous soul, when
eating with the Swiss, his neighbours, as he often did
to keep a good influence over them, made no difficulty
in drinking bumpers and healths with them, besides
what he drank for his thirst. There is a trait of holy
liberty in the most austere man of this age. A dis

solute spirit would have done too much a constrained
;
spirit would have considered it a mortal sin; a spirit

of liberty would have done it for charity.
Spiridion,an ancient bishop, having received a pil

grim almost dead with hunger, during Lent, and in a
place in which there was nothing but salt-meat, had
some of this cooked, and offered it to the pilgrim.
The pilgrim was unwilling to take it, in spite of his
necessity. Spiridion had no need of it, but ate some
first for charity, in order to remove, by his example,
the scruple of the pilgrim. Here was a charitable
liberty in this holy man.

Father Ignatius of Loyola, who is going to be
canonized, ate meat on Wednesay in Holy Week on
the simple order of the doctor, who judged it expedient
for a little sickness he had. A
spirit of constraint
would have had to be besought three days.
But I want now to show you a shining sun of
detachment, a spirit truly free, and unbound by any

engagement, and holding only to the will of God. I
have often thought what was the greatest mortifica
tion of all the Saints I know ;
and after many con-
1
siderations I have found this : St. John Baptist went

into the desert at the age of five years, and knew that
our and his Saviour was born quite near him, that is,
one day s journey, or two or three, or so. God knows
whether St. John s heart, touched with the love of his
Saviour from the womb of his mother, desired to enjoy
his holy presence. Yet he stays twenty-five years
there in the desert, without going even once to see
our Saviour. Then he stays everywhere to catechize,
without going to our Lord, and waits for him to go to
him afterwards, having baptized our Lord, he does
:
not follow him, but stays to do his own work. O

God ! what a mortification of spirit ! To be so near
his Saviour, and not to see him ! to have him so near
and not to enjoy him ! And what is this but to have
the heart free from all, even from God himself, to do
the will of God and to serve him ? To leave God for
God, and not to love God, in order so much better

and more purely to love him This example over !
whelms my soul with its grandeur.

I forgot to say that the will of God is known not
only by necessity and charity, but by obedience ; so
that he who receives a command must believe that it
is the will of God. Am I not writing too much ?

but my spirits runs quicker than I wish, carried on
by the ardent desire of serving you.
For the eighth point, remember the day of the
blessed King St. Louis, the day on which you took
again the crown of your kingdom from your own

soul to lay it at the feet of the King Jesus : the day
7 1
on which you renewed your youth, like the eagle,
plunging it penance a day, the harbin

in the sea of ;
ger of the eternal day of your soul. Remember that

after the grand resolutions you expressed of being all
God s, body, heart, and soul, I said Amen, on behalf

of the whole Church our Mother and at the same :
time, the Holy Virgin, with all the Saints and blessed
made their great Amen and Alleluia resound in
heaven. Remember to hold that all the past is
nothing, and that every day you must say with David :
now I have begun * to love my God properly. Do

much for God, and do nothing without love. Apply
all to this love ; eat and drink for it.
Be devout to St. Louis, and admire in him his great
constancy. He was king at twelve, had nine children,

made war continually, against either rebels or the
enemies was king more than forty years ;
of the faith ;
and at the end of all, his confessor, a holy man,

swore that having confessed him all his life, he had
never found that he had fallen into mortal sin. He
made two voyages beyond the sea : in both he lost his
army, and in the latter he died of pestilence, after

having for a long time visited, helped, served, dressed
and cured the plague-stricken of his army and dies
joyous, constant, with a verse of David in his mouth. f
I give you this saint as your special patron for all the
year; you will have him before your eyes, with the
others named above. In the coming year, if it please
* Ps. Ixxvi. ii.
k
t I will enter into your house, Lord, &c. Ps. v. 8.
i/2 St. Francis de Sales.
God, I will give you another, after you have profited

well in the school of this one.
For the ninth point, believe two things about me :
the one that God wants you to make use of me, so

do not hesitate ; the other, that in what is for your
salvation, God will help me with light necessary to

serve you ;
as to the will, he has already given it me
so strong, that it cannot be stronger. I have received
the note of your vows, which I guard and regard
(garde et regarde) carefully, as a fit instrument of our
alliance, entirely founded on God, and which will last
for eternity, by the mercy of him who is the author

of it.
Monseigneur, the Bishop of Saluzzo, one of my

most intimate friends, and one of the greatest servants
of God and the Church, died a little while ago, to the
incredible sorrow of his people, who had only enjoyed
his labours one year and a half; for we were made
bishops together and on the very same day. I ask
you for three chaplets for his repose, certain that if

he had outlived me he would have procured me
a like charity from all those with whom, he had
credit.
You seem, from one passage of your letter, to con

siderit settled that we shall see one another again
some day. May God will it, my dearest sister but !
for my part, I see nothing before my eyes which

can make me hope to have the liberty to go
thither ! I told you the reason in confidence, at Saint-
Claude.
I am tied here, hand and foot, and as for you, my

good sister, does not the inconvenience of the past
ourney frighten you ? But we will see, between this

and Easter, what God wishes from us his holy will :
be ever ours.
I pray you to bless God with me for the effects of
the voyage of Saint-Claude : I cannot tell them you,

but they are great ;
and at your first leisure write me
the history of your gate of Saint-Claude,* and believe
that it is not from curiosity that I ask it.
My mother is as entirely yours as she can be. I
have been consoled to see that you willingly call
Madame du Puy-dÔrbe sister ;

she is a great soul if
well assisted, and God will make use of her to the
glory of his name

help her and visit her by
; letter.
God will be pleased with you for it.

If I decide for myself, I shall never finish this letter,
which is written without other design than to answer
yours. Still I must finish it, begging the great assis
tance of your prayers, and declaring my great need

of them. I never pray without making you part
of the subject of my prayers. I never salute the
angels without saluting yours ;

do the same for me,
and get Celse-Benigne to do it. I always pray for
him and for all your household Be sure I never !
forget them, nor their deceased father, in Holy Mass.

God be in your heart, your mind, your soul, my
dearest sister ;
and I am in his merciful love, your very
* Madame de Chantal
Referring to a certain vision of s.
devoted servant, with liberty because it is par homme*

Pray sometimes for the return of my unfortunate
Geneva.
* I think this means that his sort of feudal service to Madame

de Chantal is not direct, .but by deputy, as kings acknowledged
their vassalship.
BOOK TV.
LETTERS TO MEX OP THE WORLD.
LETTER I.
To A FRIEND.
Way to live in peace.
IF you wish nothing to cross your life, desire
not reputation or the glory of the world.

Attach yourself not to human consolations and
friendships.
Love not your life, and despise all that may be
painful to your natural inclinations.

Support generously the pains of the body and the
most violent maladies, with acquiescence in the will of
God.
Trouble not yourself about human judgments.
Keep silence about all things, and you shall have
interior peace ; because, for me and for you there is
no other secret to acquire this peace save to suffer,
h la rigueur, the judgments of men.

Disturb not yourself about what the world will say
of you ; await the judgment of God, and your patience
i
will then judge those who will have judged you.

Those who run at the ring do not think of the
company which is looking at them, but of running

well in order to carry it off. Think for whom you
labour, and those who wish to give you pain will
hardly do so. Your humble, &c.
LETTER II.
To A GENTLEMAN WHO WAS GOING TO LIVE AT COURT.

8th December, 1610.
SIR, At last then you are going to make sail, and

take the open sea of the world at court. God be
gracious to you, and may his holy hand be ever

with you !
I am not so fearful as many others, and I do not

think that profession one of the most dangerous for
those of noble souls and manly heart ; for there are
but two principal rocks in this gulf vanity, which :
ruins spirits that are soft, slothful, feminine, and weak
(flouets) ; and ambition, which ruins audacious and

presumptuous hearts.
And as vanity is a defect of courage, and has

not the strength to undertake the acquisition of true
and solid praise, but desires and is content with the
false and the empty so ambition is an excess of
;
courage, which leads us to purchase glories and

honours without and against the rule of reason.
Letters to Men of the World. 177
Thus vanity causes us to occupy ourselves with

thosesilly gallantries which are in praise with women
and other little spirits, and in contempt with great
hearts and elevated souls ; and ambition makes us
want have honours before deserving them.
to It is
ambition which makes us put to our own credit,

and at too high price, the merit of our predecessors,
and we would willingly gain our esteem from theirs.
Well, sir, against all this, since it pleases you that

I speak so, continue to nourish your soul with
spiritual and Divine meats, for they will make us

strong against vanity, and just against ambition.
Keep carefully tocommunion
frequent and, ;
believe me, you could do nothing more calculated to
strengthen yourself in virtue. And to make your

self quite this practice, put yourself under
safe in
the orders of some good confessor, and beseech him to
take authority to make you give an account in
confession of the failures you may make in this
exercise, by chance you make any.

if Always confess
humbly, and with a true and express purpose of
amendment.
Never forget (and conjure you) to ask
this I
on your knees the help of our Lord, before leaving

your house, and to ask the pardon of your sins before
going to bed.
Especially beware of bad books ; and for nothing in
the world let your soul be carried away by certain
writings which weak brains admire, because of some

vain subtleties which they find therein. Such are the
N
works of that infamous Rabelais, and certain others

of our age, who profess to doubt everything, to despise
everything, and to scoff at all the maxims of antiquity.

On the contrary, have books of solid doctrine, and
specially Christian and spiritual ones to recreate your
self in from time to time.
I recommend you the gentle and sincere courtesy
to
which offends no one and obliges all which seeks ;
love rather than honour ;

which never any one rallies
so as to hurt them, nor stingingly ; which repels no

one and is itself never repelled. Or, if repelled, it is
but rarely; in exchange for which it is very often
honourably advanced.
Take care, I beseech you, not to embarrass
your
self in love-makings (amourettes), and not to allow
your affections to prevent your judgment and reason,
in the choice of objects of love; for, when once
inclination has taken its drags the judgment
course, it
which are very improper, well

like a slave to decisions
worthy of the repentance which soon follows them.

I would wish that, first, in speech, in bearing, and
in intercourse with others, you should make open and
express profession of wishing to live virtuously,
judiciously, persevering] y, and Christianly.
I say virtuously, that no one may attempt to
engage you in immoralities.

Judiciously, that you may not show extreme signs,
exteriorly, of your intention, but such only as,
according to your condition, may not be censured by

the wise.
Perseveringly, because unless you show with per

severance an equal and inviolable will, you will expose
your resolutions to the designs and attempts of many

miserable souls, who attack others to draw them to
their company.
In fine, I say Christianly, because some make
profession of wishing to be virtuous philosophically
(GL
la philosophique), who, however, are not so, and can
in no way be so ; and are nothing else but phantoms
of virtue, hiding from those who are not familiar with
them their bad life and ways by graceful manners and

words.
But we, who well know that we cannot have a
by the grace of our Lord,
single particle of virtue but
we must employ piety and holy devotion to live
virtuously ;
otherwise we shall have virtues only in
imagination and in shadow.

Now it is of the last importance to let ourselves be
known early such as we wish to be always, and in this
we must have no haggling (marchander).
It is also of the greatest importance to make some
friends of the like aim, with whom you can associate

and strengthen yourself. For it is a very true thing
that the company of well-regulated souls is extremely
useful to us to keep our own well regulated.

I think you will easily find either among the
Jesuits, or the Capuchins, or the Feuillants, or even

outside the monasteries, some gracious (courtois)
spirit who will be glad ifyou sometimes go to see

him, to recreate yourself, and take spiritual breath.
N 2
But you must permit me to say to you one thing

in particular.
You see, sir, I fear you may return to gaming, and
I fear it, because it will be to you a great evil : it
would, in a few days, dissipate your heart, and make

all the flowers of your good desires wither. It is the
occupation of an idler; and those who want to get
renown and introductions by playing with the great,

and who call this the best way of getting known, show
that they have no good deserts, since they have no
better credit than that of having money and wanting
to risk it. It is no great merit to be known as game
sters ; but if they meet with great losses every one
knows them to be fools. I pass over the consequences,
such as quarrels, despair and madnesses, from which

not one gamester has any exemption.
I wish you, further, a vigorous heart, not to flat
ter your body by delicacies, in eating, sleeping, and
such other softnesses for a generous heart has:
always a little contempt for bodily comforts and

pleasures.
Still our Lord said that those who are clothed in
garments are in the houses of kings* therefore do
soft
I speak to you about it. Our Lord does not mean
to say that all those who are in king s houses must
be clothed in soft garments, but he says only that
customarily those who clothe themselves softly are
there. Of course I am not speaking of the exterior
of the clothing, but of the interior ; for as to the ex-
* Matt. xi. 8.
Letters to Men of the World. 1 8 1
terior, you know far better what is

proper ;
it is not
for me to speak of it.
I mean, then, to say that I would like you some

times to correct your body so far as to make it feel
some rigours and hardships ; by the contempt of deli
cacies, and by frequent denial of things agreeable to
the senses; for, again, the reason must sometimes
exercise its superiority, and the authority which it has
to control the sensual appetites.
My God ! I am too diffuse, and I scarcely know

what I am saying, for it is without leisure^ and at odd
moments ; you know my heart, and will take all well ;
but still I must further say this.
Imagine that you were a courtier of St. Louis; this

the * is now
holy king (and king holy by innocence)
loved that every one should be brave, courageous,
generous, good-humoured, courteous, affable, free,
polite ;
and still he loved, above all, that every one
should be a good Christian.
And if you had been with him, you would have
seen him kindly laughing on occasion, speaking boldly
at proper time, taking care that all was in splendour
about him, like another Solomon, to maintain the
royal dignity ; and a moment afterwards serving the

poor in the hospitals, and, in a word, marrying civil
with Christian virtue, and majesty with humility.
In a word, this is what we must try after ; to be
no brave for being Christian, and no less Chris
less
tian for being brave ; and for this we must be very

* Louis
XIII., aged nine years.
i 82 St. Francis de Sales.
yood Christians, that is, very devout, pious, and if
passible, spiritual ; for, as St. Paul says the spiritual

;
man discerneth all things ;* he knows at what time,

in what order, by what method, each virtue must be
practised.
Form often this good thought, that we are walking
in this world between Paradise and Hell, that our last
step will place us in an eternal dwelling, and that to

make the last well, we must try to make all the others
well.
O holy and unending eternity ! blessed is he who

thinks of you. Yes ; for what do we play here in
this world but a children s game ? Nothing whatever,
if it were not the passage to eternity.
On this account, therefore, we must pay attention

to the time we have to dwell here below, and to all
our occupations, so as to employ them in the conquest

of the permanent good.
Love me alwaysas yours (chose votre), for I am so
in our Lord, wishing you every happiness for this

world, and particularly for the other may God bless :
you, and hold you by his holy hand.

And to finish where I began :
you are going to
take the high sea of the world; change not, on that
account, patron or sails, or anchor, or wind. Have

Jesus always for your patron, his cross for a mast, on
which you must spread your resolutions as a sail your :
anchor shall be a profound confidence in him, and sail

prosperously; may the favourable wind of celestial
* i Cor. ii,
15.
inspirations ever fill

your vessel s sails fuller and
and make you happily arrive at the port of a
fuller,
holy eternity, which with true heart is wished you,

sir, by your, &c.
LETTER III.
To speak too much is the worst kind of ill-speaking.
SIR, You have greatly obliged me by taking my

frankness in good part, though truly you could not
well refuse it this gracious welcome, since it went to
you with the safe-conduct of your invitation, and under
the favour of a true friendship ; otherwise I would have
taken good care not to send it. I will by no means
return upon the declaration it pleases you to make to
me of your intention in the edition of the little book,*
for I should be sorry if I had ever had a single little
suspicion to the contrary : but I will only say this

word which springs from the disposition of my soul.
If any one had spoken or written extravagantly of
authority, he would be very wrong ; for there is no

way of bad speaking worse than too much speaking.
If we say less than we should it is
easy to add : but
after having said too much it is hard to take off, and
* St. Francis had disapproved a book of which his correspondent
was the author, or which had at least been published by his
means.
we can never make the withdrawal soon enough to

hinder the harm of the excess.
Now, this is the height of virtue, to correct immo

deration moderately. almost impossible to arrive
It is
at this point of perfection. I say almost, because of

him who said, / was peaceful with those who hated
peace.* Otherwise, I think I should not have said
it. Huntsmen push into the brambles, and often
return more injured than the animal they intended to
injure. The greater part of these ill-advised state

ments which are made or written are better met by
disdain than by opposition ; but let us speak of them
no more. To Csesar what is Caesar s, but to God also
what is God s.
I write to you without leisure, you will bear with,
me, please, according to your kindness, having regard

tomy affection which is entirely inclined to honour
and cherish you very specially. And now, I pray our
Lord to fill you with the grace, peace, and sweetness
of his holy spirit, and to give his sacred benediction
to all your family ; leaving beyond this, the bearer to
tell you how well our daughter is, I am your, &c.
LETTER IV.
To AN AUTHOR.
A magistrate who had sent him a ~book of Christian poetry.
SIR, It has been to me an extremely grateful honour
to have received from you these rich and devout

* Ps. cxix. 6.
studies which the Rev. Father Angelas le Blanc has

handed me ;
and if I had the rich scented casket or
cabinet steeped in unguents, which that prince of old,
Alexander the Great, destined for the keeping of the
works of Homer, I would destine it also for the
treasuring of this beautiful present. It is by so much
the more precious to me, as I had the less reason to
dare to hope for it, since I did not even think you
knew I was in the world ;
inwhich being truly so
small a thing, held in this nook of our mountains, I
think myself invisible. But still, as the strong lights
discover the atoms, so have you been able to see me.

But since it has pleased you, sir, to turn not only
your thought, but what is still more, your good will,

towards me, I beseech you very humbly to continue
this grace in my regard, by the same courtesy and good
ness which has made it spring in your soul, without
any merit on my part. And if I cannot by effects,
at least I will try by correspond with this
affection, to
favour, ever bearing you an honour, or even, if you

allow this word, a love, very special. I am further
drawn to this by this learned piety which makes you

so happily transform the Pagan into Christian muses,
taking them from that old profane Parnassus, and

putting them on the new sacred Calvary.
And would to God that so many Christian poets
who have in our age worthily shown, like you, sir,
the beauty of their minds, had also, like you, shown

the goodness of their judgment in the choice of the
subjects of their poems ! The corruption of manners

would not be so great ;

for it is a marvel how words
marshalled by the laws of verse, have power to pene
trate hearts and subdue the memory. May God
pardon them the abuse they have made of their
learning. And do you, sir, ever employ and enjoy

thus holily the beautiful, rich, and excellent mind
which the Divine Majesty has bestowed on you in
this temporal life, you may rejoice for
in order that
ever, contemplating and gloriously singing the same

mysteries in eternal life.
I am with all my heart your, &c.
LETTER V.
To A LORD OF THE COURT.*

in the midst
The Saint rejoices that he preserves piety of
the Court.
Annecy, I2th September, 1614.

I HAVE no greater glory in this world, Monsieur
my son, than to be named father of such a son,
and no sweeter consolation than to see the pleasure
you take in it ; but I will not say any more on this
subject, which indeed is
beyond my speech.
It is enough that God does me this grace, which
isevery day more delicious to me, as I am being told
on every hand that you live in God, although amid
this world.
*
Probably the Baron de Lux.
O Jesus, my God ! what happiness to have a son

who knows how to sing so beautifully the
songs of
Sion in the land of Babylon The Israelites excused
!
themselves formerly from this, because not only were
they among the Babylonians, but also captives and

slaves of the Babylonians but he who is not in the
;
slavery of the court, he can even in the court adore

the Lord and serve him holily.
No indeed, my dearest son, though you may change
place, occupations and society, you will never, I trust,
change your heart, nor your heart its love, nor your
love its object; since you could not choose either a
worthier love for your heart, or a worthier object
for your love than him who will make it eternally
happy. Thus the variety of the faces of court and
world will make no change in yours. Your eyes will
ever regard heaven, to which you aspire, and your
mouth will ever demand the sovereign good which
you hope to have there.

But think, I beg you, my dear son, what an incom
parable joy it would have been to me to get near you
on the opportunity of meeting of the Estates
this
(of Burgundy), to be able to speak to you with that

new confidence which these names of father and of
son would have given me. Still God not wishing it,
since he allows me to be tied here, neither you nor I
ought to wish it. You will then be my Josue there

and will fight for the cause of God actually ; and as
for me I will be here like another Moses, and will
hold up my hands to heaven, imploring for you the
Divine mercy, that you may overcome the difficulties

your good intention will meet.
Ask you henceforth to love me, I will not, since I
can say. it to you more briefly and expressively; be
then my true son, with all your heart, sir, as I am with
all mine, not only your very humble and obedient
servant, but your father, inimitably affectionate, &c.
LETTER VI.

We cannot have the true intelligence of the Holy Scriptures
outside the Church.
2nd July, 1619.
SIR, It is
very true that the Sacred Scripture contains
with much clearness thedoctrine required for your
salvation, and I never thought the contrary.

It is also true that it is a very good method of in
terpreting the Sacred Scripture to compare passages

with one another, and to reduce the whole to the
analogy of the faith; that also I have ever said. But
allthe same I cease not to believe quite certainly, and
to say constantly, that in spite of this admirable and
delightful clearness of the Scripture on things neces
sary for salvation, the human spirit does not always

find the true sense of it ;
but can err, and in fact very
often does err, in the intelligence of passages which

are the most clear and the most necessary for the
establishment of the faith.
89
Witness the Lutheran errors, and the Calvinist

books, which, under the conduct of the fathers of the
pretended Reform, remain in irreconcilable contradic

tion on the meaning of the words of institution of the
Blessed Eucharist. While both sides boast of having
carefully and faithfully examined the sense of these
works by comparing other passages of Holy Scripture,
and adjusting the whole to the analogy of faith, they
still remain opposed in their
way of understanding
words of such great importance. Scripture, then, is
plain in its words, but the heart of man is
dim-sighted,
and, like a night-owl, cannot see this brightness.
The above-mentioned method is
very good, but the
human spirit knows not how to use it. It is the
Spirit of God, sir, which gives the true sense of it to
us, and gives it

only to his Church, the column and
support of the truth; the Church, by whose ministry
this Divine Spirit keeps and maintains his truth, that
is, the true sense of his word ; the Church, which

alone has the infallible assistance of the Spirit of
Truth to find the truth clearly, surely, and infallibly
in the Word of God. So that he who seeks the
truth of this celestial word outside that Church which
is the guardian of it, never finds it. And he who
wants to know it otherwise than through the Church s
ministry, instead of embrace vanity,

truth, will only
and instead of the certain clearness of the sacred word
will follow the illusions of that false angel, who trans
forms himself into an angel of light.
Thus acted formerly all heretics, who have all
i
go St. Francis de Sales.
professed to have the

understanding of the
better
Scripture, and to wish to reform the Church; vainly

seeking truth outside the bosom of the spouse.
Whereas the heavenly Spouse confided it to her as
to a faithful depositary and guardian, who would

distribute it to the dear children of the nuptial bed,
which is, and will be for ever, without stain.
This, then, is the substance of what I have to say,
sir, and it is neither by little

contrary nor by much
to the doctrine holy Fathers, which M. de
of the
Mornay gives in the book which you pleased to send

me yesterday evening. This I send back to-day, with
thanks, and declaring that I shall continually desire
to be able, by some happy opportunity, to testify, sir,
that I am yours, &c.
LETTER VII.
To A GENTLEMAN WHO WISHED TO LEAVE THE WORLD.
SIR, Go and bless our Lord for the favourable inspira

tion he has given you to withdraw yourself from this
great and wide road which those of your age and pro
fession are accustomed to follow, and by which they
ordinarily arrive at a thousand kinds of vices and
inconveniences, and very often at eternal damnation.

Meanwhile, to make this Divine vocation fruitful, to
realize more clearly the state which you are about to
choose, and to better satisfy this infinite mercy, which

9 1
invites you to his perfect love, I counsel you to prac
tise these exercises for the three months following.

Firstly, to cut off some satisfactions of the senses,
which you might take without offending God ; and for

thispurpose always to rise at six, whether you have
slept well or badly, provided you are not ill
(for in that
caseyou would have to condescend to the sickness) ;
and to do something more on Fridays, rise at five.

This arrangement will give you more leisure to make
your prayer and reading.
Also, to accustom yourself to say every day, after
or before prayer, fifteen Our Fathers, and fifteen Hail
Marys, with your arms extended in the form of a

cross.
Moreover, to renounce the pleasures of the taste,

eating those meats at table which may be less agree
able to you, provided they are not unwholesome, and
leaving those to which your taste may have more in

clination.
Further, I would wish you sometimes in the week

to sleep clothed.
For these little light austerities will serve you to a
double end; the one, to impetrate more surely the
light required for your spirit to make its choice (for
the lowering of the body in those who have entire
strength and marvellously raises the spirit) ;

health
the other, to try and to feel austerity, in order to see
if you could embrace it, and what repugnance you
will have to This experiment is necessary to test

it.
the slight inclination you have to leave the world ; and

1
if you are faithful in the practice of the little which

I propose to you, you will be able to judge what you
would be in the much, which is practised in religious
orders.
Pray earnestly to our Lord to illuminate you, and

say often to him the word of St. Paul Lord, what :
would you have me to do .?* and that of David : Teach

me to do thy will, for thou art my God.\ Above all, if
you awake during the night, employ well this time in

speaking to our Lord on your choice protest often to ;
his majesty that you resign to him, and leave in his
hands the disposition of all the moments of your life,

aad that he must please dispose of them at his will.
Fail not to make your prayer morning and evening,
when you can ; with a little retreat before supper, to
liftup your heart unto our Lord.

Take pastimes which are of the more vigorous kind,
such as riding, leaping, and the like; and not the soft
ones, such cards and dancing.
as But if you are
touched with some vainglory about those others,
alas !
you must say, what does all this profit one for
eternity ?
Go to communion every Sunday, and always with

prayers to beg the light you need and on feast-days :
you may well visit, as an exercise, holy places the

Capuchins, St. Bernard s, the Carthusians. May God
grant you his peace, his grace, his light, and his most
holy consolation.
If you feel the inspiration towards religion gather
* Acts ix. 6. Ps. cxlii. n. f
strength, and your heart urged by it, take counsel

with your confessor j and in case you make a resolu
tion, gradually dispose your grandfather towards it,
that the annoyance and pain of your leaving may
fall as little as possible on religion, and that you only
may be burdened with it. Oh ! how good is God to
his Israel / How good to the right of heart*
CONSIDERATIONS PROPER FOR A PERSON WHO HAS AN

INSPIRATION TO QUIT THE WORLD.
I. Consider, first, that our Lord, being able to
oblige his creatures to all sorts of services and obe

diences towards him, has not, however, willed to do
so, but is satisfied with obliging us to the keeping of

his commandments. So that, if he had pleased to
ordain that we should fast all our life, that we should
all live the life of hermits Carthusians, Capuchins,
still it would be nothing to the great duty we owe
him ;
and yet he is content that we simply keep his
commandments.
Consider, secondly, that though he has not
II.
obliged us to any greater service than we pay him in

keeping his commandments, still he has invited and
counselled us to live a very perfect life, and to observe
an entire renouncement of the vanities and concu
piscences of the world.
III. Consider, thirdly, that whether we embrace
the counsels of our Lord, giving ourselves to a stricter
life, or whether we live in the common life, and in the

* Ps.
Ixxii. i.
1
mere observance of the commandments, in each we

shall have some difficulty. If we leave the world we
shallhave labour to keep our appetites continually
guarded and subject, to renounce ourselves, give up

our own will, and live in a very absolute subjection,
under the laws of obedience, and poverty. chastity,

If we stay in the common path, we shall have a per
petual labour in fighting the world which will sur

round us, in resisting the frequent occasions of sin
which beset us, and in keeping our bark safe amid the
tempests.
IV. Consider, fourthly, that in both one life and
the other, serving our Lord well, we shall have a
thousand consolations. Out of the world, the mere
satisfaction of having left all for God is worth more
than a thousand worlds ; the satisfaction of being con
ducted by obedience, of being preserved by laws, and
of being, as it were, under protection from the chief
snares of life, are sweet satisfactions. I leave out the
peace and tranquillity found there, the pleasure of

being occupied night and day in prayers and Divine
things, and a thousand such deliciousnesses (delices).
And as to the common life, the liberty, the variety of
the service he can pay our Lord, the ease of having
only to observe the commandments of God, and a

hundred other such considerations, make it
very
delectable.
On all this you will say to God : Ah !
Lord, in
what state shall I serve you ? Ah my
!
soul, wherever
thy God calls thee, thou shalt be faithful to him.

But on which side do you think you will do best ?

Examine your spirit, to know if it does not feel more
inclination to one side than the other; and having

ascertained this, still do not as yet resolve, but wait
till
you are told.
OTHER CONSIDERATIONS.
Imagine you see St. Joseph and our Lady, just

I.
before our Lord s birth, arrive in Bethlehem, and

seek a lodging everywhere, without finding any one
willing to receive O God what contempt

them. !
and rejection of heavenly and holy persons does the

world show, and how willingly do these two holy
souls embrace this abjection They do not set !
themselves up, they make no remonstrances about

their quality, but quite simply receive these refusals
and this harshness with an unequalled sweetness. Oh!

miserable that I am, the least forgetfulness of the
punctilious honour which is my due, or which I think

my due, troubles me, disquiets me, excites my arro
gance and pride, everywhere I force myself into the

front rank. Alas when shall I have that virtue,
!
the contempt of myself and of vanities !
II. Consider howJoseph and our Lady enter

St.
the hollow and shed which sometimes served for a stable

to strangers, to effect the glorious bringing-forth of
the Saviour. Wherethe proud edifices which
are
the ambition of the world raises for the habitation of

vile and detestable sinners ? Ah ! what contempt of
the grandeurs of the world has this Divine Saviour
O 2
taught us ! How
happy are those who know how to
love holy simplicity and moderation A miserable !
wretch like me must have palaces and is not satisfied ;
then : and behold my Saviour under a broken roof,

and on straw, poorly and pitifully lodged !
III.Consider this Divine baby, born naked, shiver
ing in a manger, in swaddling-clothes. Alas how !
poor all is, how vile and abject, in this birth ! How
soft are we, and slaves to our comforts, and in
love with sensualities ! We
must strongly excite in
ourselves the contempt of the world, and the desire of
suffering for our Lord abjections, discomforts, poverty

and need. If you are sometimes a little difficult to
treat in your temporal infirmities, little by little this
will pass. The human spirit makes so many turns

and doubles, without our thinking of it, that we must
make some wry faces he who makes the least is the
:
best.
LETTER VIII.
To A DOCTOR.
That we must resign ourselves to Goffs will in the death
of our parents.
MY DEAR SON, The true science of God teaches us,

above all things, that his will ought to bring our
heart to his obedience, and make us find good, as
indeed it is most good, all that it ordains for the
children of his good pleasure.
You will be, I am sure, of these, and on this
principle you will acquiesce, gently and humbly,

though not without a feeling of sorrow, in the
mercy he has granted to your good mother, whom

he has withdrawn into the bosom of his blessed
eternity. Thus do the preceding circumstances give
us every reason to believe, with as much certainty as
we may rightly have in such a matter. Well then,
it is done, this is what I had to say to you. Weep
now, but moderate your tears and bless God for this ;
mother will be good to you, as you must hope, much

more where she is, then she could have been where
she was. Behold her then there with the eyes of
your faith, and so calm your soul.
Your good father is well in health and better in
spirits. For about a month now he has worn his
mourning, of mixed sorrow and consolation, accord

ing to the two parts of his soul. Study ever harder
and harder in a spirit of diligence and humility; and
I am all
yours.
LETTER IX.
To MONSIEUR DE ROCHEFORT.
Consolations on the death of his son.
2Qth January , 1614.
SIR, Knowing what you have felt about your son by

what I have felt myself, I realize that your pain has
been extreme; for truly, remembering the content

ment which you took in speaking to me the other day
about this child, I felt a great compassion, when I
reflected how painful would be your sorrow at the news
of his decease ; but still I did not dare to express to
you my sympathy, not knowing whether the loss was

certain, nor whether it had been announced to you.
And now, sir, I come too late to contribute towards
the consolation of your heart, which will already, I
am sure, have received much relief, so as no longer
to remain in the grief which so sensible an affliction
had caused it.
For you will have well known how to consider that

this dear child was more God s than yours, who had it
only as a loan from that sovereign liberality. And if
his Providence judged that it was time to withdraw it
to himself, we must believe that it was for the child s
good, in which a loving father like you must quietly

acquiesce. Our age not so delightsome that those
is
who quit it should be much lamented. This son has,

I think, gained much by leaving it almost before pro
it.
perly entering
The word dead" is terrifying, as it is spoken to us
"
for some one comes to you and says your dear father is :
dead, and your son is dead but this is not a fit way
:
of speaking among we should say

us Christians, for :
your son or your father has gone into his and your
country; and because it was necessary he has passed

through death, not stopping in it. I know not, in
deed, how we can in right judgment esteem this world

to be our country, in which we are for so short a
time, in comparison with heaven, in which we are to

be eternally. We are on our way, and are more
assured of the presence of our dear friends there above
than of these here below ; for those are expecting us,
and we go towards them ;

these let us go, and will
delay as long after us as they can, and if they go with

us, it is against their will.
But if some remains of sorrow still oppress your
mind for the departure of this sweet soul, throw your
heart before our Lord crucified, and ask his help; he
will give it you, and will inspire into you the thought
and the firm resolution to prepare yourself well to make
in your turn, at the hour he has fixed, this terrifying
passage, in such way that you may happily arrive at
the place in which we hope already is lodged our poor
or rather, our happy departed. Sir, if I am heard
in my continual desire, you will be filled with all holy
prosperity; for it is with all my heart that I cherish
and honour yours, and in this occasion, and in every
other, I name myself and make myself, sir, your, &c.
LETTER X.
To A MAN or THE WORLD.

Consolations on the death of his wife.
Annccy, yth August. 1621.
SIR, I have just learnt from Doctor Grandis the pain

ful yet happy decease of Madam, your dear spouse.
2oo St. Francis de Sales.
Truly, my heart has been as much touched by it as any

loss I have experienced for a long time ; for the good
ness, the piety, and the virtue which I had seen in

that beautiful soul had so far obliged me to honour
her, that I had made a solemn profession to do so
henceforward. How happy she is, this dear lady, to
have preserved, amid so many pains and labours, the

fidelity she owed to her God And what a consola
!
tion has it been to me, to have known some of the
words of charity which her spirit ejaculated with her

last sighs into the bosom of the Divine mercy !
But, sir, ought I not to have an immortal obliga

tion for the favour she did me, when in this extremity
of her mortal life she so often testified that she had
memory of me, as of him whom she knew to be alto
gether devoted to her in our Lord ? Never will this
remembrance depart from my soul ;

and not being able
to offer her the very faithful service I had sworn to her
virtue and devotion, I beg you, sir, to accept it, and
receive it with that which the honour of your goodness
had already demanded from my affections. Meantime,
on employ the greatness of your heart in
this occasion
moderating the greatness of the pain which the great

ness of your loss has given you. Let us acquiesce, sir, in
the decrees of the sovereign Providence, decrees which
are always just, always holy, always adorable, although
obscure and impenetrable to our understanding.
This beautiful and devout soul has died in a state
of conscience, in which, if God gives us the grace to
die, we shall be too blessed to die, at whatever time it
may Let us acknowledge this grace which God

be.
has shown her, and quietly have patience for the
little time we have to live here below without her,
since we have hope of living with her eternally in
heaven, in an indissoluble and invariable society.
Sir, I will pour out blessings ail my life on Madam,
your dear departed, and I will be invariably yours, &c.
LETTER XL
To A FRIEND.
Be consoles him on the death of his brother.
MY DEAR BROTHER (for I am in the place of the
one whom our good God has withdrawn to himself),
I am told you weep continually over this truly
that
very painful separation. This must not be either ;
you weep for him or for yourself; if for him, why

weep that our brother is in Paradise, where tears have
no more place ? but if for yourself, is there not
therein too much self-love ?
I speak with you quite frankly ; for one would think

that you love yourself more than his happiness, which
is incomparable. And do you wish that, for your
sake, your brother should not be with him who gives
all of us life, movement, and being, so long as we
acquiesce in his holy pleasure and Divine will?
But come and and often, and we will turn
see us,
tears into joy* recalling together that joy which our

* John xvi. 20.
good brother is enjoying, and which shall never more

be taken from him and in general, think often on it
;
and on him. Thus you will live joyful, as, with all
my heart, I wish you to be. I heartily recommend

myself to your prayers, and assure you that I am
yours, &c.
LETTER XII.

The Saint tells him what eternal life is, and that we must practice
the love of God to aspire to it.
Annecy, z^th August, 1613.
SIR, Amid the lassitudes and other inconveniences

which illness has left behind, I have prepared the
document which you pleased to desire of me, and I
have added to an abridgment, that it might be
it
more easy to carry and look at in your confessions.

The large one is, as it were, in reserve for you, to
have recourse to in your difficulties, and to find in it
the illustration of what might be obscure in the
abridgment. The whole is in good faith, without art

or colour ; matters want none, simplicity
for these
being their beauty, as in God who is the author of

them. You will find, sir, marks of my illness ; for if
I had written this little work in full health, I would,
without doubt, have taken stricter care to make it less
unworthy of your acceptance. Neither have I been

able to write it
myself; but those who have written
it have no notion of the use for which I meant it.
Blessed be God eternally for the goodness which he
shows towards your soiil, sir, inspiring it so power
fully to the resolution of consecrating the rest of your
mortal life to the service of the eternal life. Eternal
life, which is no other thing than the Divinity itself,
in so far as it will vivify our souls with his glory and
felicity; a life which is the only true life, and for

which alone we ought to live in this world, since all
life which has not its term in a living
eternity, is
rather death than life.
But, sir, if God has so lovingly inspired you to
aspire to the eternity of glory he has just so far forth
obliged you to receive humbly, and carry out carefully

his inspiration,under pain of being deprived of this
grace and glory. And the mere name of this loss
with terror a heart which has the least degree of
fills
feeling.
"Wherefore, in the simplicity of my soul, I conjure
you, sir, to be very attentive to preserve well what you

have, that you may not lose your crown. You are
undoubtedly called to a masculine, courageous, valiant,

invariable devotion to serve as a mirror to many in
favour of the truth of celestial love, in reparation of
past faults, if ever you have been a mirror of the

vanity of terrestial love.
See, I beg with what liberty I let my
you, sir,
spirit act towards yours, and how this name of father,

with which it has pleased you to honour me, carries
2O4 SV. Francis de Sales.
me away. For it has entered into my heart, and my

affections have set themselves to the laws of love
which the name father signifies, the greatest, the
liveliest,and the strongest of all loves. In harmony
with which I must beg you again, sir, to practise
diligently the exercises which I mark in chapters

the Second part of the Introduction,
x, xi, xii, xiii, of
for the morning and the evening, for the spiritual
retreat,and for aspirations to God. The goodness of

your soul, and the noble courage which God has given
you, will serve you greatly for this practice, which will
be so much the more easy to you as it is only neces
sary to employ in it moments which are stolen or
justly detached, on occasion, here and there, from

other affairs. The tenth part of an hour, or even less,,
will suffice for the morning, and the same for the
evening.
Oh you could gently deceive your dear soul, sir,
! if
and instead of undertaking to communicate every

month during a year, a year of twelve months, would,
when you have finished the twelfth, add the thirteenth,
then the fourteenth, then the fifteenth, and go on thus
continuing from month to month What a happiness !
to your heart, which, in proportion as it would receive

its Saviour oftener, would also convert itself more
perfectly into him ! And this, sir, could well be done

without noise, without injury to your affairs, and
without giving the world anything to say. Experience
has made me in
my twenty-five years of
realize
serving souls, the all-powerful virtue of this Divine

Sacrament, to strengthen hearts in good, exempt them

from evil, console them, and in a word deify them in
this world, if it be frequented with faith, purity, and
devotion.
But enough is said, sir; heavenly influences, your
good angel and your generosity, will supply what my
insufficiency does not permit me to propose to you.
Also, I pray our Lord to make you more and more

abound in his favours, and I am, without end, &c.
LETTER XIII.

On the fear of death and of the judgments of God.
SIR, I am truly in a great trouble to know how

much you have suffered in this severe and painful
illness, from which, as I hope, you will recover. I
should have had very much more pain if on every
hand I had not been assured that, thanks to God, you
have been in no sort of danger, and that you begin
to take up your strength, and are in the way of health
again.
But what gives me more apprehension now is that
besides the evil you suffer through corporal infirmities,
you are overcharged with a violent melancholy : for I

know how much this will retard the return of your
health, and indeed work in the opposite direction.
It is here, sir, that my heart is greatly oppressed ;
and according to the greatness of the lively and ex-

treme affection with which cherishes you (beyond

it
what can be said), it has an extraordinary compassion

for yours. If you please, sir, tell me, I beg you,
what reason have you for nourishing this sad humour
which is so prejudicial to you ? I fancy your mind
is still embarrassed with some fear of sudden
death,
and of the judgments of God. Alas what a dread !
fultorment is this My soul, which endured

! it for
six weeks, is very capable of compassionating those

who are afflicted with it.
But, sir, must speak a little with you, heart to

I
heart, and tell you, that whoever has a true desire to

serve our Lord and to avoid sin, ought not at all to
disquiet himself with the thought of death or of the

Divine judgments. Although both are to be feared,
still the fear should not be of that terrible and
terrify
ing nature which beats down and depresses the vigour

and strength of the soul, but should be a fear so
mixed with confidence in the goodness of God as by
this means to become gentle.
And it behoves not, sir, that we doubt whether
we may God when we find it difficult to keep
trust in
from when we imagine or fear that in occasions

sin, or
and temptations we may not be able to resist. Oh !
no, sir ;
for distrust of our strength is not a failure of
resolution, but a true acknowledgment of our misery.
It is a better state of mind to distrust our own power
of resistance to temptation than to look on ourselves
as sufficiently strong and
Only we must take
safe.
care that what we do not expect from our strength we

do expect from the grace of God. Hence many, with

great consolation, have promised themselves to do
wonders for God, who, when it came to the point,

have failed ; and many who have had great distrust
of their strength, and great fear of failing on trial,
have suddenly done wonders because this great sense
:
of their weakness has urged them to seek the aid and

succour of God, to watch, pray, and humble themselves,
so as not to enter into temptation.
I say that if we feel we should have neither strength
nor even any courage to resist temptation, if it pre
sented itself at once to us, provided that we still
would desire to resist it, and hope that if it came
God would help us, and if we ask his help, we must
by no means distress ourselves, since it is not neces
sary always to feel strength and courage. It suffices
that we hope and desire to have it in time and place ;
and it is not
necessary to feel in ourselves any
sign or any mark that we shall have this courage; it
is enough that we hope God will help us.
Samson, who was called the strong, never felt the

supernatural strength with which God helped him
except at the actual times ; and hence it is said that
when he met the lions or the enemies, the spirit of
God came upon him to kill them. So God, who does
nothing in vain, does not give us the strength or the
courage when there is no need to use them, but at
the necessary time nothing is wanting; hence we

must always hope that in all occurrences he will help
us, if we call upon him. And we should always use
the words of David :

Why are you sorrowful, my soul,
and why do you disquiet me ? Hope in the Lord ;*
and his prayer When my strength fails,
:
Lord, for-
sake me not.-\ Well, then, since you desire to be
entirely God
s, why do you fear from your weakness,
in which you are to put no sort of trust ? Do you

not hope in God ? Ah He who trusteth in him, shall
!
he ever be confounded ?% No, sir, he shall never be.

I beseech you, sir, to quell all the objections which
might arise in your mind. You need make no other

answer to them save that you desire to be faithful on
all occasions, and that you hope God will make you
so. There is no need to test your spirit, to see

whether it would or no ; these tests are illusive ;many
are valiant while they do not see the enemy, who are
not valiant in his presence ; and, on the contrary, many
fear before battle, to whom the actual danger gives
courage. We must not fear fear.
So much on this point, sir. Meanwhile, God

knows what I would do and suffer to see you entirely
delivered. I am your, &c.
LETTER XIV.
To THE PRESIDENT FRE MIOT.
The Saint engages him to prepare for death.
Sales, >]th October, 1604.
SIR, Charity is equally easy in giving and in receiv

ing good impressions of our neighbour; but if to its
* Ps. xli. Ps. Ixx. Ecclus. ii. ii.
f {
general inclination we add that of some particular

friendship, it becomes excessive in this facility. Mon-
seigneur de Bourges, and Madame de Chantal, your
worthy and dear children, have doubtless been too
favourable in the desire with which they have inspired
you to wish me well : for I see clearly, sir, by the

letter you have written me, that they have employed
colours in it, with which my wretched soul was never
painted. And you, sir, have not been less ready,

nor, I believe, less pleased, to give them an ample
and liberal belief. Charity, says the Apostle, believeth
all things, and rejoiceth with the truth.*
In this only were they unable to exceed in saying,
or you in believing, that I have devoted to them all
my affections. Thus these affections are yours, since

these children are yours, with all they have.
Allow me, sir, to let my pen follow my thoughts
in answering your letter. I have truly recognized in
M. de Bourges such an ingenuous goodness of mind

and of heart, that I have let myself confer with him
about the duties of our common vocation with so
much liberty, that, returning to myself, I did not
know which had used more simplicity, he in listening
to me, or I in speaking to him. And, sir, friendships
founded on Jesus Christ do not cease to be respectful
for being extremely simple and in good faith. We
are well cut out for the profit of one another ;
our
desires to serve God and his Church (for I confess
that I have some, and he cannot conceal that he is
* i Cor. xiii.
2 1 o St. Francis de Sales.
full of them) have been, it seems to me, sharpened

and animated by contact.
But, sir, you wish me to continue the conversation
on this subject by letters. I assure you that if I would
I could not hinder myself from doing so ; and, in fact,
I am sending him a letter of four sheets, and all of
that material. No, sir, I pay no attention to what I
am than he, nor to what he is more than I, and
less
in so many ways amor cequat amantes (love equalizes

:
lovers). I speak to him faithfully, and with all the

confidence my soul can have in his soul, which I
consider most frank, true, and vigorous in friendship.
And as for Madame de Chantal, I would rather say
nothing of the desire I have of her eternal good than

too little.
But has not the President of Finance, your good

brother, told you that he loves me also very much?
I will tell you, at least, that I consider myself quite
certain of it.
There are no persons in your house, down to the

little Celse-Benigne and your Aimee,^ who do not
know me, and love me.
See, sir, if I am not yours, and by how many links ;

I abuse your goodness in displaying to you my affec
tions so extravagantly. But, sir, whoever provokes
me to contention about love must be very firm, for I
spare him not.
So must I then obey you again in your command to

write down for you the principal points of your duty.
* Children of Madame de Chantal.
Letters to Men of the World. 2 1 1
I prefer to obey at peril of discretion, rather than to

be discreet at peril of obedience. It is in truth an
obedience a little bitter to me, but you will rightly

judge that it is the more worth. You exceed indeed
in humility when you make me this request why may ;
I not exceed in simplicity when I obey you ?

Sir, I know that you have passed a long and very
honourable and have always been very constant in
life,
the Holy Catholic Church ; but, after all, it has been

in the world, and in the management of affairs. It is
a strange thing, but experience and authors witness

it : a horse, however fine and strong he may be,
travelling on the paths and trail of the wolf, becomes
giddy and stumbles. It is not possible that living in
the world, though we only touch it with our feet,

we be not soiled with its dust. Thus says St. Leo.
Our ancient fathers, Abraham and the others,
usually offered to their guests the washing of their

feet ; I think, sir, that the first thing to be done is to
wash the affections of our souls in order to receive
the hospitality of our good God in his paradise.
It seems to me that it is always a great matter of
reproach to mortals to die without having thought of

this ; but doubly so to those whom God has favoured
with the blessing of old age.

Those who get ready before the alarm is given,
always put on their armour better than those who, on
the fright, run hither and thither for the cuirass, the
cuisses, and the helmet.
We must leisurely say good-by to the world, and
little by little withdraw our affections from creatures.

Trees which the wind tears up are not proper to
transplant, because they leave their roots in the earth ;

but he who would
carry trees into another soil must
skilfully disengage little by little all the roots one
after the other. And since from this miserable land
we are to be transplanted into that of the living, we
must withdraw and disengage our affections one after
the other from this world. I do not say that we
must roughly break all the ties we have formed (it
would, perhaps, require immense efforts for that), but

we must unsew and untie them.
Those who depart suddenly are excusable for not
saying good-by to their friends, and for starting with
a poor set out ; but not so those who have known the
probable time of their journey; they must keep
ready, not, indeed, as if to start before the time, but
to await it with more tranquillity.
For this end, you will have an
I think, sir, that
incredible consolation if you choose from each day an
hour, to think before God and your good angel, on

what is necessary to make a happy departure. What
order would your affairs be in if you knew it would be
soon ? I know these thoughts will not be new to you ;
but the way of making them must be new in the pre
sence of God, with a tranquil attention, and rather to
move the affections, than to enlighten the intellect.
Jerome has more than once applied to the

St.
wisdom of the old the history of Abisag, the Sunamitess.

Wisdom and the consideration of philosophy often
engage young people ;

it is more to recreate their
spirit than to excite good movements in their

affections ;
but they should not be with the old except
to give them the true warmth of devotion.
I have seen and enjoyed your fine library ; I
present you, for your spiritual lesson on this matter,

St. Ambrose, De bono mortis (of the advantage of
death), St. Bernard, De interiore domo (of the interior
house), and several scattered homilies of St. Chry-

sostom.
Your St. Bernard says that the soul should first go
and kiss the feet of the crucifix, to rectify its
affections, and to resolve, with firm resolution, to with

draw itself little by little from the world and its
vanities ; then kiss the hands, by that newness of

actions which follows the change of affections ; and
mouth, uniting self by an ardent love
finally kiss the
to the supreme goodness. This is the true progress of
a becoming departure.
It is said that Alexander the Great, sailing on the
wdde ocean, discovered, alone and first, Arabia Felix,
by the scent of its aromatic trees. He was at first

the only one to perceive it, because he alone was
seeking Those who are seeking after the eternal

it.
country, though sailing on the high sea of the affairs

of this world, have a certain presentiment of heaven,
which animates and encourages them marvellously.
But they must keep themselves before the wind, and
their prow turned in the proper direction.
We owe ourselves to God, to our country, to
2 1
parents, to friends. To God, firstly ; then to our

country, but first to our heavenly country ; secondly,
to our earthly. Then we owe ourselves to our near
ones, but no one is so near as our self, says our

Christian Seneca;* in fine, to friends; but are you
not the first of your friends ? He remarks that
St. Attend to yourself and to your
Paul says to Timothy :
then to your flock.

flock ;f first to yourself,
This is quite enough, sir, if not too much, for this
year, which flies and melts away before us, and in

these two next will make us see the vanity of
months
its existence like all the preceding, which exist no
more. You commanded me to write you every year
something of this sort. I am now straight for this
year, in which I beseech you to withdraw your

affections from the world as much as possible, and
in proportion as you withdraw them to transport
them to heaven.
And pardon beseech you, by your own.
me, I
humility, if my simplicity has been so extravagant in

its obedience as to write to you, at such length and
freedom on a simple demand, and with the full sense

that I have of your abundant wisdom, which should
keep me either in silence or in an exact moderation.

Here are waters, sir; if they come from the jawbone
of an ass, Samson will not refuse to drink of them. I
pray God
heap up your years with his benedictions^
to
and I am, with an entirely filial affection, sir, &c.
* Boethius.
f Acts xx. 28.
BOOK V.
. v
VARIOUS LETTERS.
LETTER I.
To A LADY.
Consolations and advice to a person who had a lawsuit.
igth September y 1610.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER, I know the multitude of your
troubles, and have recommended them to our Lord.
May it please him to bless them with the sacred

benediction with which he has blessed his dearest
servants, that they may be used for the hallowing of

his holy name in your soul.
And I must confess that though, in my opinion,

afflictions which regard our own persons, and the
afflictions which come from sins, are more trying,
still the afflictions of lawsuits cause me more pity,
because more dangerous for the soul. How many
people have we seen at peace in the thorns of sicknesses
and loss of friends, who lose interior peace in the

worry of exterior lawsuits ! And this is the reason,
or rather the cause without reason : we have difficulty
in believing that the evil of suits is employed by God

for our because we see that they are men who
trial,,
prosecute. We
do not dare to resist that all-good,
all-wise Providence, but we resist the men who afflict
us, and we quarrel with them, not without danger of

losing charity, the only loss we ought to fear in this
life.
But then, my dearest daughter, when shall we show

our fidelity to our Lord if not in these occasions?
When shall we restrain our heart, our judgment, and
our tongue, unless in these places, which are so rough

and so near to precipices ? For God s sake, my
dearest daughter, let not a time so favourable to your
spiritual progress pass without collecting plenty of

fruits of patience, humility, sweetness, and love of
abjection. Remember that our Lord said not a
single word against those who condemned him. He
did not judge them ; he was wrongly judged and
condemned, and he remained in peace, and died in

peace, and revenged himself only in praying for them.
And we, my dearest daughter, we judge our judges
and our opponents ; we arm ourselves with complaints
and reproaches.
Believe me, my dearest daughter, we must be strong
and constant in the love of our neighbours, and I say
this with all my heart, without regard either to your
opponents, or to what they are to me ; and I know
that nothing affects me in this matter save jealousy
for your perfection. But I must stop, and I did
not mean to say even so much. You will have God
Various Letters. 2 1
7
always, when you please. And is not this to be rich
enough ? I beg that his will may be your repose, and

his cross your glory. I am without end, your, &c.
LETTER II.
To A LADY.
Advice during an illness. We must obey the doctor.
2()th September, 1608.
I UNDERSTAND, my dear daughter, that you have an

illness, more troublesome than dangerous, and I know
that such illnesses are prone to spoil the obedience we
owe to the doctors ;
wherefore I tell you not to deprive
yourself of the rest, or the medicines, or the food, or

the recreations appointed you ; you can exercise a
kind of obedience and resignation in this which will
make you extremely agreeable to our Lord. In iine,
behold a quantity of crosses and mortifications which
you have neither chosen nor wished. God has given

you them with his holy hand ; receive them, kiss them,
love them. My God !
perfumed with the
they are all
dignity of the place whence they come.

Good-by, my dear daughter, I cherish you earnestly:
if I had leisure I would say more, for I am infinitely
pleased that you are faithful in these little and trouble

some occurrences, and that in little as in great things
you say always : Vive Jtsus /
Your, &c.
LETTER III.
To A LADY.
Sickness may purify the soul as well as the body.
26th April, 1615.
MADAM, I have heard of your sickness, and I do not
forget to pay the duty I owe so dear a daughter. If

God hears my prayers, you will rise with a great in
crease of health (sante], and above all of holiness
(saintete) ;
for often these accidents leave us with this
double advantage the fever has dispersed the evil

humours of the body, and purified the humours of
the heart, as being trials from the hand of Almighty
God.
I do not mean to call you a saint when I speak of
an increase of sanctity in you, certainly not, my dear
est daughter ; it is not for my heart to flatter yours :
but though you are not a saint your good desires are
saintly, I well know, and I wish them to become so
great as to be changed at last into perfect devotion,,

sweetness, patience, and humility.
Fill all your heart with courage, and your courage*
with confidence in God ; for he who has given you the

first attractions of his sacred love will never abandon
you. These I beg him with all my heart to give ; and

am, without end, your most humble servant, and your
husband s, whom, my dearest daughter, I have just
seen.
9
LETTER IV.
To A YOUNG LADY WHO WAS SICK.
Consolations.
Sth February , 1621.
THESE are great fires, my dearest child; fever, like a
fire, burns your body fire, like a fever, burns your

;
house ; but I hope that the fire of heavenly love so
occupies your heart, that in all occasions you say, The

Lord has given me my health and my house the Lord :
has taken them away : as it has pleased the Lord, be it
done, his holy name be blessed.*
Yes, you say, but impoverishes and inconveniences

it
us greatly. Quite true, my dearest daughter; but,

Blessed are the poor, for theirs kingdom of heaven.^ is the
You should have before your eyes the suffering and the
patience of Job, and regard that great prince on the
dunghill. He had patience, and God at last doubled
his temporal and increased a hundredfold his eternal
goods.
You are a child of Jesus Christ crucified; what
wonder then if
you ? / was silent,
share his cross
said David, and have not opened my mouth, because it is
you, O Lord, who did it.% Oh !
by how many diffi
cult ways do we go to holy eternity ! Throw all your
confidence and solicitude on God he will have care of :
and will hold out a favouring hand. Thus I pray

* Job 21.
i.
f Matt. v. 3. J Ps. xxxviii. 10.
Ps. liv. 23.
him, with all my heart ; and in proportion as he sends

you tribulations, may he, in his holy care, strengthen
you to bear them.
LETTER V.
To A LADY.
How to behave in great sufferings.
MY DEAR DAUGHTER, Let us leave meditation for

& short time only to spring better that we step
it is
back; and us practise well that holy resignation

let
and that pure love of our Lord, which is never entirely

practised save in troubles ; for to love God in sugar
little children would do as much ; but to love him in
wormwood, that is the test of our amorous fidelity.
To say : Vive Jesus, on the mountain of Thabor,
St. Peter, while still carnal, has quite courage enough ;
but to say : Vive Jesus, on Mount Calvary this be
longs only to the Mother, and to the beloved disciple

who was left to her as her son.
So then, my daughter, behold I commend you to
God, to obtain for you that sacred patience ; and I

cannot ask him anything for you except that he would
fashion your heart just at his will, in order to lodge
and reign therein eternally. May he doit with the
hammer, or with the chisel, or "with the brush; it is
for him to act at his pleasure. Is it not so, my dear
daughter : must he not do this ?
I know that your pains have been increased lately,

Various Letters. 221
aod in the same measure has my sorrow for them in
creased; although I praise and bless our Lord with

you for his good pleasure exercised in you, making
you share his holy cross, and crowning you with his
crown of thorns.
But, you will say, you can hardly keep your thoughts
on the pains our Lord has suffered for you, while your
own pangs oppress you. Well, my dear child, you are
not obliged to do so, provided that you quite simply
offerup your heart as frequently as you can to this
Saviour, and make the following acts i. Accept the :
if you saw him himself putting

pain from his hand, as
and pressing it on your head. 2. Offer yourself to
suffer more. 3. Beg him by the merit of his tor
ments, to accept these little distresses in union with

the pains he suffered on the cross. 4. Protest that
you wish not only to suffer, but to love and cherish
them as good and so sweet a hand.
sent from so
5. Invoke the martyrs and the many servants of God,

who enjoy heaven for having been afflicted in this
world.
There is no danger in desiring some remedy, indeed
you must carefully procure it ; for God, who has given
you the evil, is also author of its cure. You must then
apply yet with such resignation that, if his t)ivine

it,
majesty wishes the evil to conquer, you will acquiesce ;
and if he wishes the remedy to succeed, you will bless

him for it.
There is no harm, while performing your spiritual
exercises, in being seated. None at all, my daughter ;

nor would there be for difficulties much less than those
you suffer.
Howhappy are you, my daughter, if you continue

to keep yourself under the hand of God, humbly,
sweetly, and pliantly Ah I hope this headache

! !
will much
profit your heart ; your heart, which mine
cherishes with quite a special love. Now, my daugh
ter, it is that you may, more than ever, and by very
good signs, prove to our sweet Saviour that it is with

all your affection you have said and will say Vive :
Jesus ! Vive Jesus ! my child, and may he reign amid
your pains, since we can neither reign nor live save by

the pain of his death. I am in him entirely yours.
LETTER VI.
To A LADY.
In and the following, the Saint exhorts this lady,

these letters
mho was aged and infirm, and whom he calls his mother, to
lift up her desires towards heaven, to love crosses, to have
patience and gentleness with the persons who waited on her.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, What shall 1 say to you ?

Only a word, for want of time.
Continually practise your heart in interior and

exterior sweetness, and keep it in quiet, amid the
multiplicity of your affairs.
Keep yourself very earnestly from eager anxiety
(empressement}, the pest of true devotion, and continue
to keep your soul above, only regarding this world to
despise it, and time to aspire to eternity.

Often submit your will to the will of God, ready to
adore it as much when it sends you tribulations as in
the time of consolations.
God be ever in the midst of our hearts, my dearest
mother ! I am in him, without reserve, and with an
affection quite filial, your, &c.
LETTER VII.
To THE SAME.
Same Subject.
THOUGH thismessenger goes expressly, my dear mother,

he starts at a time when I am very much engaged.
That good lady has told me from you what you con
fided to her, and I praise God that he has given you
new affections with this new health ;

but you must
take good notice, my dearest daughter, my mother,
that body and spirit often go in contrary movements ;
as one grows weak, the other grows strong, and when
<one
grows strong, the other grows weak. But as it is
the spirit which must reign, when we see that it has

taken up its powers, we must so aid and establish it,
that it may remain always the stronger. Without
doubt, my dear mother, since sicknesses are crucibles,
our heart should come out from them more pure, and
amidst our infirmities we should become more strong.
Now, as to yourself, I fancy that in the future

your age and the delicate state of your constitution
will often make you languid and feeble, wherefore I
advise you to exercise yourself much in the will of
God, and in the abnegation of exterior satisfactions,

and in sweetness amid bitterness. This will be the
most excellent sacrifice you can make. Hold good,
and practise, not only a solid love, but a tender, gentle,
and sweet love towards those about you : on which I
say, by the experience I have, that infirmity, though
it does not take away charity, yet takes away sweet
ness towards our neighbour, if we are not greatly on

our guard.
My dearest mother, T wish you the height of per

fection, in the bowels of Jesus Christ.
I remain for ever your, &c.
LETTER VIII.
To THE SAME.
Same Subject.
ALAS !
my God ! dearest mother, how surprised was I
to learn from your letter, as it were all on a sudden,
the length and the danger of your malady ! For
believe, I pray, that my heart cherishes you filially.
God be praised that you seem to have almost got
free.
Truly, I see well that for the future you must grow
familiar with maladies and infirmities in this decline

of age in which you are. Lord Jesus what true !
happiness to a soul dedicated to God, to be well exer

cised by tribulation before departing this life !
My
dearest mother, how can one know and strong
sincere
love save amid thorns, crosses, languors, and above
all, when the languors are accompanied with longueurs
(i.e., are long).

In such way our dear Saviour has shown his un
measured love by the measure of his labours and pains.
My dearest mother, dearly make love to the Spouse
of your heart on the bed of pain ; for it is on this
bed that he has made love to your heart, even before
it came into the world, seeing it as yet only in his
Divine intention.
Ah ! this Saviour has counted
all your pains, all
your sufferings, and has bought, at the price of his
blood, all the patience and all the love necessary to
apply holily all your labours to his glory and your

salvation.Be content quietly to will to be all that
God wants you to be. Never will I fail to beseech
the Divine Majesty for the perfection of your heart,
which mine loves, cherishes, and tenderly honours.
Adieu, my dearest mother, and my dearest child,
again ;
let us be God s eternally, ourselves and our
affections and our little pains and our great ones, and
all that the Divine goodness wills to be ours ;
and I
am in him, my dearest mother, absolutely your true
son, &c.
LETTER IX.
To A LADY.
It is permitted to mourn the dead with moderation and resignation.
Long sicknesses are advantageous.
So, then, ray dearest daughter, I am just told that

your dear sister is gone, leaving us here below with
the affections of grief, which generally attack those
left behind in such separations. O God I take care, !
my dearest child, not to say weep not." No, for

"
it is very just and reasonable that you should weep a
little, but a my dear child, in testimony of the

little,
sincere love you bore her; in imitation of our dear

Master who certainly wept a little over his friend
Lazarus but we must not weep much, as those do,
;
who, contracting all their thoughts to the moments of

this miserable life, remember not that we also are
going towards eternity, where, if we live well in this

life, we shall rejoin our dear departed ones, never to
leave them again.

Wecannot hinder our poor heart from feeling the
condition of this life, and the loss of those who were
our delightful companions therein; but we must not,
for all this, betray the solemn profession we have made
to join our will inseparably to that of our God.

How happy is that dear sister, to have seen come,
little by little, and from afar, this hour of her depar
ture ! For thus she prepared herself to make it holily.
Let us adore this Divine Providence, and say :
Yes,
Varioiis Letters. 227
you are blessed, and all that pleases

good. you is
My
God ! how
sweetly should these little
dearest child,
events be received by our hearts our hearts, I say,
:
which henceforth ought to have more affection in

heaven than on earth ! I will pray to God for this
soul, and for the consolation of those who are his.
Do not put yourself in trouble about your prayer,
nor about this variety of desires which you have, for
the variety of affections is not bad, nor the desire of
many distinct virtues.
As to your resolutions, you may particularize them

thus : I will practise more faithfully the virtues
which are necessary to me ; as, for example, on such
an occasion which may present itself, I am prepared
to practise such a virtue ; and so forth.
It is not necessary to use words, even interior ones ;
it suffices to excite the heart, or to repose it on our

Lord ; it suffices to regard amorously this Divine lover
of our souls, for between lovers, eyes speak better
than tongue.
I write without leisure, and in presence of the
bearer. Good night, then, my dearest child ; pour
the death of our sister into that of our Saviour.
Regard this death of our sister only in that of
our Redeemer. May his will be for ever glorified !
Amen.
Your very humble servant, &c.
LETTER X.
On want of reverence in church.
zytli December, 1615.
THE temptation to laugh in Church and at Office is
bad, though it may seem only silly and childish ; for

after charity the virtue of religion is the most
excellent. As charity renders to our Lord according
to our power, the love which
due to him, so religion
is
renders him due honour and reverence ; and hence

the faults which are committed against it are very
bad. It is true that in yours I do not see great sin,
as it is against the will ;

but yet you must not leave
itwithout some penance. When the enemy cannot
make our souls Marion, he makes our hearts Robin;*
and it does not matter to him, provided that time is
lost,the spirit dissipated, and somebody scandalized.
But, look you, dear child of my heart, do not frighten

these good daughters ; for from one extreme they
might pass to the other, which must not be.

I do not yet tell you my thoughts on the subject
you write me about, for to-day is in Christmas-

to
tide, when
the angels come to seek Paradise on earth.
Certainly it has descended into the little cavern of
Bethlehem, in which, my dear child, I shall find you
in these days with all our dear sisters, who doubtless
*
Adapting a proverbial expression (Robin a troitve Marion)
a rogue hath found his like.
will make their abode, like wise bees, with their little
King. Those who humble themselves lowest will

see him nearest; for he is lost in the
very depths
of humility, of courageous, confident a*nd constant
humility. May this sweet Infant be for ever, my
dearest daughter, the life of your heart, which I

cherish incomparably, and which is always present to
mine, so long as it pleases God that my love should
strengthen itself by want of exterior manifestation.
LETTER XI.
To A LADY.
The way not to offend God in the pleasure of the chase.
Annecy, 2oth June, 1610.

You see, my dearest daughter, what confidence I have
in you. have not written to you since your depar
I
ture, because really I have not been able to do
so; and I make you no excuse, because you are
truly, and more and more, my more than most dear

daughter.
God be your journey back has
praised for that
been made nicely and quietly, and that you have
found your husband happy. Truly, that heavenly
Providence of the heavenly Father treats with sweet
ness the children of his heart, and from time to time
mingles favourable sweetnesses with the fruitful bitter

nesses which merit them.
M. Michel asked me what I wrote to M. Legrand

about hunting ; but, my dearest daughter, it was only
a little thing in which I told him there were three
laws to observe in order to avoid offending God in
the chase.
i. Not to do damage to our neighbour, it being
not reasonable that any one should take his recreation
at the expense of another, and specially in treading
down the poor peasant, who is already martyred

enough otherwise, and whose labour and condition
we should not despise.
2. Not to employ in hunting the time of the chief
feasts, in which we ought to serve God and above ail,
:
to take care not to omit Mass on the days commanded.
2. Not to spend too much on it, for all recreations,

become blameworthy when extravagant.
I do not remember the rest. In general, discretion
must reign everywhere.
So then, my dearest daughter, may God be ever
in the midst of your heart, to unite all your affections
to his holy love. Amen.
So has he, I assure you, put in my heart a most
unchanging and entire affection for yours, which I
cherish unceasingly, praying God to crown it with
blessing. Amen, my very dear, and always more

very dear, daughter.
LETTER XII. XM
Thoughts on the renewal of the year.

2&th December, 1605.
I END this year, my dear child, with a desire not only
great but ardent to advance for the future in that holy

love, which I cease not to love though I have not yet
tasted it. Thank God, my child, our heart (notice, I
say our) is made for that. Ah why are we not all!
full of it ? You cannot imagine the sense which I

have at present of this desire. O God ! For what
shall we
through the next year save to love this
live
sovereign goodness better Oh that it may take us

! !
from this world, or that it may take this world from

us ; may it make us die, or else make us love his
death better than our poor life !
My God how I wish you, my child, in Bethlehem

!
now with your holy Abbess (the blessed Virgin) !
Ah how well it becomes her

! to bring forth, and to
nurse this little Infant ! But chiefly I love her charity,
which him be seen and held and kissed by any
lets
body. Ask her for him, she will give him and when ;
you have him, steal secretly from him one of those

little droplets which are in his eyes. They are not
yet the rain, but only the first dew-drops of his tears.
It is a marvel how good this liquor is for every sort
of disease of the heart.

Do not load yourself with austerities this Lent,
without your confessor s leave, and he, by my advice,

willnot load you with them. May God deign to
crown your year, beginning with roses, which his
blood has coloured !
Adieu, my dear child ;
I am he
who has dedicated to you his entire service.
LETTER XIII.
To THE SAME.
Wishes of blessing for the New Year.
2$th December, 1606.

BEHOLD this year, my dearest child, about to lose
itself in the gulf in which all the preceding are swal- .
lowed up. Oh ! how desirable is

eternity, at the
price of these miserable and perishable vicissitudes !
Let time flow, with which we ourselves flow away

little by little, to be transformed into the
glory of the
children of God.
This is the last time I write to you this year, my
dear child. Ah ! what blessings I wish you, and with
what ardour ! cannot be expressed.
It Alas ! when
I think how I have used God s time, I am in great
fear lest he should not will to give me his eternity,
since he does not will to give it save to those who use

his time well.
I am three months without letters from you ; but I

know God with you, that is enough for me ; it is
is
he that I wish you only. I write without leisure, for

my room is full of people who draw me away ; but
my heart is solitary all the time, and full of desire to

live for ever entirely for thisholy love, which is the
only object of this same heart of mine.
At any rate, during these sacred days a thousand
desires have seized me to give you the glorious satis
faction you so much desire from my soul, as from
your very own, by advancing solicitously towards holy
perfection. To this you also aspire, and by this you
respire, for the good of my heart, which in return
wishes you for ever all the highest union with God
which can be had here below. This is the only wish
of him whom God has given you.
LETTER XIV.
To A LADY.
Wishes for the New Year.
2gth December, 1606.
WELL, now, what matters it to your dear soul, my

dearest daughter, whether I write to you in one style
or in another, since it nothing from me except
asks
the assurance of my worthless health, about which I
do not deserve that auy one should have the least
thought in the world ? But I will tell you that it is
good, thanks to our Lord, and that I hope it will serve
me well these holy feasts for preaching, as it has done

in the Advent, and that so we shall complete this year
to begin a new one.
O God ! dear child, these years pass away, and

my
glide off imperceptibly one after the other; and in
winding off their length, they wind off our mortal life,
and in ending they end our days. Oh how infinitely !
more to be loved is eternity, since its duration is
endless, and its days without nights, and its satisfac
tions unchanging.
May you, daughter, possess this ad

my dearest
mirable good of holy eternity in as high degree as I
wish it you ! What happiness for my soul, if God,
having mercy on it, made it see this consolation ! But
while waiting to see our Lord glorified, let us see him
with the eyes of faith all humbled in his little crib.
May God be ever in the midst of your heart, my

dearest daughter. Amen.
Vive Jesus
LETTER XV.
Same Subject.
O JESUS! fill our heart with the sacred balm of

your Divine name, that the sweetness of its perfume
may spread into all our senses, and over all our acts.
But to make this heart capable of receiving so sweet a
liquor, circumcise it, and cut off from it all that can
be disagreeable to your holy eyes. O glorious name,
which the mouth of the heavenly Father has pro-
nounced eternally, be for ever the superscription of our

souls, that, as you are Saviour, our soul may be
eternally saved O holy Virgin, who, first of all the
!
human race, have pronounced this name of salvation,

inspire us how to pronounce it fittingly, that all may
breathe in us the salvation which your womb has
brought us !
My dearest child, it was fitting to write the first
letter of this year to our Lord and our Lady ; and

here is the second,
by which, O my daughter, I wish
you a good year, and I dedicate our heart to the
Divine goodness. O that we may so live this year
that it
may serve as foundation for the eternal year !
At least this morning I have on waking cried out unto

your ears : Vive Jesus ! and have longed to spread
this sacred oil over all the face of the earth.
When a balm is well closed in a flask, no one can

tell what liquor it is save him who has put it there ;
but when it is
opened, and some drops have been
poured out, every one says It is balm. My dear
:
child, our dear little Jesus was all filled with the balm
of salvation ; but this was not known till with that
knife, lovingly cruel, his Divine flesh was opened ;
and
then it was known that he is all balm and oil poured out,
and the balm of salvation. Wherefore first St. Joseph
and our Lady, then all the neighbours begin to cry
Jesus, which signifies Saviour.
May it please this Divine darling (poupon*) to steep

our souls in his blood, and to perfume them with his
* A little babe.
pretty rosy
holy name, that the roses of good desires which we

have conceived may be all empurpled with its colour,
and all odorous with its unction !
My God ! how aptly fits in this circumcision, my

child, with our little and our great abnegations ! for
these are properly a spiritual circumcision. Your

very affectionate, &c.
LETTER XVI.
To THE SAME.
Same Subject.
You will be the first, my dearest and best mother,

who will receive a letter from me this new year.
Certainly reason requires that after having done hom
age to the heavenly Father and Mother, I should do
it also to the only mother whom Their Majesties have
given me for this life. Good and most holy year to

my dearest mother from her son, who wishes her the
abundance of the grace of the Eternal Father, of the
peace of the circumcised Son, and of the consolation
of the Holy Spirit, dedicating with this same heart of
my dearest mother mine also to the glory of the Divine
goodness, and consecrating to it all the moments of

this new year, to make an entire circumcision of this
same heart, and to apply it to receive purely and per
fectly the sacred love, which the heavenly and divine
name of Jesus announces to us written in his blood,
on the holy humanity of the Saviour.
I cannot promise myself to see you before Wednes

day, unless with the continued sight with which my
heart regards and guards yours dearly in the bottom
of my heart. Ah my God dear mother, how I
! !
desire Divine love for this heart, what blessings T wish

it ! Let us kiss a thousand times the feet of this
Saviour, and say to him :
My heart, O my God, calls
for you ; my face longs for you : Ah !

Lord, my face
seeks for yours ;* that is, my dearest mother, let us
keep our eyes on Jesus Christ, to regard him, our
mouth to praise him ; and in fine, let all our face
aspire only to become like that of our dear Jesus.
It is Jesus, for whom we must humble ourselves,
commence work, and suffer ; becoming, as St. Paul
says, sheep for the slaughter, when it shall please his
Divine Majesty to make us dishonoured for his honour

and glory.
So, then, a good and most holy year to my dearest
mother, perfumed with the name of Jesus, all

all
steeped in his sacred blood. May no day of this year,

and no day of many years which I pray God to grant
to my dearest mother, pass without being watered by
the virtue of this blood, and receiving the sweetness
of this name which spreads abroad the perfection of
all sweetness. Amen.
So may this sacred name
with its agreeable fill
sound the congregation of our sisters, and the drops

all
of blood of the little Saviour become a river of sanctity

to rejoice and fertilize the hearts of this dear flock,
* Ps. xxvi. 1 8.
and above all, that of my dearest mother, which mine

loves as myself. Blessed be Jesus ! Blessed be his
blood ! Blessed be Mary ! Blessed be her womb,
from which Jesus took this blood.
LETTER XVII.
To A SUPERIOR OF THE VISITATION.
TJie Saint tells her liow to distinguish true revelations from
false.
Annccy.
As I could not sooner, my dearest child, I will now
answer the two chief points about which you wrote
to me.
In all that I have seen of this daughter, I find
nothing to prevent my thinking her a very good girl,

and therefore she must be loved and cherished with
very good heart but as to her revelations and pre
;
dictions, they are entirely suspicious to me, as useless,
vain, and unworthy of consideration. On the one
side, they are so frequent that the frequency and

multitude of them alone makes them merit suspi
cion ; on the other hand, they manifest certain things
which God declares very rarely, such as the assur
ance of eternal salvation, confirmation in grace, the
degree of sanctity of several persons, and a hundred

other similar things which are useful for nothing.
St. Gregory, having been asked by a lady of honour to
the empress, called Gregoria, about her future state,

answered her :
"
Your benignity, my child, asks me for
a thing equally hard and useless." And to say that

in the future it will be known why these revelations are
made, is a pretext which is used to avoid the reproach
of the uselessness of such things.

Further : when God wishes to use the revelations he
gives to creatures, he generally sends before them
either true miracles, or a very special sanctity in those
who receive them. So the evil spirit, when he wants
notably to deceive any one, before making him give
out false revelations, makes him utter false predictions,
and makes him observe a method of life falsely holy.
There was in the time of the blessed Sister Mary
of the Incarnation a young person of low position,
who was possessed by the most extraordinary delusion
that can be imagined. The enemy, under the form of
our Lord, said for a long time his office with her, with
a chant so melodious that it kept her in a state of per
petual ravishment. He gave her communion very often

under the appearance of a silvery and resplendent
cloud, within which he made a false host come into
her mouth ;
he made her live without eating anything.
When she took alms to the gate, he multiplied the
bread in her apron, so that if she only carried bread
for three poor, and there were had enough
thirty, she
to give to very abundantly, and most delicious
all
bread, some of which even her confessor, who was of a

very reformed order, sent about among his spiritual
friends from devotion.
This girl had so many revelations that at last it made
240 vSV. Francis de Sales.
her suspected by people of sense. She had one ex .
tremely dangerous, by which it was thought good to

try the sanctity of this poor creature, and for this she
was placed with the blessed Sister Mary of the Incar
nation, then in the married state.
still She was
chambermaid, and being treated a little severely by
Mons. Acarie, now deceased, it was found that this
girl was no saint at all, and that her gentleness and
exterior humility were nothing but an external gilding
which the enemy used to get the pills of his illusion
swallowed, and at last it was found that there was
nothing in the world in her but a heap of false visions.
As for her, it became well known that not only did she
not maliciously deceive the world, but that she was

first deceived, there being on her side no other sort of
fault except the complacency she took in imagining

she was a saint, and contributing a few pretences and
deceitfulnesses to keep up the reputation of her vain
sanctity. And all this was told me by the blessed
Sister Mary of the Incarnation.
Consider, I pray you, my dearest child, the shrewd
ness and cunning of the enemy, and how deserving of
suspicion these extraordinary things are. Still, as I
have you must not treat this poor girl amiss,

said,
who, I think, has no other fault in this affair than

that of the vain amusement she takes in her vain
imaginations.
Only,my dearest sistc r, you must show a total neg
lect and a perfect contempt of all her revelations and
visions, just as if she were relating the dreams or
reveries of a high fever ;

not occupying yourself in
refuting or combating them ; but, on the contrary,

when she wishes to speak of them, you must change
the subject. You must talk to her of the solid virtues
and perfections of the religious state, and particularly
of the simplicity of faith, in which the saints have
walked, without any visions or private revelations,

content to believe firmly in the revelation of the Holy
Scripture, and of the Apostolic and Church doctrine ;
very often impress on her the sentence of our Lord,

that there will be many workers of miracles and many
prophets to whom
he will say at the end of the world :
Depart from me, workers of iniquity ; I know you not*

But commonly you must say to this girl Let us talk :
of our lesson which our Lord has ordered us to learn,
saying : Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of

heart.-\ And, in fine, you must show an absolute con
tempt for all these revelations.
And good father who seems to approve

as to the
them, you must not rebuff him or dispute with him,

but simply say that to test all this affair of revelations
itseems good to despise them and take no account of
them. This then is my opinion for the present on this
point.
I had forgotten to say that the visions and revela
tions of this girl must not be found strange, because
the facility and tenderness of the imagination of young
women makes them much more susceptible of these
illusions than men on which
; account their sex is more
* Mat. vii. 22, 23. f Mat. xi. 29,
given to faith in dreams, the fear ahout sins, and cre

dulity in superstitions. They often fancy they see
what they see not, hear what they hear not, and feel
what they feel not.

You must then treat by contempt of these
this spirit
fancies, but a gentle and serious contempt, and not

a mocking or disdainful one. It may well be that
the evil spirit has some part in these deceits, but I
think rather that he lets the imagination act, without
co-operating with
it by simple suggestions. The
similitude brought forward to explain the mystery of
the Holy Trinity is very pretty, but is not beyond the
capacity of a soul which takes complacency in its own

imaginations.
LETTER XVIII.
Considerations on the Feast of the Conception of the Holy Virgin,

and on a Cope which he had received.
O TRULY this cope is lovely in the extreme, which the

dearest mother that lives sends to her dearest father :
for it is all name

of Jesus and of Mary, and
in the
represents perfectly the heaven of the blessed where

Jesus is the sun, and Mary the moon, a luminary pre
sent to all the stars of this heavenly abode ; for Jesus
there is all to all ; and there is no star in this heavenly

day in which he is not reflected as in a mirror ; and

the double phi *
s signify, as capital letters, philotheyf
and philanthropy, love of God and love of our neigh
bour; and the ss closed, with their arrows, which
ascend on one side and descend on the other, show the
exercise of these Divine loves, one of which ascends to
God, and makes philotheists the other descends to

;
our neighbour, and makes philanthropists, both being

the one good of charity, which makes us true servants
of the Divine Majesty. Over all flows out the Holy
Spirit, and makes appear a great variety of flowers
and all sorts of virtues.
Blessed be for ever the dear hand of the mother
who was able so skilfully to make so beautiful a work.
May her hand be fit to do strong things, and equally to
manage the spindle. % May it be adorned with the

ring of fidelity, and her arm with the bracelet of
charity; may the right hand of the Saviour be for
ever joined to it, and may it
appear the day of
full in
judgment ; may the heart which animates it be ever

clothed with Jesus, with Mary, with philothey, phi
lanthropy, sanctity; with stars, with flying darts of

heavenly love, and with all sorts of flowering virtues ;
may the Holy Spirit shine on it always. Good-night,

my very dear daughter, my mother.
But I must say this further. It is written of
the strong woman that all her people have double
* Letters of the Greek
alphabet which some ornament on the
cope resembled.
f To coin a word. J Prov. xxxi.
B 2
244- $ Francis de Sales.
vestmmts :* one, I think, for the feasts, the other for
working days ;
and here I am clothed with an admir
able cope for feasts ; a lovely cope, and of Easter
colour, and also with a rohe for every day, of the
colour of the robe which our Saviour wore on the
Mount of the Passion. May God our Lord clothe you
with his passion and with his glory !
I will do for your daughter of St. Catherine all I
can; and believe me I will do it with all the more

sweetness because you wish it. For I have an ex
treme sweetness in doing your will. Alas ! what a
heart should we have to do that of the most loved
Creator, since we have so much for the creature loved
and united to us in him !
Yes, my dearest mother, put your soul quite into

the hands of our dear Mistress, who will be conceived
this night in the commemoration we make of her, and
I will ask it from her ; for, my dear mother, I am quite
resolved to have no heart but what she gives me, this
sweet Mother of hearts, this Mother of holy love, this
Mother of the heart of hearts. Ah God, what a !
great desire have I to keep my eyes on this beautiful
star of our voyage Good-by, my

! dearest mother,
be all joyous on the occasion of this coming feast.
May Jesus be our heart. Amen.

* Prov. xxxi.
BOOK VI.
VARIOUS LETTERS.
LETTER I.
Oti the Feast of our Lord s Nativity.
MAY the great and little infant of Bethlehem be for

ever the darling and the love of our hearts, my dearest
mother, my child ! Ah ! how
lovely he is, this dear
baby. I seem to see Solomon on his grand throne of
ivory, gilded and worked, which had no equal in the

kingdoms, as the Scripture says
; and this King had
no equal in glory and in magnificence. But I love a
hundred times better to see this dear little babeling
(enfangon) in the crib, than to see all kings on their

thrones.
But if I see him on the knees of his sacred mother,
or in her arms, having his tiny mouth (bouchette) like
a little rosebud, attached to the lilies of her holy
breasts, O God him more magnificent on

! I find
this throne, not only than Solomon on his of ivory,
but more even than ever this eternal Son of the
246 SV. Francis de Sales.
Father was in heaven, for if indeed heaven is more

glorious in visible being, the holy Virgin has more of
and perfections and a drop of milk
invisible virtues ;
which flows virginally from her sacred breasts is

worth more than all the affluences of the heavens.
May the great St. Joseph impart to us of his con

solation, the sovereign mother of her love, and the
child deign to pour his merits into our hearts for
ever.
I pray you, repose as quietly as you can near this
little child : he will not cease loving your well-beloved

heart, as it is, without tenderness and without feeling.
See you not that he accepts the breath of this great

ox, and of this ass, which have no sentiment nor any
movement of love whatever ; how will he not receive
the inspirations of our poor heart, which, though not
tenderly at present, still

solidly and firmly, sacrifices
itself at his feet, to be for ever the faithful servant of
his heart, and of that of his holy Mother, and of the
great governor of the little King.
My dearest mother, this is the truth, I have quite
a special light which makes me see that the unity of
our hearts a work of this grand uniter, and hence I
is
desire for the future not only to love, but to cherish
and honour this unity as sacred.
May the joy and consolation of the Son and the

Mother, be for ever the gladness of our soul I come !
from preaching all clothed by the hand of my loving

and amiable mother, and I have been very delighted.
Ah my dearest mother has covered me all over with.
!
Jesus, Maria* May this sweet Jesus and this sacred
Mary long preserve her to me, and all the nuptial

vestment of our heart Amen. Your, &c.
!
LETTER II.
To THE SAME.
On Temptations and Drynesses. Means to repel them,
and guard ourselves against them.
2ist November, 1604.
MADAM, MY DEAREST SISTER, May our glorious and

holiest mistressand queen, the Virgin Mary, the feast
of whose Presentation we celebrate to-day, present our
hearts to her Son, and give us his. Your messenger
reached me most troublesome and hardest place
at the
I can come across during the navigation which I make

on the tempestuous sea of this diocese. It is incre
dible what consolation your letters brought me. I
am only in pain as to whether I shall be able to draw

from the press of my affairs the leisure required to
answer you as soon as I desire, and as well as you
expect. I will say in haste what I can, and if any
thing remains after that, I will write it in a very short

time by an acquaintance, who goes to Dijon and
returns.
I thank you for the trouble you have taken to
detail me the history of your gate of St. Claude, and
I pray this blessed saint, witness of the sincerity and

* made
Keferring to some vestments she had for him.
you in our Lord

integrity of heart with which I cherish
and common Master, from his goodness
to impetrate
the assistance of the Holy Spirit which is necessary to

enter properly into the repose of the tabernacle of the
Church. It is sufficiently said once for all :
yes, God
has given me to you, I say singularly, entirely, irre
vocably.
I come to your cross, and know not whether God
has quite opened my eyes to see all its four ends.
I extremely desire and beg of him, that I may be
able to say to you something thoroughly appropriate.
you tell me, of the facul
It is a certain powerlessness,
ties or parts of your understanding, which hinders it
from taking contentment in the consideration of what

isgood and what grieves you the most is, when you
:
wish to form a resolution, you feel not the accustomed

but encounter a certain barrier, which brings
solidity,
you up short, and thence come the torments of temp

tations against the faith. It is properly described,
my dear daughter ; you express yourself well ; I am

not sure whether I understand you properly.
You add that yet the will by the grace of God
intends nothing but simplicity and stability in the
Church, and that you would willingly die for the

faith thereof. Oh, God be blessed, my dear child!
This sickness is not unto death, but that God may be
glorified
in it*
You have two peoples in the womb of your spirit, as
was said to Rebecca the one fights against the other,
:
* John xi. 4.
but at last the younger will supplant the elder* Self-
love never dies till we die ;

it has a thousand ways of
entrenching our soul, we cannot dislodge it ;

itself in
it is the eldest-born of our soul, for it is natural, or,

at least, co-natural : it has a legion of carabineers
with it, of movements, actions, passions it is adroit, ;
and knows a thousand subtle turns. On the other

side,you have the love of God, which is conceived
afterwards, and is second-born it also has its move ;
ments, inclinations, passions, actions. These two

children in one womb fight together like Esau and
Jacob ; whence Rebecca cried out : Was it not better
to die than to conceive with such pains ? From these
convulsions follows a certain disgust, which causes
you to relish not the best meats. But what imports

it whether relish or relish not, since you cease
you
not to eat well ?
If I had to lose one of my senses, I would choose

that should be the taste, as less necessary even than
it
smell, seems to me.

it Believe me, it is only taste
which fails you, not sight you see, but without :
satisfaction :
you chew bread, but as if it were tow,
without taste or seems to you that your
relish. It
resolutions are without force, because they are not
gay nor joyous ; but you mistake, for the Apostle

St.Paul very often had only that kind.
You do not feel yourself firm, constant, or very
resolute. There
something in me, thus say you,
is
which has never been satisfied ; but I cannot say

*
Gen. xxv. 22, 23.
what it is. I should very much like to know it, my

dear child, to tell it
you ; but I hope that some day,
hearing you at leisure, I shall learn it. Meanwhile,,
might it not be a multitude of desires, which obstructs
your spirit, I have been ill with that complaint.

The bird fastened to the perch only knows itself tobe
fastened, and feels the shocks of its detention and
restraint, when it wants to fly; and in the same way r

before it has its wings, it knows its powerlessness only
by the trial of flight.
For a remedy, then, my dear child, since you have
not yet your wings for flight, and your own power
lessness puts a bar to your efforts, do not flutter, da
not make eager attempts to fly : have patience till
you get your wings, like the doves. I greatly fear
that you have a little too much ardour for the quarry,
that you are over-eager, and multiply desires a little
too thickly. You see the beauty of illuminations, the
sweetness of resolutions, you seem almost to grasp
them, and the vicinity of good excites your appetite
for it, and this appetite agitates you, and makes you
dart forth, but for nothing ;

for the master keeps you:
fastened on the perch, or perhaps you have not your
wings as yet ; and meanwhile you grow thin by this,

constant movement of the heart, and continually lessen
your strength. You must make trials, but moderate
ones, and without agitating yourself, and without
putting yourself into heat.
Examine well your practice in this matter ; perhaps
you will see that you let your spirit cling too much to
Various Letters. 2 5 1
the desire of this sovereign sweetness which the sense

of firmness, constancy, and resolution brings to the
soul. You have firmness, for what else is firmness but
to will rather to die than sin, or quit the faith ? But
you have not the sense of it ;
for if you had you would
have a thousand joys from it. So, then, check yourself,,
do not excite yourself; you will be all the better, and
your wings will thus strengthen themselves more easily.

This eagerness then is a fault in you, and there is a
something, I do not know what, which is not satisfied ;

for it is a fault against resignation. You resign
yourself well, but it is with a but ; for you would
much like to have this or that, and you agitate your
self to get it. A simple desire contrary to is not
resignation, but a panting of heart, a fluttering of

wings, an agitation of will, a multiplying of dartings
out, undoubtedly, is a fault against resignation.
this,
Courage, my dear sister, since our will is God s,

doubtless we ourselves are his. You have all that is
needed, but have no sense of it ; there is no great
loss in that.
Do you know what you must do ? You must be

pleased not to
fly, you have not yet your wings.
since
You make me think of Moses. That holy man,
having arrived on Mount Pisgah, saw all the land of
promise before his eyes, the land which for forty
years he had aspired after and hoped for, amid the
murmurs and seditions of his people, and amid the
rigours of the deserts ; he saw it and entered it not,

but died while looking at it. He had your glass of
water at his lips, and could not drink. O God, what

sighs this soul must have fetched ! He died there
more happy than many did in the land of promise,
since God did him the honour of burying him him
self. And so, if you had to die without drinking of
the water of the Samaritan woman, what would it
matter, so that your soul was received to drink
eternally in the source and fountain of life ? Do

not excite yourself to vain desires, and do not
even excite yourself about not exciting yourself; go
quietly on your way, for it is

good.
Know, my dear that I write these things to
sister,
you with much distraction, and that if you find them

confused it is no wonder, for I am so myself; but,
thank God, without disquiet. Do you want to know
whether I speak the truth, when I say that there is
in you a defect of entire resignation ? You are quite
willing to have a cross, but you want to have the
choice ;
you would have it common, corporal, and of
such or such sort. How is this, my well-beloved
daughter ? Ah no, I desire that your cross and

!
mine be entirely crosses of Jesus Christ; and as to

the imposition of them, and the choice, the good God
knows what he does, and why he does it for our :
good, no doubt. Our Lord gave to David the choice

of the rod with which he would be scourged, and,
blessed be God but;
I think I would not have chosen :
I would have let his Divine Majesty do all. The more

a cross is from God the more we should love it.
Well now, my sister, my daughter, my soul (and

much you well know), tell me, is not

this is not too
God man ? is not man a true nothing in

better than
comparison with God ? And yet here is a man,, or

rather the merest nothing of all nothings, the flower
of all misery, who loves no less the confidence you
have in him, though you may have lost the sense and
taste of it, than if you had all the sentiments in the
world ; will not God hold your good will agreeable,

and
though without any feeling ? / am, said David, like
a bottle in the frost* which is of no use. As many
drynesses, as much barrenness as you like, provided
we love God.
But, after all, you are not yet in the land in which
there is no light, for you have the light sometimes,
and God visits you. Is he not good, think you ? It
seems to me this vicissitude makes you very agreeable
to God. Still, I approve your showing to our sweet
Saviour, but lovingly and without excitement, your

affliction ; and, as you say, he at least lets your soul
find him ; for lie is pleased that we should tell him
the pain he gives us, and lament to him, provided it
be amorously and humbly, and to himself, as little

children do, when their mother has whipped them.
Meanwhile, there must be a little suffering, with sweet

ness. I do not think there is any harm in saying to
our Lord : Come into our souls. This Lord knows
whether I have ever been to communion without you
.since my departure from your town.
No, that has no appearance of evil ; God wishes

* Ps. cxviii. 83.
254 $ Francis de Sales.
that I should serve him in suffering dry ness, anguish,

temptations, like Job, like St. Paul, and not in
preaching.
Serve God as he wishes, you will see that one day
he will do all you wish, and more than you know how
to wish.
The books which you read for half an hour are
Granada, Gerson, the Life of Christ, turned into
French from the Latin of Ludolph the Carthusian,
Mother (St.) Teresa; the Treatise on Affliction*
which I have mentioned in a former letter.
Ah ! shall we not one day be all together in heaven

to bless God eternally ? I hope so and rejoice in it.
The promise which you made to our Lord never to

refuse anything which might be asked you in his
name, could not oblige you except to love him pro

perly ;mean, that you might get to understand it in
I
such a fashion that the practice of it would be vicious,

as you might give more than you ought and indis
creetly. This then is understood with the condition

of observing true discretion ; and in this case, it is no
more than to say that you will love God entirely, and
will accommodate yourself to live, speak, act and give
according to his pleasure.
I keep the books of psalms, and thank you for the
music, of which I koow nothing at all, though Hove it

extremely when applied to the praise of our Lord.
Truly, when you want me to hurry, and to find
leisure without leisure to write to you, send me this
* F. Kibadaneira, S.J.
By
good man N .
for, to tell the truth, he has urged
me so extremely that more could not be, and has not
been willing to give me
time, not even a day ; and I
tell you fairly I should not like to be judge in a cause
in which he was counsel.

I cannot drop the word Madam : for I do not wish
to think myself more affectionate than St. John the
Evangelist, who still, in the sacred epistle which he
wrote to the lady Electa, called her madam, nor wiser
than St. Jerome, who calls his devout Eustochium,
madam. I desire, however, to forbid you to call me
Monseigneur, for though it is the custom on this side
to call Bishops so, it is not the custom on your side,
and I love simplicity.
The Mass Lady you may vow for every week,

of our
as you desire but I want it to be only for a year, at
;
the end of which you will vow again, if so be and ;
begin on the Conception of our Lady, the day of my

consecration, on which I made the great and terrific
vow to care for souls, and to die for them if needed.
I ought to tremble in remembering it. I say the same
of the Chaplet, and the Ave, marts stella.
I have observed neither order nor measure in an
swering you; but this bearer has taken away my

chance.
I await, with quiet foot, a great tempest (as I wrote
to you at the beginning) about my personal revenue.
I await it joyously and looking at the Providence of
God ;
I hope it will be for his greater glory and my
repose, and many other good ends. I am not sure it

will come, I am
only threatened with it. But why do
I tell
you Eh because I cannot help it my
this ? ! :
heart must dilate itself with yours in this way ; and

since in this expectation I have consolation and hope
of happiness, why should I not tell it you ? But only
for yourself, I beg you.
I pray earnestly for our Celse-Benigne, and all the
little troop of girls. I also recommend myself to their
prayers. Remember to pray for my Geneva, that God

may convert it.
Also remember to behave with a great respect and

honour in that regards the good spiritual father you
all
know of; and again, treating with his disciples and

spiritual them acknowledge only true
children, let
sweetness and humility in you. If you receive some
reproaches, keep yourself gentle, humble, patient, and

with no word save of true humility: for this is neces
sary. May Godbe for ever your heart, your spirit,
your repose and I

; am, Madam, your very devoted ser
vant in our Lord, &c. To God be honour and glory !
I add, this morning, St. Cecily s Day, that the proverb

drawn from our St. Bernard, hell is full of good inten
tions, must not trouble you at all. There are two sorts of
good wills. The one says I would do well, but

: it gives
me trouble, and I will not do it. The other : I wish
to do well, but I have not as much power as will ; it
is this which holds me back. The first fills hell, the
second, Paradise. The first only begins to will and

desire, but it does not finish willing its desires have
:
not enough courage, they are only abortions of will :

that is
why it fills hell. But the second produces entire
and well-formed desires; it is for this that Daniel was
called man
of desires. May our Lord deign to give us
the perpetual assistance of his Holy Spirit, my well-
beloved daughter and sister !
LETTER III.
To THE SAME. (Madame de Chantal.)
Patience in interior troubles. Looking at God. Not to be pre

cipitate in the choice of a state. Advice on Confession.
1 8^ February, 1605.
I PRAISE God for the constancy with which you support
your tribulations. I still see in it, however, some little
disquiet and eagerness, which hinders the final effect
of your patience. In your patience, said the Son of

God, you shall possess your souls* To fully possess
our souls is then the effect of patience ; and in pro
portion as patience is perfect, the possession of the soul
becomes more entire and excellent. Now, patience is
more perfect as it mixed with disquiet and

is less
eagerness. May God then deign to deliver you from

these two troubles, and soon afterwards you will be
free altogether.
Good courage, I beseech you, my dear sister; you
have only suffered the fatigue of the road three years,
and you crave repose ; but remember two things the :
* Luke xxi. 19.

one, that the children of Israel were forty years in the

desert before arriving in the country of rest which was
promised them, and yet six weeks might easily have

sufficed for all this journey ; and it was not lawful for
them to inquire why God made them take so many

turns, and led them by ways so rough, and all those
who murmured died before their arrival. The other
thing is, that Moses, the greatest friend of God in all
that multitude, died on the borders of the land of
repose, seeing it with his eyes, and not able to have

the enjoyment of it.
O might it please God that we should little regard

the course of the way we tread, and have our eyes
fixed on him who conducts us, and on the blessed
country to which it leads What should it matter to
!
us whether it is by the deserts or by the meadows we
go, if Godwith us and we go into Paradise ? Trust

is
me, I pray you, cheat your trouble all you can ; and if
you feel it, at least regard it not, for the sight will
give you more fear of it, than the feeling will give you
pain. Thus are covered the eyes of those who are
going to suffer some painful application of the iron. I
think you dwell a little too much on the consideration
of your trouble.
And as for what you say, that it is a great burden
to will and to be unable, I will not say to you that
we must will what we can do, but I do say it is a
great power before God to be able to will. Go fur
ther, Ibeg you, and think of that great dereliction,

which our Master suffered in the Garden of Olives;
and see how this clear Son, having asked consolation

from his good Father, and knowing that he willed not
to give it him, thinks of it no more, strives after it
no more, seeks it no more ; but, as if he had never
thought of it, executes valiantly and courageously the
work of our redemption.
After you have prayed the Father to console you,
if it does not please him to do it, think of it no more,
and your courage to do the work of your salva

stiffen
tion on the Cross, as if you were never to descend from
it, and as if
you would never more see the sky of
your life clearand serene. What would you ? You
must see and speak to God amid the thunders and
the whirlwinds you must ; see him in the bush, and
amid the thorns and to do ; this, the truth is that we
must take off our shoes, and make a great abnegation
of our wills and affections. But the Divine goodness
has not called you to the state in which you are,
without strengthening you for all this. It is for him
to perfect his work. True, it is a little long, because

the matter requires it ;
but patience.
In short, for the honour of God, acquiesce entirely
in his will, and by no means believe that you can
servehim otherwise for he is never well served save
;
when he is served as he wills.

Well, he wants you to serve him without relish,
without sentiment, with repugnances and convulsions
of spirit. This service gives you no satisfaction, but
it contents him : it is not to your pleasure, but it is
his pleasure.
s 2
Suppose you were never to be delivered from your

troubles, what would you do ? You would say to
God : I am yours ;
if miseries are agreeable to
my
you, increase their number and duration. I have
confidence in God that you would say this, and think
no more of them ; at least you would no longer excite
yourself. Do the same about them now, and grow

familiar with your burden, as if you and it were
always to live together you : will find that when you
are no longer thinking of deliverance, God will think
of it ; and when you are no longer disquieted, God
will be there.
Enough for this point, till God gives me the oppor
tunity of declaring it to you at leisure ; when upon it

we will establish the assurance of our joy ; this will be
when God lets us see one another again in person.
This good soul, whom you and I cherish so much,
gets you to ask me if she may wait for the presence

of her spiritual father to accuse herself of some point
which she did not remember in her general confession,
and as far as I see she would strongly desire it. But

tell her, I beg you, that this can in no way be I :
should betray her soul if I allowed her this abuse.

She must at the very first confession she makes, quite
at the beginning, accuse herself of this forgotten sin
same if there are many), purely and simply,
(I say the
though she need not repeat any other thing of her
general confession ; this was quite good, and therefore,

in spite of things forgotten, this soul must not trouble
herself at all.
Var ious L e tiers. 261
And take from her the hurtful fear which may dis
tress her in. this matter ; for the truth is, that the first
and principal point of Christian simplicity lies in this

frankness in accusing ourselves of our sins, when neces
sary, purely and nakedly, without dread of our con

fessor s ear which is held ready only to hear sins, not
virtues, and sins of all kinds. Let her then bravely

and courageously fulfil this duty, with great humility
and contempt of self, not fearing to show her misery
tohim by whose agency God wills to cure her.
But if her ordinary confessor causes her too much
shame or fear, she may indeed go elsewhere but I ;
would wish in this all simplicity, and I think all she

has to say is in fact a very little matter, and it is fear
makes it seem great.
But tell her all this with a great charity, and assure
her that if in this matter I could condescend to her
inclination, I would do
very willingly, according to
it
the service I have vowed for her to most holy Chris

tian liberty.
But if, after this, in the first meeting she may
have with her spiritual father, she expects to get
some consolation and by manifesting to him
profit
the same fault, she may do it, though it is not
necessary. Indeed, from what I have learnt by her

last letter, she desires, and I hope even it will be
useful to her, to make a general confession again,
with a great preparation ; this, however, she should
not begin till a little before her departure, for fear of
hampering herself.
Tell her also, I beg you, that I have seen the

desire she begins to have of finding herself one day
in the place where she can serve God with body and
voice. Check her at this beginning ; let her know
that this desire is of so great consequence, that she
ought not either to continue it or allow it to grow,
except after she has fully communicated with her

spiritual father, and they have listened together to
what God will say about it. I fear lest she should
commit herself further, and afterwards it might be
hard to bring her back to the indifference with which
the counsels of God are to be heard. I am willing
for her to keep it alive, but not for it to grow ; for,
trust me, it always be better to hear our Lord
will
with indifference, and in a spirit of liberty, which

cannot be if this desiregrows strong it will subject
;
all the interior faculties, and will tyrannize over the
reason in its choice.
I give you a great deal of trouble, making you the

messenger of these answers but since you have
;
kindly taken the trouble to propose to me the

questions on her part, your charity will still take it to
let her know my opinion.
Courage, beseech you ; let nothing move you.
I
It is still night, but the day approaches ; yes, it will
not delay. But, meantime, let us put in practice the
saying of David :
Lift up your hands to the holy
places in the night, and bless the Lord* Let us bless
him with our heart, and pray him to be our guide,

all
our bark, and our port.

I do not mean to answer your last letter in detail,
save in certain points which seem to me more
pressing.
You cannot dearest child, that tempta
believe, my
tions against faith and the Church come from God :
but whoever told you that God was the author of

them ? Much darkness, much powerlessness, much
tying to the perch, much dereliction and depriving of
vigour, much disorder of the spiritual stomach, much
bitterness in the interior mouth, which makes bitter
the sweetest wine in the world but suggestions of
blasphemy, infidelity, disbelief Ah no, they cannot

!
come from our good God his bosom : is too pure to

conceive such objects.
Do you know how God acts in this ? He allows the
evil maker (forger on) of such wares to come and offer
them for sale, in order that by our contempt of them

we may testify our affection for Divine things. And
for this, my dear sister, my dearest child, are we to
become disquieted, are we to change our attitude ? O
God, no, no (nenni] It is the devil who goes
\
all round our soul, raging and fuming, to see if

he can find some gate open. He did so with Job,
with St. Anthony, with St. Catherine of Sienna, and
with an infinity of good souls that I know, and with
mine, which is good for nothing, and which I know
not. And what ! for all this, my good daughter,
must we get troubled ? Let him rage ; keep
all the entrances closely shut : he will tire at last,
or if he does not tire, God will make him raise the
siege.
Remember what I told you, I think, once before.
It is a good sign when he makes so much noise and
tempest round about the will; it is a sign that he is
not within. And courage, my dear soul ; I say this
word with great feeling and in Jesus Christ ; my dear
soul, courage, I say. So long as we can say with
resolution, though without feeling, Vive Jesus
! we
must not fear.
And do not tell me that you say it with cowardice,
without force or courage, but as if by a violence which
you do yourself. O God ! there it is then, the holy
violence which bears heaven away. Look, my child,
it is a sign that all is taken, that the enemy has
gained everything in our fortress, except the keep,
which is impregnable, unseizable, and which cannot
be ruined except by itself. It is, in fine, that free
will, which, quite naked before God, resides in

the supreme and most spiritual part of the soul,
depends on no other than its God and itself; and

when all the other faculties of the soul are lost and
subject to the enemy, it alone remains mistress of

itself so as not to consent.
Now do you see souls afflicted because the enemy,
occupying all the other faculties, makes in them his

clamour and extremest hubbub. Scarcely can one
hear what is said and done in this spiritual will. It
has indeed a voice more clear and telling than the

inferior will ; but this latter has a voice so harsh and

so noisy that it drowns the clearness of the other.
In fine,, note this ; while the temptation displeases
you there is nothing to fear for why does it displease

:
you, save because you do not

will it? In a word,
these importunate temptations come from the malice
of the devil but the pain and suffering which we feel
;
come from the mercy of God, against the will of the
enemy, draws from his malice holy tribulation, by

which he refines the gold which he would put into
his treasures. sum up thus: your temptations are
I
from the devil and from hell, but your pains and
afflictions are from God and Paradise the mothers :
are from Babylon, but the daughters from Jerusalem.

Despise the temptations, embrace the tribulations.
I will tell you, one day, when I have plenty of
leisure, what evil it is that causes these obstructions of
spirit: it cannot be written in a few words.

Have no fear, I beg you, of giving me trouble ; for
I protest that it is an extreme consolation to be
pressed to do you any service. Write to me then,
and and without order, and in the most simple
often,
way you can; I shall always have an extreme content

ment in it.
I am going in an hour to the little hamlet where I

am to preach, God willing to employ me. Both in suf
fering and in preaching, be his name for ever blessed!

Nothing of the tempest I spoke of has yet hap
pened, but the clouds are still full, dark, and charged,
above my head.
You cannot have too much confidence in me, who

am perfectly and irrevocably yours in Jesus Christ,
whose dearest graces and benedictions I wish you a
thousand and a thousand times a day Let us live
in him and for him. Amen. Your, Sec.
LETTER IV.
To THE SAME.
Great crosses are more meritorious, and require more strength.
La Roche, iqth February, 1605.
MADAM, I have so much sweetness in my desire for
your spiritual good, that nothing I do under this
influence can hurt me.

You tell me you still bear your great cross, but that
it weighs because you have more strength.
less heavily
O Saviour of the world here is one who goes well

! !
We must carry our cross ; he who carries the heaviest
will do best. May God, then, give us greater crosses,

but may it please him to give us greater strength to
bear them !
So, then, courage :
If thou wilt believe,
thou shalt see the glory of God*
I do not answer you now, for I cannot ;
I am only
passing rapidly over your letters. I will not send you
anything at present about the reception of the most
Holy Sacrament ;
if I can, it will be at the first con
venience.
* John xi. 40.
I saw one day a pious picture ;

it was a heart, on
which the little Jesus was seated. O God, said I,
thus may you sit on the heart of this daughter whom

you have given me, and to whom you have given me.
It pleased me in this picture that Jesus was seated
and resting, for that represented to me
a certain
stability; and it pleased me that he was a child, for

that the age of perfect simplicity and sweetness
is :
and communicating on the day on which I knew you

were doing the same, I entertained by this desire that
blessed guest, in this place (the heart) both in your

house and in mine. God be in all and everywhere
blessed, and deign to possess our hearts for ever and
ever ! Amen. Your, &c.
LETTER V.
To THE SAME.
Never to forget the day on which we returned to God.
loth July, 1605.
I HAVE forgotten to say to you, my dear child, that if
the prayers of St. John, and St. Francis, and the others
you have more relish for you in French (than in

say,
Latin), I am very pleased that you should recite them

so. Remain in peace, my child, with your Spouse
clasped tightly in your arms.
Oh how satisfied is my soul with the exercise of
!
penance we have made these days past, happy days,

and acceptable and memorable Job desires that the !
day of his birth perish,* and that there never be a

remembrance of it ; but, as for me, my child, I wish,
on the contrary, that these days, in which God has
made you all his own, should live for ever in your
soul, and that the remembrance of them should be

perpetual. Yes, indeed, my child, they are days
whose memory will, without doubt, be eternally agree
able and sweet, provided that our resolutions, taken
with so much strength anl courage, remain well
closed and safe, under the precious seal I have put
with my hand.
I wish, my child, that we should
celebrate every
year their anniversary days, by the addition of some
particular exercises to our ordinary ones. I wish that

we should call them days of our dedication, since in
them you have so entirely dedicated your spirit to
God. Let nothing trouble you henceforth, my child ;

say with St. Paul From henceforth, let no one be
:
troublesome to me, for I bear the marks of Jesus Christ

in my body ;t that is, I am his vowed, consecrated,
sacrificed servant.
Keep the enclosure of your monastery, let not your

intentions go forth hither and thither; for this is
only a distraction of heart. Keep the rule well, and
believe, but believe firmly, that the Son of Madam

your Abbess (the Blessed Virgin) will be all yours.
Keep up, as far as ever you can, a close union
amongst yourself, Madame du Puits d/Orbe, and

* Job iii.
3. t Gral. vi. 17.
Madame Brulart; for I think this will be profitable to

them.
You conclude, since I write to you on every
will
occasion, that I see you often iu spirit it is true. :
No, it will never be possible for anything to separate

me from your soul the tie is too strong.
: Death
itself will have no power to dissolve it, since it is of a
stuff which lasts for ever.
I am much consoled, my dear child, to see you

filled with the desire of obedience it is a desire of
:
incomparable value, and one which will support you

in all your trials. Ah !
no,my very beloved child,
regard not whom but for whom you obey. Your vow
is addressed to God, though it regards a man. My
God ! do not fear that the providence of God may
fail you; no, if necessary, he would rather send an
angel to conduct you than leave you without guide,
since with so much courage and resolution you
wish to obey. Repose, then, my dear child, in this
paternal Providence, resign yourself entirely to it.
Meanwhile, as much as I can, I will spare myself, in
order to keep promise to you, and by help of

my
be able long to serve you ; but may
celestial grace, to
this Divine will be always done Amen. !
Yesterday I went on the lake in a little boat, to

visit M.
the Archbishop of Vienne; and I was very
glad to have nothing (save a two-inch plank) to trust

to, except holy Providence ; and I was still more glad
to be there under the obedience of the boatman. He
made us sit and keep still, without moving, as seemed
1
270 6 /. Francis de Sales.
good to him, and indeed I did not move. But, my

child, do not take these words for things of high value.
No, they are only little fancies of virtue, which my
heart makes to cheer itself, for when it is in good
sooth, I am not so brave.

I cannot help writing to you with a great nudity
and simplicity of spirit. A-Dieu (to God), my dearest
child, this same God whom I adore, and who has
made me so uniquely and intimately yours, that his
name, and that of his holy Mother, may be blessed

for ever.
Yesterday, also, I called to mind St. Martha,

exposed in a little boat with Magdalen : God was their
pilot to land them in our France. A-Dieu, again, my

dear child : live all-joyous, all-constant in our dear
Jesus. Amen.
LETTER VI.
To THE SAME.
Not to reason with temptations, nor to fear them, nor even
rejiect on them.
St. Augustine s Day, ôth August, 1605.
You will have now to hand, I am sure, my child,

the three letters which I have written to you, and
which you had not yet received when you wrote to
me on the loth August. It remains for me to answer
yours of that date, since by the preceding I have

answered all the others.
Your temptations against faith have come back ;
and though you do not answer them a single word,

they press you. You do not answer them that is :
good, my
child but you think too much of them,
;
you them
fear too much, you dread them too much :
they would do you no harm without that. You are

too sensitive to temptations. You love the faith, and
would not have a single thought come to you, con
trary to it ; and as soon as ever a single one touches
you, you grieve about it and distress yourself. You
are too jealous of this purity of faith ; everything
seems to spoil it. No, no, my child, let the wind
blow, and think not that the rustling (frifilis) of the

leaves is the clashing (cliquetis) of arms.
Lately I was near the bee-hives, and some of the

bees flew on to my face : I wanted to raise my hand,
and brush them off. No, said a peasant to me, do
not be afraid, and do not touch them :
they will not
sting you you touch them they will bite you.
at all; if
I trusted him; not one bit me. Trust me; do not

fear these temptations, do not touch them, they will
not hurt you ; pass on, and do not occupy yourself
with them.
I return from that extremity of my diocese which
is on the Swiss border, where I have achieved the
establishment of thirty-three parishes, in which, eleven
years ago, there were only ministers ; and I was there

three years quite alone preaching the Catholic faith :
and God has made this voyage an entire consolation

to me ; for in place of my not finding a hundred
Catholics,, I have not left there now a hundred Hugue
nots. I have indeed had trouble in this journey and
a terrible embarrassment ; and as it was about tem
poral things and the provision of churches^ I have
been very much opposed. But God has put a good
end to it by his grace, and also there has been some
little spiritual fruit in it. I say this because my heart
can conceal nothing from yours, and considers itself

not to be a different or other heart, but one with
yours.
To-day is St. Augustine s; and you may guess,
whether I have besought for you the mother of the
servant (St. Monica). May God be our heart, my
child ; and I am in him and by his will, all yours.
Live joyful, and be generous. God, whom we love,

and to whom we are vowed, wishes us to be such.
It is he who has given me to you :
may he be for
ever blessed and praised !
P.S. I was closing this letter, badly done as it is,

and here are brought to me two others, one of the
1 6th, the other 2Oth August, enclosed in a
of the
single packet. I see nothing in them save what I

have said you fear temptations too much. There is
;
no harm but that. Be quite convinced that all the

temptations of hell cannot stain a soul which does not
love them let them then have their course.
: The
Apostle St. Paul suffers terrible ones, and God does
not will to take them from him, and all in love.
Come, come, my child, courage ; let the heart be ever

with its Jesus ; and let this vile beast (matin} bark at
the gate as much as he likes. Live, my dear child,
with the sweet Jesus, and your holy abbess, amid the
darkness, the nails, the thorns, the spears, the dere
lictions ; and with your mistress (St. Monica), live
long in tears without gaining anything : at last, God
will raise you up, and will rejoice you, and will make
you see the desire of your heart*
I hope so ;
and if he does not, still we will not
cease serving him ;
and he will not, on that account,
cease to be our God ; for the affection we owe him is
of an immortal and imperishable nature.
LETTER VII.
He exhorts her to prepare her heart that the Blessed Virgin

be born therein, and to unite herself closely to Jesus.
u The
little virtues"
i2>th September, 1605.

MY GOD ! dear child, when will the time come that
our Lady will be born in our hearts ? For my part,
I see that I am
unworthy of it you will think
totally ;
just the same of yourself. But her Son was born in

the stable ; so courage then, let us get a place prepared
for this holy babeling. She loves only places made

low by humility, common by simplicity, but large by
* Ps. xx. 2.
T
274 SV. Francis de Sales.
charity ; she is willingly near the crib, and at the foot
of the cross ;
she does not mind
she goes into Egypt,
if
far from all comfort, provided she has her dear Son
with her.
No, our Lord may wrestle with us and throw us to

leftor to right ; he may, as with other Jacobs, press
us, may give us a hundred twists ; may engage us,

first on one side, then on the other ;
in short, may
do us a thousand hurts : all the same, we will not leave
him he give us his eternal benediction.
till And,
my child, never does our good God leave us save to
hold us better ; never does he let go of us save to keep
us better, never does he wrestle with us except to give
himself up to us and to bless us.
Let us advance, meanwhile, let us advance ; let us.
make our way through these low valleys of the humble
and little virtues we ;
shall see in them the roses
amid the thorns, charity which shows its beauty among
interior and exterior afflictions the lilies of purity, ;
the violets of mortification : what shall we see not ?

Above all, I love these three little virtues, sweetness
of heart, poverty of spirit, and simplicity of life ; and
these substantial (grossiers) exercises, visiting the
sick, serving the poor, comforting the afflicted, and

the like : but the whole without eagerness, with a true
liberty. No, our arms are not yet long enough to

reach the cedars of Lebanon ; let us content ourselves
with the hyssop of the valleys.
LETTER VIII.
We are to carry Jesus Christ in our soul.
1 6th November, 1605.
MY DEAR CHILD, I find a particular consolation in

speaking to you in this dumb language (of letters),
after speaking all day to so many others in the lan
guage of the tongue. So, then, I needs must tell you

what I am doing, for I know almost nothing besides ;
and I hardly properly what I am doing.

know
I come from prayer, in which asking myself for
what cause we are in this world, I have learnt that we
are in only to receive and carry the sweet Jesus, on
it
our tongue by announcing him, in our arms by doing
good works, on our shoulders by bearing his yoke, his

drynesses and sterilities, and thus in our interior and
exterior senses. O how blessed are they that carry
him sweetly and constantly !
I have in truth carried him all these days on my

tongue, and I have carried him into Egypt, it seems
to me, since in the Sacrament of Confession I have
heard a great number of penitents, who have, with an
extreme confidence, addressed themselves to me, to
receive him into their sinful souls. God grant that
he may stay there !
I have also in prayer learnt a practice of the pre

sence of God, which, for the moment, I have locked
up in a corner of my memory, to communicate it to

T 2,
you as soon as I have read the treatise which Father

Arias has made upon it.
Have a large heart, dear child, and ever larger

my
under the will of our God. Do you know what I
said when spreading your corporal ? Thus, said I, may
the heart of her who sent it me be spread out, under
the sacred influences of our Saviour s will !
Courage,
my daughter, keep your holy Abbess
yourself close to
(the Blessed Virgin), and beg her without ceasing that
we may live, die, and live again in the love of her dear
child. Vive Jesus, who has made me all yours, and
more so than I can express !

May the peace of the
sweet Jesus reign in your heart !
LETTER IX.
To A YOUNG LADY.
What the courage of Christians is.
January, 1606.
THIS letter is to my daughter, who is kind, and whose

heart I feel to be unchangeable in the holy friendship
which she bears me. I have given myself time enough
to answer I know, but my leisure has been taken up

with embarrassments which our jubilee has brought me.
Truly, my dearest daughter, the resolutions which you

communicate to me were all as I could have wished
you them, and therefore good ones. Keep closely to
holy humility and the love of your own abjection.

Know that the heart which loves God must be attached
only to the love of God : if this same God wills to give

itanother love, he may; if he does not will to give it
another, he does as he pleases. I am sure, however,
that this good daughter will not keep her heart back.
I should be greatly grieved, for I love her, and she
would commit a great fault.
Ah! my dear daughter, how falsely do we call courage,
what is haughtiness and vanity Christians call these!
cowardice and faint-heartedness :

as, on the contrary,
they courage, patience, gentleness, mildness, hu
call
mility, the acceptance and love of contempt and abjec

tion. For such has been the courage of our Captain,
of his Mother, of his Apostles, and of the most valiant
soldiers of this heavenly a courage with which
army ;
they have overcome tyrants, conquered kings, and

gained over the whole world to the obedience of the
crucified. Be equal-minded, my dearest daughter,
towards all -these good young persons : salute them,
honour them ; do not avoid them, yet neither seek them,
except in so far as they seem to wish it. Do not speak
about all this unless with an extreme charity. Try to
bring that soul which you are going to visit to some
sort of excellent resolution. I say excellent, because
little resolutions not to do wrong are not sufficient;
we must also do all the good we can, and cut off not
only what is wrong, but all that is not of God and for
God.
Well, now we shall see one another, please God,
before Easter. Live entirely for him who died for us,
and be crucified with him. May he be blessed eternally

by you, my dearest daughter, and by me, who am,
without end, your, &c.
LETTER X.
Means of passing Lent well.
Chambery y 21 st February, 1606.
THIS can only be a short letter, for I am just going

into the pulpit, my dearest child. You are now at
Dijon, and I wrote thither a few days ago there you ;
abound, by the grace of God, in many consolations,

which I share in spirit. Lent is the autumn of the
spiritual life, in which we should gather the fruits, and
store them for the whole year. Enrich yourself, I beg
you, with those precious treasures which nothing can
deprive you of or spoil. Remember what I am accus
tomed to say : we shall never spend one good Lent, as
long as we expect to make two. Let us then make
this as the last, and we shall make it well. I know
that at Dijon there will be some excellent preacher;
holy words are pearls, and pearls of the true Eastern

ocean, the abyss of mercy ; get together many round
your neck, hang plenty from your ears, encircle your
arms with them these ornaments are not forbidden
;
to widows : for they do not make them vain, but

humble.
As for me, I am here, where, as yet, I see no more

than a slight movement of souls towards true devotion.
God will increase it, if he please, for his holy glory.
I am going now to tell my audience that their souls

are the vineyard of God : the cistern is faith, the tower
is
hope, and the press holy charity; the hedge is the
law of God which separates from other people who are
infidels. To you,
dear child, I say that your good
my
will is your vineyard; the cistern is the holy inspirations
of perfection which God rains down from heaven ; the

tower holy chastity, which, as is said of David s,
is
should be of ivory ; the press is obedience, which pro

duces great merit in the actions it squeezes out ; the
hedge is your vows. Oh may God preserve this vine

!
yard which he has planted with his hand May God !
make more and more abound the salutary waters of

grace in his cistern !
May God be for ever the pro
tector of his tower !

May God will to give all the
turns to the press which are necessary for squeezing
out good wine, and keep always thick and close that
beautiful hedge with which he has environed this
vineyard, and may he make the angels its immortal

husbandmen.
Adieu, my dear child, the bell urges me ;
I am going
to wine-press of the Church, to the holy altar,
the
where distils perpetually the sacred wine of the blood
of those delicious and unique grapes which our holy
Abbess, as a heavenly vine, has happily brought forth

for us. There, and you know I cannot do otherwise,
I will present and represent you to the Father, in tht
2 So 6V. Francis de Sales.
union of his Son, in whom, for whom, and by whom

I am solely and entirely your, &c.
LETTER XI.
On troubles of spirit.
jth March, 1608.
AT last I write to you, by Monsieur Fabre, my dear

child, and still without have had to
full leisure, for I
write many letters, and though you are the last to

whom I write, I have no fear of forgetting. I was
sorry, theother day, to have written you so many
things on this trouble of mind which you had. For
since was nothing in real truth, and since when you
it
had communicated it to Father Gentil, it all vanished,

I had only to say Deo Gratias. But, you see, my
soul is liable to outpourings with you, and with all
those whom I love. O God

what good
!
my child,
your hurts do me For then!I pray with more atten
tion, I put myself before our Lord with more purity

of intention, I place myself more wholly in indifference.
But, believe me, either I am the most deluded man

in the world, or our resolutions are from God and
unto his greater glory. No, my child, look not either
to left or right ;
and I do not mean look not at all,
but look not so as to occupy yourself, to examine
anxiously, to hamper and entangle your spirit in con-

siderations from which you can find no outlet. For

if, after so much time, after so many petitions to
God, we cannot resolve without difficulty, how can we

expect by considerations, some coming without any
reflection, others from simple feelings and taste, how
can we expect, I say, to decide well ? So then, let
us leave that alone, let us speak of it no more. Let
us speak of a general rule that I want to give you :
it is, that in all I say to you, you must not be too
particular : all is meant in a large sense (grosso modo),
for I would not have you constrain your spirit to any

thing, save to serve God well, and not to abandon,
but to love our resolutions. As for me, I so love
mine, that whatever I see seems to me insufficient to
take away an ounce of the esteem I have of them, even
though I see and consider others more excellent and

more exalted.
Ah !
my dear child, that also is an entanglement
which you write to me about by Monsieur de Sauzea.

This dreadful din .... which makes you afraid of
. . . . O my
God, can you not prostrate your
child,
self before God when it happens to you, and say to
him quite simply :
Yes, Lord, if you will it, I will
it, and if you wish it not, I wish it not : and then

pass on to some little exercise or act which may serve
as a distraction.
But, my child, what you do is this : when this
trifling matter presents itself, your mind is grieved,

and does not want to look at it : it fears that this may
check it ; this fear draws away the strength of your
rnind, and leaves the poor thing faint, sad, and trem
bling ; this fear displeases it, and brings forth another
fear lest this first fear, and the fright which it gives,
be the cause of the evil ; and so you entangle your
self. You then you fear the fear of
fear the fear ;
the fear ; you are vexed at the vexation, and then you
are vexed for being vexed at the vexation. So I have
seen many, who, having got angry, are afterwards
angry for getting angry: and all this is like to the

rings which are made in water, when a stone is thrown
in : a little circle is formed, and this forms a greater,
and this last another.
What remedy is there, my dear child ? After the
grace of God, the remedy is not to be so delicate.

Look you (here is another pouring- out of my spirit,
but there is no help for it), those who cannot suffer
the itching of a ciron* and expect to get rid of it
by dint of scratching, flay their hands. Laugh at

the greater part of these troubles; do not stop to
think about throwing them off; laugh at them; turn
away to some action ; try to sleep well. Imagine, I
mean think, that you are a little St, John, who is
going to sleep and rest on the bosom of our Lord, in

the arms of his providence.
And courage, my child, we have no intention ex
cept for the glory of God; no, no, at least certainly
not any known intention ; for if we knew it, we would

instantly tear it from our heart. And so, what do
*
Ciron, a little insect ; here, apparently, under the skin of the
hand. Cotgrave gives hand-worm.
we torment ourselves about ? Vive Jesus ! I think
sometimes, my child, that we are full of Jesus : at
least we have no deliberate contrary will. It is not
in a spirit of arrogance I say this, my child ; it is in

a spirit of trust and to encourage ourselves. I find
it is nine o clock of the night ;
I must make my colla
tion, and I must say Office so as to be able to preach

at
eight to-morrow, but I seem to be unable to tear myself

from this paper. And now I must tell you, in addi
tion, this little folly, it is that I preach finely to my
liking in this place; I say something, I scarce know
what itwhich these good people understand so
is,
well that they would willingly almost answer me.
Adieu, my child, my dearest child. I am, how truly,
your, &c.
LETTER XII.
We must work with courage at our salvation and perfection,
whether in consolations or in tribulations. What abjection
is ; its difference
from humility. Action which parents
should take with regard to the vocation of their children.
Advice on temptations. God wishes to be loved rather
thanfeared.
6th August , 1606.
MAY GOD assist me, my dearest daughter, to answer
properly your I greatly desire

letter of the 9th July.
to do so ; but I foresee clearly I shall not have leisure

enough to arrange my thoughts ; it will be much if I

can express them.
You child, speak with me frankly,
are right, my
as with me, that with a soul which God, of his
is
sovereign authority, has made all yours.

You begin to put your hand to the work a little,
you tell me. Ah !

my God, what a great consolation
for me ! Do this always ; always put hand to work a
little ; spin every day some little, either in the day,
by the light of interior influences and brightness, or
in the night, by the light of the lamp, in helplessness
and sterility.
The Wise Man praises the valiant woman because :
Her fingers have taken hold of the spindle* I
willingly say to you something on this word. Your

distaff is theheap of your desires ; spin each day a
little, draw out your plans into execution and you will
certainly do well. But beware of eager haste for ;
you would twist your thread into knots, and stop your
spindle. Let us always be moving how slowly so ;
ever we advance, we shall make plenty of way.

Your helplessnesses hurt you much, for, say you,
they keep you from entering into yourself and
approaching God. This is wrong, without doubt ;
God leaves them in us for his glory and our great

benefit. He
wants our misery to be the throne of his
mercy, and our powerlessness the seat of his all-power.

Where did God place the Divine strength which he
gave to Samson but in his hair, the weakest place in
* Prov. xxxi.
19.
him ? Let me no more hear these words from a
daughter who would serve her God according to his

Divine pleasure, and not according to sensible taste and
attraction. Although he should kill me, says Job,
yet will I trust in him* No, my child, these help
lessnesses do not hinder you from entering into
yourself, though they do hinder you from taking

complacency in yourself.
We are always wanting this and that ; and, though
we may have our sweet Jesus on our breast, we are
not content ; yet this is all we can desire. One thing
is necessary for us, which is to be with him.
Tell me, my dear child, you know well that at the
birth of our Lord the shepherds heard the angelic and

divine hymns of those heavenly spirits, the Scrip
ture says so; yet it is not said that our Lady and
St. Joseph, who were the closest to the child, heard the
Voice of the angels, or saw that miraculous light ; on

the contrary, instead of hearing these angels sing they
heard the child weep, and saw, by a little light
borrowed from some wretched lamp, the eyes of this
Divine child all filled with tears, and faint under the
rigour of the cold. Well, I ask you, in good sooth,

would you not have chosen to be in the stable, dark
and filled with the cries of the little baby, rather than
to be with the
shepherds, thrilling with joy and
delight in the sweetness of this heavenly music, and
the beauty of this admirable light ?
Lord, said St. Peter, it is good for us to be

* Job xiii.
15. j-
Mat. xvii. 4.
to see the Transfiguration ; and this is the day on

which celebrated in the Church, the 6th August ;
it is
but your Abbess (the Blessed Virgin) is not there, but
only on Mount Calvary, where she sees nought but

the dead, but nails, thorns, helplessness, darkness,
abandonment, and dereliction.
I have said enough, my child, and more than I
wished, on a subject already so much discussed

between us : no more, I beg you. Love God cru
cified amid darkness ; stay near him ; say ; // is good
for me to be here : let us make here three tabernacles,
one to our Lord, another to our Lady, the other to

St. John. Three crosses, and no more; take your
stand by that of the Son, or that of the Mother, your
Abbess, or that of the disciple ; everywhere you will
be well received with the other daughters of your
order, who are there all round about.
Love your abjection. But, you will say, what does
this mean, love your abjection ? for my understanding
is dark, and powerless for any good. Well, my child,

that is you remain humble, tranquil,
just the thing, if
gentle, confiding amid this darkness and powerlessness ;
if you do not grow impatient, do not excite yourself,
do not distress yourself, on this account ; but with
good heart, I do not say gaily, but I do say sincerely

and firmly, embrace this cross, and stay in this dark
ness, then you love your own abjection.
My child, in Latin, abjection is called humility

and humility abjection, so that when our Lady says :
Because he hath had regard to the humility of his

Various Letters, 287
handmaid* she means, because he hath had regard to

my abjection and vileness. Still there is some differ
ence between humility and abjection, in that humility
is the acknowledgment of one s abjection. Now the
highest point of humility is not only to know one s
abjection, but to love it ; and it is this to which I.
have exhorted you.

In order that I may make myself better understood,
know that amongst the evils that we suffer, there are
evils abject, and evils honourable ; many accept the

honourable ones, few the abject.
Example : look at Capuchin, in rags, and
that
starved with cold ; everybody honours his torn habit,
and has compassion on his suffering look at a poor ;
artisan, a poor scholar, a poor widow, who is in the

same state; they are laughed at, and their poverty is
abject.
A religious suffers patiently a rebuke from his
superior, everybody calls this mortification and obe

dience : a gentleman will suffer such for the love of
God, it will be called cowardice ; here is an abject

virtue, suffering despised. One man has a cancer on
his arm, another on his face : the one hides it, and
only has the evil ; the other cannot hide it, and with
the evil he has the contempt and abjection. Now, I
am saying that we must love not only the evil, but
also the abjection.
Further, there are abject virtues and honourable

virtues. Ordinarily patience, gentleness, mortifica-
* Luke i.
48.
tion, simplicity, are, among seculars, abject virtues :
to give alms, to be courteous, to be prudent, are

honourable virtues.
Of the actions of one same virtue some may be
abject, others honourable. To give alms and to
pardon injuries, are actions of charity; the first is
honourable, and the other is abject in the eyes of the

world.
I am ill
among people who make it a burden to them :
here is an abjection joined with the evil. Young married

ladies of the world, seeing me in the fashion of a true
widow, say that I act the devote, and seeing me laugh,

though modestly, they say that I still wish to be
sought after; they cannot believe but that I want
more honour and rank than I have, that I do not love
my vocation without regret : all these are points of
abjection. Here are some of another kind.

We go, my sisters and I, to visit the sick; my
sisters send me off to visit the more miserable ; this is
an abjection, according to the world they send me to ;
visit the less miserable, this is an abjection,

according
to God ; for the latter is the less worthy before God,
and the other before the world. Now, I will love the
one and the other as the occasion comes. Going to
the more miserable, I will say it is quite true
that I am worthless. Going to the less miserable :
it is very right, for I do not desire to make the holier

visit.
I commit some folly, it makes me abject, good;

I slip down, and get into a violent passion ; I am
grieved at the offence to God, and very glad that this

should show me vile, abject and wretched.
At the same time, my child, take good heed of
what I am going to say to you. Although we may
love the abjection which follows from the evil, still
we must not neglect to remedy the evil. I will do
what I can not to have the cancer in the face ;

but if
I have it, I will love the abjection of it. And in
matter of sin again, we must keep to this rule. I
have committed some fault I am grieved at it, though

;
I embrace with good heart the abjection which follows

therefrom and if one could be separated from the
;
other, I would dearly cherish the abjection, and would

take away the evil and sin.
Again, we must have regard to charity, which

requires sometimes that we remove the abjection for
the edification of our neighbour ; but in that case, we
must take it away from the eyes of our neighbour,
who would take scandal at it, but not from our own
heart, which is edified by it. / have chosen, says the
prophet, to be abject in the house of God, rather than
to dwell in the tents of sinners*
In fine, my child, you want to know which are the

best abjections. I will tell you that they are those
which we have not chosen, and which are less agree
able to us ; or, to say better, those to which we have
not much inclination; or, to speak out, those of our
vocation and profession.
How, for example, would this married woman choose

* Ps. Ixxxiii. 12.
U
every sort of abjections rather than those of the married

state ; this religious obey anybody but her superior ;
and I how I would suffer rather to be domineered

over by a superior in religion, than by a father-in-law
at home.*
I say that to each one his own abjection is the best,
and our choosing takes from us a great part of our virtues.
Who will grant me the grace greatly to love our abjec
tion, my dear child? Only he, who so loved his that

he willed to die to preserve it. I have said enough.
Finding yourself absorbed in the hope and idea of

entering religion, you are afraid of having gone
against obedience ; yet no, I had not told you to have
no hope and no thought of it, but simply not to
occupy yourself with it ; for it is a certain thing that
there is nothing which so much hinders us from

perfecting ourselves in our profession as to aspire to
another ; for instead of working in the field where we
are, we send our oxen with the plough into our
neighbour s field, where, however, we shall not be able
to make harvest this year. All this is a loss of time :
and it is impossible that keeping our thoughts and our

hopes in another place, we should properly strengthen
our heart to acquire the virtues required in the place
where we are. No, my child, never did Jacob love
Lia properly so long as he wanted Rachel. Cherish
this maxim, for it is very true.
But, look, I do not say that we may not think and
* Madame de Chantal lived with her father-in-law, and had
much to suffer from his ways and humours.
hope but I say that we must not occupy ourselves with

;
it, or employ much of

our thoughts therein. We are
allowed to look towards the place we want to get to,
but on condition we always look straight in front
of us. Trust me, the Israelites could never sing
in Babylon, because they were thinking of their
country; and for my part, I wish that we should
sing everywhere.
But you ask me to tell you whether I do not think
that one day you may quit, entirely and for ever,
everything of this world for our God; and you ask

me not to hide from you, but to leave you this dear
hope. O sweet Jesus ! what shall I say to you, my
dear child ? His all- goodness knows that I have very
often thought on this subject, and that I have
implored his grace in the holy sacrifice and elsewhere,

and not only that, but I have employed in it the
devotion and the prayers of better people than I am.
And what have I learnt up to this ? That one day,
my daughter, you are to quit all, that is, (for I want
you understand just what I mean) I have learnt

to
that I am one day to counsel you to quit all. I say
all: but whether this shall be to enter religion, is a great

matter I have not yet arrived at a conclusion on this,
;
I am still and see nothing before my eyes

in doubt,
which persuades it. meUnderstand properly,

to desire
for the love of God I do not say no, but I say that
:
my has not yet been able to find ground for

spirit
saying yes. I will beseech our Lord more and more,
that he may give me more light on this subject, that

u 2
I maybe able clearly to see the yes, if it is more for

his glory, or the no, if it is more to his good pleasure.
And let me tell you that in this inquiry I have in

such way placed myself in the indifference of my own
will to seek the will of God, that never have I done
it so perfectly ; and still the yes has never been able
to stay in my heart, so that up to now I could not

say it or pronounce it : and the no, on the contrary,
has always been there with a great deal of steadfastness.
But because this point is of great importance, and
there nothing which urges us, give me yet some
is
leisure and time to pray more, and get prayers for
this intention, and further, I must, before forming my

resolution, talk to you at leisure ;
this will be next
year, God aiding ;

and after all this, I would still not
wish you, in this point, to take a fall resolution on
my opinion, unless you have a great tranquillity and

interior correspondence in it. I will detail it to you
at full length, when the time comes ;
and if it does
not give you interior repose, we will take the advice
of some one else, to whom God will perhaps more
clearly communicate his good pleasure.

I do not see that it is necessary to hurry, and
meantime you can yourself think about it, without
making it an occupation, or losing time about it.
Although, as I up the idea (avis) of

said, to now
seeing you in religion has not been able to take its
place in my mind, yet I am not entirely resolved

about it, and if I were quite resolved, still I should
not like to oppose or prefer my opinion, either to
your inclinations, if they were strong in this particular

subject (for everywhere else I will keep my word to
you to conduct you according to my judgment and

not according to your desire,) or to the counsel of
some spiritual person which we might take.
Remain, my child, quite resigned in the hands of
our Lord :
give him the rest of your years, and
beseech him to employ them in the kind of life that
will be most agreeable to him. Do not preoccupy
your mind with vain promises of tranquillity, of self-
satisfaction, of merit; but present your heart to
your spouse, quite empty of all affections except his
chaste love ; and beg him to fill it

purely and simply
with the movements, desires and wills which are in his,
that your heart, like a mother-pearl, may conceive
nothing save the dew of heaven, and not waters of
this world ;
and yon will see that God you will aid
and that we shall do well both in the choice and in
the execution.
As to our little ones, I approve that you should
prepare a place for them in monasteries, provided that
God prepares in their heart a place for a monastery :
that is, I approve that you should have them brought

up in monasteries, with the intention of leaving them
there, on two conditions ; the one, that the monasteries
be good and reformed, and make profession of the
interior life the other, that when the time of their
:
profession arrives, which is not before sixteen years, it
be faithfully ascertained if they are willing to make it

with devotion and good- will for if they have not an
;
affection for it, it would be a great sacrilege to enclose

them in it.
We see how hard young persons received against

their will find it to accommodate themselves and
devote themselves to the religious life.
They ought
to be placed there with gentle and sweet inspirations.
If they stay there so, they will be very happy ; and
their mother also, for having planted them in the
gardens of the spouse, who will water them with a
hundred thousand heavenly graces. Make then this
arrangement for them ;
I am quite of this opinion.
But as to our Aimee,^ inasmuch as she wishes to
stay in the whirlwind and tempest of the world, you

must, without doubt, with a care a hundred times
greater, make her safe in true virtue and piety;
you must furnish her barque much more completely
with all the gear required against the wind and the
storm ; you must plant deeply in her mind the true
fear of God, and bring her up in the holiest practices
of devotion.
And as for our C. B.,t I am sure that Monseigneur
his uncle, will have more care in the education of his
little soul than in that of his exterior. If it were
another uncle, I would tell you to keep the care of
him yourself, that the treasure of innocence may not
be lost. And do not fail to instil into his spirit
gracious and sweet odours of devotion, and often to
* The eldest daughter.
f Celse-Benigne, the son. The uncle is Monseigneur Fremiot,

Archbishop of Bourges.
recommend to his uncle the feeding of his soul. God

will do with him as he pleases, and to this men must
accommodate themselves.
I can sayno more to you concerning the apprehen
sion you have of your trouble, nor the fear you have
of impatiences in suffering it. Did I not say to you,
the first time I spoke to you of your soul, that you
applied your consideration too much to any trouble or
temptation that may arise ; that you must look at it
only in a large way ; that women, and men also, some
times, make too much reflection on their troubles ;
and that this entangles thoughts and fears, and desires,

in one another, till the soul finds itself so much
embarrassed that cannot get free from them?
it
Do you remember M. N., how his soul was en

tangled and mazed with vain fears at the end of the
Lent, and how hurtful it was to him ? I beseech you
for the honour of God, my child, be not afraid of God,
for he does not wish to do you any harm love him :
strongly, for he wishes to do you much good. Walk

quite simply in the shelter of our resolutions, and re
ject as cruel temptations the reflections which you

make on your troubles.
What can I say to stop this flow of thoughts in
your heart ? Do not give way to anxiety about heal

ing it, for this anxiety makes it worse. Do not force
yourself to conquer your temptations, for these efforts
will strengthen them ; despise them, do not occupy
yourself with them. Represent to your imagination
Jesus Christ crucified, in your arms and on your breast,
and say a hundred times, kissing his side ; here is

my
hope, here is the livipg fountain of my happiness,
this is the heart of my soul, the soul of my heart :
never shall anything separate me from his love ; I

hold him, and will not let him go, till he has put me
in a state of safety. Say to him often What have I :
upon earth, and what do I desire in heaven, but you,
O my Jesus ? You are the God of my heart and my

portion for ever* Why do you fear, my child ? Hear
our Lord, who cries to Abraham, and to you also :
Fear not, I am thy helper. f What do you seek upon

earth, save God ? and you have him. Remain firm
in your resolution. Keep yourself
barque in the
where I have placed you, and the storm may come ;
as Jesus lives you shall not perish he will sleep, :
but in time and place he will awake to restore calm

to you. Our St. Peter, says the Scripture, seeing
the storm, which was very fierce, was afraid ; and as
soon as ever he became afraid, he began to sink and
drown, at which he cried O Lord, save me. % And
:
our Lord took him by the hand, and said to him :
Man of little faith, why didst thou doubt ? Regard

he walks dry foot on the waters ;
this holy Apostle,
the waves and the wind could not make him sink,
but the fear of the wind and the waves makes him
perish if his master rescue him not.

Fear is a greater evil than the evil itself. O
daughter of what do you fear ? No, fear
little faith,
not ; you walk on the sea, amid the winds and the
* Ps. Ixxii.
25. \ Gen. xv. i.
J Matt. viii.
25.
waves, but it is with Jesus. What is there to fear?

But if fear seizes you, cry loudly :
Lord, save me.
He will give you his hand :
clasp it tight, and go
joyously on. In short, do not philosophize about

your trouble, do not turn in upon yourself, go straight
on. No, God could not lose you, so long as you live
in your resolution not to lose him. Let the world
turn upside down, let everything be in darkness, in
smoke, in uproar, God is with us ; and if God

dwelleth in darkness, and on the Mount of Sinai, all
smoking, and covered with the thunders, with lightnings

and noises, shall we not be well near him ?
I must you a word about myself, for you love
tell
me as yourself. We have had these fifteen days a

very great jubilee, throughout the
which will be
world, on the commencement of the Pope s* admini
stration, and the war of Hungary. This has kept me
occupied, though consoled by receiving many general

confessions and changes of conscience ; then there is
the sea of my ordinary occupations, amid which,
(I say it to you) I live in full repose of heart, resolved
to employ myself henceforth faithfully and earnestly

for the glory of my God, first in myself, and then in
all that is under ray charge. My people begin to
love me tenderly, and this consoles me.
All your friends in this part are well, and honour
you with quite a special love.
Live, live, my dear child, live all in God, and fear
not death, the good Jesus is all ours let us be
;
* Paul V.
entirely his.Our most honoured Lady, our Abbess,

has given him to us let us keep him well
; courage, ;
my child. I am entirely yours, and more than yours.
LETTER XIII.
To THE SAME.
Advantage of interior trials for perfection. God communicates

himself in afflictions rather than in consolations.
Exaltation of the Cross, September 14^, 1606.
Do NOT distress yourself about me in all these matters
you write of; for, you see, it is with me as it was once

with Abraham. A deep sleep fell upon him in a dark
mist, in some fearful place, and a great and darksome
horror seized upon him ;* but was only for a short
it
time, for suddenly he saw a lamp of fire, and heard the

voice of God promising his benedictions. My spirit
certainly lives amid your darknesses and temptations,

for it
closely accompanies yours ;
the account of your
troubles touches me
with compassion; but I clearly
see that the end of them will be happy, since our good
God is advancing us in his school, in which you are
more on the alert than at another time. Only write
tome with open heart about your ills and your goods ;
and put yourself in no anxiety, for my heart is equal

to all.
Courage, my dear child, let us keep on, keep on, all
* Gen. xv. 12, 17.

through these low valleys let us live with the cross

;
in our arms,, with humility and patience.

What does it matter whether God speaks to us
amid thorns or amid flowers. Indeed, I do not
remember that he has ever spoken amid flowers,
though several times in deserts and thorny bushes.
Go on then, my dear child, and make progress during
this bad weather and this night. Above all, write very
sincerely to me : this is the great command to speak
to me with open heart, for on this depends all the

rest. Shut your eyes to any feeling you might have
about peace, which, believe me, I shall never lose
my
through you, as long as I see your heart firm in its
desire to serve God, and never, never, please God,
shall I see you otherwise; so give yourself no trouble
about that.
Be brave, my dear child, we shall get on, with

God help, and believe me this weather is better for
s
a journey than if the sun were melting us with its
burning heats. saw the bees, the other day, staying

I
quietly in their hives, because the air was foggy they

:
went out now and then to see how the weather was
getting on, but they did not hasten out, occupying
themselves with feeding on their honey. O God !
courage :
light is not under our control, nor any
consolation save what depends on our own will. But
so long as this is under the shelter of the holy resolu
tions we have made, and the grand seal of the heavenly
Chancery is on your heart, there is nothing to fear.

I will tell you two words about myself. For some
3oo S/. Francis de Sales.
days I was half-ill. A day s rest has cured me; I

have a good heart, thank God, and hope to make it
still better, as you wish.
My God ! with what consolation do I read the
words in which you say that you wish my soul per
fection almost more than your own. That is a true
spiritual daughter ! But
let your imagination fly as
far as it
likes, never
it get as far as my will
will
carries me in wishing you the love of God.
The bearer starts at once ; and I must go to make

an exhortation to our Penitent s-of-the-crucifix. I can
say no more except a blessing ; I give it you then in

the name of Jesus Christ crucified. May his cross be
our glory and our consolation, my dear child May !
it be lifted up and on our as

among us, planted head,
it was on that of the first Adam !
May it fill our
heart and our soul, as it filled the soul of St. Paul,
who knew nothing else. Courage, my child, God is
for us, Amen. I am all yours, immortally and God ;
knows it, who has willed it so, and has effected it;
with his own sovereign and personal hand.
LETTER XIV.
To THE SAME.
On the Love of God.
Annecy, February nth, 1607.

I HAVE been ten entire weeks without having a particle
of news of you, my dear, my very dear, child, and
your last letters were at the beginning of November ;
but the chief thing is that my fine patience almost

disappeared from my heart, and I think would have
disappeared altogether, if I had not remembered that
I must keep it, in order to preach it to others. But
at last, my dearest child, yesterday comes a packet,
like a fleet from the Indies, rich in letters and spiritual
songs. Oh how welcome it was, and how I cherished
!
it There was one of the 22nd November, another

!
of 3Oth December, and the third of the ist January

of this year ; but if all the letters I have written you
during time were in one packet, they would be in

this
far greater number, for as far as possible I have always
written, both by Lyons and by Dijon be this said to :
discharge my conscience, which would hold itself for

ever guilty, did it not respond to the heart of a daughter
so uniquely loved. I am going to tell you many things
in a desultory fashion, according to the subject of your
letters. My God ! how by depositing
rightly you act
your desire to leave the world in the hands of divine
Providence, that it
may not uselessly engage your soul,
as it indubitably would do if you let it act and move
at its fancy. I will think very much about it, and will
offermany masses to obtain the light of the Holy Spirit

to decide about it properly, for, look you, my dear
child, this is a principal affair, and must be tested by

the weights of the sanctuary. Let us pray God, let
us beg his will to make itself known, let us dispose
ours to wish nothing but by hfs and for his, and let us
remain at rest without eagerness or agitation of heart.
At our first meeting, God will, if he please, be mer

ciful to us ;
but why then, my dear child, I beg you,
should I put off your Saint-Claude journey ? If there
are no other inconveniences than those which now
appear, I think there is no cause to put it off.

As to the journey I want to make yonder, what
trouble to prepare it, and what risk to make it But !
God who sees my intention will arrange it by his good

ness, and we will talk of it before the time arrives.
And about my little sister also; she went to Dijon
with the good M. de Cressay, who would not too soon
confide her to Madam Brulart, for fear she would make
her a Carmelite.
I write now that she may be taken to you imme
diately after Easter ;
but write to me whether I shall
send to meet you at Montelon or at Dijon, and if you
will take this little one to Dijon ; or if I shall have her
taken to Dijon, and you take her to Montelon, or how?

Come then for the Thursday before Pentecost, and go to
Besanon, by all means, to see the holy Winding Sheet ;
all that is quite to my taste; you will see there Cor

delier nuns of the 3rd Order, who are much praised.
And perhaps an abbess of another order, who is four
leagues from there, namely, at Baume, .... who is
very virtuous, of one of the first families of my diocese,
and who loves me singularly. Meantime our little
Frances will accompany you, or you will leave her,
according to your desire and the counsel of the good

Father de Villars. This little Frances I love, because
she is
your little one and your Frances.
Well now, believe me, my child, I have been think

ing for more than three months that I would write and
tell you to give up your hoop this Lent. Do so, then,
as God inspires it ; you will not cease to look gay
enough without it in the eyes of your spouse and your
abbess.
We
must, after the example of our St. Bernard, be
quite clean and neat; but not particular or dainty.
True simplicity is always good and agreeable to God.
I see that all the seasons of the year meet in your
soul, that sometimes you feel the winter, on the
morrow dry nesses, distractions, disgust, troubles, and
wearinesses, sometimes the dews of May, with the
perfume of holy flowrets, sometimes the ardours of

desire to please our good God. There remains only
autumn, of whose fruit, as you say, you do not see
much; still it often happens that in threshing the
corn, and pressing the grapes, there is found more

than the harvest or vintage promised. You would like
all to be spring and summer, but no, my dear child,
there must be change in the interior, as in the exterior.
It is in heaven that all will be spring as to beauty,

autumn as to enjoyment, and summer as to love.
There will be no winter, but here winter is wanted

for abnegation and a thousand little virtues which are
exercised in time of sterility. Let us always walk our

little step ;
if we have a good and resolute affection
we can never go otherwise than well. No, my dearest
child, it is not needed for exercise of virtues that we

should ever keep actually attentive to all. That would
certainly too much entangle and hamper your thoughts

and affections. Humility and charity are the main
stays, all the other ropes are attached to them. It
needs only to keep ourselves well in these virtues one ;
the lowest, the other the highest, as the preservation

of the whole edifice depends on the foundation and
the roof. Keeping the heart closely to the exercise
of these, there is no great difficulty in getting the
others. These are the mothers of the virtues, which

follow them as little chickens their mother hens.
Oh ! indeed I greatly approve your being school

mistress. God will be pleased, for he loves little
children, and as I said
catechism the other day to
at
induce our ladies to take care of the girls, the angels

of little children love with a special love those who-
bring up children in the fear of God, and who instil
into their tender hearts true devotion, as on the con
trary our Lord threatens those who scandalize them

with the vengeance of their angels.
See, then, how well we are getting on. If you are
not at Dijon for Lent, no matter. You will not cease
to be near our good God, to hear him and serve him,
in the very service of your father, to whom I owe so
much honour and respect for the favour he does me in
loving me. I praise God that you were willing to

have your lawsuit arranged since my return. I have
been so pressed and urged to make appointments that

my room has been quite full of clients, who, by the
grace of God, mostly returned in peace and repose.

I confess that this dissipated my time, but there is no
help for it ;
we must yield to the necessity of our
neighbour.
How consoled am I with the cure of this good
person hitherto attached to profane love or false friend
ship. These are maladies which are like light fevers ;
they leave after them excellent health. I am now

going to speak to our Lord of our affairs at the altar,
then I will write the rest. No, you will not go
against obedience in not lifting your heart so often to
God, and not practising perfectly the counsel I have
given you. It is good and fit counsel, but no com
mand. In a command, words are used which make

themselves well understood do you know what coun
;
sels require ? They require us not to despise them,

and to love them.That is quite enough, but they do
not lay under any obligation. Courage, my sister,
my child, make your heart very fervent this holy
Lent. I have charged the bearer, who is M. Davre,
my vicar general, to send you this as soon as he
arrives, that you may have leisure to send him back
your answer, as he will be at Dijon eight whole days.

I have not yet been able to revise the life of our
good villager to complete it but that you may know

;
all Iknow, I may tell you that when I can get a

quarter of an hour of spare time, I am writing an
admirable lifeof a saint"* of whom you have not yet
heard tell, and I pray you also not to say a word of
it ;
but it is an affair of time, and one I should not
have dared to undertake if some of my most confiden-

* The Saint doubtless refers to the
"
Love of God."
tial friends had not urged me to it ; you shall see a
good piece of it when you come. I shall be ahle to
join that of our good villager to it, in some little
corner, for it will be at least twice as large- as the
great life of Mother (St.)

Teresa but as I say,, I want
;
nothing to be known of it until it is quite done, and

I am only beginning it. It is to recreate myself, and
to twirl, like you, my distaff.
I have received your hymns, which I like much,

for though they are not of such good rhyme many as
others, they are of good sentiments. And if I am not

prevented I will have them sung at my catechism. And
in exchange I send you this book, in which you will see
many beautiful things, which were in part made from

my first sermons by M. the President of this town, a
man of rare virtue and a true Christian.

What more shall I tell you ? I have just come
from giving catechism where we have had a bit of

merriment (debauche) with our children, making the
congregation laugh a little by mocking at balls and
masks, for I was in my best humour, and a great
audience encouraged me with its applause to play the
child with the children. They tell me it suits me
well, and I believe it.
May God make me a true
child in innocence and simplicity but am I not also a
;
true simple (one) to say that to you ? I can t help it, I

make you see my heart as it is, and in the variety of
its movements, that, as the Apostles say, you may
think no more of me than is in me. Live joyful and
courageous, my dear child. You must have no doubt

that Jesus Christ is ours ; yes, said once to rne a little
girl, he is more mine than I am his, and more than I
am my own.
I am going to take him for a little while into my
arms, this sweet Jesus, to carry him in the procession
of the confraternity of the Lord, and I will say to
him, the Nunc Ditnittis, with Simeon; for of a truth,

if he is with me, I care not whither I go. I will
speak to him of your heart, and believe me, with all

my power, I will beg him to make you his dear, his
well-beloved servant. Ah my God how am I in ! !
debted to this Saviour, who so loves us, and how would

I, all, press and glue him on my breast.
once for
I mean also on yours, as he has willed that we
should be so inseparably all in him. Adieu, my most
cherished, and truly most dear and daughter. sister
May Jesus ever be in our hearts, may he live and

reign there eternally may his holy name, and that of
;
his glorious Mother, be ever blessed ! Amen.

I am ever the servant of Monsieur, your father-in-
LETTER XV.
To A LADY.
Sign of good prayer. Advice on this exercise and on the choice of

books of piety ; on Paschal Confession and Communion.
November, 1607.
MADAM, MY VERY DEAR SISTER, I am surprised you
receive so few of my letters. I think I leave none
X 2
of yours without some answer. However, God be

praised.
Do not torment yourself about your prayer, which
you say is without words ; for it is good, if it leaves

good effects in your heart. Do not force yourself to
speak in this divine love ;
he speaks enough who looks
and is Follow, then, the path into which the
seen.
Holy Ghost draws you, though I do not wish you to

give up preparing yourself for meditation, as you used
to do at the beginning. This you owe on your side,
and you should of yourself take no other way but ;
when you intend to put yourself in it, if God draws

you into another, go with him into it; we must on
our side make a preparation according to our measure,
and when God carries us higher, to him alone be the
glory of it.
You can profitably read the books of Mother (St.)

Teresa, and St. Catherine of Sienna, the Method of
serving God, the Abridgment of Christian Perfection,

the Gospel Pearl, but do not be eager in the practice
of all you see there that is beautiful ; go quite gently,
aspiring after these beautiful teachings, and admir
ing them very highly, and remember that there is no

call for one to eat a feast prepared for many. Thou
hast found honey, says the wise Man, eat what is sufficient
for thee* The Method, Perfection, Pearl, are books

which are very obscure, and go by the mountain tops ;
we must hardly occupy ourselves with them. Read
* Prov. xxv. 1 6.
and read again the Spiritual Combat, this should be
your dear book, it is clear and entirely practical.
No, dear child, since you confess to good con

my
fessors, have no fear ; for if they had not the power
to hear you, they would send you away. And so, it
is not at all necessary to make in your own parish

those general confessions about which you write ; it is
enough to make your Easter duty there, by con

fessing, or at least communicating. If you are in
the country, the priest whom you find in the parishes
can also confess you. Let yourself not be oppressed

by scruples, nor by too many desires go on calmly:
and courageously. May God ever be your heart, my

dear sister, and I am in him your, &c.
LETTER XVI.
To A LADY.
We must always keep our soul in repose before God.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, As you have told me that my

lettersalways consoled you much, I wish to lose no
occasion of letting you have them to testify in some
way the desire I have to be useful to your soul, to
your soul, I say, which I cherish extremely.

Keep it always seated and at rest before God
during exterior works, and standing up and moving
about during interior ;
as the bees, who do not fly
about in their hives or while doing their house-work,

3 1 o St. Francis de Sales.
but only when they go out. While we are at our

affairs, we must aim at quiet of heart, and at keeping
our soul tranquil for prayer; if it wants to fly, let it
fly ;
do so, though then also
if to bestir itself, let it
tranquillity and simple repose of the soul in seeing

God, in willing God, and in relishing God, is very
excellent.
When I begin to write to you I do not think what
I shall write, but having begun I write what comes
to me, provided that it be something of God; for I
know that all is agreeable to you ; having much
strengthened during the last journey the entire con
fidence which my heart had in yours. I saw clearly,
methinks, that you had complete trust in me.

I am writing to that good D. N., who writes to ask
me to advise her about her future life ; which I find

hard, having scarcely seen her spirit, and mine being
too common and trivial to consider a singular life
like hers : all the same I tell her simply what I think.
May God keep you in his holy protection, and load

you with his graces.
LETTER XVII.
To A LADY.
We must bear our own infirmities with patience. God acts in
different ways towards his servants. Advice on dry nesses in
prayer. The will of God.
MADAM, Your 2oth January has given me

letter of the
an extreme satisfaction, because in the midst of your

miseries whichyou describe to me, I remark (I think)

some progress and profit which you have made in the
spiritual life. I shall be briefer in answering you
than I could wish, because I have less leisure, and

more hindrance than I expected. I will however say
quite enough for this time, awaiting another chance
of writing to you at full length.
You say then that you are afflicted because you

do not discover yourself to me perfectly enough, as
you think and I say to you that though I do not

;
know what you do in my absence, for I am no prophet,

I think all the same, that for the little time I have
seen and heard you, it is not possible to know your
inclinations and their sources better than I do, and I
fancy you have few folds into which 1 do not penetrate

quite easily and however little you open to me the
:
door of your spirit, I seem to see in quite openly : it
is a great advantage for you, since you wish to use

me for your salvation.
You complain that many imperfections and defects
occur in your life, in opposition to the desire you
have of the perfection and purity of love for our God.
I answer you that we cannot quit ourselves altogether
while we are here below we must always bear
;
ourselves until God bears us to heaven ;

and as long
as we bear ourselves we shall bear

any nothing of
worth. So we must have patience, and not expect to
be able to cure ourselves in a day of so many bad
habits, which we have contracted, by the little care
we have had of our spiritual health.
God has cured some suddenly, without leavicg any

trace of their former maladies, as he did in the case of
Magdalen, who in an instant, from a sink of the water

of corruption was changed into a spring of the water
of perfections, and was never muddied from that
moment. But also has this same God left in some of
his dear disciples many marks of
bad inclinatioas,
their
for some time after their conversion, and all for their
greater profit; witness the blessed St. Peter, who

after his first calling stumbled several times into
imperfections, and once fell down altogether, and very

miserably, by his denial.
Solomon says that the handmaid who suddenly

becomes mistress is a very insolent animal.* There
would be great danger that the soul which had long-
served its own passions might become proud and vain,
if in a moment she became entirely mistress of them.
It needs that by little, and foot by foot, we
little
obtain this dominion, which has cost the saints many

decades of years. It needs if you please, to have
patience with all the world, but first with yourself.

You do nothing, you say, in prayer. But what
would you do, except what you do, which is to present
and represent to God your nothingness and your
misery ?
harangue beggars make us when they

It is the best
expose to our sight their ulcers and needs.

But sometimes again you do nothing of all this, as
you tell me, but remain there like a phantom or a
* Prov. xxx.
23-
statue. Well, and that is not a little thing. In the

palaces of princes and kings, statues are put whicli
are only of use to gratify the prince s eyes ; be satis
fied then with serving for that purpose, in the pre

sence of God ; he will give life to this statue when he
likes.
The trees only fructify through the presence of the

sun, some sooner, others later, some every year, and
others every three years, and not always equally. We
are very happy to be able to stay in the presence of
God, and let us be satisfied that he will make us bear
our fruit, sooner or later, always, or sometimes, ac
cording to his good pleasure, to which we must entirely
resign ourselves.
The word which you said to me contains wonders :
let God put me in what sauce he likes provided that

I serve him. But take care to masticateit again and
again in your spirit, make it melt in your mouth and

do not swallow it in a lump. Mother (St.) Teresa,
whom you so love (for which I am glad), says some
where that very often we say such words by habit,
and with a slight attention. We think we say them
from the bottom of our soul, but it is not so at all,
as we discover afterwards in practice.

Well !
you say that in whatever sauce God puts
you it is all one. Now you know well in what sauce
he has put you, in what state and condition and tell ;
me is it all one ? You know also that he wants you

to satisfy this daily obligation of which you write to
me, and yet it is not all one to you. My God how !
3 1
subtly self-love insinuates itself into our affections,

however devout they seem and appear.
This is the grand truth ; we must look at what
God wants, and when we know it we must try to do
it
gaily, or at least courageously and not only that,
;
but we must love this will of God, and the obligation

which comes from it, were it to keep pigs all our life,
and to do the most abject things in the world ;

for in
what sauce God puts us it should be all one : it is
the bull s-eye of perfection at which we must all aim ;
and he who gets nearest gets the prize.

But courage, I beseech you ;
accustom your will
little by little to follow that of God, whithersoever

it leads you. Make your will very sensitive to the
voice of conscience saying : God wills it; and little
by these repugnances which you feel so strongly

little
will grow weaker, and soon will cease altogether. But

particularly you ought to struggle to hinder the ex
terior manifestations of the interior repugnance you

have, or at least to make them gentler. Among those
who are angry or discontented some show their dis
pleasure only by saying :

My God, what is this ?
And others say words which show more irritation and

not only a simple discontent, but a certain pride and
spleen ;
what I mean to say is that we must little by
little amend these demonstrations, making them less
every day.
As to the desire you have to see your friends very
far advanced in the service of God and the desire of
Christian perfection, I praise it

infinitely, and as you
Various Letters. 3 i
5
wish I will add my weak prayers to the supplications

you make ahout it to God. But, madame, I must tell
you the truth ;

I ever fear in these desires which are
not of the essence of our salvation and perfection, that
there may mingle some suspicion of self-love and our
own will. For instance, I fear that we may so much
occupy ourselves in these desires which are not neces
sary to us, as not to leave room enough in our soul
for desires which are more necessary and useful, as
of our own humility, resignation, sweetness of heart,
and the or again that we may have so much
like :
ardour in these desires as to make them bring us dis
quiet and eagerness, or in fine, I fear that we may

not submit them so perfectly to the will of God as is
expedient.
Such things do I fear in such desires ;
whence 1
pray you to take good care of yourself that you fall

not into them, as also to pursue this desire quietly
and sweetly, that is, without importuning those whom
you want to persuade to this perfection, and even
without showing your desire ; for, believe me, this

would throw back the affair instead of advancing it.
You must then by example and words sow amongst
them quite quietly things which may induce them to
your design and, without making appearance of wish
;
ing to instruct or gain them, you must throw little

by little and thoughts into their
holy inspirations
minds. Thus will you gain much more than in any
other way, above all if you add prayer.
LETTER XVIII.
To A LADY.
Piety must be solid. We must

be faithful to it everywhere and in
everything without failing .
MADAM, I praise God with all my heart, seeing in
jour letter the great courage you have to conquer

your difficulties in order to be truly and holily de
vout in your vocation. Do so, and expect from God
great blessings more, without doubt, in one hour of
such a devotion, well and justly regulated, than in a
hundred days of a devotion, odd, eccentric, melancholy,
and springing from your own brain. Keep firm in this
course, and let nothing shake you in this resolution.
You have, you tell me, a little relaxed from your
exercise in the country. Well ! we must stretch the
bow and recommence with proportionately more
again,
care but another time the country must not cause
:
you this loss ; no, for God is there as well as in the

town.
You have now my little writing about meditation,
practise it in peace and repose. Pardon me, my dear
lady, if I cut my letter a little shorter than you would

wish ;
for this good man Rose holds me so by the
collar to make me despatch him, that he does not
give me leisure to be able to write.
I pray our Lord to give you a singular assistance

in his Holy Spirit, that you may serve him with heart
and mind according to his good pleasure. Pray to
7
him for me, for I need it, and never do I forget you
in my weak prayers.
If your husband does not hold me for his servant
he is
very wrong ;
for I am such very assuredly, and
of all who belong to you. God be ever with you and
in vour heart. Amen.
LETTER XIX.
To A LADY.
We must labour to perfect ourselves in our state. Advice on

Confession and Communion.
MADAM MY DEAR SISTER, The confidence you have in

me gives me continual consolation, and still I am
grieved not to be able to correspond so well by letter
as I would wish but our Lord, who loves you,
:
makes up by the great helps you have there.

I approve that in prayer you keep yourself still a
littleto method, preparing your mind by studying
and disposing points, though without further use of

the imagination than is necessary to concentrate the
mind.
I know well, indeed, that when by good hap we find
God, it is good to occupy ourselves in looking at him,

and to rest in him but, my dear daughter, to expect
;
always to find him thus unsought and without pre

paration, I do not think that this is yet good for us,
who are still novices, and who have need rather to
consider the virtues of the Crucifix one after the other

and in detail than to admire them wholesale and
summarily.
But if, after having applied our spirit to this
humble preparation, God still gives us no sweetnesses
and savours, then we must keep patiently eating our
bread dry, and pay our duty without present reward.
I am consoled to know the chance you have
of confessing to the good father Gentil. I know
him well by reputation, and know what a good and
careful servant he is of our Lord you will then do ;
well to continue your confessions to him, and to take

the good counsels he will give you according to your
needs.
I would not wish you, madam, to train your
daughter to so frequent communion, unless she is
able properly to understand what this frequent com

munion is. To discern communion from other par
ticipations is different from discerning between
frequent communion and rare communion. If this
little soul fully discerns that to frequent holy com
munion she must have great purity and fervour, and
if she aspires after these and is careful to cultivate
them, in that case I consider that she may be let

approach often, that is, every fortnight. But if she
has ardour only for communion, and not for the
mortification of the imperfections of youth,
little
I think it would suffice to let her confess every week,

and communicate once a month. My dear child, I
think communion is the great means for attaining
perfection, but it must be received with the desire and

the care to take away from the heart all that dis
pleases him whom we wish to lodge

there.
Persevere in thoroughly conquering yourself in
these small daily contradictions you receive ;

make
the bulk of your desires about this ;
know that God
wishes nothing from you at present but that. Busy
not yourself then in doing anything else do not sow :
your desires in another s garden^ but cultivate well

your own. Do not desire not to be what you are, but
desire to be very well what you are ; occupy your
thoughts in making that perfect, and in bearing the
crosses, little or great, which you will meet. And,
believe me, this is the great truth, and the least
understood in spiritual conduct.

Every one loves according to his taste ; few love
according to their duty and the taste of our Lord.

What is the use of building castles in Spain, when we
have to live in France ? It is my old lesson, and you
know it well ;
tell me, my dear child, if you practise
it well.
I pray you, regulate your exercises, and have in

them a great regard for the inclinations of your head.
Laugh at those frivolous attacks whereby your enemy
represents to you the world as if you were to return
to laugh at them, I say, as nonsense ; there must
it ;
be no answer to them, but that of our Saviour Get :
thee behind me, Satan! Thou shall not tempt the Lord
thy God.* My dear child, we are in the way of the
* Matt. iv.
saints, let us walk courageously, in spite of the

difficulties which are therein.
I think I have satisfied all you want to know from
me, who have no stronger desire than to serve you
faithfully in this point.
I should much desire to see you ;
but it was not
convenient that I should will it. God will perhaps
dispose some means more proper for this :
yes, I pray
him, if it is for his glory, for which I will to
will all.
May he ever live and reign in our souls ! I am,

madam, my dearest daughter and sister, your, &c.
LETTER XX.
To ONE OF HIS RELATIVES.
He wishes her the Love of God.
MADAM MY DEAR COUSIN, I cannot, and would not,

refrain from writing to you, having so safe a bearer.
But it is only to tell you that I ask continually in
Holy Mass many graces for your soul, but chiefly and
as everything, divine love ; for, indeed, it is our all ;
it is our honey, my dear cousin, within which and by

which all the affections and actions of our hearts must
be preserved and sweetened.
My God, how happy is the interior kingdom, when

this holy love reigns therein ! How blest are the
powers of our soul which obey a king so holy and so

wise No, my dear cousin, under his obedience and
!
in this state, he allows not great sins to dwell, nor

even any affection for the very least. It is true that
he lets the frontiers be approached, in order to
practise the interior virtues in war, and to make them
valiant ; and he allows spies, which are venial sins and
imperfections, to run here and there in his kingdom ;
but it is only to make known that without him

we should be a prey to all our enemies.
Let us greatly humble ourselves, my dear cousin,
my daughter; let us confess that unless God be
cuirass and buckler to us, we shall be instantly
pierced and transpierced with all sorts of sins. There
fore let us keep ourselves close to God, by the con
tinuance of our exercises ; let this be the main
point
of our carefulness, and the rest accessories.
Meantime, we must ever have courage, and if some

weakness or enfeeblement of spirit occurs, let us run
to the foot of the cross, and place ourselves amid
those holy odours, those heavenly perfumes, and
without doubt we shall be comforted and invigorated
by them. I present every day your heart to the

eternal Father with that of his Son, our Saviour, in
the Holy Mass. He cannot refuse it, on account of
that union in virtue of which I make the offer ; but
I take for granted that you do as much on your
side. May we ever, with soul, with heart, and with
body, be to him a sacrifice and holocaust of praise.
Live joyous and brave, with Jesus on your breast.
Y
322 Si. Francis de Sales.
Madame, my dearest cousin, I am one whom he

has made your, &c.
LETTER XXI.
To THE SAME.
The Saint exhorts her to be faithful to God.
MADAM MY VERY DEAR COUSIN, Rightly do you find

God good, and relish his paternal solicitude in your
regard, in that, as you are now in a place where you
cannot get time to exercise yourself in meditation,
he gives himself more frequently to your heart, to
strengthen it with his sacred presence. Be faithful
to this divine spouse of your soul; and more and

more you will see that by a thousand means he will
make clear to you his dear love towards you.

I am not then amazed, my dear cousin, if God,
giving you the taste of his presence little by little,
disgustsyou with the world. There is no doubt, my

daughter, that nothing makes one think colocynth so
bitter as
eating honey. When we come to relish
divine things, it will be impossible for the earthly
again to give us appetite. And could we, after having
considered the goodness, the stability, the eternity of
God, love this miserable vanity of the world ? We

must indeed support and tolerate this vanity of the
world ; but we must love and affect only the truth of
our good God, and may he be ever blessed for leading
us to this holy contempt of earthly follies.
Alas ! It is true, madame my dear cousin, the
poor Madame de Moironwe should not have

is dead :
expected it last Lent. And truly we all shall die

some future day, we know not which. My God !
dear daughter, shall we not be blessed if we die with

our gentle Saviour in the midst of our heart? So
then, we must always hold fast to this, continuing our
exercises, our desires, our resolutions, our protesta
tions. It is a thousand times better to die with our
Lord than to live without him.

Let us live gaily in him and for him, and let us
not frighten ourselves about death; I do not say let
us not fear it at all, but I say let us not disturb
ourselves. If the death of our Lord is gracious
(propice) to us, ours will be good for us. Wherefore
let us often think on his : let us greatly cherish his
cross and his passion.
You say right, my well beloved daughter, when

we see our friends die, let us mourn them a little, let
us regret them a with compassion and tenderness,

little,
but with tranquillity and patience ; and let us profit

of their translation to prepare ourselves quickly and
joyously for ours.

I have praised God for that this poor deceased had
given herself, I think, a little more to devotion this
last year ; for it is a great sign of the mercy of God
on her. It is just a year since she entered into our
confraternity, which has well done its duty to her.
Y 2
LETTER XXII.
To ONE OF HIS SISTERS.
To avoid eagerness in devotion, and to practise mortifications

which come of themselves.
2oth July, 1607.
MADAM MY DEAREST SISTER, It is impossible for me to
restrain myself from writing to you at all opportunities
which present themselves. Donot worry yourself;
no, believe me, practise serving our Lord with a

of strength and zeal that is the true
full :
gentleness
method of this service. Wish not to do all, but only
something, and without doubt you will do much.
Practise the mortifications which oftenest present
themselves to you ;
for this is the thing we must do
first ;
after that we will do others. Often kiss in
spirit
the crosses which our Lord has himself placed
on your shoulders. Do not look whether they are of
a precious or fragrant wood ; they are truer crosses,
when they are of vile, abject, worthless wood. It is
remarkable that this always comes back to my mind,
and that I know only this song. Without doubt, my
dear sister, it is the canticle of the Lamb : it is a little
sad, but it is harmonious and beautiful. My father,

be it not as I will but as thou wilt.*
Magdalen seeks our Lord while she has him she :
demands him from himself. Wherefore she is not

content to see him thus, and seeks him to find him
* Matt. xxvi.
39.
otherwise : she wanted to see him in his glorious

dress, and not in a gardener s vile dress but ; still at
last she knew it was he, when he said Mary. :
Look now, my dear sister, my child, it is our Lord

in gardener s dress that you meet here and there
every day in the occasions of ordinary mortifications,
which present themselves to you. You would like
him to offer you other and finer mortifications. O
God, the finest are not the best. Do you not think
he says Mary, Mary ? No : before you see him in his
glory, he wishes to plant in your garden many flowers,

little and lowly, but to his liking that is why he is :
dressed so. May our hearts be ever united to his

and our wills to his good pleasure. I am, without end
and without measure, my dear sister, your, &c.
Have good courage, be not afraid, only let us oe
God s, for Go d is ours. Amen.
LETTER XXIII.
It is a great happiness to keep ourselves humble at the
foot of the cross.
Rwnillyj 2otk March, 1608.

MY DEAR CHILD, Let us keep ourselves, I beseech you,
quite at the very bottom of the cross; too happy if
some drop of this balm which distils on all sides, fall
into our heart, and if we can gather some of these
\
tiny blades of grass which grow round about. Oh !
I should like, my dearest daughter, to entertain you

a with the grandeur of this blessed saint (St.
little
Joseph), whom our soul loves, because he has fostered

the love of our heart and the heart of our love,
taking these words : Lord, do good to the good and up

right of heart.* O true God, I say, how good and
right of heart must this saint have been, since our

Lord did him so much good, giving him the Mother
and the Son ? For, having these two pledges, he might
cause envy in the angels, and challenge all heaven
together to have more good than he ; for what is there
among the angels to compare with the queen of angels,

and in God beyond God?
Good night, my all dear child, I beg this great saint,
who has so often fondled our Lord, and so often cradled
him, to give you the interior caresses which are required
for the advancement of your love towards this Redeemer,
and abundance of interior peace, giving you a thousand
blessings. Vive Jesus, Vive Marie, and also this great

St. Joseph who has so cherished our life.
Adieu, my child the widow of Nairn
;
calls me to
the funeral of her dear son.t It is not on such a
subject that I fail to think on what you write me
about your son. God s let us be without end, without
reserve, without measure Jesus be our crown
!
Mary !
be our honey ! I am, in the name of the Son and of

the Mother, your, &c.
* Ps. cxxiv.
4.
f Alluding to the Gospel for Thursday, fourth week of Lent.

LETTER XXIV.
To THE SAME.
On the repose of our hearts in the Will of God.
The Eve of the glorious St. Nicholas, $th December, 1608.
My DEAREST CHILD, Since my return from the visita
tion, I have had some symptoms of feverish catarrh.

Our doctor would not prescribe me any remedy but
rest, and I have obeyed him. You know, my daughter,

that this is also the remedy I willingly prescribe
tranquillity, and that I always forbid eagerness.

Wherefore, in this corporal rest, I have been thinking
of the spiritual rest which our souls should have in
the will of God, or which this will brings us ;
but it
is impossible to develop the considerations which this
requires without a little quite real and honest leisure.

Let us live, my dear daughter, let us live as long as
God pleases in this vale of tears, with a complete sub

mission to his sovereign will. Ah ! how indebted are
we to his goodness, which has made us desire with such

resolution to live and die in his love ! Without doubt,
we desire it, my child, we are resolved upon it : let us
hope further that this great Saviour, who gives us the
will, will give us also the grace to perfect it*

I was thinking the other day of what some authors
say about the halcyons little birds which build on the
sea-shore. They make nests quite round, and so com
pact that the water cannot penetrate them at all ;
and
* Phil. ii.
13.
only at the top is a little hole by which they can get

air and breathe. Within, they place their little ones, so
that if the sea surprise them, they may float in safety

on the waves without filling or sinking ; and the air
which enters by the little hole serves as counterpoise,
and so balances these little balls and little boats, that
they are never overturned.

O my child how I wish our hearts to be thus, well
!
compressed, well felted in on all sides ; that if the tem
pests and storms of the world fall on them these may

not penetrate them and they must have an opening
;
only on the side of heaven, to breathe to our Lord !
And this nest, for whom should it be made, my dear

child ? For the little brood of him who makes it for.
God s love, for divine and heavenly affections.
But whilst the halcyons build their nests, and their

little ones are
too tender to support properly the
still
shocks of the waves, ah God has care of them, and is

!
pitiful to them, hindering the sea from carrying them

off and seizing them. O God, my daughter, and so
this sovereign mercy will secure the nest of our hearts
for his holy love, against all the assaults of the world,
or he will save us from being attacked. Ah ! how I
love these birds which are surrounded by waters and
live only on air, who hide themselves in the sea and
see only the sky !
They swim as fish and sing as birds ;
and what pleases me more is that the anchor is cast

above and not below, to steady them against the waves.
O my sister, my daughter may the sweet Jesus deign
!
to make us such that, surrounded by the world and

the flesh, we may live by the spirit ; that amid the

vanities of the world we may always live in heaven ;
that living with men we may praise him with the
angels,and that the assurance of our hopes may be

always above, and in Paradise !
O my child, my heart was obliged to cast this

thought on this paper,throwing its wishes at the feet of
the crucifix, that in all and everywhere the holy divine
love may be our great love. Alas ! but when will it
consume us? And when will it consume our life, to

make us die to ourselves, and to make us live again to
our Saviour ? To him alone be for ever honour, glory,
and benediction. My God, dear child, what am I
writing to you? O my child, since our invariable
purpose and resolution tends unceasingly to the love

of God, never are the words of the love of God inop
portune for us. Adieu, my child ; yes, I say my true

child in him whose holy love makes me bound, yea
consecrated to be, to live, to die, and to rise again for
ever yours, and all yours : Vive Jesus I Vive Jesus, et
Notre-Dame! Amen.
LETTER XXV.
To A LADY.
We must hate our faults with tranquillity, and not uselessly
desire what we cannot have.
2Oth January , 1609.
MADAM, No
doubt you would explain yourself much
better and more freely by word of mouth than by
writing ; but, while waiting for God to will it, we must

use the means which offer themselves. You see, the
lethargies, languors, and numbness of the senses cannot
be without some sort of sensible sadness, but so long as
your will and the substance of your spirit is quite re

solved to be all to God, there is nothing to fear for :
they are natural imperfections, and rather maladies

than sins or spiritual faults. Still you must stir your
self up and excite yourself to courage and spiritual
activity as far as possible.
Oh ! this death is terrible, my dear daughter, tis
very true, but the life which is

beyond, and which the
mercy of God will give us, is also very desirable in
deed ;
and so we must by no means fall into distrust..
Though we are miserable, we are not nearly so much

so asGod is merciful to those who want to love him,
and who have placed their hopes in him. When the
Borromeo was on the point of death^
blessed Cardinal
he had the image of our dead Saviour brought, in
order to sweeten his death by that of his Saviour. It
isthe best of all remedies against the fear of our death,
this thought of him who is our life, and never to think
of the one without adding the thought of the other.
My God ! dear daughter, do not examine whether

what you do is little or much, good or ill, provided it is
not sin, and that in good faith you will to do it for God.
As much as you can, do perfectly what you do, but when
it is done, think of it no more ;
rather think of what
is tobe done quite simply in the way of God, and do
not torment your spirit. We must hate our faults,
but with a tranquil and quiet hate, not with an angry

and restless hate and so we must have patience when
;
we see them, and draw from them a profit of a holy

abasement of ourselves. Without this, my child,
your imperfections which you see subtly, trouble you

by getting still more subtle, and by this means sustain
themselves, as there is nothing which more preserves
our weeds than disquietude and eagerness in removing
them.
To be dissatisfied and fret about the world, when we
must of necessity be in it, is a great temptation. The
Providence of God is wiser than we. We fancy that
by changing our ships, we shall get on better ; yes, if
w change ourselves. God, I am sworn enemy of
My
these useless, dangerous, and bad desires for though :
what we desire is good, the desire is bad, because God

does not will us this sort of good, but another, in
which he wants us to exercise ourselves. God wishes
to speak to us in the thorns and the bush, as he did to
Moses; and we want him to speak in the small wind,

gentle and fresh, as he did to Elias. May his good
ness preserve you, my
daughter ; but
be constant^
courageous, and rejoice that he gives you the will to

be all his. I am, in this goodness, very completely
your, &c.
LETTER XXVI.
The difference between putting and keeping ourselves in the
presence of God.
1 6th January, 1610.
MY DEAREST CHILD, Your manner of prayer is good :
only be very careful to remain near God in this gentle

and quiet attention of heart, and in this sweet slumber
in the arms of his holy will; for all this is agreeable
to him.
Avoid violent application of the understanding,
because it hurts you, not only in other matters, but
even in prayer, and work round about your dear
object with your affections quite simply, and as gently

as ever you can. It cannot be but that the under
standing will make some dartings (elancements) to
bring and you must not busy yourself to

itself in ;
keep on your guard against it, for that would form a

distraction ;
but when you perceive it, be satisfied
with returning to the simple act of the will.

To keep ourselves in the presence of God, and to
place ourselves in the presence of God, are, in my
opinion, two things :
for, to place ourselves there it is
necessary to recall our minds from every other object,

and to make it attentive to this presence actually, as I
say in the book ;* but after placing ourselves, we keep

ourselves there so long as we make, either by under-
* Introduction, ii. 2.
Various Letters.
standing or by will, acts towards God, whether by

looking at him, or looking at some other thing for
love of him ;
or looking at nothing, but speaking to
him; or, neither looking nor speaking, but simply

staying where he has put us, like a statue in its niche.
And when there is added to this simple staying some

feeling that we belong God, and that he is
all to
our all, we must indeed give thanks to his goodness.
If a statue which had been placed in a niche in
some room could speak, and was asked :
why are
you there ? it would say : because the statuary, my

master, has put me here. Why don t you move ?
Because he wants me to remain immovable. What
use are you there, what do you gain by being so ? It
isnot for my profit that I am here, it is to serve and
obey my master. But you do not see him. No, but

he sees me, and takes pleasure in seeing me where he
has put me. But would you not like to have move
ment, to go nearer to him ? Certainly not, except
when he might command me. Don t you want any
thing, then ? No ;
for I am where my master has
placed me, and his good-pleasure is the unique con

tentment of my being.
My God !
daughter, what a good prayer it is, and
good way to keep in the presence of God, to keep our
selves in his will and in his good pleasure ! I think

that Magdalen was a statue in her niche, when withr
out speaking a word, without moving, and perhaps
without looking at him, she listened to what our Lord
said, seated at his feet ; when he spoke she heard ;
334 -S^- Francis de Sales.
when he paused from speaking, she ceased to listen,

and still stayed ever there.
A little child which is on the bosom of its sleeping
mother is truly in its good and desirable place, though
it says no word to her nor she to it.
My God ! how glad I am, my child, to speak a little

of these things with you ! How happy we are when we
will to love our Lord ! Let us, then, love him well,
let us not set ourselves to consider too exactly what we
do for his love, provided we know that we will to do
nothing but for his love. For my part, I think we keep
ourselves in the presence of God even while sleeping :
for we go to sleep in his sight, by his will, and at his
pleasure ;
and he puts us there like statues in a niche ;
and when we wake we find that he is there near us,

he has not moved any more than we we have then :
kept in his presence, but with our eyes shut and closed.
Now I am wanted good night, my dear sister, my
:
child, you will have news of me as often as possible.
Be sure the first word I wrote you was very true,

that God had given me to you the assurance : of it
becomes every day stronger in my soul. May this
great God be for ever our all. I salute my dear little
daughter, my sister, and all the household. Keep

firm, dear child ; doubt not; God holds you with his
hand, and will never leave you. Glory be to him for

ever and ever ! Amen.
Vive Jesus , and his most holy mother Amen and ! !
praised be the good father, St. Joseph God bless you !
with a thousand benedictions !

LETTER XXVII.
To THE WIFE OF PRESIDENT DE HERCE.
He consoles her under the motions of the passions which she fdt y
and which alarmed her. Nature is not indifferent to sufferings

in this life : our Lord in his Passion an example of this.
Remedy for the outbursts of self-love.
Annecy, jth July, 1610.
MADAME, God, our Saviour, knows well that among

the affections he has placed in my soul, that of cherish
ing you extremely and honouring you most perfectly,

is one of the strongest, and entirely invariable, ex
empt from change and from forgetfulness. Well, now,

this protestation being made very religiously, I will
say this little word of liberty and candour, and will

begin again to call you by the cordial name of my
dearest daughter, since in truth I feel that I am cor
dially your father by affection.
My dearest daughter, then, I have not written to
you ; but tell me, I pray, have you written to me

since my return into this country ? All the same,,
you have not forgotten me ; Oh certainly, neither !
have I you for I say to you with all fidelity and cer
;
tainty, that what God wants me to be to you that I

am, and I quite feel that I shall be such for ever,
most constantly and most thoroughly, and I have in
this a very singular satisfaction, accompanied with
much consolation and profit for my soul.
I was waiting for you to write, not from thinking

you should, but not doubting that you would, and then
I could write more at large. But if you had waited
longer, believe me, my very dear daughter, I could
have waited no longer any more than I can ever leave
;
out your very dear self and all your dear family in
the offering which I make daily to God the Father on
the where you hold, in the commemoration
altar,
which I make of the living, a quite special rank ; and
indeed you are quite specially dear to me.
Oh ! I see, my dearest child, in your letter, a great
reason to bless God which keeps holy in
for a soul
difference in fact, though not in feelings. My dearest

child, all thisyou tell me of your little faults is
nothing. These little surprises of the passions are
inevitable in this mortal life. On this account does
the holy apostle cry to heaven : Alas ! miserable man
that I am / / perceive two men in me, the old and the
new ;
two laws, the law of the flesh, and the law of the
spirit two operations, nature and grace. Ah ! who

;
shall deliver me from the body of this death f*

My daughter, self-love dies only with our body, we
must always feel its open attacks or its secret attempts
while we are in this exile. It is enough that we do

not consent with a willed, deliberate, fixed, and enter
tained consent ;
and this virtue of indifference is so
excellent, that our old man, in the sensible part, and

human nature according to its natural faculties, were
not capable of it. Even our Lord, who as a child of
Adam (though exempt from all sin and all the appear-
* Rom. vii.
ances thereof,) was, in his sensible part, and his human

faculties, by no means indifferent, but desired not to
die on the cross; the indifference was all reserved,
with its exercise, to the spirit, to the superior portion,
to the faculties inflamed by grace, and in general to

himself as being the new man.
So then, remain in peace. When we happen to
break the laws of indifference in indifferent things, or
by the sudden sallies of self-love and our passions, let

us prostrate at once, as soon as we can, our heart
before God, and say, in a spirit of confidence and
humility, Have mercy on me, Lord, for I am weak*

Let us arise in peace and tranquillity, and knot again
the thread of our indifference, and then continue our
work. We must not break the strings nor throw up
the lute when we find a discord ; we must bend our
ear to find whence the disorder comes, and gently
tighten or relax the string as the evil requires.
Be in peace, my dearest child, and write to me in
confidence when you think be for your conso

it will
lation. I will answer faithfully and with a particular
pleasure, your soul being dear to me, like my own.

We
have had these past eight days our good Mon-
seigneur de Belley, who has favoured us with his visit

and has given us some most excellent sermons. Guess
if we have often spoken of you and yours But what !
joy when M. Jantet told me that my dearest little god

son was so nice, so gentle, so handsome, and even
already in some sense so devout. I assure you, in

* Ps. vi. 3.
Z
truth, my dearest daughter, that I feel this with an
incomparable love, and I recollect the grace and sweet

little look with which he received, as with infantine
respect, the- sonship of our Lord from my hands. If

I am
heard, he will be a saint, this dear little Francis ;
he will be the consolation of his father and mother,
and will have so many sacred favours from God, that
he will obtain me pardon of my sins, if I live till he
can love me actually. In fine, my dearest daughter,
I am very perfectly, and without any condition or ex
ception, your, &c.
P.S. If you fear the loss of your letters on the way,
although you may as well
letters are scarcely ever lost,
not sign your name, for I shall always recognize your

hand.
Shall I dare to beg you to give my very humble
affections and my service to Madam the Marchioness
de Menelay ? She is humble enough to be satisfied
with this, and the little Francis good enough to per
suade her to it, and Madame de Chenoyse. Also, I
must salute Madame de la Haye.
LETTER XXVIII.
To A LADY.
Human respect is Nameworthy in matters of religion. Advice
on interior drynesses.
$th August, 1611.

I HAVE no sooner seen your dear husband than I have
learnt his departure from this town. This has been
the cause, my clearest daughter, that I have not been

able to give him this letter, by which I intend to
answer, though in haste as usual, the last letter I

have had from you.
Without doubt, my dearest daughter, we must not,
another time, alter anything of the general practices
by which we profess our holy religion on account of

the presence of these troublesome Huguenots, and
our good faith must not be ashamed to appear before
their affectedness. We must in this walk simply and
confidently.
Still your fault is not so great that you need
afflict yourself about it after repentance for it was :
not committed in a matter of special command, and

contains no denial of truth, but simply an indiscreet
respect. To speak clearly, there was in it no mortal

sin, nor, as I think, venial, but a simple coldness,
arising from disturbance and irresolution. Remain

then in peace on that score.
My dearest daughter, you ever make too much
consideration and examination about the cause of
your drynesses : if they came from your faults still you

would not have to be disquieted about them, but with
a very simple and gentle humility to reject them, and

then to put yourself back into the hands of our Lord,
that he might make you bear the penalty of them or
spare you it, he might please.
as You must not be
so curious as to want to know whence proceeds the
diversity of the states of your life. You must be

resigned to all that God ordains.
z 2
Well now ! here is the dear husband off, my dear
daughter, since his position and also his fancy give

him the desire of making a show now and then you :
must humbly recommend his departure and his re

turn to our Lord, with confidence in his mercy that
he will arrange about them unto his greater glory.
Live sweetly, humbly and tranquilly, my dearest
daughter, and ever be all to our Lord, whose most

holy blessing I wish with all my heart to you and to
your little ones, but specially to my dear good little
godchild, who is, I am told, all sugar. Your dear
cousin is in her vintage, and I am told she is well ;
so is Madam de N., who I think, advances much with

all her sisters, in the love of God. Your, &c.
LETTER XXIX.
The Saint recommends to her gentleness and peace in the troubles
of this life.
$oth June, 1612.

MY DEAREST SISTER, My child, I am grieved not to
have sooner received the salutation which Maitre
Constantine had brought me from you, for I should
have had more leisure to write to you according to

my heart, which is full of affection for you, and
cherishes you so warmly that it cannot be satisfied
with entertaining you for a little time. It is one of

the satisfactions of ray life to know that your soul

is completely dedicated to the love of God, towards
which you aim, advancing little by little in all sorts
of pious exercises. But I ever recommend to you,
more than all, that of holy sweetness and gentleness
in the troubles this life no doubt often causes you.
Remain quiet and all loving, with Jesus Christ on
your heart. How you be, very dear sister,
happy will
my child, if you continue to hold the hand of his

divine majesty, amid the care and course of your
affairs, which will succeed much more after your wish

if Godhelp you in them ! And the least consolation,
which you have from him will be better than the
greatest you can have from earth.
Yes, my dear child, my sister, I love you, and more
than you could credit but principally since I have
:
seen in your soul the excellent and honourable desire

to will to love our Lord with all fidelity and sincerity.
In this beseech you to persevere constantly, and
I
also in loving me very entirely, since I have a heart
quite completely and faithfully, my dearest child,
yours, &c.
LETTER XXX.
To A LADY.
Of resignation in trials, and of Christian mildness.

j
jth August, 1612.
WELL, what do you want me to say, my dearest
daughter, about the return of our miseries, except

that in presence of the enemy we must again take up

arms, and courage to fight more strongly than ever ?
I see no very great things in the letter. But, my
God !
carefully beware of entering into any sort of
distrust : for this heavenly goodness does not let you
fall into these faults to abandon you, but to humble
you, and to make you hold more tightly and firmly to
the hand of mercy.
please me extremely by continuing your exer

You
cisesamid the interior drynesses and weakness which
have returned upon you. For, since we only want
to serve him for the love of himself, and since the
service we pay him amid drynesses is more agreeable
to him than that we give amid sweetnesses, we ought

also to like it better, at least with our superior will ;
and though according to our taste and self-love, sweet

nesses and tendernesses may be nicer, still, drynesses,
according to the taste of God and his love, are more
profitable. So dry meats are better for the dropsical
than wet, though they always love the wet better.
For your temporal means, as you have tried to put
them right, and could not, you must now use patience
and resignation, willingly embracing the cross which
has fallen to your share; and as occasions arise you
must practise the advice I have given about this.
Remain in peace, my dearest daughter; say often
to our Lord that you want to be what he wants you
to be, and to suffer what he wants you to suffer.
Resist faithfully your impatiences by exercising not
only on all occasions, but without occasions, holy
mildness and sweetness towards those who are trouble

some to you ; and God will bless your design. Good
night, my dearest daughter : God only be your love.
I am in him with all my heart, your, &c.
LETTER XXXI.
Resignation to God s Will. Cure for spiritual troubles.
1 2th August j 1613.
LET us lift up our hearts, my dearest Mother let us :
behold that of God all-loving for us ; let us adore and

bless his will, his wishes. Let them sever, let them
cut in us, wherever he pleases for we are his eternally.
:
You will find thai in so many bye-ways we shall still

make progress, and that our Lord will conduct us by
the deserts to the holy land of promise. And from
time to time he will give us what will make us prize
the deserts more than the fertile lands, in which the
corn ripens in its seasons ; but the manna falls not.
My God dearest mother, when you wrote to me that

!
you were a poor bee, I thought I could not wish that,

so long as your drynesses and afflictions last for this ;
little animal which in health is diligent and busy,

loses heart and remains idle as soon as it gets ill.
But then changed my wishes, and said Ah yes,

I : !
I quite wish that that my mother may be a bee, even

while in spiritual trouble for this little animal has no
:
344 S^ Francis de Sales.
other cure for itself in its maladies, than to expose

itself to the sun, and to await heat and health from
its rays.
O God my !
daughter, let us put ourselves thus
before our crucified sun, and then say to him lovely :
sun of hearts, you vivify all by the rays of your good

ness : behold us here half-dead before you, and we will
not move till your heart quicken us, Lord Jesus. My
dear child, death is life when it happens in presence
of God.
Lean your spirit on the stone which was represented
by that which Jacob had under his head when he saw
the beautiful ladder : it is the very one on which St.
John the Evangelist reposed one day by the excess of
the charity of his master. Jesus, who is our heart and
the heart of our heart, will watch lovingly over you.
Rest in peace. May God be for ever in the midst of
your heart May he make it for ever more entirely his
!
own! Vive Jesus. Amen, Amen.
LETTER XXXII.
To A RELIGIOUS.
Different effects and signs of self-love and true charity.
1615.
OH ! would to God, my dearest child, that it was the
treatise of heavenly love which kept me occupied all
the morning ! It would soon be finished, and I should
be very happy to apply my soul to such sweet con

sideration but it is the infinite number of little follies,
:
which the world perforce brings me every day, which

causes me trouble and annoyance, and makes my hours
useless ; still, so far as I can run away from them I
ever keep putting down some little lines in favour of

this holy love, which is the bond of our mutual love.
Well, let us come to our letter. Self-love can be

mortified in us, but still it never dies; indeed, from
time to time and on different occasions, it produces
shoots in us, which show that though cut off it is not
rooted out. This is why we have not the consolation

that we ought to have when we see others do well ;
for what we do not see in ourselves is not so agreeable
to us; and what we do see in ourselves is very sweet
to us, because we love ourselves

tenderly and amorously.
But if we had true charity, which makes us have one
same heart and one same soul with our neighbour, we
should be perfectly filled with consolation when he did
well.
This same self-love makes us willing enough to do
things of our own election, but not by the election of

another, or by obedience ; we would do it as coming
fromus, but not as coming from another. It is always
we ourselves, who seek our own will, and our own
self-love on the contrary, if we had the perfection of
;
the love of God, we should prefer to do what was

commanded because it comes more from God, and less
from us.
As for taking more pleasure in doing hard things

them done by others, this may

ourselves than in seeing
be through charity, or because secretly self-love fears
that others may equal or surpass us. Sometimes we
are more distressed to see others ill-treated than our
selves by goodness of disposition ;
sometimes because
we think ourselves braver than them, and that we should
support the trouble better than they, according to the
good opinion we have of ourselves.
The proof of this is that ordinarily we would rather
have small troubles than let another have them ;
but
the great we wish more for others than ourselves.
Without doubt, my dear child, the repugnance we have
to the supposed exaltation of others comes from this,
that we have a self-love which tells us we should do

even better than they, and that the idea of our good
designs promises us wonders from ourselves, and not

so much from others.
Besides all this, know, my very dear child, that the
things you feel are only the dispositions of the lower
part of your soul : for I am sure that the superior
part disavows it all. It is the only remedy we have,

to disavow the dispositions, invoking obedience, and
protesting that we love it, in spite of all repugnance,
more than our own election ;praising God for the good
which one sees in others, and beseeching him to con
tinue it, and so of other ill-feelings.
We must be in no way surprised to find self-love
in us, for it never leaves us. It sleeps sometimes, like
a fox, then all of a sudden leaps on the chickens;

wherefore we must constantly keep watch on it, and
patiently and very quietly defend ourselves from it.

But if sometimes it wounds us, we are healed
by un
saying what it has made us say and disavowing what
ithas made us do.
Well, I only see casually the lady who was to come

to make her general confession, and her eyes are all
moist after leaving her daughter for the great of the
:
world leave one another in parting. Those of God not

so; they are always united together with their Saviour.
God bless you, my dear child.
LETTER XXXIII.*
To ONE OF HIS SPIRITUAL DAUGHTERS.
Effects of self-love very different from those of fraternal

charity.
Early in 1616.
WHEN will this natural love, which rests on consan

guinity,on propriety, on politeness, on similarity, on
sympathy, on amiability, be purified, and reduced
to the perfect obedience of the simple pure love of the
good pleasure of God ? When will this self-love no

longer desire exterior presence, testimonies and signs,
but will remain fully satisfied with the invariable and
immutable assurance that God gives it of his perpetuity.
What can presence add to a love which God produces,
sustains and preserves ? What marks of perseverance
* This letter corresponds, word by word, with a part of Con
ference XII.
can be required in a unity which God has created?

Distance and presence will never add anything to the
solidity of a love, which God has himself

formed.
When shall we all be steeped in gentleness and
sweetness towards our neighbour? When shall we
see the souls of our neighbour in the sacred bosom
of our Saviour ? Ah ! he who sees his neighbour
outside this, runs the risk of not loving him purely,
nor constantly, nor equally but there, in that place,;
who would not love him, who would not bear with
him? Who would not suffer his imperfections?
Who would find him ill-favoured ? Who would find
him tiresome ? Well, my dearest child, this neigh

bour is
really there on the bosom and the breast of this
amiable Saviour, and he is there so loved, and so love-

able that the lover dies of love for him, a lover whose
love is in his death, and death in his love.
LETTER XXXIV.
To A SUPERIOR OF THE VISITATION, HIS NIECE.
We must serve God at his pleasure, not our own.
I2tk Oct., 1615.
WHAT is the heart of my dearest child doing, which

mine loves in truth very perfectly ? I feel sure that
it is always closely united to that of our Lord, and

that it often says to him : The Lord is my light and
my salvation, whom shall I fear ? The Lord is the
protector of my life, of whom shall I be afraid.* My

dearest child, throw your solicitude upon the divine
shoulders of the Lord, and he will bear us and sustain
us.-f If he calls you (and he does) to a sort of service

which is according to his pleasure, though not to your
taste, you must have not less courage but more, than
if your taste agreed with his pleasure ;
for when there
is less of our own in anything it goes so much the
better.
You must not, my dear niece, my daughter, allow

your spirit to look at upon its own
itself, or to reflect
strength or its own

you mustinclinations
fix your :
eyes on the good pleasure of God and on his Provi

dence.
We must not discuss (discourir) when we ought to
run (courir) ;
nor devise (deviser) difficulties, when we
should spin them off (devidsr).

Gird your loins with strength, and fill
your heart
with courage, and then say : / will advance ; not I but
the grace of God in me.% The grace of God, then,
be ever with your spirit. Amen.
* Ps. xxvi. I, 2. f Ps. liv. 23.
J i Cor. xv, 10. Gal. vi. 18.
35 o 6V. Francis de Sales.
LETTER XXXV.
To A LADY.
We should not refrain from speaking of God when it may he use
ful. It is not hciny a hypocrite to speak better than we ant.
Advice for a person in society.
Annecy, 26th April, 1617.

I ANSWER your letter of the 1
4th, my dearest daughter,
i. Tell that dear B. Marie, who loves me so much,
and whom I love even more, to speak freely of God
\vherever she may think it will be useful, quite indif
ferent as to what those who hear her may think or say
of her. In a word, I have already told her that she
must do nothing and say nothing for the sake of
being praised, nor omit to say or do anything for fear

of being praised. And it is not to be a hypocrite not
to do as well as we speak ; for, Lord God ! where
should we be ? I should have to be silent for fear of
being a hypocrite, since if I spoke of perfection it
would follow that I should think myself perfect. No,

certainly, my dear child, I do not think myself per
fect when
I talk of perfection, any more than T think
myself an Italian when I talk Italian but I think I :
know the language of perfection, having learned it

from those with whom I have conversed, who spoke
it.
2. Tell her she may powder her hair, since her

intention is right; for the fancies she has about it are
not at all to be considered. You must not entangle
your spirit in these cobwebs. The hair of the soul
of this daughter is even more scant than that of her

head ;
this is why she embarrasses herself. We must
not be so punctilous, nor occupy ourselves with so
many reflections this is not what our Lord wants.

;
Tell her then to walk in good faith, by the middle
path of the lovely virtues of simplicity and humility ;

and not by the extremes of these subtleties of discus
sion and consideration. Let her boldly powder her
head; for even respectable pheasants powder their
plumage for fear of insects. ^
3. She need not lose the sermon, or any good
work want of saying make haste ; but let her say

for :
it gently and quietly. If she is at table, and the
Blessed Sacrament passes, let her accompany it in
spirit,
if there are other people at table with her ;
if
there is no one, she may accompany it if, without
hurry, she can get there in time ; and then let her
return quietly to take her refection for our Lord ;
did not wish that even Martha should serve him with
a troubled eagerness.
4. I have told her that she may speak strongly

and decidedly when required, to keep in order the
person she knows of ; but I have reminded her that
strength is more effective when it is quiet, and is
* We are unable to express in English the fineness of the
irony, the persuasiveness of the hidden argument, or the simplicity

Quelle poudre hardiment sa
"
of the Saint s language, tete ;
car faisans gentils poudrent lien leurs pennages, de peur que

les
les poux ne s y engendrent"

3 5 2 -SV. Francis de Sales.
allowed to spring from reason, without mixture of

passion.
5. The society of the twelve cannot be bad, for

the exercise which good but this B. M.,
it uses is ;
who wishes to have no perhaps, must suffer it here,

and must let us say, that perhaps this is a good
society ; being in no way

by any prelate, nor
certified
by any person worthy of faith, we cannot be assured

that it has been properly instituted the little book ;
which says so, alleges neither author nor witness to
prove it. Still, that is good which cannot harm and

may profit.
6. Let her practise prayer, either by points, as we
have said, or after her own custom, it matters little :
but we distinctly remember telling her just to prepare

the points, and to try at the beginning of prayer to
relish them ; if she relish them it is a sign that at
least for that time, God wants her to follow this
method. however, the sweet customary presence
If,
engages her afterwards, let her entertain it; let her

also enter into the colloquies which God himself sug
gests, and which, as she explains them to me in your
letter, are good ;

still she must sometimes also speak
to this great All, so that our nothing may do the part.
Well, you read our books, I will add nothing, save

as
to tell you to go simply, sincerely, frankly, and with

the naivete of children, sometimes in the arms of the
heavenly Father, sometimes holding his hand.

I am glad that my books have found entrance into
your soul, which was so bold as to think that it sufficed

for itself ; but they are the books of that father and
of that heart whose dear daughter you are, since it has
so pleased God, to whom be honour and glory for
ever.
LETTER XXXVI.
To A LADY.
11
We must not be surprised at spiritual coldness, provided we are
firm in our resolutions" A Servant of God.
YOUR coldness, my dearest daughter, must not sur

prise you at all, provided that you do not, on account
of it, interrupt the course of your spiritual exercises.
Ah my dearest child, tell me, was not the sweet

!
Jesus born in the heart of the cold ? And why should

he not also stay in the cold of the heart I speak of,
that cold, of which, I think, you speak ; which consists
not in any relaxing of our good resolutions, but simply
in a certain lassitude and heaviness of spirit which
makes us move with difficulty ;

but still we move in
the course in which we have placed ourselves, and from

which we will never deviate till we arrive at the port.
Is it not so, my child ?
I will go, can, for your feast, and will give you
if I
holy confirmation. Oh may I share in the spirit of

!
that saint who

has called you by his name from
your baptism, and who will confirm it in your favour
on the very day on which all the church invokes him.
A A
you on that day one or two of those divine

I will tell
words which impressed our Saviour so deeply in the

heart of his disciples. Meanwhile, live all for God ;
and for his love bear with yourself and all your
miseries.
In fine, to be a good servant of God is not to be
always consoled, always in sweetness, always without

aversion or repugnance to good, for in that case neither
St. Paula, nor St. Angela, nor St. Catharine of Sienna
would have served God well. To be a servant of God
is to be charitable to our neighbour; to have in the
superior part of the soul an inviolable resolution to

follow the will of God ;
to have a very humble hu
mility and simplicity in trusting ourselves to Almighty

God, and in getting up as often as we fall to bear ;
with ourselves in our abjections ; and quietly to bear

with others in their imperfections. For the rest, you
know well how my heart cherishes you; it is, my
dearest child, more than you could tell.
May God be
ever our all. I am, in him, all your, &c.
LETTER XXXVII.
To A LADY.
God does not give good desires without giving the means to
accomplish them.
THE marks which I have seen in your soul of a sin
cere confidence in mine, and of an ardent affection for
piety, make my heart fraternally amorous of yours.

Va rious L etters. 355
Courage then, my good child, you will see we shall

get on ; for this dear and sweet Saviour of our souls
has not given us these inflamed desires of serving him,
without giving us the chance of doing so ; without
doubt he only defers the time for accomplishing your
desires in order to choose a more suitable one ;
for
you see, my dearest daughter, this amorous heart of

our Redeemer measures and adapts all the events of
this world unto the good of the souls which, without
reserve, are willing to serve his divine love.

This good time then which you desire will come OIL
the day which this sovereign providence has named in the

secret of his mercy ; and then, with a thousand secret
consolations, you will open out your interior before his
divine goodness ;
and your rocks into
this will convert
water, your serpent into a rod, and all the thorns of
your heart into roses, and into abundant roses, which

will recreate your spirit and mine with their sweet
ness.
For it is true, my daughter, that our faults, whicli

while in our souls are thorns, are changed into roses
and perfumes when voluntary accusation drives them
out;
because while it is our malice draws them into
our hearts, it is the goodness of the Holy Spirit whicli
draws them out.
Since you have strength to rise an hour before
Matins, and make mental prayer, I approve it very
strongly. a What
happiness to be with God while no
one knows what passes between God and the heart,
except God himself and the heart which adores him.
A A 2
35 6 -SV. Francis de Sales.
I approve that you practise yourself in meditation oil
the life and Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ.

In the evening, between Vespers and supper, you
may retire, for quarter of an hour or a short half-

hour, either into your room or the church, and there,
in order to rekindle the fire of the morning, either
taking up again the same subject or taking Jesus Christ

crucified as your subject, you must make a dozen fer
vent and amorous aspirations to your beloved, always
renewing your good resolutions to be all his.

Have good courage ;
God undoubtedly calls you to
much love and perfection. He will be faithful on his
side to helpyou; be faithful on yours to follow him
and correspond with him. And as for me, my child,
be well assured that all my affections are dedicated to
your good and the service of your dear soul, which may
God will to bless for ever with his great benedictions.
I am then, in him, all
yours, &c.
LETTER XXXVIII.
To A LADY .
The Saint consoles her on her spiritual dryncss.
CERTAINLY, dear daughter, it is not that I have

my
not a heart very tender for you but I am so harassed;
by encumbrances that I cannot write when I wish,

and, again, your trouble, which is no other thing than
dryness and aridity, cannot be remedied by letter. It
is necessary personally to hear your little accidents,

and after all, patience and resignation are their only
cure : after the winter of these coldnesses the holy

summer will arrive, and we shall be consoled.
Alas my daughter, we are always attached to

!
smoothness, sweetness, and delicious consolations ; but

the rigour of dryness is more fruitful and though :
St. Peter loved Mount Thabor, and avoided Mount

Calvary, yet the latter not to be more profitable
fails
than the other; and the blood shed in the one is

better than the brightness shed over the other. Our
Lord already treats you as a brave daughter, so be
something of one. It is better to eat bread without
sugar than sugar without bread.

The disquiet and grief which are caused you by
the knowledge of your nothingness, are not desirable ;
for while the cause of it is good, the effect is not. No,

my child, for this knowledge of our nothingness
should not trouble us, but soften, humble and abase
us ;
it is which makes us become impatient
self-love
when we see ourselves vile and abject. So then I

conjure you by our common love, who is Jesus Christ,
to live quite consoled and quite tranquil in your infir
mities. / will glory in my infirmities, says our great
St. Paul, that the strength of my Saviour may dwell
in me;* misery serves as a throne for
yes, for our
the sovereign goodness of our Lord.
I wish you a thousand blessings. O Lord, bless
the heart of my dearest child, and make it burn as a
* 2 Cor. xii.
9.
*$"/. Francis de Sales.
holocaust of sweetness unto the honour of your love !
May she seek no other contentment than yours, nor

require other consolation than to be perfectly con
secrated to your glory May Jesus be for ever in the
!
midst of this heart, and this heart for ever in the

midst of Jesus! May Jesus live in this heart, and
this heart in Jesus !
LETTER XXXIX.
To A LADY.
The will of God gives a great value to the least actions. We must
love nothing too ardently, even virtues.
MADAM, MY DEAREST SISTER, You see me in readiness-
to write to you, and I know not what, except to tell you

to walk always gaily in this all-heavenly way in which
God has placed you. I will bless him all my life for
the graces he has prepared you ; prepare him, on your
side, as an acknowledgment, great resignations, and

courageously lead your heart to the execution of the
things you know he wants from you, in spite of all
kinds of contradictions which might oppose themselves
to this.
Regard not at all the substance of the things you do,

but the honour they have, however trifling they may
he, to be willed by God, to be in the order of his
providence, and disposed by his wisdom; in a word,

being agreeable to God, and recognised as such, to
whom can they be disagreeable ?
Be attentive, my dearest child, to make

yourself
every day more pure of heart. This purity consists
in estimating and weighing all things in the balance
of the sanctuary, which is nothing else but the will
of God.
Love nothing too much, not even virtues, which
are lost sometimes by passing the bounds of modera
tion. I do not know whether you understand me,
but I think so : I refer to your desires, your ardours.
It is not the property of roses to be white, I think;
for the red are lovelier and of sweeter smell ; but it
is the property of lilies.
Let us be what we are, and let us be it well, to do

honour to the Master whose work we People are.
laughed at the painter, who wishing to represent a

horse, painted a perfect bull ; the work was fine in
itself, but of little credit to the workman, who had

another design, and had done well by chance.
Let us be what God likes, so long as we are his,
and let us not be what we want to be, if against his
intention ;
for if we were the most excellent creatures
under heaven, what would it profit us if we were not
according to the pleasure of God s will ?
Perhaps I repeat this too much ;

but I will not say
itso often again, as our Lord has already strengthened
you much in this point.

Do me this pleasure, to letthe subject of me know
your meditations for the present year. I shall be
charmed to know it, and also the fruit they produce

in you. Rejoice in our Lord, my dear sister, and
keep your heart in peace. I salute your husband,

and am for ever, Madam, &c.
LETTER XL.
To MADEMOISELLE DE TRAVES.
The Saint removes two scruples which she had.
4.th July, 1620.
IT the truth that not only are you my very dear
is
daughter, but it is the truth that every day you are

more so in my love. And, God be praised because
he has not only created in my heart an affection for
you really more than paternal, but also because he
has placed in your heart the assurance you ought to
have of this. And, indeed, my dearest daughter,
when in writing to me you say sometimes, your
dearest daughter loves you, and when you speak
to me in that quality, I confess that I receive
an excellent satisfaction from it. Believe it, and say
truly, I pray you, that you are assuredly my dearest
child, and never doubt it. What you said to save a

little temporal good was not but only an a lie,
inadvertence, so that at most

could only be there
a venial sin, and as you describe the case to me,
there would even seem to be no sin at all, as
there was no question of injustice to your neighbour.^
*
The Saint does not say that a lie would be no sin if it did no
liarm to our neighbour, but that we might plead inadvertence with
more probability, when there was no question of serious conse
quences. (Translator s Note.)

Make no scruple, either little or great,, in com

municating before holy Mass, above all where there is
so good a cause as you mention ; but even if there

were not, still there would not be the merest shadow
of sin.
And keep your soul always in your hands, my

dearest daughter, to
preserve it well for him who
having ransomed it for you alone deserves to possess
it.
May he be for ever blessed Amen. Truly !
I am
very faithfully yours him, and the very
in
humble servant of yourself, and of your dear sister,
and of all your house.
LETTER XLI.
To A LADY.
Merit of the services which we pay God in desolations

and drynesses.
2oth September, 1621.
IT has been a very sweet consolation to have news of
your soul, my dearest daughter; of your soul, I say,

which in all truth mine cherishes very singularly.
The trouble you have to put yourself in prayer will

not lessen the value of it before God, who prefers the
services we pay him amid interior or exterior contra
dictions to those we give him amid sweetnesses; since

he himself, to make us agreeable to his Eternal Father,
has reconciled us to his Majesty in his blood, in his
labours, in his death.

And be not astonished if you do not yet see in your

selfmuch progress, either in your spiritual or your
temporal affairs all trees, my dearest daughter, do
:
not produce their fruit in the same season; yea, those

which have the best are also longest in bringing them
forth, and the palm-tree, it is said, takes one hundred
years.
God has hidden in the secret of his Providence the
mark of the time when he means to hear you, and the
way in hear you ; and perhaps he will
which he will
hear you excellently, not according to your thoughts,

but his own. So repose in peace, my dearest daughter,
in the paternal arms of the most loving care which
the sovereign Heavenly Father has and will have of
you, since you are his, and no longer your own.

For in this I have my chiefest sweetness, in remem
bering the day in which, prostrate at the feet of his
mercy, after your confession, you dedicated to him
your person and your life, to remain, in everything and
everywhere, humbly and filially submissive to his most
holy will. So be it, my dearest daughter; I am uni
versally your, &c.

P.S. O my God, dearest child, how many different
ways has this eternal Providence of gratifying his own!

Oh what a great favour is it when he preserves and
!
keeps his gratifications for eternal life ! I have said

this word to finish and fill
up the page. May God
ever be our all. Amen.
LETTER XLII.
Answers to questions on the truths of Faith.
28 th November, 1621.
THE truths of the faith, my dearest child, are some
times agreeable to the human
spirit, not only because
God has revealed them by his word, and proposed them
by his Church, but also because they suit our taste,
and because we enter into them thoroughly, we un
derstand them easily, and they are according to our
inclinations. As, for example, that there is a Paradise
after this mortal life, this is a truth of faith which
many hold much to their satisfaction, because it is
sweet and desirable. That God is merciful the greatest
part of the world finds to be a very good thing, and

easily believes, because even philosophy
teaches us
this ; it is conformable to our taste and to our desire.
Now, all the truths of faith are not of this kind ;
as, for example, that there is an eternal hell for the
punishment of the wicked, this is a truth of faith,

but a bitter, terrifying, fearful truth, and one which
we do not believe willingly, except by the force of God s
word.
And now I say, firstly, that naked and simple faith
is that by which we believe the truths of faith, without
considering any pleasure, sweetness, or consolation, we

may have in them, but solely by the acquiescence of
our spirit in the authority of the word of God, and
364 S Francis de Sales.
the proposition of the Church and thus we believe

:
no less the terrifying truths than the sweet and agree

able truths and then our faith is naked, because it is
:
not clothed with any sweetness or any relish ; it is
simple, because it is not mingled with any satisfaction

of our own feelings.
Secondly, there are truths of faith which we can

apprehend by the imagination ; as that our Lord was
born in the manger of Bethlehem, that he was carried
into Egypt, that he was crucified, that he went up to
heaven. There are others, which we cannot at all
grasp with the imagination, as the truth of the Most

Holy Trinity, Eternity, the presence of our Lord s
body in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Eucharist :
for all these truths are true in away which is incon

ceivable to our imagination, since we cannot imagine
how these things can be. Still, our understanding
believes them firmly and simply, on the sole assurance
it has of the word of God and this

: faith is truly
naked, for it is divested of all imagination ; and it is
entirely simple, because it has no sort of action except

the action of our understanding, which purely and
simply embraces these truths on the sole security of

God s word. This faith, thus naked and simple, is that
which the saints have practised and do practise amid
sterilities, drynesses, distrusts, and darknesses.
To live in truth, and not in untruth, is to lead a
lifeentirely conformed to naked and simple faith, ac
cording to the operations of grace and not of nature ;
because our imagination, our senses, our feeling, our

taste, our consolations, our arguments, maybe deceived

and may err; and to live according to them is to live
in untruth, or at least in a perpetual risk of untruth ;
but to live in naked and simple faith, this is to live
in truth.
So it is said of the wicked spirit, that lie abode not

in the truth* because having had faith in the begin
ning of his creation, he quitted wishing to argue,
it,
without the faith, about his own excellence, and wish

ing to make himself his end, not according to naked
and simple faith, but according to natural conditions,
which carried him on to an extravagpnt and irregular
love of himself. This is the lie in which live all those
who do not adhere withsimplicity and nudity of faith

to the word of God, but wish to live according to
human prudence, which is no other than an ants nest

of lies and vain arguments.
This is what I think
good to say to you on your two
questions.
LETTER XLIII.
To A LADY.
Of piety in the midst of Afflictions.
Annecy, 28th April, 1622.

MAY it
please the Holy Spirit to inspire me with what
I have to write to you, Madam, and, if you please,
* John viii. 44.

dearest daughter. To live constantly in devotion there

is only need to establish in our mind strong and ex
cellent maxims.
The first to establish in yours is that of St. Paul.
To them that love God, all things work together unto

good* And in truth, since God can and does draw
good from evil, for whom will he do so if not for those

who, without reserve, have given themselves to him ?
Yes, even sins (from which God by his goodness de
fend us !) are overruled by Divine Providence, unto the
good of those who are his. Never would David have

been so crowned with humility if he had not sinned,
nor Magdalen so amorous of her Saviour if he had not
forgiven her so many sins, and he would not have for
given them, if she had not committed them.
Behold, my dear daughter, this great craftsman
(artisan) of mercy ; he alters our miseries into graces,

and makes the salutary tlieriacum\ of our souls from
the viper of our iniquities. Tell me, then, what will
he not do with our afflictions, with our labours, with

the persecutions used against us? If then it ever
happens that any pain touches you, from any quarter

whatever, assure your soul that if it truly loves God,
all unto good.
will turn And though this good " "
works by springs which you do not see, remain all the

more assured that it will come. If God puts the clay
of ignominy on your eyes, it is to give you excellent
* Bom. viii. 28.
f A
medicine in which one of the ingredients was the head of
the viper. It was used against poisons.
sight,and to make you a spectacle of honour. If

God lets you fall down, like St. Paul, whom he struck
to the earth, it is to lift you up into glory.
The second maxim is, that he is your Father : for
otherwise, he would not order you to say : Our Father,

who art in heaven. And what
have you to fear, who
are daughter of such a father, without whose provi
dence not a single hair of your head shall perish. It
is a marvel that being child of such a father, we have

or can have other care than to love and serve him
well. Take the pains he would have you take about
your person and your family, and no more for you ;
will see that he will have care of you. Think in me,

he said to St. Catharine of Sienna (whose feast we keep
to day) and I will think in thee. 0, Eternal Father!
says the wise Man, your providence governs all*

The third maxim you must have is that which our
Lord taught to his Apostles. Did gou want any
thing ?f Look, my dear daughter; our Lord had sent
his Apostles up and down, without money, without
staff, without shoes, without scrip, with but one coat,
and afterwards he said to them, When I sent you so,
did you want anything ? But they said :

nothing.
And now, my when you have had afflictions,
child,
even in the time when you had not so much confi
dence in God, did you perish in the affliction ? You
will tell me : no. And why then will you not have
courage to come safely out of all other adversities?

God has not abandoned you up to now, will he
* Wisdom xiv. 3. f Luke xxii. 35.
abandon you from this time, when more than formerly

you would be his? Fear not future evils of this
world, for perhaps they will never happen ;
and in
any they do happen, God will strengthen you.
case, if
He ordered St. Peter to walk on the waters, and St.
Peter, seeing the wind and the storm, was afraid, and
the fear made him sink, and he begged help from his
master, who said to him Man of little faith, why didst
:
thou doubt ?* And giving his hand he reassured him.

If God makes you walk on the waves of adversity,
doubt not, my child ; fear not, God is with you ;
have
good courage, and you shall be delivered.

The fourth maxim is eternity. Little matters it
what I am in these passing moments, if I am eternally

in the glory of my God. My child, we move towards
eternity, we have almost already one of our feet
therein our eternity be happy, what matters

;
if it
that these transitory moments be burdensome ? Is it
possible for us to know that our tribulations of three

or four days work such a weight of eternal consola
tions, and to be unwilling to bear them ? In fine, my

dearest daughter,
What is not for eternity,

Can nothing be but vanity.
The fifth maxim is that of the Apostle : God forbid

that I should glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus
Christ. f Plant in your heart Jesus Christ crucified,
and all the crosses of this world will seem roses to
* Mat. xiv.
31. t Gal vi. 14.
you. Those who are pricked with the thorns of the

crown of our Lord who is our head, scarcely feel
other thorns.
You will find all I have said to you in the 3rd, 4th
(or 5th), and last books of the Love of God. You
will find many things about it in the Sinners Guide
(the large one) of Granada. I must conclude, for I

am pressed for time. Write to me with confidence,
and point out to me what you think I can do for your
heart, and mine will give it very affectionately ; for I
am, in all truth, Madame, your, &c.
LETTER XLIV.
To A LADY.
Purity of Christian friendships : God is their bo?id. The world is
insipid to those who love God. Humility must supply the

want oj courage.
MY GOD, dearest daughter, how I love your heart

since it wishes to love nothing but its Jesus and for
its Jesus Alas
! could it possibly be that a soul
!
which considers this Jesus crucified for her, should

loê anything outside him ? Could it be that after so
many true movements of

fidelity, which have so often
made us say, write, sing, breathe and sigh, Vive Jesus !
we should will, like Jews, to cry out Let him be :
crucified, let him be killed in our hearts ? O God !
my child, I say very true child, how strong shall we

be if we continue to keep ourselves united to one
B B
37 SV Francis de Sales.
another by this cord dyed in the crimson blood of

our Saviour For no one will attack your heart
!
without finding from you, and from

resistance my
heart, which is quite dedicated to yours.
I have seen it, this wretched letter. The wicked,
says David, have told me their fables, but not as your
law* O God how !

insipid is this compared with the
sacred divine love which lives in our hearts !
You are right ; as once for all you have declared

the invariable resolutions of your soul, and he pre
tends not to be willing to acknowledge them, do not
answer a single word until he speaks otherwise; for
he does not understand the language of the cross, nor
we that of hell.
You do well also to receive these few words I say to
you with tenderness of love : for the affection I have for
you is greater and stronger than yon would ever think.

You are glad that the troublesome girl has left
you : a soldier must have gained much in the war,
when he is very glad of peace. We shall never have

perfect sweetness and charity, if they are not practised
amid repugnances, aversions, and disgusts. True
peace does not lie in not fighting but in conquering :
the conquered fight no longer, yet they have not true
peace. Well, we must greatly humble ourselves for
being still so little masters of ourselves, and so much

lovers of ease and rest.
The child who is about to be born for us is not

come to rest himself, nor to have his conveniences^
*
Ps. cxviii. 85.
either spiritual or temporal, but to fight, to mortify

himself, and to die. So, then, henceforward, since we
have not courage, let us at least have humility.
I will see you soon keep quite ready on the
; tip of
your tongue what you will have to say to me, so that,

however little leisure we have, you may be able to pour
it out into my soul meantime, press closely this divine
:
baby to your heart, that you may, with that soul, ine
briated with heavenly love, breathe forth these sacred
words of love: My beloved to me, and I to him. He
shall abide between my breasts.^
So, my dearest daughter, may this divine love of
our hearts be for ever on our breast, to inflame and

consume us by his grace ! Amen.
LETTER XLV.
The Saint exhorts her to live in a great conformity with

our Lord.
MY DEAREST SISTER, I am writing just to wish you

good-night, and to keep you in assurance that I do
not cease wishing a thousand thousand
heavenly
blessings to you, and to my brother
but particularly
;
that of being ever transfigured in our Lord. Oh !
how lovely is his face, and his eyes, how mild and
wondrous in sweetness, and how good is it to be with
him on the mount of glory ! It is there, my dear
* Cant. i. 12.
B B 2
sister,, my child, thatwe ought to lodge our desires

and our affections, not on this earth, where there are
but vain beauties and beautiful vanities. Well, now,
thanks to this Saviour, we are on the slope of Mount
Thabor, as we have firm resolutions to serve and love
fully his divine goodness; we must then encourage
ourselves to a holy hope. Let us ascend ever, my
dearest sister, let us ascend without growing tired to
this heavenly vision of the Saviour; let us withdraw
ourselves, little by little, from earthly and base affec
tions, and aspire after the happiness which is prepared

for us.
I conjure you, my dear child, to beseech our Lord
earnestly for me, that he would keep me henceforth in

the paths of his will, that I may serve him in sincerity
and fidelity. Look, my dear child, I desire either to
die or to love God, either death or love for life that
:
is without this love, is infinitely worse than death.
My God ! dearest child, how happy shall we be, if we

love well this sovereign goodness, which prepares us so
many favours and benedictions.
Let us belong entirely to it, my dearest child, amid
the many trials which the diversity of worldly things
causes us. How would we better testify our fidelity
than amid contrarieties ! Ah !
my dearest child, my
sister, solitude has its dangers, the world has its snares,
but everywhere we must have good courage, since
everywhere the help of heaven is ready for those who

have confidence in God, and who, with humility and
sweetness, implore his paternal assistance.
Be on your guard not to let your carefulness turn

to solicitude and anxiety and though you are tossed
;
on the waves and amid the winds of many troubles,

always look up to heaven, and say to our Lord O :
God, it is for you I voyage and sail : be my guide,

and my pilot. Then comfort yourself in this, that
when we are in port, the delights we shall have there
will outbalance the labours endured in getting there.
But we are on our way there, amid all these storms, if
we have a right heart, good intention, firm courage^

our eyes on God, and in him all our trust.
And if the violence of the tempest sometimes disturbs
our stomach, and makes our head swim a little, let us
not be surprised ; but, as soon as ever we can, let us
take breath again, and encourage ourselves to do better.
You continue to walk in our good resolutions, I ana
sure. Be not troubled, then, at these little attack^
of disquiet and annoyance which the multiplicity of
domestic affairs causes you no, my dearest child, for
;
this serves as an exercise to practise those most dear

and lovely virtues which our Lord has recommended
us. Believe me, true virtue does not thrive in exterior
repose, anymore than good fish in the stagnant waters

of a marsh. Vive Jesus
374 St* Francis de Sales.
LETTER XLVI.
To THE SAME.
The Saint exhorts her to communicate often, and to abandon
herself to Providence in contradiction.
MAY our Lord take away your heart as he did that of

the devout St. Catharine of Sienna (whose feast we keep
to-day), to give you his own most divine, so that you may
live solely by his holy love. What a happiness, my dearest
some day, in coming from Holy Communion,
sister, if
I found my weak and miserable heart out of my breast,

and established in its stead the precious heart of my
God !
But, my dearest child, since we ought not to
desire things so extraordinary, at least will I that our.
poor hearts should henceforward live only under the

obedience and commandments of the Lord this will :
be quite enough, my dear sister, to imitate profitably

in this point St. Catharine ; and then we shall be
gentle, humble and charitable, since the heart of our
Saviour has no laws more dear to it than those of gen
tleness, humility, and charity.
You will be very happy, my dearest sister, my
child, if amid all these follies of personal attachments,
you live all in yourself, and all for God, who indeed
alone merits to be served and followed with passion ;
for thus doing, my dear sister, you will give good ex
ample to all, and will gain holy peace and tranquillity

for yourself. Let others, I beg you, philosophize
about the reason you have for communicating for it :
is enough that your conscience, that you and I, know

that this diligence in often looking over and repairing
your soul, is greatly required for the preservation of
it.
you wish to give account of it to some one,
If
you may well say that you need to eat this divine
food so often because you are very weakly, and with
out this refreshment, your spirit would easily faint
away. Meanwhile, continue, my dearest sister, to
clasp closely to your breast this dear Saviour. Let

him be a lovely and sweet nosegay on your heart, in
such sort that every one who approaches you may
smell that you are perfumed, and know that your
odour is the odour of myrrh.
Keep your soul in peace, notwithstanding these
disquieting things round about you. Submit to the

most secret providence of God what you find hard,
and firmly believe that he will sweetly conduct you,
your life, and all your affairs.
Do you know what shepherds of Arabia do
the
when they see lighten and thunder, and see the air
it
charged with thunderbolts ? They withdraw under

laurels, themselves and their flocks. When we see
that persecutions or contradictions threaten us with
some great pain, we must withdraw, ourselves and our
affections,under the holy cross, by a sweet confidence

that all things work together unto good to them that
love God.*
So then, my dearest child, my sister, keep your

heart entirely recollected in peace ; keep yourself
* Bora. viii. 28.
carefully from worry ; often throw your confidence on

the providence of our Lord. Be quite certain that
rather will heaven and earth pass away, than our Lord
be wanting to your protection so long as you are his
obedient child, or at least desirous to obey. Two or
three times a-day think whether your heart is not dis
quieted about something ; and finding that it is so

try at once to put it back in repose. Adieu, my
dearest child. May God ever be in the midst of your
heart. Amen.
LETTER XL VII.
To A LADY.
The means to ~be all to God is to crucify our strongest
inclinations.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, Now what shall I say to you ?
Many things, without doubt, if I wished to follow my

affections, which are always full for you, as I desire
that yours be full for me, above all when you are in
the little oratory. I beseech you there to pour them
forth before God for my amendment ;
as on my part
I pour forth, not mine,which are unworthy, on ac
count of the heart whence they come, but the blood
of the Immaculate Lamb before the Eternal Father,
for the good intention you have of being all his.
What happiness, my dear mother, to be all his, who,
to make us his, made himself all ours ! But for this
it isnecessary to crucify in us all our affections, and

specially those which are more strong and active, by
a continual slackening and tempering of the actions

which proceed from them, that they may be done not
with impetuosity, nor even by our own will, but by
the will of the Holy Spirit.
Above all, my dear mother, we need a kind, sweet
and loving heart towards our neighbour, and particu
larly when he is burdensome and displeasing to us ;
for then we have nothing to love in him but his
relation to our Saviour, which, without any doubt,
makes love more and worthy, inasmuch as
excellent
it is more pure and free from transitory conditions.
I pray our Lord to increase in you his holy love.
I am, in him, your, &c.
LETTER XLVIII.
God regards us with love, provided that we have good will. Our
imperfections must neither astonish nor discourage us.
IT would have been to me a consolation beyond com

pare to see you all when I passed by ;
but God not
having willed it, I could not will it. And meanwhile,
my dearest daughter, I very willingly read your letters
and answer them.
Our Blessed Lady knows, dearest child, whether
her son thinks of you, and regards you with love !
Yes, my dearest daughter, he thinks of you and not ;
only of you, but of the least hair of your head : this is

an article of faith, and we may not have the least
doubt of it : but of course I know well you do not

doubt of ; you only express thus the aridity, dry-
it
ness, and insensibility in which the lower portion of
your soul finds itself now. Indeed the Lord is in this
place and I knew it not* said Jacob that :

is, I did
not perceive it, I had no feeling of it, it seemed not
so to me. I have spoken of this in the book of the
Love of God, treating of the death of the soul and of
resignations; I do not remember in what book.f And
you can have no doubt whether God regards you with
love for he regards lovingly the most horrible sinners
;
in the world on the least true desire they have of con

version. And tell me, my dearest child, have you not
the intention of being God s ? Do you not want to
serve him faithfully ? And who gives you this desire
and this intention, if not himself in his loving regard
for you ? The way isnot to examine whether your
heart pleases him, but whether his heart pleases you ;
and if you look at his heart, it will be impossible for

it not to please you ; for it is a heart so gentle, so
sweet, so condescending, soamorous of poor creatures,
if only they acknowledge their misery ; so gracious
towards the miserable, so good to penitents And !
who would not love this royal heart, paternally mater

nal towards us?
You say rightly, my dearest child, that these temp
tations come because your heart is without tender
ness towards God : for it is true that if you had tender
ness you would have consolation, and if you had con-
*
Gen. xxviii. 16. t Book ix.
solation you would no "longer

be in trouble. But,
my daughter, the love of God does not consist in
consolation, nor in tenderness : otherwise our Lord
would not have loved his Father when he was sorrow
ful unto death, and cried out :
My Father, my Father,
why hast thou forsaken me 1* and it was exactly then
that he made the greatest act of love it is possible to
imagine.
In fact, we would always wish to have a little
consolation and sugar on our food, that is, to have

the feeling of love and tenderness, and consequently
consolation ; and similarly we would greatly wish to
be without imperfection ; but, my dearest child, we
must patiently continue to be of human nature and
not angelic.
Our imperfections must not give us pleasure ;
indeed we should say with the holy Apostle :

Unhappy
man that I am : who shall deliver me from the body of
this deatht But they must
.
?
neither astonish us nor
take away our courage ; we must, indeed, draw from
them submission, humility, and distrust of ourselves,
but not discouragement, nor affliction of heart, and
much less distrust of the love of God towards us. So
God does not love our imperfections and venial sins,
but he much loves us in spite of them. So again, as
the weakness and infirmity of the child displeases the
mother, and still not only does she not cease to love
it,but even loves it tenderly and with compassion in ;
the same way, though God does not love our impcr-
* Mat. xxvi.
38. f Rom. vii. 24.
380 .5V. Francis de Sales.
fections and venial sins, he does not cease to love us
tenderly ; so David had reason to say to our

that
Lord : Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I am weak.*
Well, now, that
is enough,
my dearest daughter ;
livejoyous, our Lord regards you, and regards you
with love, and with as much more tenderness as
you have more infirmity. Never let your spirit
voluntarily nourish thoughts contrary to this; and

when they come do not regard them in themselves ;
turn your eyes from their iniquity, and turn them
back towards God with a courageous humility, to
speak to him of his ineffable goodness, with which
he loves our failing, poor and abject human nature,
in spite of its infirmities.
Pray for my soul, my dearest child, and recommend

me to your dear novices, all of whom I know, except
Sister Colin.
I am entirely yours in our Lord. May he live for
ever and ever (pour tout jamais) in our hearts ! Amen.
LETTER XLIX.
To A LADY.
A Confessor mayfor various reasons withdraw frequmt communion
from certain persons ; this privation must ~be borne with a
humble obedience, to make it advantageous.
You have by this time, my dearest daughter, my

answer to the letter which N. brought me ;
and here
* Ps. vi. 3.
is the answer to yours of the I4th of January. You

have done well to obey your Confessor, whether he
has withdrawn from you the consolation of communi
cating often in order to try you, or whether he has

done it because you did not take sufficient care
to correct your impatience. I think he has done
it for both motives, and that you ought to persevere
in this patience as long as he orders you, since
you have every reason to believe that he does nothing

without proper consideration and if you obey
;
humbly, one communion will be more useful in
its effect than two or three otherwise. For there is
nothing which makes meat so profitable as to take it

with appetite and after exercise the delay will :
give you a greater appetite, and the exercise you will
take in mortifying your impatience will reinvigorate
your spiritual stomach.

Meanwhile, humble yourself gently, and often make
an act of love of your own abjection. Remain some
what in the attitude of the Chanansean Yes, Lord, :
I am not worthy to eat the bread of the children* if
I am truly a dog that snarl at and bite

my neighbour
without cause by my words of impatience. But
if the dogs do not eat the bread, at least they have
the crumbs from their master s table. So, O my

sweet master ! not your body, at least the
I beg, if
benedictions which it sheds on those who approach it

with love. These are the sentiments you might have,
* Mat. xv. 26.

my dearest daughter, on the days when you were

wont to communicate and do not.
The feeling you have of being all God s is not
a deceitful one ;
but it requires that you should
occupy yourself a little more in the exercise of virtues,

and have a special care to acquire those in which you
find yourself most wanting. Read again the Spiritual
Combat) and give a special attention to the teachings
therein it will be
:
very useful to you.
The sentiments we feel in prayer are good ; but
still we must not so delight in them as not diligently
to employ ourselves in virtues and the mortification

of the passions. I pray ever for the good mother of
the dear daughters. And, indeed, since you are
in the way of prayer, and the good Carmelite mother
helps you, it is sufficient. I recommend myself to her
prayers and yours ;

and am, without end or reserve,
very perfectly yours. Vive Jesus. Amen.
LETTER L.
To A LADY.
The Saint exhorts her to fidelity in her spiritual exercises and

the practice of virtue. How we are to treat our heart when
it has committed a fault.
MADAM,- I truly and greatly desire that when you

expect to gainany consolation by writing to me, you
should do so with confidence. must join these We
two things together an extreme affection for prac

:
tising our exercises very exactly, whether of prayer or

virtues, and a not being troubled or disquieted or
astonished if we happen to commit a fault in them ;
for the first point depends on our fidelity, which ought

always to be entire, and grow from hour to hour
;
the
second comes from our infirmity, which we can never
put off during this mortal life.

My dearest daughter, when faults happen to us,
let us examine our heart at once, and ask it if it has

not still living and entire the resolution of serving
God ;
and I hope it will answer us yes, and that it
would rather suffer a thousand deaths than withdraw

itself from this resolution.
Thereupon let us ask it :

why then do you now
fail, why are you so cowardly ? It will answer : I
have been surprised, I know not how ;

but I am now
fallen, like this.
Well, my child, it must be forgiven ;

not by
it is
infidelity it falls, it is
by infirmity; it needs then to be
corrected gently and calmly, and not to be more
vexed and troubled. We ought to say to it : Well
now, my heart, my friend, in the name of God take
courage, let us go on, let us beware of ourselves, let

us lift ourselves up to our help and our God. Ah !
yes, my dear daughter,

we must be charitable towards
our soul, and not scold it, so long as we see that it
does not offend of set purpose.

You see, in this exercise we practise holy humility ;
what we do for our salvation is done for the service

of God ; for our Lord himself has worked out in this

world only our salvation. Do not desire the battle,
but await it with firm foot. May our Lord be your
strength. I am, in him, your, &c.
LETTER LI.
Consignations on the death of the Blessed Virgin.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, I was considering last evening,

according to the weakness of my spiritual eyes, this
Queen dying of a last attack of a fever dearer than all
health the fever of love, which, drying up her heart,

at last inflames it, burns it and consumes it, in such
way that it gives up its holy spirit, which goes

straight away into the hands of her son. Ah !
may
this holy Virgin deign to make us live by her prayers
in this holy love !
May it be for ever the most
unique object of our heart. May our union for ever
give glory to the love of God, which bears the sacred

name of Unitive !
I have the happiest of birthdays, my dearest
mother, in having been born into this world on

the day when the most
holy Virgin, }
our Queen
appeared in heaven, in gilded clothing, surrounded with
variety.* Thus we shall speak on Sunday, the day
on which I was born, and which has this glory, that
* Ps. xliv. 10.
it was during the octave of great Assumption. this
Ah, God dearest mother, how entirely would I

!
hollow out our heart before this exalted Lady, that

it may please her to fill it with that overflowing dew
of Hermon, which distils on all sides from her holy

plenitude of graces.
O how absolute and sovereign is the perfection
of this dove, in comparison of which we are ravens \
Ah ! Amid the deluge of our miseries, I have

wished that she should find the olive branch of holy
love, of purity, of sweetness, of prayer
to carry
it back sign of peace

in her dear to
dove-spouse,
to her Noe. Vive Jesus, vive Marie, the support of
my life ! Amen.
LETTER LIL
To A LADY.
We must support with patience our own imperfections. Advice

on meditation. The judgments of the world.
MADAM, MY DEAREST SISTER, I see you ever languish

ing with the desire of a greater perfection. I praise
this longing, for it delays you not, I well know on ; the
contrary, it excites and goads you on to acquire what

you want.
You live, you tell me, with a thousand imperfec
tions. It is true, my good sister, but do you not try
from hour to hour to make them die in you ? It is
a certain truth that so long as we are here encom-

c c
passed with this heavy and corruptible body, tjiere is

always in us a something wanting, I know not what.
I am
not sure whether I have said to you that it is
necessary to have patience with all the world, and

firstly with ourselves. We are more troublesome to
ourselves than any one else is to us, as soon as we

are able to distinguish between the old and the new
Adam, the interior and the exterior man.
Well you say you always have your book in your
;
hand for meditation otherwise you do nothing.

;
What does that matter? Whether book in hand,

and reading a little at a time, or without book, what
difference ? When I said you were only to take half
an hour, it was in the beginning, when I was afraid
of hurting your imagination ; but now, there is no
danger in employing an hour.
On the day of communion, there is no danger in
doing sorts of good things or in working

all there ;
would be more in doing nothing. In the primitive

Church, where communicated every day, think
all
you. that therefore they kept their arms folded ? And

St. Paul, who said Holy Mass habitually, nevertheless
gained his sustenance by the work of his hands.
From two things only must we keep ourselves on
the day of ce/nmunion : from sin, and from delights

and pleasures eagerly sought out (recherches). As to
those which are of duty, or required, or necessary, or
taken in an honest spirit of condescension to others,
these are not on that day on the con
at all forbidden ;
trary, they are counselled, under the condition of

observing a gentle and holy modesty. No, I would

not abstain from going to an innocent feast or party
(assemblee) on that day, if I was invited, though I

would not seek it out.
You ask me if those who wish to live with some

perfection can see so
much of the world. Perfection,
my dear lady, does not lie in not seeing the world,
but in not tasting or relishing it. All that the sight
brings us is danger ; who

for he sees it is in some
peril of loving
it : but he who is fully resolved and
determined, not harmed by the sight.
is In a word,
my sister, the perfection of charity is the perfection

of life ;
for the life of our soul is charity. Our first
Christians were of the world in body and not in heart,

and failed not to be very perfect. My dear sister, 1
would wish no pretence in us, no pretence in the
proper sense of the word. Sincerity (rondeur) and

simplicity are our great virtues.
But I am vexed, you say, about the incorrectjudg

ments made of me ;
I do no good, and am thought
to do some : and you ask me a remedy. This is it,
my dear child, as the saints have taught it me if the :
world despises us, let us be glad ; for it is right we

know that we are fit to be despised : if it esteems us,
let us despise its esteem and its judgment, for it is
blind. Trouble yourself little about what the world
thinks, put yourself in no anxiety about it, despise its
esteem and its disesteem (son prix et son mepris), and

let it say what it likes, good or ill.
So I do not approve that we should commit a fault,

C 2
to give a bad opinion of ourselves ; this would be to

err, and to make our neighbour err. On the con
on our Lord, we
trary, I wish that keeping our eyes
should do our works without regarding what the
world thinks about them nor what view it takes of
them. We may avoid giving a good opinion of self,
but not seek to give a bad one, especially by faults,

committed on purpose. In a word, despise almost
equally whichever opinion the world will have of you,
and put yourself in no trouble about it. To say that
we are not what the world thinks, when it thinks well
of you is good ; for the world is an impostor, it
always
says too much, either in good or evil.
But what, again, do you say ? That you envy
others whom I prefer to you? And the worst is that
you say you know well I prefer them. How do you

know it well, my In what do I prefer
dear sister?
others ? No, believe me, you are dear and very dear
to me; and I well know that you do not prefer others
to me, though you ought to do so ; but I am speaking
to you in confidence.
Our two sisters, who are in the country, have more
need of assistance than you who are in the town,
where you abound in exercises, in counsel, and in all
that is needful, while they have no one to help them.
And as to our sister Du N. Do you not see that

she alone, not having the inclination to accept those
is
whom our father proposes to her? And our father

does not like those whom we
propose ; for according to
what she writes to me, our father cannot approve the
choice of M. Vardot. Do I not owe more compassion

to this poor crucified one than to you, who, thanks to
God, have so many advantages ?
LETTER LIII.
To A LADY.
The remedy for calumny is not to trouble ourselves about it.
Advice on Confession.
MY DEAREST SISTER, I have not had the pleasure of

seeing Monsieur N., but I am not ignorant that you
have been afflicted on account of certain libels which
have appeared yonder, and I should much wish always
to bear your troubles and labours, or at least to help
you to bear them. But since the distance of our resi

dences does not allow me to help you in any other
way, I beseech our Lord to be the protector of your
heart and to banish therefrom all inordinate grief.
Truly, my dearest sister, the greater part of our ills

are rather imaginary than real. Do you think the
world believes these libels ? It is possible that some
take an interest about them, and that others imbibe
some suspicion but know, that your soul being good
;
and truly resigned into the hands of our Lord, all

attacks of this sort vanish into air like smoke ;
and
the more wind there is, the quicker they disappear.
The harm of calumny is never so well cured as by
appearing not to feel it, by despising contempt, and

showing by our firmness that we are beyond attack,
39Q St. Francis de Sales.
principally in the case of a libel of this kind : for a
calumny, which has neither father nor mother willing

to acknowledge it, shows that it is illegitimate.
Now, my dearest sister, I want to tell you a saying

of St. Gregory to an afflicted bishop Ah ! said he,:
if your heart was in heaven, the winds of earth would

not ruffle it at all ; he who has renounced the world, can
be harmed by nothing that belongs to the world. Throw
yourself at the feet of the crucifix,and see how many
injuries He receives: beseech him, by the meekness with
which he received them, to give you strength to bear
these little evil reports which, as to his sworn servant,
have fallen to your lot. Blessed are the poor, for they
shall be rich in heaven, that kingdom belonging to
them and blessed are the injured and calumniated, for

:
they shall be honoured of God.

As to the rest of your letter : the annual review
of our souls is made, as you understand, to supply
the defects of ordinary confessions, to provoke and
strengthen by exercise a more profound humility, but

especially to renew, not good purposes, but good reso
lutions. These we must apply as remedies to the in
clinations, habits, and other sources of our trespasses,
to which we find ourselves most subject.
Now, it would indeed be more suitable to make this
review before him who had received our general con
fession, in order that by the consideration and reference

of the preceding life to the following life, we might
better take the requisite resolutions; that would be more
desirable; but the souls which, like you, have not this
convenience, may make use of some other confessor,

the most discreet and wise they can find.
To your second difficulty I answer, my dearest sister,
that there is no need whatever in your review to signify
in particular the number or little circumstances of your
faults, but it suffices to say in general what are your

principal falls, what your primary weaknesses of spirit.
You need not say how many

times you have fallen, but
whether you are very subject and given to the sin.
For example, you must not scrutinize yourself to see
how often you have fallen anger; perhaps this
into
would give you too much to do; but simply say whether
you are subject to this irregularity; whether, when it

happens, you remain a long time entangled in it ;
whether it is with much bitterness and violence. In

fine, say what are the occasions which most provoke
you to it ; the passion for play, self-consequence or
pride, melancholy or obstinacy (of course I give them
as examples) : and thus in a short time you will have
finished your little review, without much tormenting
either your memory or your leisure.
As to the third difficulty, some falls into mortal
sin, provided we have no intention of staying in them,

and do not go to sleep in the sin, do not prevent our
making progress in devotion. This devotion, although

lost by sinning mortally, is nevertheless recovered at
the first true repentance we make of the sin, when, as
I say, we have not long remained steeped in. sin. So
that these annual reviews are greatly salutary to souls
which are still a little feeble ; for if, perchance, the first
39 2 -5V- Francis de Sales.
resolutions have not altogether strengthened them,

the second and third will confirm them more; and at
last, by dint of resolving often, we remain entirely re

solved, and we must not
at all lose courage, but with
a holy humility look at our weakness, declare it,

and ask pardon, and beg the help of heaven. I am
your, &c.
LETTER LIV.
To A LADY.
The consideration of the sufferings of our Saviour ought to console
us in our pains.
IT is the truth, my dearest daughter, that nothing is
more capable of giving us a profound tranquillity in

this world than often to behold our Lord in all the
afflictions which happened to him from his birth to his
death. We shall see there such a sea of contempt, of

calumnies, of poverty and indigence, of abjections, of
pains, of torments, of nakedness, of injuries, and of all
comparison with it we shall

sorts of bitterness, that in
know we are wrong when we call our little acci

that
dents by the names of afflictions, pains and contradic
tions and that we are wrong in desiring patience for
;
such trifles, since a single little drop of modesty is
enough for bearing these things well.

I know exactly the state of your soul, and I seem
to see it
always before me, with all these little emo
tions of sadness, of surprise and of disquiet that come
troubling it. They do so because it his not yet driven
deep enough down into the will the foundations of love of
the cross and abjection. My dearest daughter, a heart

which greatly esteems and loves Jesus Christ crucified,
loves his death, his pains, his torments, his being spat
on, his insults, his destitutions, his hungers, his thirsts,

his ignominies ;
and when some little participation of
these comes to it, it makes a very jubilee (il en jubile)
over them for joy, and embraces them amorously.

You must then every day, not in prayer, but out of
prayer, when you are moving about, make a study of
our Lord amid the pains of our redemption, and con
sider what a blessedness it will be to you to share in
them ; you must see in what occasions you may gain

this is, the contradictions you
advantage, that may
perhaps meet in all your desires, but especially in the
desires which will seem to you the most just and
lawful; and then, with a great love of the cross and

passion of our Lord, you must cry out with St. Andrew :
good cross, so loved by my Saviour, when will you

receiveme into your arms ?
Look you, my dearest child, we are too delicate
when we call poverty a state in which we have not
hunger, nor cold, nor ignominy, but simply some little
contradiction to our desires. When we see one
another again, remind me to speak to you a little about
the tenderness and delicateness of your dear heart :
you have need your peace and

for repose, to be cured
of this before things; and you must form clearly in
all
yourself the idea of eternity ; whoever thinks well on

394 -5V. Francis de Sales.
this troubles himself little about what happens in

these three or four moments of mortal life.
Since you are able to fast half Advent, you can

continue to the end ; I am quite willing for you to
communicate two days together when you have the
convenience. You may certainly go, only go with
devotion, to Mass after dinner ;* it is the old fashion
of Christians. Our Lord does not regard these little
things: reverence is in the heart, you must not let
your spirit feed on these little considerations. Adieu,

my dearest daughter, hold me ever as all yours ; for in
true truth I am so. God bless you. Amen.
LETTER LV.
To A LADY.
The Saint recommends her peace of the soul and trust in God.
October, 1617.
I FIRMLY BELIEVE, my dearest daughter, that your

heart receives consolation from my letters, which are
also written to you with an incomparable affection,
since it has pleased God that my affection towards
you should be quite paternal; according to which, I
cease not to wish you the height of all blessings.
Keep your courage ever high, I beseech you, my

dearest daughter, in the confidence which you should
have in our Lord, who has cherished you, giving you so
* That is after the morning meal.
many humble attractions to his service ;

and cherishes
you, continuing them to you, and will cherish you, giving
you holy perseverance.

I do not understand, in good sooth, how souls which
have given themselves to the divine goodness, are not

always joyous for is there a happiness equal to this ?
:
Nor should imperfections which may arise trouble you

at all ;
for we do not wish to entertain them, or even
to stay our affections on them.
Remain, then, quite
in peace, and and
live in
humility sweetness of heart.
You have well known, my dearest daughter, all our
little afflictions, which I might well have had reason
to call great, had I not seen a special love of God to
wards the souls whom he has withdrawn from amongst

us ;
for my brother died as a religious among soldiers ;
a saint It is only to
my sister as among religious.
recommend them to your prayers that I say just this
word.
Your husband is quite right to love me ; for I wish
ever to honour him and you, my dearest daughter.
I figure myself that you always have a cordial
to
affection for me, and your soul will answer you for
me that I am yours, since the Lord and Creator of
our spirits has made this tie between us. For ever
may his name be blessed and that he may make you
!
eternally his, is the continual desire, my dearest
daughter, of your, &c.

LETTER LVL
To AN ECCLESIASTIC.
Advantage of Christian friendship over tliat of the children of

the world.
September , 1617.
AMID the incertitudes of the desirable journey which

was to bring us together for several months, my dear
est brother, I regretnothing so much as to see deferred
the happiness which our hearts promised themselves
of being able to entertain one another at will on the
subject of our holy intentions. But the world and

all its affairs are so subject to the laws of inconstancy
that we must suffer the inconvenience of them, while
our hearts may say : / shall never be moved* No,
nothing shall shake us in the love of the cross, and
in the dear union which the crucifix has made between
our spirits. But now is the time when we must use

the advantage which our friendship has over that of
the children of this world, and make it live and
gloriously reign, in spite of absence and the division

of abodes ; for its author is not tied to time or place.
Truly, my brother, these friendships which

dearest
God has made are independent of all that is outside
God.
Now, if I were truly Theophilus^ as your great
prelate calls me (rather according to the greatness of
his charity than his knowledge of my infirmities), how
* Ps. xxix.
7. f God-lover.
delightsome should I be to you, my dearest brother !
But if you cannot love me because I am not such,,
love me that I may so become, praying our great

Androphilus* to make me by his prayers Theophilus.
I hope to go in a few days to take a little holy repo&e
with him, who is our common phoenix, to smell the

burning cinnamon, in which he wishes to die. He
will live again amid the flames of sacred love, of which
he describes the holy properties in a book which he
iscomposing.
But who can have told you that our good Sisters
of the Visitation have been in trouble about their
places and buildings ! O my dear brother ! The

Lord hath been made a refuge for us :f our Lord is
the refuge of their soul; are they not too happy?

And as our good mother, all vigorous in her feeble
state, said to me yesterday : If the sisters of our con
gregation are very humble and God, theyfaithful to
will have the heart of Jesus, their crucified Spouse,

for their dwelling and abiding-place in this world,
and his heavenly palace for their eternal habitation.
needs must say into the ear of your heart, so

I
lovingly beloved by mine, that I have an inexpressible

sweetness of spirit in seeing the moderation of this
dear mother, and the total disengagement from things
of earth which she has testified amid all these little
contrarieties. I say this to your heart

only for I :
have taken a resolution to say nothing of her who

has heard the voice of the God of Abraham Go forth :
* Man-lover. Ps. Ixxxix. I.

f
out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and out of

thy father s house, and come into the land which I shall
show thee* In truth she does that, and more than
that. Well, it means that I recommend her to your
prayers, because the frequent attacks of her maladies
often give us attacks of fear, although I cease not to
hope that the God of our fathers will multiply her

devout seed as the stars of heaven and the sand we
see on the beach of the seas.
But, my God, I say too much on a subject whereon

I meant to say nothing at the same time it is to
:
you, to whom all things may be said, since you have

a heart incomparable in affection for him who, with
an amorous respect, protests to you that he is incom
parably, sir, &c.
LETTER LVII.
On humility of heart and ravishments.
WE ought not to desire extraordinary things, as, for

instance, that God should do to us as to St. Catherine
of Sienna, taking away our heart,
place and in its
putting his precious own ; but we must wish that our

poor hearts should henceforth live only under the
obedience of the heart of this Saviour ;
this will be
quite imitation enough of St. Catherine in this point :
thus shall we be meek, humble and charitable. And

since the heart of our Lord has no more affectionate
* Gen. xii. r.
law than meekness, humility and charity, we must

keep quite strong in us these dear virtues sweetness
towards our neighbour and very amiable humility
towards God. True sanctity consists in the love of
God, and not in foolishnesses of imaginations, of ravish
ments, which feed self-love, but starve obedience and
humility to wish to play the extatic is an abuse.
:
But let us come to the exercise of true and veritable

meekness and submission, renunciation of self, pliancy
of heart, love of abjection, condescension to the desires
of others ;
it is this which is the true and most love-
able extasy of the servants of God.
When we see a person who in prayer has ravish
ments by which he goes out from and mounts above

himself in God, and yet has no extasies in his life,
that is, leads not a life lifted up and united to God
by abnegation of worldly concupiscences, and morti

fication of natural will and inclinations, by an interior
meekness, simplicity, humility, and above all by a

continual charity then we may believe that all these
ravishments are very doubtful and perilous ; they are
ravishments proper to make men wonder, but not to
sanctify them. For what good does a soul get from

being ravished unto God by prayer, if in its conver
sation and life it is ravished away by earthly, low, and
natural affections? To be above self in prayer, and
below self in life and operation ; to be an angel in
prayer and a beast in intercourse with men, this is to

go lame on both legs it is to swear by God and by
;
Melchom ; and to sum up, it is a true sign that such

ravishments and such extasies are only amusements

and deceits of the evil spirit.
Blessed are they who live a superhuman, extatic
life, raised above themselves, though not ravished
above themselves in prayer !
Many saints are in
heaven who were never in extasy or ravishment of

contemplation ; for of how many martyrs and great
saints does history tell us that they have never had
in prayer any other privilege than devotion and fer
vour ! But there was never a saint but has had the
extasy of and operation, overcoming himself and
life
his natural inclinations. In fact, there have been

seen in our age several persons who thought them
selves, and every one thought with them, very often
divinely ravished in extasy and at last it was dis
;
covered that really it was only diabolical illusions
and amusements.
LETTER LVIII.
To A PROTESTANT WHO HAD ASKED TO HAVE A

CONFERENCE WITH HIM.
SIR, My design was not to enter into any conference

with you ; the necessity of my near departure entirely
took away the opportunity of it. If conferences are
not well regulated, and accompanied by leisure and
convenience for carrying them through to the end,
they are without fruit. I only look at the glory

of God, and the salvation of my neighbour. When

this cannot be procured, I hold no conference.
You well know what I mean when I speak of the
Book of Machabees. There are two ; and two make
one volume. I will not take the trouble to say more,
for I do not quibble.

It is true that we say and insist on
it, and you
deny and regret The Church has always been

it.
fought against in the same way ; but your negations
ought to be proved by the same sort of proofs as you

demand from us ; it is for the denier to prove, when
he denies against possession, and when his negation is
to be the foundation of his argument. Jurisconsults
testify it to you ; the maxim is taken from them ;
you will not refuse its application.
Prayer for the dead has been used by all the

ancient Church, Calvin himself acknowledges it ; the
Fathers have proved it by the authority of the Book
of Machabees, and the general usage of their pre
decessors. See the end and the beginning of St.
Augustine s book on this subject : we walk in their
steps and follow their traces.

Neither the book of Machabees, nor the Apocalypse
were recognized so soon as the others ; both, however,
were equally so at the Council of Carthage, at which
St. Augustine assisted. Some canonical books were
lawfully doubted of for a time, which may not be
doubted of now : the passages I have cited are so
express, that they cannot be turned to another sense.

I conjure you by the bowels of Jesus Christ, to
D D
be willing henceforth to read the Scriptures and

the ancient Fathers with a mind dispossessed of
prejudices ; you will see that the principal and

essential features of the face of the ancient Church
are preserved in that which is now.
I am told that God has placed in you many gifts of
Nature ;
do not abuse them so as to keep away those
of grace and consider attentively the true bearing of
;
the matter about which you want to confer. If
opportunity allowed, be sure that I would not refuse,

any more than I would refuse Messieurs of Geneva,
if they desired it on proper terms.
my neighbours,
It would not be possible with profit to have con
ferences in writing; we are too far apart. And
further, what could we write that has not been,
repeated a hundred times ? Give, for your salvation s

sake, attentive meditation to your reasons and to the
ancient Fathers ;
and I will givepoor and feeble my
prayers ;
these I will present to the mercy of our
Saviour, to whom and for whose love I offer you my

service, and am your, &c.
LETTER LIX.
The Saint deplores the misfortune of a lady who had fallen
into heresy.
2nd December, 1609.
O GOD ! What This poor thing then
a misfortune !
means to be lost with her husband The Confessions !

of St. Augustine, and the chapter I showed her when

I passed that way, ought to have been enough to
hold her back, if she is only driven to the precipice
by the considerations she mentions. God, at the day

of his great Judgment, will justify himself against her,
and will make clearly appear why she has abandoned
him. Ah ! one abyss calls upon another. I will
pray God for her, and especially on the feast of

St. Thomas, whom I will conjure by his happy
infidelity, to intercede for this poor soul so unhappily
unfaithful.
What
thanksgivings do we owe to this great God,
my dear child
? To think that I, so many ways
tempted, in a frail and unstable age, to surrender
myself to heresy, and that I have not cared so
much as even to look upon it except to spit in
its face, and that my feeble and young going soul,
through all the most infected books should not have

had the least emotion of this miserable evil ! O God !
when I think of this benefit, I tremble with horror at
my ingratitude.
But let us calm ourselves in the loss of these souls ;
for Jesus Christ, to whom they were more dear, would

not let them go after their own sense, if his greater
glory did not require it. It is true we ought to
regret them and sigh after them, like

David, over
Absalom hanged and lost. There was no great harm
in that indignation you showed when speaking with
her. Alas !
my child, sometimes we cannot contain
ourselves in occurrences so deserving of abhorrence.
D D 2
The other day, at an early hour, a very learned

man, and one who had been a minister for a long time,
came to see me, and telling me how God had with
drawn him from heresy I had for instructor, he
:
said, themost learned bishop in the world. I
expected he would name some one of the great repu

tations of this age he said, St. Augustine.
: His
name is Corneille, and he is just now printing a
splendid book for the Faith. He is not yet received

into the Church, and has given me a hope that I shall
receive him. This good man went off contented with

me, saying that I had lovingly entertained him, and
that I had the true spirit of the Christian. We must
conclude that these ancient Fathers have a spirit
which breathes against heresy, even in the point s
where they are not disputing against it.
When I was at Paris, and preaching in the Queen s
Chapel on The Day of Judgment (it was no sermon of

controversy), a young lady was present out of curiosity,
named Madame de Perdreauville ;
she was caught in
the meshes, and on this sermon she took a resolution
to get instructed, and three weeks afterwards she
brought her family to confession to me, and I was

all
godfather to them all in Confirmation. Do you see ?

That sermon, which was not made against heresy,
still breathed against heresy : for God on that
occasion gave me that spirit in favour of those souls.
Since then I have always said that he who preaches
with love preaches sufficiently against heretics, though
he say not a single word of controversy against them.
And this is the same as to say that in general all the
writings of the Fathers are suitable for the conversion

of heretics.
O my God, dear child, how many perfections do I
wish you ! One for all, unity, simplicity. Live in
peace and joyous, or at least contented, in all that
God wishes and wills to do in your heart. I am in
him and by him all yours. Your, &c. .
LETTER LX.
To HIS BROTHER, COADJUTOR OF GENEVA.
About one of their friends who had turned Calvinist and

gone into Enyland.
Annecy, 2ist November , 1620.
HERE is a letter which I have opened without per
ceiving that it was not for me. O God my ! dearest
brother, what anguish did the reading of it cause to
my soul Certainly it is quite true that in all my

!
life I have not had so painful a surprise. Is it
possible that this soul

can so have gone to ruin ? He
used to say so distinctly to me that he would never be
aught else than child of the Roman Church though ;
he thought the Pope exceeded the limits of justice, to

extend those of his authority. Meantime, after having
cried out so strongly that it did not behove that the
supreme Pastor, the ruler of the Church, should

undertake to release subjects from the obedience of
the supreme prince of the commonwealth, whatever

evil this prince might do ; he himself, for these
pretended abuses, goes and becomes a rebel against

this supreme Pastor; or speak after his language),
(to
against all the pastors of the Church in which he has

been baptized and brought up !
He who did not find clearness enough, he used to
say, in the passages of Scripture to prove the authority

of St. Peter over the rest of Christians, how has he
gone to place himself under the ecclesiastical authority
of a king, whose power the Scripture has never autho
rized save for civil matters?
If he found that the Pope was exceeding the limits
of his power by claiming some power over the temporal
authority of princes,, how will he find that the

king, under whom he has gone to live, exceeds
the limits of his authority, by claiming rights over the
spiritual ?
Is it possible that what brought back and kept St.
Augustine to the Church has not been able to retain

this spirit? Is it possible that the reverence for an
tiquity and rejection of novelty has not had the power

to stop him?
Is it possible that he has believed that all the Church
has so greatly erred, and that Huguenots or English
Calvinists have so happily met with the truth every
where, and not erred in the understanding of the

Scripture ? Whence can such universal knowledge of
the sense of Scripture have come into those heads in
the matters of our controversies, as that everywhere
they should be right, and we everywhere wrong, so
that he must leave us to cling to them?

Alas !
my dear brother, you will soon perceive the
trouble there is in my spirit, when I say all this to you.
The modesty with which he behaves in writing to you,
the friendship he begs from you with so much affec
tion, and even submission, has made a great wound of

condolence in my spirit, which cannot rest when it sees
the soul of this friend perishing.

I was on the eve of getting a place made for him
here, and M. N. had word to treat with him about it;
and now there he separated from the rest of the
is,
world by the sea, and from the Church by schism and

error !
However, God will draw his glory from this
sin.
I have a particular inclination for that island and

its king, and I unceasingly recommend its conversion
to the Divine Majesty. I have confidence that I shall
be heard with so many souls that sigh after this grace;

and henceforth I will pray even more ardently, me-
thinks, in consideration of that soul.
O my dearest brother, blessed are the true children
of the Holy Church, in which have died all the true
children of God. I assure you, my heart has a con
tinual extraordinary throbbing on account of this fall,
and a new courage to serve better the Church of the

living God, and the living God of the Church.
Meanwhile we must keep this miserable news secret,
though it is sure soon to be spread about on account

of the number of the relatives and friends of him who
gives it you. And you write to him, as he seems

if
to ask, through M. Gabaleon, assure him that all the

waters of England can never quench the flames of my
affection, so long as I can keep any hope of his return
to the Church, and to the way of eternal life.
LETTER LXT.
(From the original Latin.)
To HIS HOLINESS PAUL V.

On the Venerable Ancina.
I RECEIVED a very great joy and satisfaction when I

heard that there would shortly appear the life and the
details of all the actions of the most illustrious and
most reverend Father and Lord, Juvenal Ancina. For
since bishops, as said the great Bishop of Nazianzum,
St. Gregory, are the painters of virtue, and as they
have to paint so excellent a thing by their words and
their works as accurately as possible, I do not doubt
that in the life of our most illustrious and admirable
Juvenal, we shall see a complete and perfect image of

Christian justice, that is, of all virtues.
And, indeed, during the space of four or five months

that I was negotiating at Rome the affairs of this See,
by the command
my most devout and virtuous pre
of
decessor, Monseigneur Claude de Granier, I saw many

men excelling in sanctity and doctrine, who were by
their works illustrating The City) and in the City the
world (in but amongst all these great

wrbe orbem) ;
personages, the virtue of this one particularly struck

the eyes of my spirit.
For I admired, in the profound science of this man
which embraced so many different subjects and with
so full an erudition, a corresponding contempt of self;
in the perfect gravity of his appearance, of his dis
course and of his manners, as much also of grace and
modesty ;
in his great solicitude for devotion, an equal
remembrance of politeness and sweetness : so that he
did not tread down pride by another pride, as

happens
with many, but by a true humility ;
and he did not
display his charity by knowledge which puffeth up, but

made his knowledge fruitful by the charity which
edifieth. He was a man beloved of God and men, be
cause he loved them with the purest charity. Now, I
call purest charity that in which can scarce be found
the smallest trace of self-love or philautia, a rare and
exquisite charity, which hardly met with even among

is
those who make profession of piety, wherefore from far

and from the uttermost coasts is the price thereof.*
I have noticed that when the occasion presented
itself, this man of God was accustomed so openly,
frankly, and lovingly to praise the different institutes,

virtues, teaching, and ways of serving God, of various
religions, ecclesiastics, and laymen, as if he were a

member congregations or meetings.
of their And
whilst he embraced with most sweet and entirely filial
heart his own and his most beloved Congregation of

* Prov. xxxi. 10.
the Oratory, he did not on that account more coldly,

as often happens, or more weakly love, esteem, or
extol other houses or assemblies of persons serving

God.
This was why, looking only at the greater glory of
God, he most lovingly guided with his own hand and
influence, into the society which he thought most
suited to them, those who, touched interiorly with
heavenly love, desired to follow the course of a purer
life, and sought his counsel a man, in sooth, who :
was neither of Paul, nor of Cephas, nor of Apollo,

but of Jesus Christ,* and who listened not to those
cold words, mine and thine, either in temporals or
in spirituals; but did all things sincerely in Christ
and for Christ. . .
Of this perfect charity of this Apostolic man I
have an example now at hand. Just lately there
died, in the College of the Clerks Regular of St. Paul

in this city of Annecy, a most religious man, William
Cramoisy, of Paris ; with whom when I was once

talking, in an ordinary way, I happened to mention
the name of our most Reverend Juvenal Ancina. And
he, suddenly filled with joy, said :

"
How grateful,
how precious to me should be the memory of this
man ! For he as it were brought me forth again in
Christ." And when he saw that I had a desire of
hearing the whole thing fully, he thus continued:

"
When I was twenty-four years old, Divine Pro

vidence had already attracted me to the religious life
* i Cor. iii.
Variozis Letters. 41 1
by many inspirations ;
but T felt myself, from my
weakness, so by contrary temptations, that
agitated
altogether despondent in my soul, I was seriously
thinking of marriage ; and the affair had already
gone so far among my friends that it seemed almost
done.
"
But how great is the benignity of God ! When

I entered the Oratory of Vallicelle, what should I
hear but Father Juvenal Ancina preaching to the
people, first on the inconstancy and weakness of the
human heart, then on the magnanimity with which
divine instincts are to be put in execution. He spoke
with such skill of language and argument, that he
seemed to shake off as with his hand the miserable
slothfulness of heart
so that at length, lifting up
my :
his voice as a trumpet,he compelled me to surrender.

Wherefore, as soon as ever the sermon was finished,
anxious and hesitating I go to him in a corner of the
oratory where he was praying, as I think, for the

happy issue of his sermon, and expose to him what
was taking place in my soul.
"
He said : This matter must be treated more fully,

and there is not time now, as the day grows late. So
to-morrow, if you will come to me, we can more con
veniently go into everything. Meantime, and this is the
chief point, by prayer invoke the heavenly light/
So I went next day, and sincerely declared all
"
that I was doing about my vocation, on either side ;
and particularly that I was chiefly afraid of the
religious life because I was weak and delicate.

"
When lie had attentively heard and weighed all,
that servant of God said : On

very account it is, by
this
Divine Providence, that there are in the Church various

orders of religious namely, that any one who could
not give his life to those orders which are austere and
devoted to exterior penance, may enter the milder.
And here you have the Congregation of Clerks
Regular of St. Paul, in which the discipline of
religious perfection excellently nourishes; still it is
not weighed down by any bodily labour so great but

that by almost any man its customs and constitutions
may be quite easily observed, with God s favour go :
to their college, and see for yourself whether it is not
so/ Nor from that time did the man of God cease
his efforts till he had seen me enrolled and joined to
this most venerable Congregation.
From which it is easy to understand how great was
the power of the great Juvenal Ancina in preaching,
his wisdom in counselling, and his perfect and con
stant charity in helping his neighbour. For this very
thing which I have just mentioned by way of example,

I and several others know to have been done; and
indeed, for myself, I openly declare that by the many

letters which I have received from him through his
affection to me, I have been vehemently united to the
love of Christian virtue.

But after he was transferred from the excellent life
of the Congregation of the Oratory to the most holy
Episcopal office, then did his virtue begin to shine more

splendidly, and more clearly, as was fitting, to send
forth its rays, as a burning and shining light* placed

on a candlestick, that it may give light to all that are
in the housed
And, indeed, when in 1603, I went a little out of
my direct journey, in order to salute him, at Carmag-

nola, a town of his diocese of Saluces, where he was
then duty of pastoral visitation, I saw
fulfilling his
what love, mingled with veneration, his piety and

wealth of virtues had excited in those people. For
when they learnt that I had arrived, I cannot suffi
ciently express the ardour of soul with which, by a

certain friendly violence, they drew me from the
public hospice into the house of some noble citizen,

saying that they would like, if they only could do it,
to lodge in the midst of their bosoms a man who had
gone out of his way for the sake of honouring their
most beloved pastor.
Nor could they ever satisfy themselves in joyously
expressing by words, and looks, the satisfaction felt at

the presence of such a pastor whilst he, with a certain
;
most dignified familiarity, and most sweet good-will

towards all, draw to himself at once their eyes and
souls, and as a glorious and loving-hearted shepherd,
called his own sheep by name\ to verdant pastures, and
with his hands full of the salt of wisdom, enticed them^
nay, drew them, to come after him.
In fine, I will say one word ; may I say it without
* John v. Mat. v.
35. -f 15.
J John x. 3.
offence ? I do not remember that I have seen a man

more copiously, more splendidly adorned with the
gifts which the Apostle so earnestly desired for Apos
tolic men.
BOOK VII.
LETTERS OF THE SAINT ABOUT

HIMSELF.
LETTER I.
MONSIEUR DE BOISY, COUNT DE SALES, TO HIS Sox

ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.
I CANNOT but praise your zeal,* my son; but I do not

see thatit can end in any good. You have already
done more than was needed. The most sensible and
the most prudent people say loudly that your perse
verance is turning into a foolish obstinacy, and that it
is tempting God to make a longer trial of your
strength, and, in fine, that it is necessary to force these

people to receive the faith simply by the cannon s
mouth. For which reason I conjure you to allay, as
soon as you possibly can, our disquiets and alarms,
and to return to your family which ardently desires
you, and above all to your mother, who is dying
of grief at not seeing you, and of fear to lose you
* In his
missionary work for the Chablais.
altogether. But if my prayers are of no avail, I order
you, in my quality of father, to return hither imme

diately.
LETTER II.
ST. FRANCIS DE SALES TO HIS FATHER.
He excuses himselffor being unable to return.
MY HONOURED FATHER, Whatever respect I have

for your orders, I cannot help telling you that it is
impossible for me to obey them. You are not

ignorant from whom, under God, and on God s part,
I have received my mission. Am I able to withdraw
myself from it without his leave ?
Apply then,
if you please, to his Most Reverend Lordship : I am
ready to quit, as soon as he speaks. In any case, I
beseech you to consider those words of our Saviour :
He who shall persevere to the end shall be saved ;* and

these others of St. Paul : He is not crowned that
striveth, except he strive lawfully.-\ Our tribulation,

which is momentary and light, worketh an eternal
weight of glory. %
* Mat. x. 22. Tim

f 2 - "
5-
J 2 Cor. iv. 17.

Letters of the Saint about himself. 417
LETTER III.
To MADAME THE COUNTESS OF SALES, HIS MOTHER.

lie consoles her for his absence by the hope of seeing him
again soon.
May, 1599.
I WRITE you this, my dear and good mother, as
I mount my horse for

Chambery. This note is not
sealed,and I have no anxiety about it; for, by the
grace of God, we are no longer in that trying time
during which we had to hide ourselves in order
to write to one another, and to say some words of
friendship and consolation. Vive Dieu, my good
mother; truly the remembrance of that time always

produces in my soul some holy and sweet thought.
Always preserve joy in our Lord, my good mother,
and be assured that your poor son is well, by the
Divine mercy, and is getting ready to go and see you
the soonest, and stay with you the longest possible, for
I am all yours, and you know that I am your son.
LETTER IV.
He speaks to her of the fruit of his Lent-preaching at Annecy,
in 1607.
Annecy, about the 8th April, 1607.

LOOK YOU, my dear child, you know well that Lent
is the harvest-time of souls. I had not preached a
E
Lent in this dear town up to this, since I had been

made bishop, except the first, in which I was looked at
to see what I should do ;

and I had enough to do to
take up my position, and see after the general affairs
of the diocese which had just freshly fallen on my

shoulders. Now, know that I make my harvest, with
tears partly of joy and partly of love. O my God !
to whom should I say these things, if not to my dear

child ?
I have just found in our sacred nets a fish which I

had so longed for these four years. I must confess
the truth, I have been very glad, I say extremely glad
over it. I recommend her to your prayers, that our
Lord may establish in her heart the resolutions he

has put therein. It is a lady, quite a golden lady,
and magnificently fitted to serve her Saviour ;

and if
she persevere she will do so with fruit.

It is seven or eight days since I have thought of
myself, or seen myself except on the surface ; for so
many souls have addressed themselves to me that

I might see and serve them, that I have had no
leisure to think of my own. It is true that, to
console you, I am bound to say that I still feel
my spirit whole within my heart, for which I praise

God; for in truth this sort of occupation is
extremely
profitable to me. How do I wish that it
may be very
useful to those for whom I labour !
Live, my dear child, with our sweet Saviour, in his
arms, during this holy Passion-tide; may he for ever
repose between your breasts, as a sacred bundle of

myrrh ;
it will be to you a sovereign epithem for all
your palpitations of heart. Oh ! this morning (for I

must further say this), presenting the Son to the
Father, I said to him in my soul : I offer you your
heart, O Eternal Father !
deign in its favour to
receive also named yours, and that of

ours. I
the young servant of God of whom I spoke, and some

others. I did not know which to push the more
forward, whether the new for its need, or yours for
my affection. Think what a struggle !
So, then, remain always in peace in the arms of

our Saviour, who loves you so dearly, and whose sole
love ought to serve us as a general rendezvous for all
our consolations. This holy love, my child, in which

ours is founded, enrooted, increased, and nourished,
will be eternally perfect and enduring. I am he
whom God has given you irrevocably.
LETTER V.
To THE SAME.
He encourages her, by his example, patiently to suffer, that her

gentleness, in domestic contradictions, should be put down
to dissimulation.
Holy Saturday, i^th April, 1607.

O, MY DEAREST CHILD, here we are at the end of the
holy Lent and at the glorious resurrection Ah how ! !
I desire thatwe should be raised up again with our

Lord ! I am now going to beg this of him, as I do
E E 2
42O St. Francis de Sales.
daily ;
for I never applied my communions so
earnestly
to your soul as I have done this Lent, and with a
particular sentiment of trust in this immense good

ness, that it will be favourable to us.
Yes ; my dear child, we must have good courage.

It is no harm for your patience in bearing domestic
contradiction to be attributed to dissimulation. And
do you think that I am exempt from such attacks ?
But it is the truth, I only laugh about them when I

remember them, which is but rarely. O God indeed !
am I not insensible to other accidents and evil insinua
tions; how sensitive, am I to the injurious and bad

opinions which may be held about me ! It is true
that they are neither stinging nor in great number;
but still I believe that if there were many more of
them, I should not fail to bear them, by the assistance
of the Holy Spirit. Oh !
courage, my very dear and
well-beloved child. What is needful for us is, that
our little portion of ointment should offend the nostrils
of the world.
To God, my dearest child ; to God let us belong, in
time and in eternity Let us ever unite our
! little
crosses to his great one !
Yesterday (for I must say one more word to you)

after the sermon in the town at which I assisted, I
preached a sermon on the Passion before our religious

of Sainte-Claire. They had begged this very hard of
me. When it came to the part in which I was con
templating how the cross was laid on the shoulders of
our Lord, and how he embraced it, and when I said
that in his cross and with it he acknowledged and

took to himself all our little crosses, and kissed them
all to sanctify them : and when I came to say in par
ticular that he kissed our drynesses, our contradictions,

our bitternesses, I assure you, my dear child, that I
was much consoled, and had difficulty to contain my
tears.
For what reason do I say this? I know not,
except that I could not help saying it to you. I had

much consolation in thislittle sermon, at which twenty-
five or thirty devout souls of the town assisted, besides

those of the monastery : so that I had every oppor
tunity to give the rein to my poor on
little affections
a worthy subject. May the good and gentle Jesus be

for ever the king of our hearts Amen. !
I love our Celse-Benigne and the little Fran9on.*
May God be for ever their God ; and the angel who
has guarded their mother bless them for ever Yes, !
my child, for it has been a great angel who has given

you your good desires. So may he give you the
execution of them and perseverance. Vive Jesus,
who has made me and keeps me for ever all yours.
Amen.
* Children of Madame de Chantal.

LETTER VI.
To THE SAME.
He informs her that he is going to visit his diocese ; he congratu

on her love for sicknesses ; he promises to write often.
lates her
MY DEAREST CHILD, Ihave your letter of the 6th June,

and I am just now getting on horseback for the Visita
tion, which will last five months ;judge for yourself
whether I am ready to go into Burgundy, for my dear
child, this act of visitation is a necessary one for me,
and one of the chief of my charge. I start with great
courage,, and from this morning I have felt a par

ticular consolation in undertaking though before, it,
during several days, I had had a thousand vain appre

hensions and sadnesses about it. These, however, only
affected the skin of my heart, and not the interior;
it was like those little shiverings which come at the
first feeling of cold. But, as I have said to you
many times, our good God treats me as a very delicate
child, for he exposes me to no rude shock. He

knows my weakness, and that I am not one to stand
such great trials. I tell you in this way my little
affairs, because it does me much good. Oh how I con !
gratulate you for truly loving your tertian fever ;

for
my part I figure to myself that if we had our sense

of smell but a little refined, we should smell our
afflictions all bemusked, and perfumed with a thousand
sweet odours; for although of themselves they are
of unpleasant smell, still, coming out of the hand,
nay, rather out of the bosom and heart of the Spouse,

who is but perfume and balm itself, they reach us
the same, full of all sweetness. Keep, my dear child,
keep your heart very large before God ; walk ever
joyously in his presence, he loves us, he cherishes us,
he is al] ours, this sweet Jesus. Let us be all his, let
us only love him, only cherish him, and then, let

darkness, let tempests surround us, let us have the
waters of bitterness up to our chin, so long as he
holds our garments there is nought to fear. I will
often write to you, my dear child, and a thousand

times I will bless you with the benedictions which
God has given to me. Live joyous, whether in health
or sickness, and clasp tightly your Spouse on your
heart. dear child, my dearest child, to whom I
My
am what his divine majesty wills me to be, and which
cannot be said. Vive Jesus, for ever ! Amen.
LETTER VII.
To THE SAME.
Sentiments which he felt in the procession of the Blessed

Sacrament.
O GOD how ! full is my heart of things to tell you, my

child, for to-day is the day of the Church s great feast,
in which, bearing our Saviour in the procession, he
has by his grace given me a thousand sweet thoughts,
amidst which I have had difficulty to keep back my
tears.
O God ! I put in comparison the High Priest of the

old law with myself, and considered how this High
Priest carried a rich pectoral on his breast, adorned with
twelve precious stones, and on it appeared the names
of the twelve tribes of Israel ; but I found my pectoral
far more rich, though it was composed of only one
stone, that Oriental pearl, which the strong mother
conceived in her chaste womb, by the blessed dew of
heaven ; for, you see, I was holding this Divine Sacra
ment clasped tightly on my breast, and I considered

how the names of the children of Israel were all marked
on it, yes, the names of the daughters especially, and
the name of one still more.
The falcon and the sparrow of St. Joseph came to
my memory, and it seemed to me that I was a knight
of the Order of God, bearing on my breast the same
Son who lives eternally on his. Ah ! how would I
have wished that should be opened to receive
my heart
this precious Saviour, as was that of the gentleman
whose history I told you.* But alas I had not the !
knife which was needed to cut it open, for it is only

to be opened by love have indeed had great desires
;
I
of this love, and I speak for our indivisible heart.

This is what I can say to you. Live all in God and
for God. I am with him absolutely yours.
* See Love
of God, Book VII. ch. 12.
LETTER VIII.
To THE SAME. (MADAME DE CHANTAL.)

Wliy he was strong before great attacks. His relish for
prayer.
The first Thursday, 6th September, 1607.
How many things, my child, should I have to say to
you, if I had the leisure ! for I have received your

letter of St. Anne s
day, written in a particular style,
and one which appeals to the heart, and requires an
ample response.
You are going on well, my child ; only continue :
have patience with your interior cross. Ah our !
Saviour allows it you, that one day you may know

better what you are by yourself. Do you not see, my
child, that the trouble of the day is made clear by the
repose of the night ? An evident sign that our soul
has need only to resign itself entirely to its God, and
to make herself indifferent in serving him, whether
among thorns, or among roses. Would you really
believe, my best child, that this very night I have had
a disquietude about something which certainly
little
did not deserve that I should even think of it !
However, it has made me

two good hours of lose
my sleep, a thing which rarely happens to me. But,

further, I was laughing myself at my weakness and ;
my mind saw as clearly as the day that it was all the
disquietude of a mere little child ; yet was there no

means to find the way out of it : and I knew well that
God wanted to make me understand that if assaults

and great attacks do not trouble me, as in truth they
do not, it isnot by my own strength, but by the grace
of my Saviour and I
;
lie not when I say that I feel
myself consoled by the experimental knowledge which

God gives me of myself.
I assure you that I am very firm in our resolutions,
and that they please me much. I cannot say many
things to you, for this good father starts in an hour,

and I have Mass to say ;
I will leave then all the rest.
You gave me great pleasure in one of your letters by

asking me straight out, w hether
r
I was making my
prayer. O my child ! act so ;
ask me always the state
ofmy soul for I know well that your curiosity in this
;
comes from the ardour of the charity which you bear

me. Yes, my child, by the grace of God I can say
now better than before, that I make mental prayer,
because I do not fail a single day in this ; except some
times on a Sunday, on account of confessions and God ;
gives me the strength to get up sometimes before day

break for this purpose, when I foresee the multitude of
the embarrassments of the day, and I do it all gaily;
and meseems I have affection for it, and would greatly
wish to be able to make it twice in the day; but it is
not possible for me.

Vive Jesus ! Vive Marie ! Adieu, my dear child.
God has made me, without end, without reserve, and
beyond comparison, yours, &c.
LETTER IX.
To THE SAME.
On the death of Ms young sister, Jane de Sales, who died

in the arms of Madame de ChantaL
2nd November, 1607.
AH, WELL !
my dear daughter ;
and is it not reasonable
that the most holy will of God should be done, as
much in the things we cherish as in others ? But I
must hasten to tell you that my good mother has
drunk this chalice with an entirely Christian con
stancy,, and her virtue, of which I had always a high

opinion, has by much exceeded my estimation.
On Sunday morning, she sent for my brother the
Canon ; and because she had seen him very sad, and
all the other brothers as well, the night before, she
began by saying to him I have dreamt the night

"
: all
that my daughter Jane is dead. Tell me, I beseech
you, is it not true ?"

My brother, who was awaiting
my arrival to break it to her (for I was on my Visita
tion), seeing this good opening for presenting the

chalice to her, and as she was lying in bed :
"
It is
true, mother/ he said, and no more, for he had not
strength to add anything. God s will be done," said"
my good mother, and wept abundantly for some space ;
and then, calling her Nicole, she said I want to :

"
get up and go pray God in the chapel for my poor

daughter/ and immediately did what she said. Not a
single word of impatience, not a look of disquiet ; but
blessings of God, and a thousand resignations in her

will. Never did I see a calmer grief such tears that ;
it was a marvel ; but from simple tenderness of

all heart,
without any sort of passion, yet it was her dear child.
Ah !
then, this mother, should I not love her well ?
Yesterday, All Saints Day, I was the grand con

fessor of the family, and with the Most Holy Sacra
ment of this mother against all

I sealed the heart
sadness. For the

she thanks you infinitely for
rest,
the care and maternal love which you have shown
towards this deceased little one, with as much obliga
tion toyou as if God had preserved her by your means.
The brothers (la fraternite) say as much, who in truth
have testified extremely good dispositions in this
affliction, especially our Boisy, whom I love the more

for it.
know that you would gladly ask me And

I well :
you, how did you bear yourself? Yes, for you want
to know what I am doing. Ah my child, I am as !
human as I can be my heart was grieved more than I

;
should ever have thought. But the truth is, that the
pain to my mother and your pain have much swollen

mine ;
for I have feared for your heart, and my
mother s. But as for the rest, I will always take the

side of Divine Providence : it does all well, and dis
poses of all things for the best. What a happiness

for this child to have been taken away, lest wickedness
should alter her understanding,* and to have left this
miry place before she had got soiled therein We !
*
Wisdom, iv. n.
gather strawberries and cherries before bergamots and

pippins (capendus), but it is because their season re
quires it. Let God gather what he has planted in his
orchard : he takes everything in its season.
You may think, my dear daughter, how tenderly I
loved this little child. I had brought her forth to her
Saviour, for I had baptized her with my own hand,

some fourteen years ago. She was the first creature
on whom I exercised my order of priesthood. I was
her spiritual father, and fully promised myself one
day to make out of her something good. And what
made her very dear to me (and I speak the truth) was
that she was yours. But still, my dear child, in the
midst of my heart of flesh, which has had such keen
feelings about this death, I perceive very sensibly a

certain sweetness, tranquillity, and a certain gentle
repose of my spirit in the Divine Providence, which
spreads abroad in my heart a great contentment in its
pains.
Here, then, are my movements represented as far
as I can. But you, what do you mean, when you tell

me that you found yourself on this occasion such as
you were ? Tell me, I beseech you : was not our

needle always turning to its bright pole, to its holy
star, to its God ? Your heart, what has it been
doing? Have you scandalized those who saw you in
this matter and in this event ? Now this, my dea r
child, tell me clearly ; for, do you see, it was not right
to offer either your own life or that of one of your
other children, in exchange for that of the departed one.
No, my dear child, we must not only consent for

God to strike us, but we must let it be in the place
which he pleases. We must leave the choice to God,
for belongs to him.
it David offered his life for that
of his Absalom, but it was because he died reprobate
(perdu] in such case we must beseech God; but in

temporal loss, O my daughter let God touch and
!
strike whatever string of our lute he chooses, he will
never make but a good harmony. Lord Jesus with !
out reserve, without if, without but, without exception,

without limitation, your will be done ;
in father, in
mother, in daughter, in all and everywhere Ah I do ! !
not say that we must not wish and pray for their pre
servation ; but we must not say to God, leave this and
take that ; my dear child, we must not say so. And
we will not. No, no no, my ; child, by help of the
grace of his Divine goodness.

I seem to see you, my dear child, with your vigor
ous heart, which loves and wills powerfully. I con
gratulate it thereon : for what are these half-dead

hearts good for ? But it behoves that we make a
particular exercise, once every week, of willing and

loving the will of God more vigorously, (I go further)
more tenderly, more amorously, than anything in the
world ;
and this not only in bearable occurrences, but
in the most unbearable. You will find more than I
can describe in the little book of the Spiritual Combat,
which I have so often recommended to you.
Ah !
my child, to speak truth, this lesson is high ;
but also God, for whom we learn it, is the Most

Letters of the Saint about himself. 43 i
High. You have, my child, four children ; you have

a father-in-law, a dear brother, and then again a
spiritual father : all this is

very dear to you, and
rightly ;
for God wills it. Well, now, if God took all
this from you, would you not still have
enough in
having God ? Is that not all, in your estimation ?
If we had nought but God, would it not be enough ?
Alas the Son of God, my dear Jesus, had scarce
!
so much on the cross, when, having given up and left
all for love and obedience to his Father, he was as if

left and given up by him and, as the torrent of his ;
passion swept off his bark to desolation, hardly did

he perceive the needle, which was not only turned
towards, but
inseparably joined with, his Father.
Yes, he was one with his Father, but the inferior part
knew and perceived nothing of it whatever a trial :
which the divine goodness has made and will make

in no other soul, for it could not bear it.
Well then, my child, if God takes everything from
us, he will never take himself from us, so long as we
do not will it. But more ;
all our losses and our
separations are but for this little moment. Oh !
for so little a time as this, we ought to have

truly,
patience.
I pour myself out, meseems, a little too much.
But why ? I follow my heart, which never feels it
says too much with this dear daughter. I send you

an escutcheon to satisfy you ;
and since it pleases you
to have the funeral services where this child rests in
the body, I am willing; but without great pomp,

43 2 St- Francis de Sales.
beyond what Christian custom requires what good is :
the rest ? You will afterwards draw out a list of all

these expenses, and those of her illness, and send it to
me, for I wish it so ;

and meantime we shall beseech
God here for this soul, and will properly do its little
honours. shall not send for its quarantal * no,
We
my child, so much ceremony (mystere) is not becom
ing for a child who has had no rank in this world ;
it would get one laughed at. You know me I love :
simplicity both in life and in death. I shall be very
glad to know the name and the title of the church

where she is. This is all on this subject. Yours. &c.
LETTER X.
To THE SAME.
He sends copies of the Introduction to the Devout Life
for several persons.
End of February , 1609.
MY GOD how ! welcome
you my dear child
will be, ;
and how dearly do I feel my soul embrace yours.

Start then on the first fine day you see, after your
horse has rested, which, doubtless, cannot well have
been sent back to you till three days ago, on account
of the rains which have fallen in this country. I
wish that you may have and happy journey,
a good
and that my little daughter may not suffer from the
fatigue of the road, but arriving in good time in the
*
Forty days mind.
evening, and sleeping well, I hope she will be all
right.
M. de Ballon so greatly desires that you should
make your stay with him, that I am forced to desire
it also, good friendship he bears us.
for the
Madame du Puits-cPOrbe had written to say she

wanted to come with you but the season is not
;
proper for her, nor could I wish to have her in
so inconvenient a time as Lent. I wrote to her then
to wait for the true Spring, and to come in a litter,
so that if one of her wishes to accompany her,

sisters
she may be able to do so without the dread of having

to come on horseback. I send the one book for her,
the other for Mademoiselle de Traves, according
to your desire. The Father de Mandi asked me for
one : if you give him the one you have, I will give
you a better one here besides, we must console him.
;
I should like to send some to several persons ;

but I
assure you that only thirty altogether have come into
this country, and I have not been able to supply a
tenth part of those to whom I ought to give them.
It is true that I am not in very great trouble about it,
because I know that there are more yonder than here.
Still Ithought I ought to send one to M. de Chantal,

and that he would be offended if I did not ; so here
it is.
What more have I to say to you, my dear child ?
A thousand things, but I have not leisure for them, as

I want Claude to start without any more waiting.
Only be sure that I am quite full of joy and satisfac-

F F
tion because your Groissy* speaks not only with
respect, but with quite an affectionate love of you and
your two fathers, and, which pleases me most, of my

dear little Aimee. I tell you the truth, he could not
give me more pleasure than by this, and truly I hope

that all go on very well, and that there will
will
remain no subject of discontent to anyone.

Do not be sorry for having written to me about
the twelve-hundred francs ; for you must not be sorry
for anything which occurs with me.
Well then, I shall see plenty of miseries, and we
will talk of them, I hope, as much as we like.
My mother wants you to make your little rest at
Sales, where she will await you accompany you to
here ; but do not think that I will leave you there

without me :
no, certainly not, for either I will wait
for you there, or I will be there as soon as I know
you are. I do not write to your good old attendant
(commere), for I shall have leisure to entertain her

fully and I confess that you have given me much
:
pleasure by putting her in your train, although for

her I shall perhaps have to put myself to expense, in
order that on her return she may give a good account
of my magnificence. You see I am already laughing
in my heart at the expectation of your arrival.
* A brother of St. Francis.

LETTER XL
To MADAME DE CORNILLON, HIS SISTER.
On the death of their mother.
^th March, 1610.
MY DEAREST SISTER, MY CHILD, Let us console our

selvesas best we can in this departure of our good
mother ; for the graces which God has employed, in her

regard, to prepare her for so happy an end, are very
certain marks that her soul is sweetly received into the
arms of his Divine mercy, and that it is blessed by
being delivered and disentangled from the burdens of

this world. And we also, dear sister, shall be blessed
in our turn, if, like her, we live the rest of our days in
the fear and love of our Lord, as we promised one
another that day at Annecy.
His Divine Majesty attracts us thus to the desire of
heaven, drawing thither, little by little, all that was
dearest to us here below. Be then quite consoled,
my dear child ;
and
your heart cannot help feeling
if
pain at this separation,moderate it at least so far by

the acquiescence we owe to the good pleasure of our
Saviour, that his goodness may not be offended, nor

the fruit which he has placed in your womb be badly
affected.
And I must add this word for your contentment :
this poor good mother, before quitting Annecy, revised

all the state of her conscience, renewed all the good
F P 2
resolutions she had made of serving God, and became

so contented with me that more could not be for ;
God did not will that she should be in a state of
melancholy, when he took her to himself. So then,

my dear sister, my child, always love me well ; for I
am more yours than ever and may it please God that
;
you may be able to come and spend the Holy Week

with us ! I should end it very much consoled. Good-
day, my child, I am your brother, &c.
LETTER XII.
On the death of his mother, and her last
nth March, 1610.
BUT, O my God, must we not, my dearest child, in all

and everywhere adore this supreme Providence, whose
counsels are holy, good, and most loveable? And
here has it pleased him to withdraw from this world
our best and dearest mother, to hold her, as I believe
most assuredly, in his own presence and in his right
hand. Let us confess, my well-beloved daughter, let
us confess that God is good, and his mercy endureth
for ever ;* all his wills are just, and his judgment is
right 3 -\ his will is always good,% and his ordinances
most amiable.
*
Ps. cxxxv. f Ps. cxviii. 137*
Rom. xii. 2.
And as for me, I confess, my child, that I feel a
great pain in this separation, for this is the confession

I ought to make of my own weakness, after making
that of the divine goodness. But still, my child, it
has been a tranquil pain, though sharp; for I have
said with David / was dumb, and I opened not my
:
mouth because thou hast done it* Without doubt, if

it had not been so, I should have cried "
stop"
under
this blow, but I do not
should dare to cry
feel that I
out, or to express unwillingness under the strokes of

this paternal hand, which, in truth, thanks to his
goodness, I have learnt to love tenderly from my

youth.
But you would perhaps like to know how this good
woman ended her days. Here is a little account of
it ; for
is to you I speak
it to you, I say, to ;
whom have given the place of this mother in my

I
memento at Mass, without taking from you the place

you had. I could not do it, so firmly do you hold
what you hold in my heart, and thus you are there
first and last.
This mother, then, came here this winter; and,

during the month she stayed, she made a general
review of her soul, and renewed her desires of living
well with very much
and went away entirely
affection,
contented with me, having got from me, as she said,
more consolation than she had ever done. She con
tinued in this state of joy till Ash Wednesday, when
* Ps. xxxviii. 10.

she went to the parish church of Thorens, where she

confessed and communicated with great devotion, and
heard three Masses and Vespers. In the evening,
being in bed, and not being able to sleep, she had
read to her by her maid three chapters of the Intro
duction, to entertain herself with good thoughts, and

had the Protestation marked to make it next morning ;
but God was satisfied and arranged

with her good will,
in another way for when morning came, and this
;
good lady was getting up and having her hair done,

she was taken suddenly with an effusion on the chest
(catarrhe), and fell as if dead.
Mypoor brother, your son, who was still asleep,

runs in as soon as he is told of it, in his night-dress,
and lifts her up and walks her about and helps her
with essences, imperial- waters, and other things which
are judged proper in such accidents, so that she wakens
up and begins to speak, but almost unintelligibly, as

the throat and the tongue were affected.
They come here to call me ; and I go instantly ,
with the doctor and the apothecary, who find her

in a lethargy, and paralysed in half her body; but
lethargic in such sort that she was still easy to rouse

up and in these moments of entire consciousness,
;
she showed perfect clearness of mind, either by the

words she tried to say, or by the movement of her
good hand, that is, the hand of which she still had the
use : for she spoke very appositely of God and her

soul, and took the cross herself, feeling for it (because
she on a sudden became blind) and kissed it. She
took nothing without making the sign of the cross

over it, and so she received the Holy Oil.
On my arrival, all blind and drowsy as she was, she
embraced me tenderly, and said It is my son and :
"
my father, this and kissed me, clasping me with her

"
arm, and kissed my hand before anything else. She

remained in the same state nearly two days and a half,
after which we could not properly rouse her, and on
the 1st of March she yielded her soul to our Lord,

gently and peaceably, and with a dignity and beauty
greater than perhaps she ever had, remaining one of
the loveliest dead I have ever seen.
For the rest, I must also tell you that I had the
courage to give her the Last Blessing, to close her eyes
and her mouth, and to give her the last kiss of peace
at the instant of her departure ;
after which my heart
swelled greatly, and I wept over this good mother more
than ever I have done since I have been in the Church ;
but it was without spiritual bitterness, thank God.
This is all that happened.
But cannot help declaring the excellently good
I
disposition of your son, who has so extremely obliged

"
me by the care and pains he has taken for this mother:

and with such heart that I say if he had been some
stranger, I should be forced to hold him and swear
him (le jurer) for my brother. I know not whether I
am mistaken, but I find him very greatly changed for
* The Baron de Thorens, brother of St. Francis, and son-in-law

of Madame de Chantal.
44 o St. Francis de Sales.
the better, both as to the world, and principally as to

his soul.
Well then, my dear child, we must make our reso
lution this, and ever praise God, even if it

about
pleased him to visit us even more heavily. And now,

if you find it suitable, you will come here for Palm
Sunday ; I say here, because it is not right that you

should spend the good days in the country. Your
little room will expect you ; our little table, acd our
little and simple fare will be prepared and offered with

good heart, I mean with my heart, which is entirely
yours
Now I run over the chief points of your letter.
Our poor little Charlotte is happy in leaving the earth

before she has properly touched it. Alas ! we must
still weep a little over it ; for have we not a human
heart, and a sensitive nature ? Why not weep a little
over our departed, since the Spirit of God not only
allows it, but invites us to it. I have regretted her,
the poor little child, but with a less sensible grief,
because the great feeling of the separation from my
mother took away almost all the sting from the feeling
of this second pain, the news of which arrived whilst
we still had my mother s body in the house. May
God be praised also in this matter. God giveth, God
taketh away, may his holy name be blessed.
LETTER XIII.
To MADAME DE CORNILLON, HIS SISTER.
The Suint consoles her on the death of M. the Baron de Thorens,

their brother.
After 27th May, 1617.
O GOD !
my poor dearest sister, how troubled I am
for the pain which your heart will suffer in the decease
of this poor brother, who was so dear to all of us !
But there is no cure we must stay our wills in that

:
of God, who, if we well consider everything, has greatly

favoured this poor deceased, in having taken him away
from an age and a vocation in which there is so much
danger of damnation.
As for me, my dear child, I have wept more than
once on this occasion ; for I tenderly loved this brother,
and could not help having the feelings of pain which
nature caused me. But now I am quite firm and
comforted, having learnt how devoutly he
departed in
the arms of our Barnabite Father, and of our Chevalier*
after having made his general Confession, been recon
ciled three times, received Communion and Extreme
Unction very piously.
What better can we wish him according to the soul?
And according to the body, he has been assisted so far
that nothing has been wanting to him.
Monseigneur the Cardinal- Prince, and Madame,
* Janus de
Sales, Knight of Malta.
44 2 Sy. Francis de Sales.
the Princess, sent to visit him, and the ladies of the

Court sent him presents of things to eat, and in fine
Monseigneur the Cardinal, after his departure, sent
twelve torches, with the arms of His Highness, to
honour his funeral.
May God then be for ever blessed, for the care he

has taken to gather this soul in amongst his elect :
for, after all, what else can we aim at.
It cannot be expressed what virtue the poor little
widow has shown on this occasion ! We shall keep

her here (at the Visitation) some days longer, until she
is
entirely restored. Never was man more generally
regretted than this one. So then, my dearest child,
let us console our hearts the best
way we can, and
think good all it has pleased God to do for, indeed, :
all he has done is very good.

I make this letter common to my dearest brother
(in-law) and you, in the hope of seeing you soon.
May God for ever bless your heart, my dearest sister,

my child, and I am without end most perfectly all
yours, and your, &c.
LETTER XIV.
Perfect resignation of the Saint.

MY DEAREST MOTHER, You will see in the letter of
this good Father my pain. It has, indeed, a little

touched me, but the news having come during the

feeling which I had of a total resignation to the con
duct of divine Providence, I said nothing in my heart,
except Yes, heavenly Father, for so it hath seemed

:
good in thy sight* And this morning, at my first
awaking, I experienced such a strong impression of a

desire to live altogether according to the spirit of
faith,and the highest part of the soul, that, in spite

of soul and heart, I willed whatever God willed, and I
will that which is for his greater service, without reserve,
and without sensible or spiritual consolation ; and I pray

God never to let me
change my resolution.
I havehad since Easter perpetual inconveniences,

but I saw no remedy, and also no danger they are ;
altogether gone ; thanks to God, whom I beseech to

send them back to me, when he pleases.
A thousand most loving salutations to your dear soul,
my dearest mother, to whom God has given me after
an incomparable manner.
LETTER XV.
To THE SAME.
Profound peace of the Saint amidst his affairs. Mark of his
humility. He
permits ladies some innocent recreations, under
the name of halls. He announces that he is going to work at
the Treatise on the Love of God.
No, my dearest child, I have had no news of you these

three whole months ; and, indeed, I cannot believe that
* Matt. xi. 26.
444 -SV- Francis de Sales.
you have sent me any. The longer the news delays,

the more I wish it good. I confess that my heart
importunes me a little in this regard; but I pardon it
these little ardours, for it is paternal, and more than

paternal. Will you really believe what I am going to
tell
you ? I received, some time ago, the little book,
on The Presence of God; it is a little work, but I
have not yet been able to read it through, to tell you
what I think of for
your service.
it It is incredible
how I am hustled hither and thither by affairs; but,
my dear child, you will distress yourself if I do not

add that still, thanks to my God, my poor and weakly
heart never had more repose, nor will to love his
Divine Majesty, whose special assistance I feel for this
purpose.
O my dearest child ! what great pleasure you gave
me one day on recommending to me holy humility !
Do you know that when the wind gets into our

valleys, amidst our mountains, it takes the bloom off
the little flowers, but roots up the trees ; and I, who
am placed somewhat high in this charge of bishop,
suffer the greater attacks. Lord, save us ; com
mand these winds of vanity and there will come a great
calm* Keep yourself quite firm, and clasp very
closely this foot of the sacred cross of our Lord the ;
rain which falls from all parts of it, calms down the
wind, great as may it be. When I am there some
times, O God, how is ray soul at peace, and what

sweetness does this dew, rosy and ruddy, give to it t
* Matt. viii.
But I scarcely move one step away from it, and the
wind begins again.
I do not know where you will be this Lent accord
ing to the body ; according to the spirit I think yon
will be in the cavern of the turtle, and the pierced
side of our dear Saviour : I fully mean to try to be

often there you; may God by his sovereign
with
goodness give us the grace Yesterday I seemed to !
see you, looking at the open side of our Saviour, and
wishing to take his heart to put it into your own, as

a king in a little kingdom ;
and though his is greater
than yours, still he could make it little to accommodate
it. How good is this Lord, my dear child ! how
amiable is his heart
let us stay there in that holy
!
dwelling let this heart live

;
always in our heart, this
blood seethe ever in the veins of our souls.
How pleased I am that we have cut the wings of
Carnival (Careme-prenant) in this town, and that it
scarcely knows How I congratulated upon it,

itself!
last dear people, who had come in extra

Sunday, my
ordinary numbers to hear the evening sermon, and
who had given up all amusement to come to me I !
was greatly pleased that this was so, and that all our
ladies had communicated in the morning, and that
they did not dare to have balls without asking leave :
and I am not hard with them :* for I ought not to
be, since they are so good, and so devout.

I am going to put my hand to the book of the Love
of God, and will try to write as much on my heart as
* See note
p. 97.
44 6 -5V. Francis de Sales.
on the paper. Be all to God ; I hope more every day

in him, that we shall do much in our plan of life.
My God, dearest child, how tenderly and ardently I
feel the advantage and sacred tie of our holy unity !
I preached a sermon this morning all of flames, for I
felt it ; I must say so to you. My God ! what bless
ings I wish you, and you cannot think how I am

urged at the altar to recommend you more than ever
to our Lord. What more have I to say to you,
except that we should live with a life all dead, and
die with a death all living and vivifying in the life
and death of our king, of our flower, and our Saviour,
in whom I am, your, &c.
LETTER XVI.
To THE SAME.
On 7m soul. The mil.
1 4th July, 1615.
THIS esteem of ourselves, my dear child, is so

false
favoured by self-love, that reason can do nothing
against it. It is the fourth thing difficult to Solomon,

and which he said was unknown to him way of the
a man in his youth* God gives M. N. much grace

in his having his grandfather to watch over him.
May he long enjoy this blessing.

* Prov. xxx.
19.
O my child ! Be sure that ray heart awaits the
day of your consolation with as much ardour as yours.

But wait, my dearest sister; wait with waiting* to
use the words of Scripture. Now, to wait with wait
ing not to disquiet yourself in waiting ; for there

is
are many who in waiting do not wait, but trouble and

excite themselves.
We shall make way, dear child, helping God
and :
a great mass of little crosses and secret contradictious
which have come upon my peace, give me the most

sweet and delightful hope possible, and foretell,
me seems, the near establishment of my soul in its
God. He is, certainly, not only the great, but, as I
think, the unique ambition and passion of my soul, in
which I include that soul which God has insepar
ably joined with mine.

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

and being more sensible to eternal goods.
If I were as truly and strongly joined to God as I
am absolutely detached from the world, dear
Saviour, how happy should I be ! And you, my

* Ps. xxxix. i.
child, how satisfied would you be ? But I speak of
the interior and my opinion (sentiment) : for my

exterior, and, what is worse, my conduct (deporte-
ments) are full of a great variety of contrary imper

fections ;
and the good that I will I do not ;* but still
I know well that in truth and without pretence I will
it, and with an unalterable will.
But, my child, how can it be that with such a will,
so many imperfections appear and spring up in me ?

Certainly, it is not of my will, nor by my will, though
in my will and on my will. It is, I think, like the
mistletoe, which grows and appears on a tree, and in

a tree, though not of the tree, nor by the tree. O
God why do I tell you all this, save because my
!
heart always opens forth and pours itself out without

limits when it is with yours.
you were staying where you are, I should be

If
very glad to undertake the service which the Rev.

Father N. desires of me for this lady but as you are :
not, it seems to me that another, whom she will have

a chance of seeing often er, will make himself more
useful for this good work ; and meanwhile I will pray
our Lord for her : for on the good news you give me
of her, I begin to love her tenderly, poor woman.
Ah ! what a consolation to see this poor soul grow
green again, after a winter so hard, so long, and
so bitter. I am to you what God knows. Amen.
* Kom. vii. 15.
LETTER XVII.
To A LADY.
He blames one of his spiritual daughtersy who, in speaking
of him, said extravagant things in his praise.
22nd Aprilj 1618.
MY DEAREST DAUGHTER OF MY HEART, Know that I

have a daughter, who tells me that my departure has
caused her an agony of pain ; that if she did not
restrain her eyes they would shed as many tears as
the sky rains drops of water, to lament my departure,

and such fine words. But she goes very much
farther; for she says that I am not a man, but some
divinity sent to be loved and admired ; and, she adds

this notable speech that she would go to much greater
extremes if she dared.
What are you saying, my dearest daughter does :
itseem to you that she is not wrong to speak so ?

Are not these extravagant words ? Nothing can
excuse them except the love which she bears me, which
is indeed quite holy, but expressed in worldly terms.
Now, tell her, my dearest child, that we must

never attribute, in one fashion or another, Divinity to
frailcreatures ; and that to think of even going
further in praise is an improper thought or at least
;
to say it is to say improper words that she must

;
have more care to avoid vanity in words than in hair

or dress that for the future her language must be
;
G O
plain and not frizzled (frise). But still, tell it her so
gently, amiably and holily, that she may take this

it proceeds from my heart, which
reprimand well :
is more than paternal. This you know, being truly
daughter most dear of my heart, and daughter in

whom I have put full confidence. May God be for
ever our love, my dearest daughter, and live in him
and for him eternally. Amen.
A feiv years earlier the Saint had spoken to Madame
de Chant al on a similar occasion, as follows :
My daughter, I am
but vanity, and yet I do not
esteem myself as much as you esteem me. I greatly
wish you knew me properly ; you would not cease to

have an absolute confidence in me, but you would
scarcely esteem me. You would say he is a reed on :
which God wants me to lean : I am

perfectly safe,
because God wills it so ; the reed, however, is good for
nothing.
Yesterday, after having read your letter, I walked
two turns, with my eyes full of tears, at seeing what I
am, and what I am thought to be. I see then that
you esteem me, and inethinks this esteem gives you

much satisfaction r that, my child, is an idol. Still,
be not troubled about this ; for God is not offended
by sins of the understanding, although we are bound

to keep from them if possible. Yonr strong affections
will grow calmer every day by frequent actions of

indifference.
Letters of the Saint about himself. 45 1
LETTER XVIII.
To A CUBE OF THE DIOCESE OF GENEVA.
He recommends to him the conversion of an heretical doctor

who was treating Madame de Cliantal.
MONSIEUR, my dear Confrere, and my entire friend, I

send this on the return of that poor doctor who has
not been able to cure our mother, and whom I have
not been able to cure. Ah !
ought a son to kill the
joy of his father s soul? With what good heart
would our dear patient give her life for her doctor !
And I, poor miserable shepherd, what would not I

give for the salvation of this unhappy sheep Vive !
Dieu, before whom I live and speak, I would give my

skin to clothe him, my blood to salve his wounds, and
my temporal lifehim from eternal death.

to save
Why do I say this to you, my dear friend, save

to encourage you, for fear the neighbouring wolves
should break in upon your sheep, or to speak more
paternally, according to the feelings of my soul, and

this poor Genevois. Take care that no infected sheep
hurts the dear and well-beloved flock ! Watch care
fully all round about this fold ; and often tell them :
Let fraternal charity abide in you ;* and above all
pray to him who has said / am the good shepherd$

:
that he may animate our care, our love, and our

words.
* Heb. xiii. I.
f John x. 14.
G G 2
I recommend to your sacrifices this poor sick

doctor. Say three Masses for this intention, that he
may be able to heal our mother and we may be able
to heal him. She is
very ill, good mother, and
this
my spirit is a little in trouble about her illness ; I say

a little and I mean much. I know, however, that if
the Sovereign Architect of this new congregation wishes

to take away the first foundation stone that he has
laid, to put it in the holy Jerusalem, he well knows

what he means to do with the rest of the building ;
in this knowledge, I remain in peace, and remain

your, &c.
LETTER XIX.
To A FRIEND.
He complains of not being able to give himself to study.
1 2th September, 1613.
SIR, I regret that you and Monsieur de N. are at
Paris for so troublesome an occasion ;

but since there
is no help, it behoves that you soften the pain by
patience.
And as for me I am in a continual turmoil which
the variety of the affairs of this diocese unceasingly
produces, without a single day in which I can look

at my poor books which I so loved once, and which
I no longer dare to love now, for fear that the divorce
Letters q/ the Saint about himself. 453
from them into which I have fallen might become
more cruel and afflicting.
We have a little country where, just lately, has
been re-established the power of the church by the
king s authority, and according to the Edict of Nantes ;
but this restoration occupies me more in disputing

with the ministers for the temporal goods of the
church which they keep from us, than in persuading
them or the people of the truth of the spiritual goods
to which they should aspire; for it is a marvel how
these serpents stop their ears not to hear the voice of
the charmers,* how wisely and holily soever they
charm.
There are there asufficient number of very good
pastors, and of good Capuchin Fathers, who not being

heard by men are seen by God. He, without doubt,
is
quite contented with their present barrenness, which
he will reward afterwards with a plentiful harvest,
and if they sow in tears they shall reap in joy.^ I
have occupied you quite enough, sir, for the renewal
of our intercourse, which I intend, God helping, to

continue, and I intend not to cease recalling to your
mind that I am invariably, sir, your, &c.
* Ps. Ivii.
5. f Ps. cxxv. 5.
454 -5V- Francis de Sales.
LETTER XX.
To AN ECCLESIASTIC.
On friendship.
MY VERY DEAR BROTHER, The question you ask me is

this : not your heart love mine truly, and al
"Will
ways, and in all occurrences ? and

my answer is O :
my dearest brother ! It is a maxim of three great
lovers, all three saints, all three doctors of the church,

all three great friends, all three great masters of
moral theology, St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, St. Augus
tine Amicitia quce desinere potuit nunquam vera fuit.*

:
There, my dear brother, there is the sacred oracle

which announces to you the invariable law of the
eternity of our friendship, since it is holy and not
feigned (sainte et non feinte), founded on verity and
not on vanity, on the communication of spiritual
goods and not on the interest or commerce of temporal

goods. To love truly and to cease loving are two
incompatible things.
The friendships of the children of the world are of
the nature of the world ; the world passes, and all its
friendships pass ;
but ours is of God, in God, and for
God : Thou art always the self-same, and thy years
shall not fail.\ The world passeth away, and the
concupiscence thereof: Christ passeth not away, nor
his dilection. Infallible conclusion.
*
Friendship which could end was never true.
Ps. ci. 28.
Letters of the Saint about himself .
455
Your dear sister writes ever to me with so much

outpouring of her dear love that truly she deprives
me of the power of thanking her properly. I say the
same of you, begging you to thank one another for
the satisfaction you give me.

For the send then the portrait of this ter
rest, I
restrial man, so entirely am I without the power to
refuse anything to your desire.
I am told that I have never been well painted,
and I think it matters little. Man passeth as an
image ; yea, and
he is disquieted in, vain.* I have
borrowed it to give to you, for I have none of my
own. Alas if that of my Creator were in its lustre

!
in my soul, with what good will would you look upon

it ! O Jesu ! tuo lumine, tuo redemptos sanguin-e san,
refove, perfice, tibi conformss effice.
Amen.
LETTER XXI.
To MADAME DE CHANTAL, AT PARIS,
The Saint expresses his disgust for the court, and for the
condition of a courtier.
2-gth December, 1619.
I ASSURE you, and dearest mother, that the

my best
sight of the grandeur of the world makes

the grandeur
of Christian virtues appear grander to me, and makes
* Ps, xxxviii. 7.
me more highly esteem its contempt. What a differ
ence, my dearest mother, between the assemblage of

various suitors (pretendants) for the court is this and
nothing but this and the assemblage of religious
souls, who have no pretensions save for heaven. Oh !
if we knew in what consists true good !
Do not believe, my dearest mother, that any favour

of the court can attach me. O God how much
! more
desirable a thing is it to bo poor in the house of God,
than to dwell in the palaces of kings. I am here
making my novitiate for the court, but I will never

make my profession in it, God helping. On Christ
mas Eve I preached before the Queen at the Capuchins,
where she made her communion; but I assure you
that I preached neither better nor more willingly
before all the princes and princesses, than I do in our
poor little Visitation at Annecy.

O God my ! dearest mother, we must put our heart
entirely in God, and never take it from him. He alone
is our peace, our consolation, and our glory what :
remains for us but to unite ourselves more and more

to this Saviour, that we may bring jorth good fruit ?
Are we not blessed, my dearest mother, in being able
to graft our stock on that of the Saviour, who is
grafted on the Divinity ? For this sovereign essence is
the root of that tree, whose branches we are, and
whose fruit our love is : this was my subject this
morning.
Courage, my uniquely dear mother, let us not cease
to throw our hearts into God they are the perfume-
:
ballswhich he loves to compound let us allow him ;
to make them as he likes. Yes, Lord Jesus, do all at

your our hearts; for we wish neither part nor
will with
portion therein, but give, consecrate., and sacrifice them

to you for ever. So then, remain always in perfect
peace in the arms of our Saviour who loves us dearly,
and whose holy love ought alone to serve as our general
rendezvous for all our conversations : this holy love,
my mother, in which ours is founded, enrooted, grows

and is fed, will be eternally perfect and lasting. I
salute our sisters affectionately. I am grieved that our

Sister N. has the fancy of changing houses. When
shall we not wish anything, but entirely leave solicitude
to those whose duty it is to will for us what is needed ?
But cannot be helped our own will is bridled by

it :
obedience, and still we cannot keep it from rearing up,

and prancing. We must bear the infirmity. Much
time elapses before we become entirely despoiled of
ourselves, and of the pretended right of judging what
is best for us and desiring it. I admire the little Infant
of Bethlehem, who knew so much, who had such power,
and who, without saying a word, let himself be handled,
and bound, and fastened, and wrapt up as required.
May God ever be in in the midst of your heart and
mine, my dearest mother.
LETTER XXII.
To THE SAME.
Disinterestedness of the Saint.
ntJi May, 1620.
WELL, MY MOTHER, I am in your parlour, where I

have had to come to write these four or five letters
which I send you. I must then tel] you that I cannot
think anything should be done in the matter you know
of,* if God does not wish it with his absolute will ; for,
firstly, there was what I said immediately to Monsieur

the Cardinal, namely, that if I left my wife (his see)
it would be to have no more. I manage to get on,
though with great difficulty, and to bear the burdens

of my present see, with which I have grown old; but
with one quite new to me, what should I do ? The
will of God alone, manifested by my superior, the Pope,
can draw me from this path,
2. My brother then is bishop :f that does not enrich

me, it is true ; but it relieves me, and gives me some
hope of being able to get out of the crowd. That is
worth more than a cardinal s hat.

3. But your nephews will be poor ? My mother, I
consider that they are already less so than when they

were born ; for they were born naked : and besides,
two or three thousand crowns, or even four, would not
give me enough to help them without lowering the
* The
Coadjutorship of Paris. f Coadjutor to the Saint.
Letters of tlie Saint about him self. 459
reputation of a prelacy, and in which are required

so many alms, works, just and necessary
pious
expenses.
4. Here
His Highness who tells me that he abso
is
lutely insists on my accompanying Monseigneur the

Cardinal, his sen, to Rome and, in fact, it will be
:
useful even for the service of the Church that I should

make this journey :
though in good truth, my mother,
it is not according to my inclination. After all, it is
ever going, and I like to rest, and it is going to court,

and I like simplicity. But there is no help ; as it must
be, I will do it, and with good-will, and meantime the
thoughts of that great prelate yonder will have leisure

to melt away. Let us then speak no more of it except
according to occurrences, my mother.

I am for ever, without reserve and without com
parison, that is, beyond all comparison, yours, and
certainly, as you know very well yourself, I am yours
very perfectly.
LETTER XXIII.
To THE SAME.
Acquiescence of the Saint in the Divine Will.
MY DEAREST MOTHER, These few words go, by an

unexpected opportunity, to salute your dear soul,
which I cherish as mine own and such it is, in him :
who is the principle of all unity and union.

I cannot deny that I am grieved about your fever ;
but do not pain yourself about my pain, for you know

me. I am a man to suffer, without suffering, all it
will pleaseGod to do with you as with me. Ah we !
must make no reply nor reflection.

I confess before Heaven and the angels that you
are precious to me as myself; but this takes not from

me the most determined resolution to acquiesce fully
in the Divine will. We wish to serve God in this
world, anywhere, with all that we are : if He judge it
better that we should be in this world, or in the other,
or in both, His most holy will be done, since I am

inseparable from your soul; and to speak with the
Holy Spirit, we have henceforward but one heart and
one soul: for what is said of all the Christians of
the early Church, is found, thanks to God, in us.
I will say no more save that I am better, and my

heart goes better than it has done for a long time ;
but I know not whether the consolation comes from
natural causes or from grace.
May God ever be in the midst of your heart, to

fill it with His holy love ! Amen. Vive Jesus, my
dearest Mother, I am as you know yourself, ever
more entirely yours.
Letters of the Saint about himself. 46 1
LETTER XXIV.
To M. FAVRE.
The thought of eternity.
MY BROTHER, I finish this year with the satisfaction
of being able to present you the wish I make you for
the following.
They pass then away, these temporal years, my

brother; their months melt into weeks, weeks into
days, days into hours, and hours into moments, which

last are all we possess : and these we only possess as
they perish and make up our perishable life. This
life, however must on this account be more dear to us,

since being full of misery, we cannot have any more
solid consolation therein than that of being assured
that it gradually disappears to make room for that
holy eternity which is prepared for us in the abun

dance of God s mercy. To this eternity our soul
aspires incessantly by the continual thoughts its very
nature suggests to it, though it cannot have hope for
eternity except by other and higher thoughts

which
the author of nature bestows upon it.
Truly, my brother, I never think of eternity with

out much sweetness; for, say I, how could my soul
extend thought to this infinity unless it has some
its
kind of proportion with it? Certainly, a faculty

which attains an object must have some sort of cor
respondence with it. But when 1 find that my dcsirei
runs after my thought upon this same eternity, my

joy takes an unparalleled increase, for I know that
we never desire, with a true desire, anything which is
not possible. My desire then assures me that I can
have eternity : what remains for me but to hope that
I shall have it ? And this is given to me by the
knowledge of the infinite goodness of him who would
not have created a soul capable of thinking of and
tending towards eternity, unless he has intended to
give the means of attaining it. Thus, my brother,
we shall find ourselves at the foot of the crucifix,
which is the ladder by which from these temporal
years we pass to the eternal years.
I wish then about your dear soul that this next
year may be followed by many others, and that all
may be usefully employed for the conquest of eternity.

Live long, holily, and happily amongst your own here
below during these perishable moments, to live again
eternally in that unchangeable felicity for which we
pant. See how my heart pours itself out before
yours, and expresses itself according to that confidence

which is given it by the aifection which makes me
yours, &c.
Letters of the Saint aboiit himself. 463
LETTER XXV.
To A LADY.
Contempt of the grandeurs of this world. Desires of Eternity.
Lyons, 1 9 th December, 1622.
A THOUSAND THANKS to your well-beloved heart, my

dearest daughter, for the favours it does to my soul, in
giving; it such sweet proofs of its affection. My God !
How blessed are they who, with hearts disengaged

from courts and from the forms which reign there,
live peacefully in holy solitude at the foot of the
crucifix. Truly, I never had a good opinion of
but I find it much more vain amid the feeble
vanity,
grandeurs of the court.
My dearest daughter, the more I advance in this
mortality, the more contemptible I find it, and ever

more loveable the holy eternity to which we aspire,
and for which only we must love one another. Let us
live only for this eternal life, which alone deserves the
name of comparison with which the life of the
life, in
of this world is a very miserable death.

great
I am with ail my heart very truly all yours, my
dearest daughter. Your, &c.
THE END.
*-
2l79 F7 L5713 1890

SltfC
Francis, de Sales,
Saint, 1567-1622.
Letters to persons in
the world /
AWT-9653 (sk)

Letters To Persons by Saint Francis de Sales

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T.

ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.

I. LETTERS TO PERSONS IN THE WORLD.

WORKS OF THIS DOCTOR OF THE CHURCH

REV. HENRY BENEDICT MACKEY, O.S.B.

UNDER THE DIRECTION AND PATRONAGE OF

RIGHT REV. JOHN CUTHBERT HEDLEY, O.S.B.

Bishop of Newport and Mencria.

:.-LETTERS TO PERSONS IN THE WORLD.

WITH PREFACE BY BISHOP HEDLEY.

The Perfection of Charity is the Perfection of Life.&quot; Book vi. c. 52.

NEW YORK, CINCINNATI, AND ST. LOUIS:

MANY besides myself will have heard with great

complete and careful English translation of the works

that he has written. Those who use the English tongue

of the Church during the time which has elapsed since

Humanity of Our Lord which is enforced by this great

Besides bringing back the children of the

of their Father s house, it has done much to preserve

degenerating into mere duty,

or love of one another, or self-

the simple by the thought that the highest

St. Francis de Sales, it is needless to say, wrote before

seugcr from heaven who alights upon a confusion and

Nothing is gained by exaggerating the state into

those fugitive letters to Madame de Charmoisy which

Imitation of Christ/ we must not forget that the

Spiritual Combat&quot; was at that very time coming into

beyond redemption or improvement. On the other

hand, the Catholic religion was upheld by the State ;

honoured, and ceremonies were largely

attended, and many of its preachers were followed by

to be a good Christian, had great difficulty in knowing

them do as they pleased. Court life or in other

words, a life of ease, wealth, distinction and refine

ment was, and is, a necessity. No doubt such a life

is fullof danger. But the worst possible result that

or put a stop to, two nearly related evils that

slightingly called the Apostle of the

The phrase sounds odious enough; but in his days it

was very significant. And when we remember that it

was chiefly to make a gentleman a true and humble

There is a letter of his,* addressed to a young gen

which contains all St. Francis s mind on this

was mature and his idea had been well thought

Sir/you are about to hoist sail and

venture on the high seas of this world you are going ;

lutely themost dangerous of any, for persons of mag

inevitably does on such occasions) the example of his

you were a courtier of St. Louis. Well did the holy

king like a man to be brave, courageous, generous,

good-humoured, courteous, polite, candid, and refined;

have been seen serving the poor in the hospital ; in a

he is a Christian, or less Christian because he is a man.

what order, and in what way to practise each different

Few, perhaps, have well considered what the benefits

Christianity intended to sanctify the world, and not

to abolish the world ; and the world is not, and can

The Perfection of Charity is the Perfection of Life." Book vi. c. 52.

Spiritual Combat" was at that very time coming into

whatever relates to real "

peared under the title Letters to Persons in the "

Lettres de S. Frar^ois de Sales a des Gens du Monde."

Practical Piety ;"

one should strive to remain passive" She translates (p. 356).

faith ;" by important for the confirmation of the faith"

that infdme Rabelais," she says simply

Rabelais." So she omits the word

Fran9ois de Sales/" by M. Hamon, Cure of S. Sulpice.