-

Yale University Library
Presented in Memory of
Charles Andrew Armstrong Bennett
Professor of Philosophy in Yale University
By Several of his Friends

This Memorial Collection
was Established in 1 934 with the Books
on Mysticism Gathered in London by
Edward H'ubbard Russell Ph.B. 1878
Yale College .**'

FENELON'S SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

$rljil abslai.
•J. JOANNES CUTHBERTUS,
Epus. Menev. et Newport,
Smprhrmte. •i> JOANNES, Epus. Southwarcensis.

Die 20 Octobris, 1803.

THE SPIRITUAL LETTERS

FRANCOIS DE SALIGNAC DE LA MOTHE FENELON,
ARCHBISHOP OF CAMBRAI.

Translated from the text edited by the Abbe Gosselin of Saint Sulpice,
and published by Le Clere, Paris, 1827 and 1850.

Letters to Anonymous Correspondents;
to Mesdames de Gramont, de Risbourg, and
de noaillesj
and to the duc de bourgogne and those about him.

LONDON:
ST. ANSELM'S SOCIETY,
6, Agar Street, Strand.
1893.

<cr3S3
^3<S

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.

The second and last volume of Fenelon's Spiritual
Letters herewith presented to the reader, is composed
of the following three sets of letters : letters to anony
mous correspondents, arranged under five different
heads according to their subject-matter ; letters to the
Comtesse de Gramont, the Marquise de Risbourg, and
the Duchesse de Noailles ; and, finally, letters to the
Duke de Chevreuse and his relatives surrounding the
Duke de Bourgogne, and to the Duke de Bourgogne
himself. The first two sets are translated from the sixth
section of the Correspondance de Fenelon, contained in
volumes 5 and 6 of Le Clere's edition, Paris, 1827 ;
-with one letter, our No. 221, taken from the supple
mentary volume — Lettres et Opuscules Inedits de Fenelon —
published by Le Clere in 1850. The third set is
translated from the first section of his Correspondance,
volume 1 of Le Clere's edition.
Only a few of the letters of this third set are
usually included in editions or translations of Fenelon's
Lettres Spirituelles, so that this translation is not only
much fuller than any hitherto existing English transla
tion, but is also considerably more complete than any

Vlll TRANSLATOR S NOTE.
French edition of the Lettres Spirituelles, even including
the admirable edition of M. Sylvestre de Sacy.
The original order of publication of the letters has
been preserved within each set ; and the order of the
sets has been preserved as far as was compatible with
dividing the whole body of Spiritual Letters into two
volumes without breaking up any one set. This latter
requirement it is which has necessitated some change in
the order of the sets,' and the re-numbering of the large
majority of the letters.

CONTENTS.

LETTERS
to different persons in the world who are beginning to
lead a Christian Life.
fage
I. (31.) How sweet the ways of God are to any one who
will follow them with love. Advice as to a rule of life . . 1
2. (32.) On the happiness of giving one's self to God, and
giving up everything else, by a true conversion . . 6
3. (33.) Entreaties to a person, irresolute about his con
version . . 10
4. (34.) On the dangers of indolence and dissipation.
Rules of conduct, for fighting against these, and overcoming
them . ... .14
5. (35.) Some advice upon meditation, and how to derive
profit from spiritual reading . . .22
6. (36.) Various recommendations, as to interior and
•exterior conduct ... 25
7. (37.) Rules of conduct for a soul newly returned to God . 29
8. (38.) Showing how we must not be in a hurry to give
up our employments, under pretence of the dissipation to
which they may expose us • • 33
9. (39.) Advice as to the manner of making mental prayer,
¦and performing other exercises of piety . . 35
To an Officer of the Army.
10. (41.) He reproaches him affectionately for his errors,
and exhorts him to resume those practices of religion, which
formerly gave him so many consolations 49
n. (42.) To the same. Telling him to despise the opinion
-of the world, and to show himself openly a Christian . 52
12. (43.) To the same. Showing that the unction of
Divine grace can supply the place of spiritual reading, when
we are not able to make it. Instructions on the practice of
recollection in the midst of the ordinary distractions of life . 55

CONTENTS.

13. (44.) To the same. A method of prayer for beginners. 56
14. (45.) To the same. On the same subject . 59
15. (46.) To the same. On the practice of habitual recol
lection. Advice for the time of prayer . . 62
16. (47.) To the same. On the practice of recollection.
Advice as to games of chance and secular songs 63
17. (48.) To the same. Showing how a man in a position
of dignity ought to endeavour to moderate the passions of the
young people about the Court, and" of the discipline he should
maintain amongst the troops . . . . .66
To a Friend.
18. (49.) Telling him how to bear the constraint of his
position in a spirit of penance ; and how to despise the
criticisms of the world 70
z9- (5°) To the same friend. Telling him to be very
cautious in his judgments 72
20. (51.) To the same friend. Telling him to bear
patiently with his own faults, and not to reason too much
about himself . . 73.
21. (52.) To the same friend. Telling him to avoid haughti
ness and decision ; and to practise gentleness and humility 74
22. (53.) To the same friend. On bearing with others;
and on prayer 75
23. (54.) To the same friend. On the good use of illness ;
and on distrust of one's own judgment 76-
24- (55-) To the same friend. On moderation in all things.
Exhortation to a simple and candid course of conduct 77
25. (56.) To the same friend. Different counsels for a
wise and Christian rule of life 79
26. (57.) To the same friend. He tells him to avoid
haughtiness, and to apply himself to the practice of humility 81
27. (58.) To the same friend. Telling him to die to his
natural inclinations, and to live in an entire dependence upon
Divine grace. . 83.
28. (59.) To the same friend. Exhortations to frankness,
to sincerity, to humility, and to the avoidance of curiosity
of mind 84
29. (60.) To the same friend. On the effects of a Christian
friendship 85
To a Gentleman of the Court.
30. (61.) In reply to queries as to the sanctification of
indifferent actions ; and upon the manner of performing his
exercises of piety . . . . . .86-

CONTENTS. XI

To an Officer of the Army.

page

31. (62.) Telling him how to persevere amidst the dangers
of his profession . . 94
32. (63.) On meditation, on the choice of reading, and on
the holy liberty with which we should act in all things 95
To A Lady who was leading a Devout Life,
33. (64.) That we must listen to God, and not to our
self-love . 98
34. (65.) To the same. How to place ourselves in the
presence of God, without effort 99
35. (66.) To the same. That we must quietly fight against
the wanderings and the frivolity of our imagination . 100
36. (67.) To the same. Upon the same subject 101
37. (68.) To the same. Containing a reply to various
difficulties with regard to interior attraction, recollection,
openness of heart, &c. And the course of conduct to be
pursued towards creatures 101
38. (69.) To the same. Various counsels upon prayer . 104
39. (70.) To the same. On the usefulness of privations . 105
40. (71.) To the same. On the precautions to be taken
against illusion . 106
41. (72.) To the same. That we must prefer charity and
humility to our reputation and desire of knowledge 106
42- (73-) To the same. Various counsels for interior peace 108
To a young Lady, living in the world and leading
a Devout Life.
43. (74.) How to make a good use of the present moment.
Exhortation to recollection and humility 109
44. (75.) To the same. That we should prefer peace and
edification to our own justification no-
45. (76.) To the same. On the peril of being approved of
by men. The character of true humility. The means of
remedying distraction and dryness in
46. (77.) To the same. That we must bear insults with
humility and in silence . 113
47. (78.) To the same. That we must apply ourselves to
recollection and humility ; and repress our natural curiosity
in our choice of reading 115
48. (79.) To the same. That we are not to excite ourselves
about the vices and faults of others, but refer all quietly to
God, and do our own duty faithfully . 117

Xll CONTENTS.

fage
49. (80.) To the same. How we must seek our friends in
God, and mortify ourselves .... 118
50. (81.) To the same. On the advantages of seeing our
selves near death ... . .119
51. (82.) To the same. That we must bear quietly the
low opinion which others may have of us . . . 120
52. (83.) To the same. On the necessity and happiness of
suffering in this life ... . iai
53. (84.) To the same. That we must deaden our natura
activity . . .... 123
54. (85.) To the same. That we must be condescending
to others, and yet preserve a firmness that is necessary to
prevent us from being drawn into laxity . . 124
55. (86.) To the same. That our natural disposition is
not overcome all at once . . 125
56. (87.) To the same. That we must keep all our affec
tions for God . . 127
57. (88.) To the same. That we must carry the spirit of
prayer into all that we do . 128
58. (89.) To the same. That we must take care of our
Trodily strength, and mortify natural activity . . 129
59. (90.) To the same. Against eagerness and natural
vivacity . . . .131
60. (91.) To the same. Showing why God permits the
-diminution of sensible fervour . . . 131
61. (92.) To the same. On the usefulness of feeling our
weakness in the presence of death. How we should bear the
loss of those we love . . . 133
62. (93.) To the same. That we must accustom ourselves
to the loss of that which flatters us, in the matter of sensible
fervour and recollection . . 135
63. (94.) To the same. Advice for the interior and
-exterior, when we are in desolation . . . 136
64- (95-) To the same. On the means of preserving peace
with others . . 137
65. (96.) To the same. On the painful impression that we
feel at the thought of death . . ¦ 139
66. (97.) To the same. That we must abandon ourselves
-to God, obey, keep silence, and suffer . 140
67. (98.) To the same. On the value of exercises of piety,
performed without relish, and with difficulty for the pure love
of God .... 142
68. (gg.) To the same. What we must do when we find
¦ourselves in peace ...... 144

CONTENTS. Xlll

fage
69. (100.) To the same. How we ought to bear the thought
of death, when the weakness of old age shows us that it is
drawing near us ...... 145
Letters to various persons of piety living in the
WORLD.
70. (101.) That the pains we take with our souls ought to
be applied more to the interior than the exterior. That our
prayer ought to extend to all we do . . . 147
71. (102.) On detachment from the world . . 151
72. (103.) That we must unite exactitude with liberty of
spirit . -153
73. (104.) That prayer is good for everything, and our own
spirit, exactly the contrary. That we must persevere in the
way of perfection . . . . . . 1 56
74. (105.) That we must bear with the faults of others, and
easily suffer ourselves to be reproved . . 158
75. (106.) Exhortations to condescension towards the faults
and imperfections of others . . . . 159
76. (107.) That hearts united in God are always together,
although distance of place may separate them . 161
77. (108.) How the infidelities of one person grieve the
Spirit of God in the soul of another person whom the same
grace unites to the unfaithful one .... 162
78. (109.) That the union of souls ought to be an associa
tion, not for life, but for death, as regards the exterior as well
as the interior .... 163
79. (no.) Advice to a person drawn to recollection, who
was thinking of entering a convent . . . 165
80. (in.) To the same. Advice as to the choice of society.
That we must not reason too much upon our interior state 167
81. (112.) How, in our common centre, we are united, so
as to become, in a manner, one . . . 169
Counsels upon the Exercise of Direction.
82. (113.) Upon scruples and their remedy . . . 171
83. (114.) Upon the importance of communicating little
things, and of renouncing intellectual self-complacency . 173
84. (115.) That we must be faithful in declaring our
interior troubles . . . 174
85. (116.) Why and how we ought to disclose our troubles.
On the manner of conversing with God . . . . 175
86. (117.) That our simplicity in opening our hearts must
be without any reserve of self-love. That we must not be
angry and vexed with ourselves, at the sight of our faults . 177

XIV CONTENTS.

page
87. (118.) That we cannot find peace in listening to
ourselves . . .180
¦ 88. (119.) That we must make our imperfections profitable
for our humiliation. That we must regard God only in His
creatures . 180
89. (120.) That we must courageously renounce the
human supports which God takes away from us 181
90. (121.) Against excessive attachment to the consolations
-we receive from the guidance of a particular director . 183
91. (122.) On the necessity of listening to God, and to
those whom He gives us to be our guides . . 184
92. (123.) How we ought to act towards a weak and
dissipated person . . 185
93. (124.) That we must not press a soul too much when
God is leading it ; but accommodate ourselves to the grace
it has, and wait for God's time . . . 187
94. (125.) That we must not be disgusted with the imper
fections of others, and must not press beginners too hard . 188
Counsels upon the trials and vicissitudes of the
Spiritual Life.
95. (126.) That we must abandon ourselves to God, in the
midst of the vicissitudes of the spiritual life . . . 190
96. (127.) Showing in what true fervour consists . . 191
97. (128 ) That we must be satisfied with the operation of
God, although it may be hidden, and hard to distinguish from
the outbreaks of our natural temperament . . 191
98. (129.) That we must be faithful to our exercises of
devotion, independently of all sensible relish. That we must
love God, and tend to His love by our will . . 193
99. (130.) Upon involuntary distractions and desolations . 194
100. (131 .) That we must bear patiently our loss of conscious
fervour and difficulty in prayer. On the prayer of quiet . 195
101. (132.) On the instinct of the soul ; on the presence of
God ; on innocent amusements .'.... 197
102. (133.) That we must not trouble ourselves about our
feelings, but about our real will .... 199
103. (134.) That we must receive equally from God, tran
quillity and dryness in prayer . ... 200
104. (135.) That we must receive, with equal tranquillity,
consolation or desolation, as it may please God . . 202
105. (136.) That our thinking but little about ourselves
perfects our watchfulness in self-correction, instead of exclud
ing it. That God must be loved with a pure love . . 204

CONTENTS. XV

page
106. (137.) How we ought to behave, amidst the vicissitudes
of the spiritual life . . 207
107. (138.) That we must remain faithful in desolation, to
live the true life of Jesus Christ in God . . 208
108. (139.) The kind of fear which offends God. On the
usefulness of a misery that humbles us 210
109. (140.) On the languor of the soul; its source and
remedy . . . 211
no. (141.) That we must bear patiently our desolations
and the sight of our miseries . . .211
in. (142.) On the advantage of crosses, and of the state
of obscurity in which God leaves us ... 214
112. (143.) That we must habitually cleave to God in
peace and fidelity, without being turned away from Him by
all our involuntary distractions . 215
Counsels on the Practice of Humility and Self-
Rknunciation, and of Resignation under Crosses.
113. (144.) That we must suffer with patience and courage
in domestic troubles 217
114. (145.) On the advantage of allowing ourselves to be
humbled • 217
115. (146.) What sufferings ought to be, if we wish to
preserve peace therein . 218
116. (147.) On the happiness of bearing the Cross . 220
117. (148.) That we should suffer in this world as the souls
in Purgatory suffer . 221
118. (149.) On the perils of activity and dissipation of the
mind ... 222
119. (150.) Exhortation to simplicity and Christian child
hood . . . 224
120. (151.) That it is only the death of the spirit that can
prepare us well for the death of the body 225
121. (152.) How to change evil into good by our patience 227
122. (153.) How God humbles the soul by the sense of her
weakness .... . 227
123. (154.) Upon the same subject . . . 228
124. (155.) That we must suffer, without losing courage
and fidelity, under the hand of God, all the painful operations
¦which are to humble us . . . • 229
125. (156.) That we must allow ourselves to be judged; and
correct ourselves by following in all things the spirit of grace 230
126. (157.) On the complete sacrifice of self-love by a
continual abandonment of ourselves into the hands of God . 231

XVI CONTENTS.

page
127. (158.) On abandonment to the will of God alone and
detachment from all the rest .... 232
128. (159.) That we must bear the Cross, and abandon
ourselves to Providence . . 234
129. (160.) Upon the same subject . . 235
130. (161.) That we must not act according to our natural
inclination, and must mortify our vivacity . . 236
131. (162.) That we must suffer with resignation, and drink
the chalice of bitterness to the last drop . . 237
132. (163.) That the will of God ought to be our all . 238
133. (164.) On the way to carry our cross well . . 239
134. (165.) That we must consent to be nothing, and allow
ourselves to be consumed by an ever-extending death 240
135. (166.) That we must live in pure abandonment and
simple resignation to the good pleasure of God . . . 243
136. (167.) That we must allow nature to expire in depriva
tion and death ... . 244
137. (168.) On the necessity of abandoning ourselves, in
pure faith, to the hidden operation of God which brings death
to us . 246
138. (i6g.) On simple and complete abandonment . 250
I3g. (170.) That we must avoid dissipation, and repress
the activity of the mind . . 251
140. (171.) On the same subject . . 252
141. (172.) That we must allow ourselves to be guided
without resistance . . 254
142. (173,) Advice for two persons in different degrees of
grace ... .... 255
143. (174.) That we must find our strength in weakness,
as the Apostle did. On the marks of true abandonment . 257
144. (175.) On crosses and death from day to day 258
145. (176.) That the pains of dying to ourselves come
only from our resistance. That abandonment, to be real,
ought not to be perceptible ..... 259
146. (177.) That we must resign ourselves to God, without
uneasy reflections upon ourselves ; that we must avoid dissipa
tion, and act without taking any credit to ourselves for our
work . ..... 260
147. (178.) Upon the extinction of the life of self-love.
Acting by grace alone. Expecting everything from God . 264
148. (179.) That God proportions our sufferings and trials
to the strength He gives ...... 266

CONTENTS. XVII

149. (180.) That we must reduce our good resolutions to
practice. On simplicity and its effects . 267
150. (181.) That we must follow God without regard to
our feelings. On the advantage of the Cross, and the fruit we
ought to gain from our faults . . 268
151. (182.) Showing from what cause proceeds the diminu
tion of consolation and recollection. That we must renounce
ourselves and creatures :..... 270-
152. (183.) On patience with ourselves and with others . 271
153. (184.) That we must patiently bear with ourselves . 272
154. (185.) That we must not resist our interior attraction,
but must acquiesce in it, and expect all things from God . 274
155. (186.) On the means of finding peace in the midst of
crosses . . ... 276
156. (187.) Against the vain refinements of self-love, and
against uneasy forethought about the future . . 277;
157. (188.) Upon the source of peace, and in what disposi
tions we ought to be with regard to the sacrifices which God
requires of us . . 279
158. (i8g.) On fidelity in giving up all that troubles the
silence of the soul. Indulgence for the faults of others 28a-
159. (190.) On the happiness of suffering. How love
sweetens all • 28r.
160. (191.) Upon graces that we have received; upon
habitual recollection ; and abandonment to God 28a
161. (192.) Upon the life of faith; upon detachment and
interior peace ¦ .284
162. (193.) Advice upon our conduct to our servants 285
163. (194) Fenelon speaks in detail of his own soul, and
of the faults in his own character . . 288
Letters of Consolation.
164. (195.) That great sufferings are a remedy for the evils
of our nature . . .... 290-
165. (196.) On the death of a friend, who had been tried
by great sufferings. ¦ ¦ • 291
166. (197.) Upon the edifying death of a lady . 292.
167. (198.) On the death of a mutual friend. That we
must be content that God should do with us as He pleases . 293,
168. (199.) That religion alone can give us true consola
tion, when we lose those who are dear to us . ¦ 294.
169. (201.) That the loss of those dear to us serves. to
detach us entirely from creatures . . . .295

XV111 CONTENTS.

To the Countesse de Gramont.

page

170. (202.) On the means of sustaining ourselves in the
midst of the dangers we meet with in the world . 299
171. (203.) On the subject of a scandal which had just
come to light in the world . ... 300
172. (204.) That we must act with simplicity in all things . 303
173. (205.) Thanks for the interest she took in his nomina
tion to the post of Governor to the Duke of Burgundy . 304
174. (206.) He tells her that she must steal some hours
from the affairs of the world, to nourish her piety, and must
not be discouraged at the sight of her weakness . 304
175. (207.) That we must reserve to ourselves hours of
solitude, and bear patiently with the importunities of others,
and with our own imperfections. On the means of acquiring
humility . . . 308
176. (208.) That we must not trouble ourselves about
faults involuntarily omitted in confession . . 310
177. (209.) That we must apply ourselves to silence and
recollection. On the usefulness of penances which are not to
our taste . . . 312
17S. (210.) That we must have no scruple in changing the
hour for our exercises of piety, when the duties of our state
require it. Exhortation to simplicity and Christian childhood . 314
179. (211.) That we must avoid giving ourselves airs of
contempt and haughtiness, and must bear patiently with the
faults of our neighbour . . 316
180. (212.) Against .excessive fear of enjoying innocent
pleasures. That we must follow the advice of our physicians
with simplicity . . .318
181. (213.) Showing in what true humility consists, and
that we must hope in God notwithstanding our unworthiness . 320
182. (214.) That we must adore the designs of God, in the
revolutions of this world 323
183. (215.) That we must not lean upon creatures; and
must humble ourselves under the hand of God . 323
184. (216.) On the compassion which she ought to show
towards her disgraced brother . . 325
185. (217.) That we must see our faults with humility, but
without trouble . 326
186. (218.) That we must bear our crosses in peac3 and
humility .... . . 32Q
187. (219.) That we must easily pardon others their pre
possessions . . . , . , 327

CONTENTS. XIX

page
188. (220.) That we must preserve our peace in the midst
of crosses, and adore the hand that sends them to us . 328
189. (221.) On the advantage of crosses borne in a Christian
manner . . ... 330
190. (222.) That we must not put off our resolutions of
perfection. That perfect love casts out fear 331
191. (223 ) He tells her of a place where she can see him,
and jests about his bad temper . 333
192. (224.) That we must receive humiliations, as coming
from the hand of God . 333
193. (225.) Congratulations to the Countess on the mitiga
tion of the disgrace of her brother 334
194. (226.) That we must not put off labouring at our per
fection, and must make it consist of fidelity in little things as
well as in great things . . . 335
195. (227. ) On the dispositions which are suitable for the
season of Advent . . 339
ig6. (228.) On the advantage of crosses 341
197. (229.) That we must steal some hours from our
employments and difficulties, to strengthen ourselves by
exercises of piety . . . 342
198. (230.) On the ill-health of the Comte de Gramont 343
199. (231.) On the fruit which we ought to derive from
the difficulties and contradictions of life . 344
200. (232.) On the illness of the Comte de Gramont. The
advantages of the Cross ... . 345
201. (233.) He hopes that the Comte de Gramont will act
as nobly with God as he has acted with regard to the world 346
202. (234.) That we must take no fresh step, even in the
way of perfection, without asking advice. Exhortations to
humility and simplicity of spirit . . 347
203. (235.) That we must avoid uneasy foresight about the
future. On the fruit which we ought to derive from interior
contradictions. On the vanity of earthly possessions . 348
204. (236.) That we must accustom ourselves to recollec
tion, see our faults without being troubled, and give ourselves
to God without reserve . . 353
205. (237.) That we must bear temptations with peace and
humility . 356
206 (238.) How human passions clash with one another.
On self-renunciation and abandonment as the only means of
preserving peace . . 357
207. (239.) A picture of life at Court . . . 360
b* **

XX CONTENTS.

208. (246.) Letter of farewell to the Countess, who was
setting out for the waters of Bourbon 361
209. (241.) Showing the dispositions of Fenelon with regard
to his book of the Maximes des Saints . 362
To the Marquise de Risbourg.
210, (467.) He explains to the Marquise what is the reason
of his conduct with regard to several persons who wished to . .
have him as a director , 364
. 211. (468.) Upon an anxiety which was keeping the
Marquise from Holy Communion . 365
212. (46g.) Against excessive refinements in friendship 365
213. (470.) He reproaches her with unfaithfulness to God . 366
214. (471.) He begs of her to suspend her decision on an
affair of importance . 367
215. (472.) On consent to our daily crosses 367
216. (473.) He exhorts her to return to her first fervour 368
217. (474.) On the same subject. News of the Marquis
de Fenelon 370
218. (475.) That we must renounce our own spirit 371
2ig. (476.) He pities her interior sufferings 371
220. (477.) Upon a poor peasant woman in the diocese of
Arras, who appeared to be in an extraordinary state 372
To the Duchesse (afterwards Marechale) de Noailles.
221. (Lett. Sp. 1850, No. 25.) On some faults of the
Duchess; upon the course of conduct she ought to pursue
at Court and with her family . " 376
To the Due de Chevreuse.
222. (I. 4.) That we should try to preserve our union with
God in the midst of all exterior agitation and difficulties : and
that continual prayer is then our only resource. The hopes of
Fenelon for the Duchesse de Chevreuse 380
223. (I. 5.) Containing good wishes for the Duke and
Duchess, on the feast of Pentecost 385
224. (I. 16.) That submission to the will of God is the only
means of reforming our own will : and how we may attain to
this resignation ,gg
225. (I. 17.) Upon the involuntary distaste we may experi
ence in the service of God og0
226. (I. 18.) He exhorts the Duke to fight against his
natural activity . , ,gI

CONTENTS.

227. (I. 19.) On how we can distinguish the movements of
grace from those of nature . i . 392
228. (I. 20.) How we should study, so as not to dry up our
hearts. Exhortation to the contempt of the world . 398
229. (I. 22.) He exhorts the Duke to avoid curiosity, natural
impetuosity, and a minute exactitude in his affairs 400
230. (I. 23.) Against a subtle and minute spirit 405
231. (I. 24.) Upon the same subject 407
232. (I. 25.) An exhortation to recollection ; that we should
repress natural activity, and curiosity of mind . 409
233. (I. 27.) Containing some advice with regard to the
time and manner of prayer and other exercises of piety. Also
upon the choice of a person to whom the Duke might open
his heart . 410
234. (I. 28.) Against a curious, reasoning, and over-eager
spirit 415
235. (I. 2g.) Against activity and curiosity, which extin
guish the spirit of prayer and grace 416
236. (I. 30.) He consoles him for the recent loss of one of
his sons 419
237- (I- 31.) On the same subject . 420
238. (VI. 200.) Consolation on the death of his eldest son . 423
239- (I. 53) That the transition from a state of dependence
to a state of liberty must, with young people, be made by
successive and gradual changes. On the liberty which may be
allowed to a young lady with regard to the theatre 425
240. (I. 68.) He exhorts the Duke to terminate as soon as
possible some family affairs, that he may afterwards be more
at liberty to occupy himself with God 427
241. (I. 69.) On death to self . . 428
242. (I. 72.) On the death of the Archbishop of Rouen,
brother of the Duchess 43°
243- (I- 73-) Upon the state of pure faith, and the subtrac
tion of sensible fervour . 431
To the Vidame d'Amiens (created Due de Chaulnes in 1711).
244. (I. 52.) He sympathizes with the grief caused by the
death of his elder brother, and profits by this sad event to
recall him to a more Christian life 434
245. (I. 54.) He urges the Vidame to give himself to God . 437
246. (I. 55.) On the same subject 439
247. (I. 57.) He urges the Vidame to follow the leading of
his conscience • • 44°

CONTENTS.

page
248. (I. 59 ) He urges the Vidame to surrender to the
pursuit of the Divine mercy . ... 441
249. (I- 60.) He congratulates him on his candour, and
urges him to make a generous resolution 442
250. (I. 67.) He represents to- the Vidame the patience and
mercy of God towards him 444
251. (I. 71.) He teaches him how to occupy himself during
prayer . . 446
252. (I. 74.) He pities the Vidame for his interior trials,
and exhorts him to make a generous resolution 453
253. (I. 77.) He thanks the Vidame for a small service, and
exhorts him to remain faithful to God . 455
254. (I. 79.) He exhorts the Vidame to be firm in his
resolutions . . 456
255. (I. 84.) He exhorts the Vidame to give himself
courageously to God, and points out to him several means of
perseverance . 458
256, (I. 87.) He hopes to see the Vidame again soon, and
to find him at peace with himself . . . 459
257. (I. 93.) He exhorts the Vidame to distrust himself
very much, and to take the means he had already been advised
to take for his perseverance . 460
258. (I. 100.) He points out to the Vidame the means of
putting an end to his lukewarm and dissipated life . 463
259. (I. 112.) That nothing is more to be feared than grace
which we have despised. On the motives and means for
beginning a life of fervour . . 465
260. (I. 116.) That we must not be astonished at our
weakness ; and must distrust ourselves . 467
261. (I. 118.) That we must fear to weary the patience of
God. Showing the Vidame on what conditions he might
desire his advancement at Court . . 469
262. (I. 133.) Upon the way he should conduct himself in
prayer ; and upon the use of lawful amusements . 471
263. (I. 140.) On the death of the Abbe de Langeron. An
exhortation to true piety 473,
264. (I. 144.) He points out to the Vidame several remedies
against tepidity and dissipation . . 475
265. (I. 147.) He exhorts the Vidame faithfully to follow
the attraction of grace . . 475.
266. (I. 170.) Showing that many things, which we believe
to be innocent, are dangerous in practice . . 479
267. (I. 175.) On abandonment to God. Anxiety of
Fenelon about the health of the Due de Chevreuse . 481

CONTENTS. XX111

page
268. (I. 187.) Containing some advice to the Due de
Chaulnes (formerly Vidame d'Amiens) for his perfection . 482
269. (I. 188.) Advice to the Duke for the work of his
perfection . . . 483
270. (I. i8g.) He asks the Duke for news of his family, and
of his own conduct . . 483
271. (I. igo.) Advice to the Duke with regard to his private
occupations, and upon fidelity in following the attraction of
grace ....... 484
272. (I. 191.) He speaks to the Duke of the characters and
dispositions of his children, and gives him advice for his own
guidance ........ 486
273. (I. 196.) He exhorts the Duke to distrust himself, and
to fulfil the duties of his position . . . 491
274. (I. 197.) He gives the Duke some advice for the
management of his affairs, and for his own conduct . . 4g3
275. (I. 200.) He exhorts the Duke to be firm in his good
resolutions . • 495
To the Due de Beauvilliers.
276. (I. 50.) Advice to the Duke for the regulation of his
spiritual life, and for the guidance of the Due de Bourgogne 498
To the Duchesse de Beauvilliers.
277. (I. 195.) Words of consolation on the death of her
husband ........ 501
278. (I. 198.) On the same subject . . . .502
279. (I. 199.) On the same subject .... 5°3
To the young Duchesse de Mortemart (Marie-Henriette
de Beauvilliers).
280. (I. 61.) That we must distrust ourselves and trust in
God ; that we must co-operate earnestly with grace. ¦ Advice
to the Duchess on the means of preserving union in her
family . ¦ 5°5
To the Marquis de Seignelai.
281. (I. 6.) That we must avoid a division of our heart
between God and the world. On the means of obtaining a
perfect conversion . . • 5°8
282. (I.7.) On the obligation of advancing from day to day
in the knowledge of our duties and of the Divine law . 520
283. (I. 8.) He sympathizes with his sufferings, and tries
to make him look upon them as an effect of the mercy of God. 530
284.. (I. 9.) He exhorts him to confidence in God . 532

XXIV CONTENTS.

285. (I. 10.) He gives him certain subjects for meditation,
and teaches him how to sanctify his sufferings . . 535
286. (I. 11.) How we can preserve our sense of the presence
1 of God in the midst of crosses . . 536
To the Dowager Duchesse de Mortemart.
287. (I. 66.) That we must follow grace, step by step,, and
be compassionate to the weakness of beginners. That we
should proportion spiritual reading to the interior state of
each- person ....... 541
288. (I. 78.) That we must fight against our faults, patiently
and calmly ; and give others full opportunities of confiding
in us . ... 544
28g. (I. 80.) That interior peace is only to be found in
humility and poverty of spirit . ... 546
291. (I. 142.) That the knowledge of ourselves is hindered
by self-love. That we should use discretion in telling others
of their faults . . . 548
292. (I. 156.) That we must not seek the confidence of
others with too much eagerness ; that we must bear patiently
the crosses which God lays upon us, and fear the illusions of
self-love ....... 550
To the Due de Bourgogne.
293- (I- 34-) Exhortation to piety and a humble self-
knowledge ....... 554
294. (I. 35.) That the love of God must be our beginning,
our end, and our only rule in all things .... 556
295- (I- 36.) An exhortation to imitate the virtues of
St. Louis ..... 562
296. (I. 83.) That it is in adversity that the courage of a
prince ought to shine forth. The example of St. Louis. That
those at the head of affairs must avoid indecision . . 565
297. (I. 86.) Advice for the time of sadness and adversity 570

LETTERS
TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD WHO ARE
BEGINNING TO LEAD A CHRISTIAN LIFE.
I. (3I-)
How sweet the ways of God arc to any one who will
follow them with love; advice as to a rule of life.
I am delighted, sir, to see with what kindness of
heart you have received the letter I had the honour to
write to you. God is certainly doing a work in your
soul, when He thus gives you a taste for Divine truths,
and a desire of being assisted in your good resolutions.
I could ask nothing better than to be able to help you.
The more you do for God, the more He will do for
you. Every step that you take in the way of perfection
will turn to peace and consolation in your heart. This
very perfection, which many persons fear so much,
lest it should be sad and constraining, is only perfection
in so far as it increases our good-will. Now, in pro
portion as we advance, and do more for God, the
weariness and constraint we felt in the beginning grow
less and less ; for we are not wearied and constrained
in doing the things we love to do. When we do a
painful thing with a great love, this great love softens
the pain, and makes us content to suffer. We would
not wish to be spared the pain at the price of not
corresponding to the love that fills our heart ; we even

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

find our delight in sacrificing ourselves to the beloved
one. Thus the more we advance towards perfection,
the more glad we are to follow that which we love.
What could you wish for better than to be always
satisfied, and never to have any cross to bear which
does not give you more contentment in bearing it, than
any comforts and delights that were opposed to it, could
possibly do ? It is this contentment which you will
never find in your heart as long as you give yourself up
to your passions, and which will never fail you when
you seek God alone.
It is quite true that this contentment is not always
sensible and flattering to human nature, as worldly
pleasures are ; but for all that it is a very real content
ment, and far superior to any that the world can give,
because sinners are always wishing for something they
have not, and souls that are full of the love of God
never wish for anything but what they have. It is
a peace that is sometimes dry and even bitter, but
which the soul loves better than all the intoxication of
the passions. It is a peace which makes us at peace
with ourselves, a peace which is never troubled or
weakened except through our own unfaithfulness to
grace. Thus the more faithful we are, the more we
enjoy this happy peace. And as the world cannot give
it, so neither can the world take it away. If you
cannot believe this, try it. Taste and see that the Lord is
sweet, (f)
You cannot do better than regulate your time, so
as to be able every day to do some spiritual reading,
and to pray a little in the way of loving meditation,
thinking over your weaknesses, reflecting on your
duties, having recourse to God, and accustoming your
self to be familiarly in His presence. How happy you
(") Ps. xxxiii. 9.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 3
will be, if you learn what is meant by the occupation
of love ! There is no need to ask how the soul acts
with God, when we love Him. We have no difficulty
in conversing with a dear friend ; we are always ready
to open our hearts to him ; we do not reflect on what
we are going to say to him, but we say it to him simply,
without reflection ; we have no reserves with him, we
can keep nothing from him, and even if we have nothing
to say to him, we are glad to be with him. Oh, how
much more able to help and support us, is love than
fear ! Fear holds the soul in captivity and constraint,
and troubles her at the same time ; but love persuades
the soul, consoles her, gives her life, possesses her
¦entirely, and makes her desire what is good and perfect,
for its own sake. It is true that you have still need to
fear the judgments of God, to help you in overcoming
your passions: Confige timore tuo carnes meas — "¦Pierce
Thou my flesh with Thy fear ;" if) but although we must
begin by the fear that conquers the flesh, we must
hasten to tend to the love that consoles the spirit.
Oh, what a true and faithful Friend you will find in
God, when, once for all, your will is made up to enter
upon a sincere and constant friendship with Him !
The most important point, if you really wish to
give yourself to Him in good faith, is to be distrustful
of yourself, after so many experiences of your own
weakness, and to relinquish without delay the society
¦of all those who might lead you astray again. If you
really wish to love God, how can you wish to pass your
life in the friendship of those who do not love Him,
and who ridicule the thought of His love ? Why not
content yourself with the society of those who do really
Jove Him, and who will help to strengthen you in your
love for Him ? (") Ps. cxviii. 120.

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

I do not ask of you to break at once, suddenly and
without ceremony, with all your friends, and with all
those persons to whom you owe a real debt of courtesy
and kindness ; still less do I require that you should
give up what are called the duties of your position,
such as going to Court, or appearing in those places
where there is only a need for you to pass through and
show yourself ; but I am speaking of those continuous
intimacies which contribute very much to spoil the
heart, and draw it away again insensibly, in spite
of the best resolutions you may have taken. I mean
that you must cut short your frequent conversations
with vain and worldly women, who only seek for admira
tion, and with all other society which would be liable
to re-awaken your taste for pleasure, to accustom you
to despise piety, and might be the cause of a very
dangerous dissipation for you. These are things that
are very detrimental to the salvation of all men, even
of those who are most confirmed in virtue, and conse
quently still more pernicious to a man who is only
taking his first steps in the right way, and whose
nature is so easily led astray.
More than this, you must reproach yourself for your
long unfaithfulness, and for your long abuse of all
the graces of God. God has waited for you ; He
has sought after you, He has invited you, pressed
you, forced you, so to speak, to return to Him ; is it
not just that you also, in your turn, should wait a
little for Him ? Is it not necessary for you to mortify
your tastes, and to set a restraint upon yourself in all
those things you are accustomed to do, especially with
regard to dangerous things? Is it not necessary for
you to do real penance for your sins ? And ought not
this penance chiefly to consist in humbling yourself,.
and doing a little violence to yourself by withdrawing.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 5
from any society that might contaminate you ? He that
loveth danger, shall perish in it,{a) says the Holy Spirit.
Whatever it costs us, we must fly from dangerous
occasions. We are obliged, according to the command
of Jesus Christ, (e) to cut off our right hand and our foot,
•or even to pluck out our eye, if they scandalize us, that is
to say, if they are snares to us and occasions of falling.
I agree that you ought not to make a parade of your
conversion before the public, and thus give people
cause to talk maliciously about you ; true piety never
requires such demonstrations. It is sufficient to do two
things : one is never to set a bad example ; this is the
point above all others, upon which we are never allowed
to be ashamed of Jesus Christ and His Gospel ; the
other thing is to do, without affectation and without
ostentation, all that the true love of God requires of us.
According to the first rule, we must always behave
devoutly and modestly in church ; and when we are
in society, we may never flatter vice, or join in the
indecent conversation of libertines. According to the
second rule, our spiritual readings, our prayers, our
confessions, our Communions, indeed all our good
works, can be performed in private. In this way, you
will escape the malicious criticism of the world, without
the danger of falling into a false shame, or a politic
timidity, which would soon draw you back again into
the torrent of iniquity. The principal step for you to
take is to withdraw quietly from all those amusements
which are more to be feared for you than even for
others, and to confine yourself to the society of a few
chosen friends, who think as you wish to think all your
life. (") Eccli. iii. 27. (<) Matt. v. 29, 30.

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

2. (32-)
On the happiness of giving one's self to God, and of
giving up everything else, by a true conversion.
You will think me very indiscreet, sir, but I cannot
stand on ceremony with you, although I have not the
honour of your acquaintance. What has been told me
of the state of your heart touches me so deeply, that
I am obliged to put all ordinary rules on one side.
Your friends, who are mine also, will have already
assured you of the sincerity of my interest in you. And
I could not experience anything that would give me
greater joy, than to have you with me for a few days.
In the meantime, I cannot help saying to you that we
must yield entirely to God, when He invites us to let
Him reign within us. Did we deliberate so much,
when the world invited us to let ourselves be led
away by our passions, and by vain amusements ? did
we hesitate so much ? did we require so many proofs
and assurances ? did we resist evil then as much as
now we resist good ? When there is a question of going,
astray, of soiling our hearts, of losing our souls, of
acting against our conscience and our reason, that we
may follow after vanity and the pleasures of sense —
then we are not afraid of going too far ; then we decide
at once, and give ourselves up without reserve. But
when it is a question of believing that an all-wise and
all-powerful hand has made us, since certainly we could
not have made ourselves, when we are called upon to
acknowledge that we owe everything to Him from
Whom we have received everything, and that He has
made us for Himself alone — then we begin to hesitate,
to deliberate, to have subtle doubts about the simplest
and clearest things ; then we fear to be too credulous,

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 7
we distrust our own feelings, we evade the question,
we are afraid of giving too much to Him, to Whom it
is impossible to give too much, even if we gave all, and
to Whom hitherto we have given nothing ; we are even
ashamed of ceasing to be ungrateful to Him, and we
dare not let the world see that we wish to serve Him ;
in short, we are as cowardly, as hesitating, and as
reluctant in the practice of virtue, as we are bold and
decided and unreflecting in the pursuit of vice.
I only ask of you one thing, sir, and that is to follow
simply the inclination for good which you feel in the
depths of your heart, as you have formerly followed
your worldly passions for evil. Every time that you
care to examine upon what foundations religion rests,
you will find that nothing solid can be opposed to it,
and that those who fight against it, only do so that
they may not have to submit themselves to the rules
of virtue ; thus, they refuse to serve God, that they
may please themselves. Now, in reality, is it just to
be so complacent to ourselves, and so reserved towards
God ? Is so much deliberation necessary to conclude
that He did not make us for ourselves, but for Himself
alone ? When we serve Him, what do we risk ? We
shall do all the same honest and innocent things that
we have done hitherto ; we shall have almost exactly
the same duties to fulfil, and the same sorrows to suffer
patiently: but we shall add to all this the infinite con
solation of loving Him Who alone is sovereignly worthy
to be loved, of labouring and suffering to please that
true and perfect Friend, Who keeps account of the
smallest things, and Who rewards them a hundred-fold,
even in this life, by the peace with which He fills the
heart. And finally, to all this we shall add the hope and
expectation of a most blessed and eternal life, in com
parison with which our present life is but a slow death.

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

Do not reason. Either believe your own heart, to
which God, so long forgotten, lovingly reveals Himself,
in spite of all its past infidelities ; or at least, consult
your friends, those good people whom you know to be
sincere ; ask them what it costs them to serve God,
learn of them whether they repent of having given
themselves to, Him, and if they have been too credulous
or too bold in their conversion. They have been in
the world as you have been ; ask them if they regret
having given it up, and if the intoxication of Babylon
is sweeter than the peace of Sion. No, sir, whatever
crosses we may have to bear in the Christian life, we
never lose that blessed peace of the heart, which makes
us desire and love all our sufferings, and helps us to
wish for no joy of which God sees fit to deprive us.
Can the world give us as much ? You know it can
not. Are worldlings always content to bear all they
have to bear, and to do without all they have not got ?
Do they always do everything through love and with
all their hearts ? What do you fear then ? To give
up that which in any case you must soon give up
altogether, which is slipping from your grasp already,
every hour, which can never satisfy your heart,
which will turn into deadly sadness and disappoint
ment, which brings in its train a mournful void,
and secret reproaches in the depths of your con
science ; and finally, that which is really nothing,
even in the moment that it dazzles most ! What
do you fear still? To find a virtue too pure for
closest following, a God too amiable to be loved as
He should be loved, an attraction of love which will
leave you no more a prey to yourself, or to the vanities
of this world ? What do you fear ? To become too
humble, too detached, too pure, too just, too reasonable,
too grateful to your Father Who is in Heaven ? Fear

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. g
nothing so much as this unjust fear, and that false
wisdom of the world which hesitates between God
and self, between virtue and vice, between gratitude
and ingratitude, between life and death.
You know by experience what it is to languish
and pine away, for want of having within one's self
a living and sustained love. We are lifeless and,
as it were, soulless, as long as we have not within
ourselves a something indescribable which sustains
us, which bears us up, and which is renewed from
hour to hour. All that foolish lovers in the world say
of their wild passions is in one sense true to the very
letter. To love nothing, is not to live ; to love only
a little, is to drag on existence rather than to live. All
the most foolish passions which carry men away are
nothing but true love out of place, and wandering far
from its centre. God has made us to live in Him, and
in His love. We were born only to be consumed and
nourished at the same time by this Divine love, like a
torch that is consumed before him whom it enlightens.
This is that blessed flame of life which God Himself
has kindled in the depths of our hearts ; all other life
is but death. It is necessary for us then to love.
But what will you love ? That which will never
love you sincerely in return, that which is not loveable
in itself, that which will escape from you like a shadow,
when you try to grasp it ? What will you love in the
world ? Men, who will be jealous, and devoured with
a shameful envy, if you are content ? What will you
love ? Hearts, which are as hypocritical in their
seeming uprightness, as they accuse the devout of
being in their devotion ? What will you love ? An
honourable name which you may perhaps fail to gain,
and which, even if you obtain it, can bring no conso
lation to your sick heart ? What will you love ? The

10 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
esteem of blind men whom you despise, almost all of
them, if you take them one by one ? What will you
love ? This body of clay, in which our soul is im
prisoned and defiled, which is subject to the pains of
illness, and to certain and speedy death ?
What will you do then ? Will you love nothing ?
Will you live without life, rather than love the God
Who loves you, Who wishes you to love Him, and
Who only wishes you to belong entirely to Him that
He may give Himself entirely to you ? Do you fear
that with such a Treasure as this, you can want
anything else ? Do you think that the Infinite God
cannot fill and satisfy your heart ?
Distrust yourself and all other creatures together ;
all these things are a mere nothing, which can never
satisfy the heart of man, made for God alone ; but
never distrust Him in Whom alone is all good, and
Who has, in His mercy, disgusted you with all else,
to force you to return to Him.
3- (33-)
Entreaties to a person irresolute about his conversion.
Although I have not heard from you, I can neither
forget you, nor forfeit the liberty you have granted to
me. Suffer me then, I implore you, to represent to you
how guilty you will be before God, if you resist the
known truth and the lively sense of it which God has
given you : this would be, indeed, to resist the Holy
Ghost Himself. The journey which you took the
trouble to make, would be turned into condemnation
against you. You can have no more doubts as to the
unworthiness of the world, its powerlessness to make
you happy, and the illusion of all its most flattering
promises. You know the rights of the Creator over

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. II
His creature, and how ingratitude towards God is far
more inexcusable than ingratitude with regard to our
friends, who are only men. You feel the truth of
the existence of this God, by the wisdom which
shines forth in all His works, and by the virtues with
which He inspires those who are filled with His love.
What have you to oppose to all these things, so
touching and so moving as they are, except your
taste for liberty, and the natural disinclination for
obedience, which is the cause of your irresolution ?
We fear to bear the yoke ; and that is the real leaven
of a certain unbelief which raises up its objections
within us. We wish to persuade ourselves that we do
not yet believe sufficiently, and that, while we are in
this state of doubt, we cannot make any steps towards
religion without doing so rashly and with the danger of
soon falling back again. But it is not really a true
doubt as to the truth of Christianity which causes this
indecision ; it is, on the contrary, our very indecision
which serves as a pretext for our doubts, and. leads us
to put off always the execution of that which is terrible
to nature. We persuade ourselves into the belief that
we have real doubts, that we may dispense ourselves
from having done with self, and from the sacrifice of a
miserable liberty which is so dear to our self-love.
Looking at the question in good faith, what solid
and precise objection have you to oppose to the truths
of religion? Nothing but a vague fear of putting
yourself under restraint, and of being obliged to lead a
melancholy and mortified life ; nothing but the fear of
being drawn on farther than you wish to be, towards
perfection. It is only because you do esteem religion,
because you do feel its just authority, and do understand
all the sacrifices it requires, that therefore you fear it,
and dare not give yourself up to it.

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

But allow me to tell you that you do not yet know
religion, and how sweet and amiable it is. You see
what it takes away, but you do not see what it gives.
You exaggerate its sacrifices, without perceiving its
consolations. No ; religion leaves no void in the heart. It will
only make you do the things you will wish to do,
and which you will prefer to all those other things
which so long have led you astray. If the world never
asked of you anything but what your heart loved, and
accepted through love, would not the world be a better
master than it is ?
God will treat you very gently ; He will wait for
you, He will prepare you, He will make you wish for
things before He requires them of you. If He restrains
your corrupt inclinations, He will give you a taste
for truth and for virtue, through His love, and this
taste will be superior to all your other ill-regulated
enjoyments. What are you waiting for ? Until God
should work miracles to convince you ? No miracle
could take away from you this indecision of a self-love
which fears to be sacrificed. What do you wish for ?
Endless reasonings, while you feel in the depths of your
conscience what God has a right to demand of you ?
Reasoning will never heal the wound in your heart.
You reason, not that you may conclude and execute,
but that you may go on doubting, excusing yourself,
and retaining possession of yourself.
You deserve that God should leave you to yourself,
to punish you for such a long resistance ; but He loves
you more than you can love yourself. He pursues you
by His mercy, He troubles your heart, that He may
subdue it to Himself. Give yourself up to Him ; put
an end once for all to your dangerous uncertainty.
This apparent hesitation between two sides is really

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 13
taking a side ; this appearance of deliberation which
never comes to an end, is in reality only the secret and
disguised resolution of a heart that self-love is deluding,
and that wishes always to avoid restraint. You have
reasoned only too much. If you still have real and
important difficulties, explain them clearly in writing,
and I will go into them simply with you ; but if, on the
contrary, you have only a confused kind of doubt, which
comes from the fear of being too much restrained by
the laws of faith, why do you delay your submission ?
Make your mind keep silence. Are we to be astonished
that the Infinite should surpass our reasoning powers,
which are so feeble and so limited ? Do you wish to
judge of God and His mysteries by the light of your
own intellect ? Would He be infinite, if you could so
judge of Him and measure all His depths ?
Be just to yourself, and you will soon be just to
God. Humble yourself, distrust yourself, make yourself
little in your own eyes, lower yourself, feel the darkness
of your mind and the weakness of your heart. . Instead
of judging God, let Him judge you, and confess that
you have need of His reformation. Nothing is really
great, except this interior humility and lowliness of a
soul that judges itself with a just judgment. Nothing
is reasonable, except this just disowning of our own
misguided reason. Nothing is worthy of God, except
this blind obedience of a man who feels the impotence
of his own mind, and who is undeceived as to his own
false ideas. Oh, how enlightened is the humble soul !
Oh, what Divine truths she sees, when once she is
thoroughly convinced of her own blindness, and leaves
no resource to her presumption !
Pardon me, sir, for so indiscreet a letter ; I cannot
moderate the zeal with which your confidence has
inspired me.

14 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

4- (34-)
On the dangers of indolence and dissipation. Rules of
conduct for fighting against them and overcoming
them.
The two things you have to fear most, sir, are
indolence and dissipation. These two faults are capable
of plunging into the most frightful disorders even those
persons who are most resolute in practising virtue, and
who have the greatest horror of vice. Indolence is a
languor of the soul which benumbs it and takes from it
all life for what is good ; but it is a deceitful languor,
which secretly inflames the soul for what is evil, and
which conceals under smouldering ashes a fire that
is always ready to break forth and consume all. We
must have then a manly and vigorous courage, which
will repress this indolence, without ever listening to it.
As soon as we listen to it, or bargain with it, all is lost.
It does as much harm, even in that which regards the
world, as to our duties towards God. A slothful and
dissipated man can never be anything else but a poor
man; and if he were placed in the highest position, he
would only be there to his own dishonour. Indolence
takes from a man all that could give him brilliant
qualities. An indolent man is not a man ; he is half a
woman. The love of his own ease and comfort always
influences him, to the injury of his more important
interests. He cannot cultivate his talents, or acquire
the knowledge necessary for his profession, or subject
himself continuously to the labour which difficult duties
require, or put a restraint upon himself for any length
of time, to accommodate himself to the tastes and
humours of others, or to apply himself courageously to
his own correction.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 15
He is the sluggard of Holy Scripture, who willeth
and willeth not; (a) who wishes from afar off for that
which ought to be wished for, but whose hands
drop with languor and indolence as soon as he
comes near the labour necessary to obtain what he
wishes. What is to be done with such a man ? He is
good for nothing. Business wearies him, serious reading
fatigues him, the duties of the army interfere with his
pleasures, even his attendance at Court is a trouble to
him. He would like to pass his life upon a bed of
repose. If he works, the moments appear to him like
hours. If he amuses himself, the hours only seem to
him like moments. All his time is frittered away ;
he knows not what he does with it ; he lets it flow
away like the water under the bridges. If you ask him
what he has done with his morning, he knows nothing
about it, for he has lived without realizing that he was
alive ; he slept as late as he possibly could, he dressed
himself very slowly, he spoke to the first person who
came in, he took a few turns in his room, he heard
Mass very carelessly. Then comes dinner ; and the
afternoon will be passed like the morning, and his
whole life like this one day. Once more I say, such
a man is good for nothing. Even with a little pride,
he would not be able to bear himself in a state so
unworthy of any man. A sense of worldly honour
would then suffice to sting his pride into revolt and
rage, at seeing himself such a cipher. Such a man
is not only incapable of any good, but he will fall by
degrees into the greatest evils. Pleasure will betray
him. It is not for nothing that the flesh wishes to
be flattered and indulged. After having appeared
indolent and insensible, suddenly the flesh will break
out into a fury of brutal passion ; and this evil
(") Prov. xiii. 4.

l6 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
fire will only be perceived when it is too late to
extinguish it.
You have even to fear that your religious feelings,
through being mixed up with the natural indolence of
your character, may draw you little by little into a
life outwardly serious, quiet, and regular, but which, in
reality, has no solidity. Thus you may think you have
done a great deal in avoiding the foolish companions of
your youth, and you do not see that your religion is only
a pretext for your avoidance of them ; your real reason
for doing so is that you cease to find yourself at your
ease with them ; you are no longer popular with them ;
you have not the gay and giddy manners which they
prefer. All this will draw you, through your own
tastes, into a more serious and quiet life ; but you have
reason to fear lest it should be a seriousness as empty
and as dangerous as all their gay follies. A serious
disposition, if it be at the same time slothful and self-
indulgent, in which the passions reign, though their
reign may be without gaiety, leads to an obscure,
cowardly, and corrupt life, which the world itself, all
worldly as it is, cannot help holding in abhorrence.
Thus you would leave the world by degrees, not for
God's sake, but for the sake of your passions, or at least
for a life of indolence, which would not be less contrary
to God, and would be more contemptible, in the eyes
of the world, than the most glaring open vice. You
would only give up great designs, to be infatuated with
trifles and petty amusements, of which we ought to be
ashamed as soon as we cease to be children.
Now, let us come to the means of guarding you
against yourself in all these things. The first means is
to make for yourself a rule of life, and to follow it out,
whatever it may cost you. The second is, to include
in this rule, as a most essential part of it, the practice

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 17
of giving yourself every day for half an hour some
spiritual reading by way of meditation ; in this you
must never fail to renew your resolutions against your
natural indolence. The third is, to make every evening
an examination of how you have passed your day ; to
see if sloth has influenced you, or if you have wasted
time. The fourth is, to go to confession regularly
every fortnight, to a confessor who knows of your
natural inclination to sloth, and to beg of him to help
you vigorously against yourself. The fifth means is, to
have some good friend, or some faithful servant, who
is discreet enough and zealous enough to warn you
quietly when he sees that your indolence is beginning
to make you languid in the pursuit of good. If you
really wish to receive such a warning, you must ask for
it cordially ; you must show people that you take it all
in good part when they are kind enough to give it,
and you must let them see that you try to profit by
their good advice. You must never show vexation, or
indocility, or haughtiness, or jealousy towards them.
As to your occupations, you must have a rule for
them also, whether you are with the army or at Court.
Everywhere a rule of life is necessary, and you should
try to arrange everything so well that you are seldom
obliged to alter it. In the morning, your spiritual
reading and meditation, before all things, and whilst
the world thinks you are still in bed. Towards evening,
some more spiritual reading. And if you then feel an
inclination to recollect yourself a little while you are
making it, do so, and you will thus accustom yourself
by degrees to raise your heart to God in the evening,
as you have done in the morning. But at first you
must not oppress and tire yourself with too many
prayers. During Mass, you might read the Epistle
and Gospel for the day, and thus unite yourself to the

l8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

priest in the great Sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ ;
often some thought drawn from the Gospel or the
Epistle will have a relation to the Sacrifice, and will
help you to keep your mind raised to God.
You must mix courteously with the world in those
places where every one goes, that is to say, with the
Court, in audience with the King, with the army, and
with the generals in command. You must try to acquire
a certain politeness of manner, which will make you give
way to every one with dignity. No airs of vainglory,
no affectation, no over-eagerness ; treating every one
according to his rank, his reputation, his merits, his
credit ; giving to merit, esteem and respect ; to ability,
when it is accompanied by uprightness and friendliness,
confidence and attachment ; to rank and position, civility
and ceremony. In this manner you will satisfy the just
demands of society by appearing with dignity in those
places where it is right to make an appearance ; you
will salute and treat every one courteously as you go
on your way, but you will only enter into familiar
conversation with very few. Bad company dishonours
every one, but especially a young man, whose worth is,
as yet, all uncertain. He may, if he likes, see but few
people, but he must not see those who are disapproved
of at Court. Do not make a jest of them, or ridicule
them, as others do, but keep quietly out of their way.
Read the books which are suitable to your position,
especially the history of your own country. Mixing
with the world in a civil and cheerful manner in public,
and having praiseworthy occupations, such as even the
world must allow to be well suited to one in your
profession, you will have no cause to fear a quiet life.
Just as an idle and empty retirement is dishonourable,
so a retreat that is fully occupied with all the duties of
one's profession raises a man far above all those

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. ig
sluggards who never take the trouble to learn what
their duty is. When it is known that you work and
study, in order that you may be ignorant of nothing
that belongs to history and the art of war, no one will
dare to attack you on the question of devotion ; most
people will not even suspect you of being devout, they
will only think that you are a prudent and ambitious
man. And by being careful in this way, you will be
able to avoid the society of foolish young men, and so
will be able to lead a retired life, and give yourself
entirely to God, and to the duties of the state in which
His providence has placed you.
Besides never appearing to prefer ourselves to any
one else, certain other simple, natural, and straight
forward manners are necessary ; an open countenance,
something kind and conciliatory even in a casual
meeting : everything in us showing a nobility of
soul, exalted ideas, and a generous heart that is ever
ready to oblige, benevolent, easily moved to admire
the merit of another ; activity in giving pleasure
to all, and regret when that is impossible ; a deli
cacy in anticipating the wishes of deserving persons,
in understanding them with half a word, in sparing
them little humiliations, in but half saying what ought
not to be said completely, in enhancing the value of
the service we do them by our kind and obliging
manner of doing it, without seeming to make too much
account of it. Pride seeks glory to itself in these very
ways, and religion must also seek in this way to acquire
true courtesy, from a motive that is altogether divine.
Nothing is so noble, so delicate, so great, so heroic as
the heart of a true Christian ; but in him there is
nothing false, nothing affected ; nothing but what is
simple, modest, and always followed by action.
These are almost all the rules to be observed in

20 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
your association with the world. There remains still
your connection with certain friends whose friendship
is only superficial. You must not rely upon them, or
make use of them, unless you are really obliged to do
so ; but you ought to serve them as much as you can,
and act in such a manner that they may be obliged to
you. It is not necessary that they should all be of
accomplished merit ; it is quite sufficient for the
ordinary civilities of life that they should rank as
honest and well-conducted persons. We go out of our
way to converse and reason with men of real merit ; as
to the others, we simply say "good-day" as we pass
them. We may go and see them in their own homes
upon occasions of ceremony, we may associate with
them in certain places ; but we do not share their
pleasures ; we do not take them into our confidence.
If they wish to push the acquaintance farther, we can
get out of it quietly ; sometimes with one excuse, some
times with another.
As to our real friends, we must choose them with
the greatest care, and consequently we must limit
ourselves to a very small number. Let us have no
intimate friend who does not fear God, and whom the
pure maxims of religion do not govern in all things ;
otherwise your friend will be your ruin, however kind
his heart may be. Choose for your friends, as much as
possible, those who are a few years older than yourself;
in this way you will mature more rapidly. With your
true and intimate friends, keep your heart open ; have
no secrets from them but the secrets of others, except
in cases where you have reason to fear that their minds
are prejudiced. Be warm, disinterested, faithful, sincere,
and constant in your friendships, but do not ever be
blind to the faults and various degrees of merit of your
friends ; let them find you whenever they have need of

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 21
you, and never let their misfortunes weaken the warmth
of your friendship. Treat your servants kindly, take
care to have with them a gentle but firm authority ;
study to understand all their wants, and to do them all
the good you can ; distinguish those who deserve
distinction, and attach them to you through their
affections ; bear with all their faults, as long as they
are not faults in essential matters, and when they
have a good-will to correct themselves ; and get rid of
those whom you find it impossible to make honest and
good. Finally, remember always, sir (and I end as I
began), that indolence enervates everything, makes
everything insipid, takes away the sap and strength
from all the virtues and good qualities of the soul, even
according to the ideas of the world. A man given up
to sloth is a weak and miserable man in all things ; he
is so lukewarm and useless that God rejects him. And
the world in its turn will reject him also, for the world
will have nothing to do with that which is not quick
and resolute. He is then cast off by God and the
world ; he is a mere nothing ; he is as if he did not
exist ; when people speak of him, they say he is not a
man. Have a great fear of this fault, sir ; it is the
source of so many other faults. Pray and watch, but
watch against yourself. Pinch yourself as a lethargic
person is pinched ; ask your friends to prick you, to
wake you up. Have constant recourse to the sacra
ments, which are the source of true life, and never
forget that in this thing the honour of the world and
the honour of the Gospel are agreed. Both these two
kingdoms, the kingdom of the world and the Kingdom
of Christ, are only given to the violent, who carry them
away by force.

22 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

5- (35-)
Some advice upon meditation, and how to derive profit
from spiritual reading.
I am quite sure, sir, that you ought to make, every
morning, a short meditation : first of all, place yourself
in the presence of God, adore Him as really present
with you, offer yourself entirely to Him, and then
invoke the assistance of His Holy Spirit for the great
action you are going to perform. You know how we:
made our prayer when we were together ; but you
cannot do it too simply. Do not go about seeking for
God by fine thoughts or by extraordinary emotions.
Speak to Him simply and briefly, without grand reflec
tions, and out of the fulness of your heart, as to a good
and true friend. You may make two or three consi
derations on the most important truths of Christianity..
You can take them, either from the Imitation of Christ,,
in the way I have several times explained to you, or
<else from the Retreats, which have been given you..
Follow in all this your own attraction, or I should
rather say the attraction of Divine grace, without
forcing or constraining yourself. Of the two methods, .
I should prefer that you chose the Retreats, first, because
you will often find in them things more digested and
more to the point, which will help you to put in
practice the more general maxims of the Imitation;
secondly, because the Retreats prepare the remote founda
tions of several things which I hope in the course of
time will help you to correspond with the designs
of Divine grace upon you ; thirdly, because this reading
will put you into closer interior touch with those
persons who can best help you spiritually. Those who
have been fed with the same milk that will, in that.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 23
case, nourish you, are the most fitted to help you in
your needs. If I were in your place, I should try
once more to appreciate these Retreats, which are very
solid reading ; but afterwards, if your dislike of them
continues, I would again draw my subject for medita
tion from some short passage of the Imitation of Christ.
I would read as little as possible, so that the moment
I found two, or at most, three important truths, I might
stop to consider them with recollection, and to excite
my affections for these truths, after having carefully
considered them. If, nevertheless, I soon found myself
dry and without sufficient matter in my meditation, I
would take up my book again for a little, to fix my mind
by means of this sensible object, and so recall myself to
the subject in hand.
For the first few days, content yourself with a
quarter of an hour of this kind of meditation, in case
you should find yourself dry and wearied over it ; but
if you are able to find food for your heart in it, without
difficulty, go on to half an hour, provided always that
your head is not fatigued. As a general rule, it is
better to do a little at first, and accustom yourself
gradually to more. You can do the same for another
quarter of an hour in the evening, and you will see
that in time this other quarter of an hour will spread
out by degrees to a whole half-hour. I am always
supposing, of course, that after having considered your
two or three truths, and excited your affections upon
them, you will make some definite resolution as to
practice. You will finish by an act of entire abandon
ment to God, drawn from your considerations, and by
an act of thanksgiving to Him for all the light and
grace you may have received.
As to your spiritual reading, for which you ought to
have a fixed rule, I think you should make it for at

24 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
least a good quarter of an hour ; but make it very
slowly. Read always for yourself; that is to say, do
not content yourself with believing and feeling the
truths of which you read, but apply them to your own
special needs. Study attentively all the consequences
which you ought to draw from each maxim for your
own practice. Try in this manner not only to taste
and relish this sacred food for the sake of its attendant
pleasure, but also to eat and digest it, so that it may
nourish your soul. You must masticate it for a long
time, if you wish to digest it well. Those who swallow
it down quickly and greedily, far from really nourishing
themselves, only get a dangerous indigestion. It is
better, then, to read but little, and to read with attention
and recollection. When a spiritual reading is well
made, it insensibly becomes a kind of meditation ;
whereas the spiritual reading of persons who are not
sufficiently simple, is scarcely ever anything but reading
of a vague and somewhat argumentative kind. Too
great a variety of objects in our devotional reading, as
in all other things, dissipates the mind, distracts it by
too much multiplicity, draws it to exterior things, and
dries it up.
I think it would be useful for you to read first the
Introduction to a Devout Life, by St. Francis de Sales,
and then some treatises of Rodriguez, especially that
On Conformity to the Will of God ; from these you might
pass on to the Conferences of St. Francis de Sales.
There are some other books that you enjoy ; allow
yourself a moderate use of them, as one of your little
innocent pleasures.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 25

6. (36.)
Various recommendations, as to interior and exterior
conduct.
I am not astonished at this disgust that you feel for
so many things that are opposed to God ; it is the
natural effect of your change of heart. You would like
to be in a certain calm, where you might freely occupy
yourself with all that you love best, and be delivered
from all that could re-open your wounds ; but this is
not what God wishes for you. He wishes that all
those things that you loved formerly, and with which
your heart was occupied, should be turned for you into
annoyance, and should serve as your penance. Bear
this cross, then, in peace, for the expiation of your sins,
and wait patiently until God delivers you from it. He
will do so, sir, in His own good time, and not in yours.
Meanwhile, reserve to yourself the hours which are
necessary for you, to think of God, and of yourself with
regard to Him. You must read, pray, distrust your
natural inclinations and habits, consider that you bear
the precious gift of God in a vessel of clay, and above
all things, you must feed your soul within, by the love
of God. However far we may have lived away from Him,
we need not fear to approach Him again too closely,
by a tender and familiar love. Speak to Him, in your
prayer, of all your miseries, of all your needs, of all
your sorrows, even of the disinclination which you may
sometimes feel for His service. You cannot speak to
Him too freely, or with too much confidence. He loves
the simple and the little ones ; it is with them that He
converses. If you are one of that happy number, leave
alone your intellect, and all your grand thoughts ; open

26 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
your heart to Him, and tell Him everything. Then,
after you have spoken to Him, listen a little to Him.
Prepare your heart in such a manner, that He may
impress upon you the virtues He wishes you to possess :
let everything in you keep silence, that you may listen
to His Voice. This silence of creatures without, and
of all sensual passions and simply human reflections
within, is essential, if we wish to hear that Voice calling
upon the soul to die to herself, and to adore God in
spirit and in truth.
You, sir, have great assistance, in the knowledge
you have acquired. You have read many good books ;
you know the true foundations of religion, and the
weakness of all that men are wont to oppose to it ; but
all these means, which led you to God in the beginning,
will keep you back afterwards, if you trust too much to
your own ideas and your own lights. The best and the
last use of our intellect is to distrust it, to renounce it,
and to submit it to God by a simple faith. We must
become as little children ; there is a littleness that is
far above all greatness : happy are those who know it !
It is not much to be able to reason, to compare, to
distinguish, to foresee, and to conclude ; we must love
that which alone is true, that which alone is good, and
rest in it by a stable act of our will. The mind
wanders about from one subject to another ; it is the
will which must never change.
It is not a question, sir, of doing a great many
difficult things: do the smallest and most common
things, with a heart turned towards God, like a man
who goes straight to the sole end of his creation ; you
will then do all that others do, except sin. You will be
a good friend, courteous, anxious to please, kind, and
cheerful, at the proper time, and in the society that
is fit for a true Christian. You will be moderate

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 27
at table, and moderate everywhere else ; moderate in
speaking, moderate in your expenses, moderate in
judging, moderate in your interference with the affairs
of others, moderate in your amusements, moderate even
in being wise and foreseeing, as St. Paul wishes. (<*) It
is this universal moderation in the use of the best
things, which the love of God makes us practise with
a charming simplicity. We are neither ill-mannered,
nor disagreeable, nor scrupulous ; but we have within
ourselves a principle of love, which enlarges our hearts,
which softens all things, and which, without constrain
ing or troubling us, inspires. us with a certain delicacy
of conscience, so that we never displease God, and
always stop short when we are tempted to go too far.
In this state, we of course suffer what other people
have to suffer also : fatigues, perplexities, disappoint
ments, oppositions of temper, bodily inconveniences,
difficulties with ourselves, as well as with others,
temptations, and sometimes disgust and discourage
ment ; but if our crosses are the same as those of the
world, our motives for bearing them are very different.
We know, in knowing Jesus Christ our Saviour, the
value and the virtue of the Cross. The Cross purifies
us, detaches us, and renews us. We incessantly see
God in all things ; but we never see Him so clearly and
so usefully, as in sufferings and humiliations. The
Cross is the strength of God Himself: the more it
destroys us, the more it increases our new life in Jesus
Christ, and builds up a new man upon the ruins of the
old Adam.
Live, sir, without any exterior change, except such
as may be necessary, either to avoid evil, or to put you
on your guard against your own weakness, or that you
may not seem to be ashamed of the Gospel. But as
(") Rom. xii. 3.

28 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
for all the rest, Let not thy left hand know what thy right
hand doeth. [a) Try to be cheerful and tranquil. If
you can find some sensible friend who fears God,
console your own heart a little by speaking to him of
holy things, as you think he is able to bear them, but
remember always that God is the one true Friend of
the heart, and that no one can console us as He can.
There is no one else who can understand all, with half
a word, as He can ; who can enter into all our troubles,
and can accommodate Himself to all our wants, without
being annoyed by them. Make of God a second self.
And soon He will entirely supplant your other self, and
take away all your trust in it.
Regulate your expenses and your business matters.
Be honourable and modest, simple, and not attached
to anything. It is the right moment to serve, when we
have to serve through duty, without ambition or vain
hopes ; we then serve our country, our king, and the
King of kings, before Whom visible majesty is but a
shadow. To serve in this disinterested manner is to
atone for campaigns made with luxury and waste, and
with a view to riches. Try to be always even in your
conduct, and moderate; without affectation of good any
more than of evil ; but be always firm in the cause of
virtue, and so decided, that every one may see there
is no hope of drawing you back again. You will free
yourself from all their attempts much better, and people
will cease to importune you, when they see that you are
really attached to your religion in good faith, and that
you never mean to give it up. They only go on torment
ing those persons whom they suspect of being false, or
weak, or undecided.
Place all your confidence, not in your own strength,
or your good resolutions, or even in your most solid
(<¦) Matt. vi. 3.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 29
precautions (though you must take them with the
greatest exactitude and watchfulness), nor even in
the engagements of honour which you may take to
prevent yourself from falling away ; but trust in the
goodness of God alone, Who has loved you from all
eternity, before you loved Him, and even when you
were offending Him by your ingratitude.
You must make a practice of reading good books,
according to your attraction and your needs. You must
read simply, and not for too long at a time ; you must
pause after you have read ; you must meditate on
what you have just read ; meditate without much
reasoning, more with your heart than your mind, and
let God make His own impression upon your heart,
with regard to the truths you are meditating. A little
food nourishes very much when it is well digested.
You must masticate slowly, draw out all the goodness,
and appropriate it to yourself, that it may be absorbed
into your own substance.

7- (37-)
Rides of conduct for a soul newly returned to God.
The letter which you have written to me leaves
nothing to be desired ; it tells me all about the past, it
promises all things for the future. With regard to the
past, nothing remains for you but to leave it all in
God's hands, with humble confidence in Him, and to
repair it by an unrelaxing fidelity. We ask that we
may do penance for the past : what greater or more
salutary penance can there be for us than patiently to
bear our present crosses ? We atone for our past
vanities when we become humble, and are content that
God should humble us. The most rigorous of all

30 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
penances is to do the will of God, rather than our
own will, from day to day, and from hour to hour, in
spite of all our repugnances, disgust, and weariness.
Let us then think only of the present, and let us not
even allow ourselves to extend our ideas with any
curiosity towards the future. This future is not ours
yet, perhaps it may never be. And we only lead
ourselves into temptation, when we wish to be before
hand with God, and to prepare ourselves for things
which may not be in His designs for us. If these
things really happen to us, God will give us the light
and strength necessary to bear such trials. Why should
we wish to judge of them prematurely, when we have
neither the strength nor the light for them ? Let us
think of the present, which is weighing upon us ; it is
fidelity to the present which will ensure our fidelity for
the future.
With regard to the present, it seems to me that you
have not a great number of things to do. Here are
some that appear to me the principal :
i. I think that you ought both to give up all society
which might lead you into some serious evil, and also
such as might awaken in you the taste for worldly
vanities, might dissipate you, lead you to sloth and
indolence, make you grow cold towards God, dry up
your heart for your spiritual exercises, and undermine
your docility to the advice of which you stand in
need. Fortunately you are now in a place far from
the world, where it is easy for you to break through
your bonds, and establish yourself in the true liberty
of the children of God.
2. It is, nevertheless, not in accordance with the
duties and courtesies of your position, nor even with
the wants of your soul, that you should plunge yourself
into a profound solitude. You must still see those

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 31
people who amuse you in moderation, at those hours
when it is necessary for you to unbend your mind. You
must only avoid those persons who cause you dissipa
tion and draw you into carelessness, who carry you
away in spite of yourself, and who re-open the wounds
of your heart ; with regard to such false friends you
must fear them, quietly avoid them, and put a barrier
between them and yourself which will effectually bar
the way.
3. You must feed your heart with the words of
faith ; every day you must do some spiritual reading,
which shall be short and long at the same time, short
as to the number of words it contains, but long as to
the slowness with which you make it. While you read,
reason but little, but love much ; it is the heart and not
the head which ought to act. Read nothing except to
apply it directly to the duties which you ought to fulfil,
and to the faults which you must correct that you may
please God. Do not be afraid to drop your book as
soon as it has brought you into a state of recollection.
You cannot read anything more useful than the books
of St. Francis de Sales. Everything in them is con
soling and loving, although he says no word that
does not lead us on to die to ourselves. Everything in
them is from his own experience, simple, practical, full
of feeling and the light of grace. You are already
advanced when you have accustomed your soul to
this kind of food.
4. As to your prayer, you cannot make it badly
with the good dispositions which God has given you,
unless you are too ambitious to make it very well.
Accustom yourself to speak to God, not of the thoughts
that you may expressly form in your mind, just to
occupy yourself with Him during a certain time, but
of the feelings that fill your heart. If you enjoy His

32 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
presence, and if you feel the attraction of His love,
tell Him that you enjoy Him, that you are delighted to
love Him, and how good He is to make Himself loved
so much by a heart so unworthy of His love. In this
state of sensible fervour, the time will never seem long
to you, and the fountain of your heart will not dry
up, but will only pour out of its abundance ; you need
only tell God simply what you feel. But what will
you say to Him, when you are in dryness, when every
thing seems hard and difficult, when your heart is cold ?
You must still continue to tell Him what is in your
heart. You must say to God that you no longer find
His love within yourself, that you only feel a frightful
void, that He wearies you, that His presence touches
you no more, that you long to leave Him for the vilest
amusements, and shall only be at your ease when you
are far from Him and filled with yourself. You need
only tell Him all the evil that you know of yourself.
You ask me of what you shall speak to Him ? Ah !
is there not in all this far too much matter of which to
tell Him ? And while you tell Him of all your miseries,
you must beg of Him also to cure them. You must
say to Him : O my God, behold my ingratitude, my
inconstancy, my infidelity ! Take my heart ; I do not
know how to give it to Thee. Keep it, after Thou
hast taken it ; I know not how to keep it for Thee.
Give me from without the disappointments and the
crosses that are necessary to call me back to Thee, and
to submit me to Thy sweet yoke. Have pity on me in
spite of myself! Thus you see you will always have
plenty to speak of to God, either of His mercies, or
your own miseries ; you can never exhaust these
subjects. And in both these states of prayer, that of
consolation and that of desolation, tell Him without
reflection all that comes into your heart, with the

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 33
simplicity and familiarity of a little child on its
mother's breast.
5. Occupy yourself during the day with your
duties, such as regulating your expenses according
to your income, watching over your household to
prevent any scandal, labouring with a gentle authority
to complete the education of your children, satisfying
all the courtesies of society ; in a word, edifying all
those who see you, without ever speaking to them of
devotion. All this is simple, unostentatious, and moderate ;
all this can be fitted into the most ordinary life ; but
also it recalls the soul unceasingly to God. Oh, how
much consolation you will find if you act thus ! Better
is one day in Thy courts above thousands . . . in the tabernacles
of sinners. (f)

8. (38.)
Showing how we must not be in a hurry to give up
our employments, under pretence of the dissipation to
which they may expose us.
I pity M  very much. I understand how
extremely critical his state is. He is but beginning to
turn to God, his virtue is still very weak. He is obliged
to fight against all his tastes, against all his natural
inclinations, against all his habits, and even against
violent passions. His natural disposition is easy and
eager for pleasure, he has been accustomed to a
constant dissipation.. He has no less to fight against
from without than from within, he is surrounded by
nothing but temptation and bad example, all that he
sees leads him to evil, all that he hears breathes of
(") Ps. lxxxiii. 11.

34 SPIRITUAL LETTERS..
evil. He is far away from all good example and good
advice. This is a beginning exposed to strange trials,
but I must confess to you that I do not believe it could
be according to the will of God, if he were suddenly to
give up his employment, without consideration and
without courtesy. If he is faithful to spiritual reading,
to prayer, to frequenting the sacraments, to watching
over his own conduct and distrusting himself, to
avoiding dissipation as far as his duties permit, I
hope that God will take care of him, and will not
allow him to be tempted beyond his strength. The
things that God makes us do for the love of Him are
generally prepared beforehand by a Providence working
gently and by slow degrees. That Providence brings
everything about so naturally that all seems to come
of itself. Nothing forced or irregular is necessary. It
is better to wait a little while to open the door with the
key than to break the lock through our impatience. If
the idea of thus retreating from his position comes
from God, He will open the door for it. In the mean
time, God will take care of those who give themselves
to Him, He will keep them under the shadow of His
wings. A man of high rank, who holds a position of trust,
if he has intellect, talents, and a knowledge of the
world, ought not to find a difficulty, at a certain age,
in leading a serious and regular kind of life, as a young
man might very well do, whom every one thinks
himself called upon to torment. But this is not what
ought to be his principal resource, he must rely only
upon God, and fear nothing so much as his own weak
ness. I should wish him therefore to take the greatest
precautions against the temptations of his position,
but not to give up his position hastily. He should
fear self-deceit ; perhaps the inclination of his heart is

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 35
less to escape from dangers to his salvation, than to
resume a more peaceful and agreeable life. Perhaps
he is flying, less from sin, than from the disagreeables,
the difficulties, the fatigues, and the constraints of the
position in which he finds himself. It is very natural
to be in such a disposition, and self-love very often
persuades us that we are acting from motives of
conscience, when in reality it is this very self-love
which has the greatest share in our determination. As
for myself, I believe that God does not require such a
precipitate and irregular course of proceeding, and that
the usages of society forbid it. It would be better, it
seems to me, to wait until the winter. In the mean
time, if he continues faithful, God will bear him in His
hands, that he may not dash his foot against any stone.
Oh, how compassionate and consoling is God to
those whose heart is oppressed, and who have recourse
to Him with confidence ! Men are cold, critical, and
severe, they never condescend but by halves, but God
bears all, He has pity on all, He is inexhaustible in
goodness, in patience, in gentleness. I beg of Him
from my heart to supply the place of all else to our
friend. 9- (39-)
A dvice as to the manner of making mental prayer, and
performing other exercises of piety.
I herewith send you, madam,* what you have asked
me for. However kindly you may receive it, I am quite
* This lady is probably the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, or the
Duchesse de Chevreuse her sister, both ladies of honour to the
-Queen Marie Therese, wife of Louis XIV., who was still living when
the letter was written, because Fenelon speaks in it of duties to the
Queen. The date of it must therefore be previous to the death of
that Princess, which occurred on the 30th of July, 1683.

36 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
certain that you cannot be satisfied with it ; and this
is why I also cannot be quite satisfied to be, as it were,
obliged to send it to you, because you wish it. It is
therefore solely in obedience to you, madam, that I
tell you, that if you wish to make your prayer profitably,
and with the perfection you desire, it would be well
for you, from the beginning, to represent to yourself a
poor man, naked, miserable, weighed down with suffer
ing, and dying of hunger ; who has but one person
from whom he can ask an alms, and from whom he
can hope to receive it ; or rather, represent to yourself
a sick man, covered with wounds, who sees that he
must die, if he cannot meet with a physician who will
undertake to cure him of his wounds, and restore him
to health. This, madam, is a true picture of what we
are in reality before God. Your soul is more destitute
of the good things of Heaven, than this poor man is
of the good things of the world. Your soul needs them
far more, and it is God alone Whom you can ask for
them, and from Whom you can expect them. Your
soul is incomparably more sick than this poor man all
covered with wounds, and it is God alone Who can
cure you. All depends on your moving Him by your
prayers. He can do both things, madam ; He can
help you, and He can cure you ; but remember that He
will only do so, after you have earnestly besought Him,
and almost importuned Him.
If you are thoroughly convinced of this truth, as
you ought to be, when you wish to apply yourself to
prayer, and to be well disposed to make it, read next
what you have arranged to read, either out of the Holy
Scriptures, or from the book which is to furnish the
subject of your meditation. Stop after you have read
one or two verses, to make the reflections upon them
which God will put into your mind. And in order that

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 37
you may understand the kind of reflections which some
persons make, and which you may imitate in the
beginning, the better to withdraw your soul from its
usual want of application, and accustom it to con
centrate itself upon that which you wish to meditate,
it seems to me that it would be well for you, first of all,
to adore those sacred words, as the oracles of God, by
which He makes known to us His commands and His
wishes ; then you might thank Him for having deigned
to reveal Himself to us, you might humble yourself
and ask pardon of Him for having profited so little by
His instructions hitherto, and for having listened to
them so little ; you might consider in what way you
have neglected them in the past, and see if you are not
still despising them ; you might reflect upon and search
out in your life, all that you have done and are doing
against them.
You may also consider how our Lord Jesus Christ
practised the particular truth and the maxim which He
has now been teaching you ; how good people of your
acquaintance practise them ; how far certain worldly
people are from them in their conduct ; how far you
are from them yourself, and how far you have been in
the past. It is good for you to bear the confusion of
all this before God, and to prostrate yourself even
bodily in the retirement of your chamber, in order that
this humiliating posture may humble your soul as it
ought to be humbled at the sight of all its faults.
Consider next, the occasions which cause you to
fall into these faults ; the most fitting means of avoiding
them, or remedying them ; consider what Jesus Christ
justly asks of you, to preserve 3'ourself from these falls,
and to repair the past ; how much you are obliged to
yield to Him on these points, whatever it may cost
you ; how advantageous it is for you to do so ; how

38 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
shameful it is for you, and what a risk you run, if you:
do not do so. And, as of ourselves we are nothing but
weakness, and as we have only too long experienced
this, offer yourself to Jesus Christ ; detest your
cowardice and unfaithfulness ; beg of Him to put into
your heart what He wishes you to have there ; to
strengthen the will He gives you to do better ; have
the greatest confidence in His goodness and the
solemn promises He has made, never to abandon us
in temptation ; lean upon His words, and hope that
He will finish in you what He has already begun.
And in order to make things more clear to you,
madam, let us take an example and apply'to it what
we have just been saying. Let us suppose that you
have taken as the subject of your prayer these words
which are at the beginning of the seventeenth chapter
of the Gospel of St. John, of which I have been thinking
while writing to you : it is Jesus Christ Who is speaking
to His Father, and Who says to Him : I have glorified
Thee on the earth ; I have finished the work which Thou gavest
Me to do. And now, glorify Thou Me, 0 Father, with
Thyself.(a) You might, madam, first thank Jesus Christ
for the instruction which He here gives you, and for
having deigned to teach you with His own lips, that
you can only expect the glory God has prepared for you,
after having glorified Him upon the earth. This is an
inviolable law, which Jesus Christ has expressly laid
down for all the faithful, by the order He observes in
these words. The glory which you shall have given to
God on earth, is just that which will entitle you to ask
for the glory which He has promised you in Heaven:
if you do not give glory to Him, you must not expect it
in return. 2. Consider in what this consists, and what it is to
(") John xvii. 4, 5.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 39
glorify God on earth. Our Lord Jesus Christ explains it
clearly in these words : / have finished the work which Thou
gavest Me to do. To glorify God, then, we must both
know and do what He has commissioned us to do.
Every one in the world finds work to do, and every one
labours at this, but it is not always the work which
God has given us. Our real work is only that of
Jesus Christ, which is to labour for our salvation, for
which He laboured all His life. All that vanity, or
the desire of making myself a powerful and important
person in the world ; all that my own inclination, my
caprice, my anger, my self-love, or the wish to please
men only, causes me to undertake, is not the work
which God has commanded me to do, and consequently
nothing of all this can honour and glorify God : it is
the work of my own passions, the work of sin, and of
the devil.
3. The work which God has given me to do, is to
reform whatever is bad in my natural character ; that
is what He wishes me to do : it is to correct my faults,
to sanctify my thoughts and desires, to become more
patient, more meek and humble of heart. That,
madam, is to be your work : it is to take care that
Jesus Christ is served in your family ; it is to bring up
your children only for Him ; it is to ground them in
the contempt of the world, in gentleness, in modesty,
in patience, and in the true love of God. See if you
do this, and how you do it.
4. And in order that you may not flatter yourself,
see how Jesus Christ laboured all His life at the work
which His Father had laid upon Him, without any
relaxation, without losing a moment in it ; and judge
from this Divine Model what you ought to do. If a
God thus unceasingly employed the whole of His life
for you, what ought you not to do for Him ? What

40 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
confusion ought you to feel at having done so little
yet, or rather at having as yet done almost nothing !
Humble yourself profoundly at the thought of this.
5. Consider how the saints behaved in this matter,
and what they are still doing every day, in your sight.
The work which God laid upon them, was often far
more difficult than that which you have to do ; they had
fewer means of grace and less help to advance in it
and complete it, than you have ; they were as weak as
you are, and subject to natural inclinations perhaps
more difficult to overcome than yours ; and never
theless they succeeded. Recognize in all this your
own cowardice ; condemn your own negligence. Thank
God for the help He has given you. Ask pardon of
Him for having made so little and such bad use of it
hitherto, and give yourself entirely to Jesus Christ,
that by His grace, you may be able to make a better
use of it for the future.
6. Let us look, madam, at all that we have done
during our lives, and we shall see that we have
employed them almost entirely in ruining, both in
ourselves and in others, the work of God, and in
advancing that of the devil and of sin. When have
we ever done what God wished us to do, and how have
we done it ? When have we ever refused to do what
our own inclination and our self-love desired, and what
have we not done to satisfy them ? What a bitter
regret for us, what a grief, to see ourselves so miserable,
that we have done scarcely anything to glorify God,
and have laboured only at that which most dishonours
Him on earth ! What a heart-break for us to think
that we have laboured almost all our lives, and even
with pleasure, to dishonour God, and to honour the
devil, by our conduct ! Can we bear to see ourselves
in such a state ? Can we think of a life so miserably

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 41
employed, without being pierced with grief, without
mourning before God, and without being indignant
with ourselves ? ^
7. What, O my God, it has then been my occupa
tion, to destroy Thy work ! It is for this that I have
employed my wealth, my health, my authority, my
intelligence, my talents, my friends, my acquaintances,
to dishonour Thee, to undo the work which Thou hast
cemented with Thine own Blood, and I have been able
to take my pleasure in destroying that which cost Thee
Thy life ! Regardless of all Thy threats, I have sold
myself to Thine enemy, to establish his glory upon the
ruins of Thine, without any reward, without the hope
of receiving any, without any expectation except of
every kind of torment ! How can we, madam, bear
such a sight as this, without having our hearts broken
with grief! We have no need either to read or reason,
when we can feel this as we ought. You must let this
sight act upon your heart, and give it up to a grief so
just. . . . Now to come down still more to particulars.
8. It is then for the devil that I speak and act, if
I say or do anything that an evil inclination suggests
to me : it is his work that I am doing, and I am over
throwing in myself the work which Jesus Christ wishes
to do in me, and which He has already begun in me
by the will and the desire that He has given me to act
otherwise. How is it, my God, that Thou canst bear
with me, and how can I bear myself? Shall I, to
follow my own will, and to satisfy my passions, which
I know to be so unreasonable and so bad, shall I
destroy in myself the work which has cost Thee so
much ? Thy work, my God, is sweetness and gentle
ness, it is that which Thou hast given me to do. I
can only glorify Thee by labouring to attain it, and by
perfecting it in myself. I do will this, my God ; grant

42 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
me, through Thy mercy, to be faithful to my resolution.
Let everything else in my house and family be destroyed,
rather than that Thy wok should be destroyed there,
and destroyed through my weakness alone !
9. I will occupy myself then, my God, with this
one thought only, since such is Thy will. What if I
have to suffer, if I am badly served ? I will bear it with
joy, provided only that so I can serve Thee. My work
is not to be well served ; but to serve Thee well, and
to be gentle and patient, whatever may happen. This
is how I can glorify Thee on earth, this is what alone
can give me any hope of being glorified with Thee one
day in Heaven.
There are a thousand other things, in ordinary life,
which you can think of for yourself, and which I need
not speak of here, and you can go into detail as regards
them all, that you may bring them into your prayer,
and ask of God for the means of remedying them if
they are evil, and of strengthening them if they are
good. When you feel these things intensely, then, madam,
allow the Spirit of God to act, without turning away
from Him either to read or to pray vocally. But if
these thoughts vanish away quickly, and stray thoughts
come into your mind, humble yourself before God, and
beg of Him to engrave the thought of Himself upon
your heart ; try to apply yourself again. But if, after
this little effort, the distraction returns, take your book
again, and pass on to another truth, upon which you
may make somewhat similar acts and reflections.
Towards the end of your prayer, and before you
conclude it, always ask pardon of God for your failures
in it ; and even if you have been in a state of distraction
that was almost continual, you will not have lost your
time, if you leave your prayer more humble. Consider

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 43
what has touched you most, and think of it again often
during the day : this is the real way to continue always
in prayer. If in the evening you are able to apply
yourself to prayer again for a short time, that will
impress these truths upon you very much, and will
have still more effect.
It is good for you to begin your day by prayer.
You may cut short the time which you give to it before
dressing yourself, in order not to be so much hurried
afterwards ; but you must take care to resume it after
you are dressed, if you still have time. This will have
two advantages : (1) You will have no occasion to get
impatient, because you will have more time than is
absolutely necessary to dress yourself; (2) you can,
while you are dressing, continue to think of what you
have already meditated upon, and dispose yourself to
meditate still better, if any time remains to you to
resume your prayer.
As to those distracting occupations, madam, which
are of obligation for you, I confess that it is very much
to be desired that you could be exempt from them ;
but since that cannot be, I will remind you how,
whenever we have some anxiety or some design in our
heads, we carry it about everywhere with us, and
nothing can divert our attention from it. In like
manner, if you have a real sorrow for your faults, and
a firm design of saving your soul, and of pleasing God,
nothing can really distract you from it. And it is to
this intention that you must refer all your prayers.
That which distracts you most, you think, are your
duties to the Queen, to your husband, to your father,
to your relations. And yet, madam, all these things
can in reality help you wonderfully to escape from the
very distraction of which you complain. You did not
wish for this employment near Her Majesty ; it was the

44 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
providence of God that placed you there : it is there
fore a work which God has laid upon you; and you
must fulfil it that you may obey Him. The only thing
to be feared for you, is that you should lose sight of
God, and should substitute for Him your own vanity,
your own interests, your own pleasure, all purely human
considerations, and that you should thus change the
work of God into a work of sin and of self-love. You
have only then, madam, to reject such ideas, if they
come to trouble you, and to hold fast to your intention
of doing what God has given you to do, and doing it
as He wishes.
What prevents you, madam, in all the bustle of
the affairs of your household, from raising up your
heart incessantly to God, when you see how all your
servants execute your commands, how they try to
please you as much as possible ; how they suffer,
without daring to say anything, when they are unkindly
treated ; how pleased they are when you are satisfied
with their service? They only think of you, they only
work for you, and you would not allow them to remain
in your house long, if they were to forget the duty they
owe to you, and were to think only of themselves.
That which every one does in your house, and for you,
you also ought to do for God, in Whose house you are.
Learn from your servants to be prompt in executing
His commands, to repress in yourself everything that
could displease Him, and to correct ever}rthing that
could bring you into disgrace with Him, to bear,
without complaining, the trials He sends you, to receive
with humility and gratitude His chastisements for
your faults, to give constant attention and labour to
the work which He has laid upon you ; and in this
way, all that generally distracts you will serve to make
you recollected, and will raise your soul to God. And

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 45
remember, madam, that as you would never allow a
servant to remain in your house who never thought
about his work, or who only did it with great negligence,
so God cannot suffer in His house any servant who
does nothing at all, or who only does negligently and
half-heartedly the work that is given her to do.
All that we see in worldly society can serve to keep
us in the presence of God. In truth there is but little
good in the world ; but still we do see some, and that
in itself will lead us to thank God, Who is the Author
,of it, to beg of Him to preserve those persons who are
good in their goodness, and to grant us His grace
that we may be good also.
The evil in the world is great, and we often meet
with it on our way. If you love goodness at all, you
cannot fail to feel a horror for what is evil, as soon as
you see it, and there is but little danger of its taking
you by surprise. One would not dare to approve of it,
or to praise it. A more dangerous circumstance is
this, that there are certain evils of which people have
less horror, and at which the world is accustomed
to laugh : there are evils even which are the diver
sion of the world; and these are the ones, madam,
which ought to grieve you most in the depths of
your heart. Far from taking part in this pernicious
amusement of the world, you ought to weep over such
things in your soul ; to see that the children of God
can possibly take pleasure in that which caused Jesus
Christ a mortal sadness. You ought to thank God for
having rescued you from such a state, and tremble with
fear lest He should abandon you also to the reprobate
mind which }'Ou see in others. These are the sentiments
that will prevent you from becoming infected by the
wickedness of the world, or from allowing yourself to
be contaminated by it. Religion clean and undefiled before

46 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
God and the Father is this : ... to keep oneself unspotted from
this world. (f)
As for your vocal prayers, as you have not any that
are of obligation, say them very slowly, trying to enter
into the feelings with which the words you are reciting
ought to inspire you. To do this, occupy yourself with
the sense of the words, and take all the time that is
necessary for this : do not be in a hurry to have finished
soon ; it is better to say properly half a single psalm,
than to say several badly and in haste. If you are
obliged to interrupt your prayers for any necessity,
break off at the point you have reached, without being
troubled, and take them up again at the same place,
when you have time to do so.
Never go to Holy Mass without thinking, as you
go, of the Sacrifice of Jesus Christ, at which you are
about to assist. Try to feel a true sorrow for your sins,
which obliged a God to shed His Blood to wash them
away. Let your exterior modesty and your devout
attention to so sacred a thing, show the dispositions
with which you are present. I say nothing to you of
the care you ought to take with regard to the custody
of the eyes, and how you ought to put far away from
you the thought of all that could distract your mind :
these are the first things to be done, and I am certain
that you do them.
On the days that you are to go to confession, take
the time of your morning meditation, to employ a part
of it in the examination of your conscience, and employ
the other part, which should always be the longer,
in asking for the sorrow you ought to feel for your
faults, and in imploring the grace of God to correct
yourself. This preparation is good; but there is a
better one still, and that is, to watch over yourself with
(") Ja. i. 27.

TO DIFFERENT PERSONS IN THE WORLD. 47
special care, for two or three days beforehand, and to
perform some acts of penance, and do some active work
of charity, that you may obtain from God the sorrow
you ask of Him. And when you have only slight sins of
frailty to accuse yourself of in the course of a week, I
am not sure if it would be so necessary for you to
¦confess them, and if it would not be better for you to
restrict yourself to what I have just been saying, for
fear of going to confession as a mere matter of habit,
and of making it sometimes without all the preparation
that is to be desired. But this depends on the profit
you derive from confession more or less frequent ; for
this is what ought to regulate the frequenting of the
sacraments. On the days of your Communion, pray more than
on other days. Remember, madam, that you only
receive Jesus immolated in this Divine Sacrifice, in
order that you may immolate and sacrifice yourself
with Him, and may live henceforth with His life
alone. He is full of life in this Sacrament, and He
there gives us life, but it is a life of sacrifice. Although
He is hidden and apparently lifeless in this Sacra
ment of Love, He can feel all the injuries that are
done to Him by those who love Him not, and He
suffers them, without manifesting either His sorrow or
His power. This is the spirit of patience and of
sacrifice which you ought to receive from Him, if you
communicate in the right dispositions. It is this state
you are to aim at, and to which you ought to advance,
by your Communions. How much this requires of
you! Do not trust to your good desires, madam, if they
are barren and without effect. Labour courageously
to become meek and humble of heart. If you fall into
some fault, and you can immediately retire to your

48 SPIRITUAL LETTERS. -
chamber, go and prostrate yourself there on the ground
before God, and ask pardon for it. Your humiliation
and the grief of your heart will draw down upon you
the grace to be more faithful on another occasion.
Often adore the silence of Jesus Christ, when He was
so ill-treated by His judges and by His people. If
any one does anything wrong and unkind to you, that
only regards your own person and the service specially
due to you, bear it without saying a word. But if an
angry word escapes you, after you have humbled
yourself for it in your heart, make up for it by speaking
with gentleness, and by doing some act of kindness to
the persons whom you have treated roughly, if an
opportunity for so doing presents itself. Never forget
how God has treated you, and how He is still con
tinually treating you. He is so patient and so kind :
let Him be your model. Learn from Him what you
ought to be to others. Do not be discouraged at your
falls ; as they make you know your own weakness, and
bring it plainly before you, so they ought to keep you
more humble, and more diligent in watching over
yourself, and in having recourse to God from one
moment to another, for fear of losing your soul.
When you make your spiritual reading, remember
that it is Jesus Christ Who is going to speak to you,
and Who is going to speak to you on the most important
subject of all for you. Listen to Him in this disposi
tion. Read little at a time, and meditate very much
on the truths you find in your book. See if you practise
them, and how you practise them. Ask Jesus Christ
to speak to you in the secret of your heart, and to
teach you there what the book represents to you from
without. If there, in the secret of your heart, you find
one of your faults severely reproved, thank God for
showing you this favour, for reproving you without

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY.

49

flattering you, and beg of Him to grant you yet another
favour, that of correcting yourself.
Read the Holy Scriptures as much as you can, and
the books that move you most. It will be well even
for you to mark the words which strike you most, in
order that j'ou may repeat them sometimes during the
day, and re-awaken the feelings with which they have
inspired you. When j'our reading is over, always finish
with a little prayer, and ask of God that He will help
you to- accomplish, when the occasion comes, all that
you have learnt in your reading.

10. (41.)
TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY.
He reproaches him affectionately for his errors, and
exhorts him to resume those practices of religion,
which formerly gave him so many consolations. [1688.]
You have forgotten me, sir, but it is not in my
power to do the same with regard to you. In the
depths of my heart there is something which continu
ally speaks to me of you, and which makes me always
anxious to hear news of you ; this is what I have
especially felt during the perils of your campaign.
Your forgetfulness of me, far from estranging me from
you, only touches me still more. You formerly showed
me a kind of affection, the impression of which can
never be effaced, and which moves me almost to tears,
whenever I remember our conversations ; I hope that
you also can remember how pleasant and cordial they
were. Have you found, since that time, anything
E **

50 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
sweeter than God, when we are worthy to feel how
sweet He is ? Have the truths, which charmed you
so much, ceased to exist ? Is the pure light of the
Kingdom of God extinguished ? Can the nothingness
of this world have acquired a new value in your eyes ?
That which was only a miserable dream, is it not still
so ? That God, in Whose breast you poured out your
heart, and Who made you taste a peace above all
human feeling, is He no longer to be loved ? Has the
Eternal Beauty, always so near to pure eyes, no longer
any charms for 3'ou ? Is the source of heavenly sweet
ness, and of pleasure which leaves no remorse behind,
that source which is in the Father of mercies and the
God of all consolation, is it dried up ? No, for God
has implanted in my heart a too earnest desire to call
you back to Him. I cannot resist it ; for a long time I
have been hesitating. I have said to myself, I shall only
annoy him. Even when I began this letter, I laid
down rules of discretion for n^self, but at the fourth
line my heart escaped from my control. Even if you
do not reply to me, even if you think me ridiculous, I
can never cease to speak of you to God with sorrow
and yearning, being able no longer to speak to 3'OU
yourself. Once more, pardon me, if I go beyond all
rules. I see it as well as you can, but I feel myself
urged and drawn on. God has not yet forgotten you,
since He acts upon me so powerfully for your salvation.
What does God ask of you, if not that you should
be happy ? Have you not felt how happy the
soul is that loves Him? Have you not experienced
that we can never be really happy, whatever intoxi
cation we may seek for in the pleasures of the senses,
in which He has no part ? Since then you do know
where the Fountain of Life is to be found, and since
you have formerly bathed your heart therein, to quench

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 51
its thirst, why do you now seek after leaking and
corrupted cisterns ? O lovely days ! O happy days !
which were only lighted up by the gentle rays of a
tender mercy, when will you return ? When will the
joy be restored to me of seeing once more that dear
child of God recalled under the shelter of His powerful
hand, loaded with His favours and with the delights of
His Sacred Banquet, and drawing from his experience
of human weakness an inexhaustible source of humility
and of fervour.
I do not tell you, sir, what you ought to do, God
Himself will tell you sufficiently, according to your
needs, provided only that 3'ou will listen to His voice
speaking within you, and that you will have a
courageous contempt for contemptible persons. But
the end of it all is, God calls you, follow Him. What
can we refuse to Him Who wishes to give us all things,
by giving us Himself? Do then as you will, but
love God, and may the love of Him, revived in your
heart, be your sole guide. I have often thanked Him
for having preserved you from the dangers of this
campaign, in which your soul has been still more
exposed than your body ; often I have trembled for
you ; let my fears have an end, restore to me the joy of
my heart. I can never have a greater joy than to meet
you again, and to feel again that we have but one heart
and one soul in the house of God, waiting for our
blessed hope, and for the glorious coming of that
great God, Who will inebriate us with the torrent of
His pure delights. Your ears have not yet lost the
remembrance of this sublime language of truth, your
heart was made to feel all the charms of it. This is
the delicious Bread that we eat every day at the table
of our Father. Why did you ever leave it ? With
such a support we need never fear to be in want of

52 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
any other thing : but at least listen to the one entreaty
which I am going to make to you. Even if you do not
feel within yourself the strength to return to the happy
state in which you once were, at least answer me, at
least do not shun me. I know what it is to be weak, I
am a thousand times weaker than you are. It is very
useful for us to have experienced how weak we are, but
let us not add to the weakness which is inseparable
from humanity, a wilful avoidance of that which can
help us to rise above it. You shall be the master in
our intercourse, I will never speak to you but of that
which you are willing to hear, I will keep the secret of
God in my heart, and I shall be always, sir, with an
inviolable affection and respect, &c.

II. (42.)
TO THE SAME.
Telling him to despise the opinion of the world, and to
show himself openly a Christian.
Paris, October 14, 1688.
I felt much regret, sir, to find you had already set
out when I returned from my short journey. But those
who know that God does all things, are persuaded that
He disposes all for the best. I beg of Him with all
my heart to give you as much courage against the
opinions of the world, as He has given you against
all the perils of war. Is it not a strange folly in man
to have no fear of those blows which could kill him at
any moment, and perhaps send him to eternal damna
tion, and yet to be so timid and so cowardly when he
has to face a cold raillery, or the criticism of the very
people whom he most despises ? Thus ambition, that

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY.

53

is to say, the passionate love of a mere phantom, will
make men brave in the midst of the greatest dangers,
while the hope in an all-powerful God, and the expecta
tion of His eternal kingdom, cannot reassure them
against the vain words of an impiety which inspires
them with horror.
Oh, how weak and cowardly they really are,
these men who pride themselves on having such
strong minds and on being so courageous ! It is
only through the intoxication of their pride and passion
that they succeed in overcoming their natural fears.
Happy are those who, fearing God, fear none but
Him ! Happy are those who, being detached from
this life, and from the vain esteem of blind men, are
equally bold against all the perils of war and all the
scoffs of libertines ! They find all in God, and fear
nothing but to lose Him ; death even, if it came,
would only crown their hopes, it would be the end of
all their dangers and the beginning of their endless
happiness. They are no more ashamed of Jesus
Christ and His Gospel before the world, than we are
ashamed of being wise amongst madmen who are
obliged to be kept in confinement.
This is the principal thing, sir, in which you must
now be faithful to the most merciful grace that you
have received — you must let every one see you such as
you ought to be, that is, as a true Christian. Do not
be ashamed of Jesus Christ, and He will not be
ashamed of you before His Heavenly Father, at the
great Day of Judgment. Certainly we ought to hide
from the eyes of the world all that it is not necessary
for us to display ; but the world must know that you
wish to be a Christian, that you have given up vice,
and that you avoid impiety. The real means of sparing
yourself continual importunities and dangerous tempta-

54 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
tions, is for you not to remain neutral. When a man
declares himself openly in favour of religion, at first
people murmur against him, but soon they are silent,
they grow accustomed to allow him to do as he likes,
his bad companions take leave of him and seek other
society. I have given thanks to God for having given;
you the- Due de Beauvilliers on this journey.* God
must love you very much, sir, to have given you, after
all your unfaithfulness to Him, such a sensible delight
in what is good, and so much help to sustain you in it.
Watch, pray, distrust others, and distrust yourself still
more, that you may never lose the fruits of a mercy so
precious. To you has been confided the care of young
plants which you must anxiously watch over. You
know, by your own experience, all that there is to fear
for persons who are entering the world, and nothing
will be more useful for them than to be warned by you
in good friendship. However, sir, I only take the
liberty of saying all this to you, because you wish it,.
and because my heart urges me to do so. I desire to
see you already loaded with all kinds of blessings. I
pray our Lord to preserve your body, and still more
your soul. No one can ever be, sir, with more zeal
than I am, &c.
* The Due de Beauvilliers had been chosen by Louis XIV. to
accompany the Dauphin on his first campaign in 1688. We are
inclined to think that the officer to whom these letters were
addressed was Jules-Armand Colbert, Marquis de Blainville, the
son of the Minister, and the brother of the Duchesse de Beau
villiers.

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 55

12. (43.)
TO THE SAME.
Showing that the unction of Divine grace can supply the
place of spiritual reading, when we are not able to
make it. Instructions on the practice of recollection
in the midst of the ordinary distractions of life.
Paris, October 30, 1688.
You must not think, sir, that we are alienated from
God when we are no longer able to read good books.
We owe fidelity to God in profiting by so great a help
when He gives it to us, but when He takes it away
from us by a real necessity, He will supply the place
of it by His mercy. Then He Himself becomes
the book of our souls, He presents Himself to us
in the midst of all our difficulties, He makes us
hear the sweetness of His voice in the very depths of
the soul, He makes us feel the vanity, the corruption,
and the misery of all that is without, and He writes in
our hearts Himself, by His Holy Spirit, a living and
ineffaceable law. Content yourself then, sir, as long
as you cannot do otherwise, with saying your Breviary*
Office with attention, without troubling yourself too
much. That which will have most touched you, in
the words of the Divine Office, will remain in your
heart, and you will be able to recall it in those places
* This part of the letter might make us doubt if it were really
written to an officer of the army. But it will not seem extraordinary,
if, as we suppose, this officer was a son of the great Colbert, for it
is known that that Minister had had a Breviary printed for the use
of his household, and this devotion of saying the Divine Office was
then common enough, even amongst persons belonging to the
Court.

56 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
of dissipation where you are not able to read or to
pray. Then the world will not be able to prevent you
from feeling how contemptible it is, from lifting up
your heart to God, and keeping it for Him alone, from
invoking Him with confidence in all your needs, and
from regulating your words according to His law. This
is an invisible worship, which escapes the sight of
the world, and which the world cannot censure. When
involuntary dissipation may have hindered you from
having these good thoughts, do not be discouraged,
take them up again quietly, put yourself back into
your old place under the hand of God, and it will
be almost as if you had never left it. Now that
you are beginning to live for Him, make a kind of
rule for yourself, to lift up your heart to God, and
offer yourself to Him at certain hours and on certain
special occasions. By these means you will insensibly
acquire the habit of acting always in His presence,
and at last this practice will become sweet and easy
to you. I am, sir, very perfectly, &c.

13- (44-)
TO THE SAME.
A method of prayer for beginners.
Paris, June 1, 1689.
I must not delay to express my joy to you on
account of the things which you have done me the
honour of writing to me. The two definitions which
you give me are so correct, that there remains nothing
for me to add to them. It is certain that when once
the foundations are laid of an entire conversion of

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 57
heart, of a strict penitence, and of serious detailed
and practical meditation on all the truths of Christi
anity, it is certain, I say, that when all this is done,
some persons gradually accustom themselves to all
these truths in such a manner, that at last they face
them and dwell on them with a simple and fixed sight,
without any need of having always to begin again to
convince themselves of each truth in particular. Then
all these truths coalesce and unite in producing a
certain relish for God, so pure and so penetrating that
we find all things in this relish of Him. It is no longer
the mind that is reasoning and seeking, it is the will
that loves and that plunges itself in the Infinite Good.
But this state is not yours. You must walk for a long
time yet by the way of prayer which is for sinners who
are beginning to seek God, ordinary meditation must
be your portion ; too happy are you that God condes
cends to admit you even thus far. Walk then in a
spirit of faith, as Abraham did, without knowing where
you are going ; be satisfied with your daily bread, and
remember, that in the desert, if the Israelites gathered
more manna than was sufficient for one day, it had
become corrupt by the next morning; so true is it
that the children of God must keep within the order
of present grace, without wishing to anticipate the
designs of Providence for them.
Meditate then, since this is the time for you to
meditate, upon all the mysteries of Jesus Christ, and
upon all the truths of the Gospel, which you have so
long ignored and contradicted. When God shall have
thoroughly effaced in you the impressions made by
worldly maxims, and when the spirit of Jesus Christ
shall have left there no trace of your former prejudices,
then you must examine the attraction of grace that is
given to you, and you must follow it step by step,

58 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
without anticipating it. Meanwhile remain quietly in
the bosom of God, like a little child in the arms of
its mother. Content yourself with thinking over the
subjects of your meditation in a simple and uncon
strained manner; suffer yourself to be drawn gently
towards the truths which touch you most, and which
you feel are nourishing your heart ; avoid all efforts
which excite your brain, and may often make you
consider as true piety that which is not so much a
pure and upright will of abandoning yourself to God,
as a dangerous liveliness of the imagination. Avoid
also all subtle reflections, confine yourself to simple
considerations, and go over these often. Those who
pass too rapidly from one truth to another only feed
their curiosity and uneasiness, they even distract their
minds by a too great variety of ideas. You must give
to each truth sufficient time for it to take deep root in
your heart, for it is not only a question of knowing, the
essential thing is to love. Nothing gives us such severe
indigestion as when we eat a great deal and in haste.
Digest each truth at your leisure then, if you wish to
draw all the goodness from it and nourish yourself
well. But avoid all restless self-occupation, be sure
that your prayer will only be good in so far as you
make it without constraining yourself, without exciting
yourself, and without being uneasy.
I know well that you cannot fail to have many
distractions, but you have only to bear them without
impatience and quietly put them away from you by
continuing to aim at a closer attention to your subject,
whenever you perceive that your imagination is
wandering. Thus these involuntary distractions will
not be able to hurt you, and the patience with which
you bear them, without losing heart, will advance you
more than a more luminous prayer, in which you

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 59
would take more pleasure. The true means of over
coming distractions is, not to attack them directly with
vexation ; do not be disheartened either at their number
or their long duration.
I have not read the book of the Jesuit Father of
which you speak to me so favourably. I hope you
will show it to me on your return. You know, sir,
how devoted I am always to you, in our Lord.

14- (450
TO THE SAME.
On the same subject.
Paris, Monday, June 6, 1689.
I think, sir, that the last letter I had the honour to
write to you gave an answer to all the points upon
which you consulted me. For the present you have
but one thing to do, and that is, to occupy yourself
quietly with the subjects for meditation which you have
selected; it is only true that you must make this
occupation as simple as you possibly can, that is to
say, in the following manner. Do not overload your
self with a great number of different thoughts upon
each subject, but stop a sufficiently long time at each
one to be able to extract from it some nourishment for
your heart. Little by little you will accustom yourself
to look at the truths of salvation fixedly, and to rest
upon them, without skipping from one to another.
This fixed and constant look at each truth will serve
to root them more deeply in your heart. You will
acquire the habit of dwelling upon your subjects
with relish and peaceful acquiescence, whereas most
people only consider them with a passing reasoning.

60 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
This will be a true foundation for all that God perhaps
wishes to do afterwards in you. By these same means
He will deaden the natural activity of your mind,
which is always desirous of discovering new things,
instead of penetrating more deeply into those which
it already knows. Nevertheless, you must not force
yourself, in the beginning, to continue your meditation
on a subject as soon as you find no nourishment in
it ; I only mean that you must not leave it until you
find that it no longer affords you any food for your
soul. As for your affections, admit all those with which
the contemplation of your subject may inspire you, and
yield to them quietly, but do not excite yourself to great
efforts, for such efforts would exhaust you, would heat
your brain, would even dry you up, because they would
occupy you too much with the emotions you have
yourself imparted to your own mind, the3' would give
you a dangerous confidence in your own industry as a
means of touching your own heart, and finally they
would attach you too much to sensible consolation,
and so would prepare great disappointments for you
when the time comes for you to be in desolation.
Content yourself then with following, simply and
without reflection, those emotions of affection which
God may give you upon the subject you are meditating
or upon any other truth.
As for the things belonging to another and a higher
state, do not think about them, there is a time for all
things, and it is a matter of great importance never to
anticipate such a time as that. It is one of the greatest
rules of the spiritual life to confine ourselves to the
present moment, without looking beyond. You know
that the Israelites in the desert followed the pillar of
cloud or of fire, without knowing where it was leading

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 6l
them. They could only gather enough manna for one
day ; if they took more, it corrupted.
It is not a question of going on quickly, it is a
question of going on well. If one of your servants,
on a journey, were always trying how he could find
means to hurry on more quickly, you would say to
him : My friend, you will go on quite fast enough if
only you do not stop, if you follow the route I have
marked out for you, and if you arrive on the day I
wish. This is precisely what God says to you and how
He wishes you to serve Him. Have no other will,
even in the best things, than to follow His will. At the
present time, think only of laying the foundations of
the building, and of digging them out well, by an
entire renunciation of the whole of yourself, and by
an abandonment without reserve to the commands of
God. After that God will raise upon this foundation
whatever edifice may seem good to Him. Give yourself
up to Him and shut your eyes. Oh, how great is this
guidance of faith, in which we walk, as Abraham did,
without knowing where we are going, and how many
blessings it draws down upon us ! Then God will be
your guide, and He will journey with you Himself, as
it is said that He travelled with the Israelites, to lead
them step by step through the desert, even to the
Promised Land. How happy will you be, sir, if you
will let God take possession of you, to do with you
according to His intention, and not according to your
own inclination, all that He wishes !

62 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

I5. (46.)
TO THE SAME.
On the practice of habitual recollection ; advice for
the time of prayer. Paris, June 9, 1689.
Nothing ought to be able to prevent you, sir, from
recollecting yourself in the presence of God, when
you are on horseback, and cannot read or take a
particular subject for meditation. But you must
observe the following things : (1) Not to make this
recollection take the place of your meditation, to
dispense yourself from making it, when you can
arrange your time so as to make your meditation before
or after your rides ; (2) to intermix this sense of the
presence of God with distinct acts and with special
reflections upon the truths which have already formed
the subject of your meditations, whenever such acts
and reflections are suitable for enlivening your faith and
helping 3'ou to a more perfect state of recollection ;
(3) never to weary yourself with this recollection, but
to unbend your mind from time to time by short
intervals of innocent amusement and gaiety,- whenever
you feel the need of it. I am, indeed, convinced that
this sense of the presence of God will imperceptibly
become frequent and familiar to you.
As for your method of meditation, it is good, and
you have nothing to do but to continue it. Be
cheerful, as a man should be who has found the true
treasure, and who needs nothing more. Live from day
to day, without troubling yourself about the future, for
the morrow, as Jesus Christ tells us, will be solicitous for

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 63
itself. («) This is because each day brings with it its
own graces and inspirations, with its own sorrows and
temptations. Speak to God familiarly ; be with Him
as simple as a little child. The more your will dies
to all the vain desires of the world and all corrupt
pleasures, the more will you enjoy a certain innocent
and childlike joy, which is infinitely superior to all
those magnificent amusements by which the wise men
of this world try in vain to forget their anxieties. Oh,
how sad they are, the miserable creatures, and how
devoured with weariness in the midst of all their
pleasures ! You will be able to laugh at' their folly,
which passes for wisdom, and you will have the true
wisdom by desiring henceforth nothing but God, and
by experiencing the joy of His Holy Spirit in all
simplicity. I send you some names of persons to whom you
may apply in favour of that soldier, on whose behalf
I have already petitioned you. Try, without incon
veniencing yourself, if you can set this unfortunate
man free, and find out if he deserves his deliverance
as much as I have been told.

16. (47-)
TO THE SAME.
On the practice of recollection; advice as to games
of chance and secular songs.
Paris, July 2, 1689.
I am very much obliged to you, sir, for your extreme
kindness, and for the earnest manner in which you
have written to the commanding officer of that soldier,
(«) Matt. vi. 34.

64 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
whose deliverance we are trying to obtain. As it was
one of my good friends who asked me to interest you
in this matter, I was not able to refuse him, and I went
beyond all rules of discretion, hoping you would pardon
me for doing so.
Do not hesitate to recollect yourself in the presence
of God, whenever you feel an inclination to do so,
provided that this inclination does not lead you on
to a too long or too close attention. You can practise
this recollection in certain moments snatched from
your occupations, and can do so often, provided always
that you do not let it take the place of your regular
times for prayer.
I do not think that you should carry to the last
extremity the rule that you have laid down with regard
to games of chance. It is dangerous to make rules
which are not kept. If you wish to accustom your
servants to obey faithfully, you must only command
them in those things which you wish them to observe
exactly ; otherwise your authority is lessened. As to
your lacqueys, I think you could recommend them not
to play at cards, because that kind of people get too
much excited over their games. And it might be the
cause of too great losses, or of quarrels, or often of
thefts from one another, to make up for losses at play.
But to soften this severity to them, I should like you
to furnish them with draughts and other games suitable
for their amusement. In this way they would have no
pretext for seeking other games ; but I should wish them
never to play for money. As for your other servants
of a better class, it seems to me that you should not
watch them so closely. You can but speak reasonably
to them, and make them understand that you do not
wish to have people about you who are addicted to
play, and who do not know how to occupy themselves

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 65

rationally. To occupy them you must observe the
special talent of each one ; you must give some writing
to one; to another, some little commissions; to another,
some accounts to make up, &c. It is idleness which is
the cause of our having so much trouble to get rid
of games of chance. These are my opinions, sir, on
this subject.
As for airs from the opera, it is for you to know the
impression that they may be able to make upon you ;
I say, that they may be able to make upon you, for
although they may not make any at certain times, they
may be able to do so at other times, when temptation
is upon you. Supposing that the airs themselves have
no bad effect upon you, I should think you might sing
them, but without pronouncing the words, which are of
themselves sufficiently stupid, and ought to have no
attraction for you in the present state of your feelings
which God has given you. There is yet another rule
for you to observe, and that is, never to sing these airs
in places where 3'ou could be heard by people who
would think that your example authorized them to sing
such songs also, or who might judge wrongly of the
sincerity of your piety, finding you full of these worldly
songs. With the exception of these things which I
have just mentioned to you, I wish very much that you
should be at full liberty to amuse yourself innocently ;
for joy is very useful and very necessary for your body
and your soul.
The man who makes out your accounts may do so
also on feast-days and on Sundays ; but not for so long
a time as on other days, and not during the hours of
the Divine Offices, which he ought to be free to attend.
/ long after you in the bowels of Jesus Christ. (a) This is
the longing of St. Paul. («) Phil. i. 8.

66 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

I7. (48.)
TO THE SAME.
Showing how a man in a position of dignity ought to
endeavour to moderate the passions of the young
people about the Court, and of the discipline he
should maintain amongst the troops.
Paris, August 7, 1689.
I received your last letter, sir, with a great feeling
of joy, and found in it many proofs of the goodness
with which God is leading you, as it were, by the
hand. You were deceived in your hope that the young
people associating with a man as young as you are,
and with whom they had formerly been so familiar in
the midst of their disorderly pleasures, would control
and check themselves in your presence and for your
sake. That is what you must never expect from them,
until you have become, by your age, by your position,
and by your reputation for virtue, a very venerable
personage. Until that time arrives, you must be con
tented with placing one of these 3'oung people with
three or four elderly officers, in order that the constraint
and incongruity of their society may act as a sort of
barrier. It is only such a mixture as this that can
mend matters ; and it is for you to act so that the
constraint ma3? not be too galling, and yet that it
may be sufficient to put some check on the wild
passions of the young men about the Court. You
could not put three or four young men of a certain
stamp into each other's sole company without exposing
yourself to some scandalous commotion. As to the past,
it is passed and gone ; 3'ou cannot recall it : you can only
leave it unreservedly to the mercy of God, and bear all

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 67

the humiliation of your fault in His sight ; it was not
really a voluntary fault, but only a pure want of
foresight. As to your servants, you can only repair
the scandal you have given them by your good example
and by the precautions you take to spare them such
sights for the future. God has permitted all this to
show you by experience what you must avoid. Do not
be too much disturbed about it ; it is nothing, provided
you are more careful for the future. The affair having
been embarked upon, you could do nothing better than
what 3'ou did do, which was to take everything very
seriously, to say nothing, and to bring all quietly to a
conclusion. With regard to the wood which your soldiers may
burn, I will give you my opinion on the matter. And
I beg of you to take it simply, as I give it to you, and
to avoid scruples, (i) I would take forage, &c, as
others do, because you cannot act differently from all
the rest of the army. And on a campaign there is no
other means of subsistence, and you would create a
kind of scandal, if you were by your practice to condemn
the only way in which the King will or can maintain
his troops.
(2) As to the fruit-trees, which are capable ol
nourishing the peasants, or as to the wood from their
houses, I would never suffer any one to burn them, or
to take them, whenever it was possible in any way to
do otherwise ; for it is necessity alone which could ever
authorize such conduct, and if it were not absolutely
necessary, it would be very bad.
(3) As for the wood which is not from fruit-trees, I
think that even here you should be satisfied with
•cutting off the branches, instead of cutting down the
whole tree, provided the branches are sufficient for
_your needs ; for as necessity alone gives you any claim

68 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

upon the wood, you must only take exactly what real
necessity obliges you to take ; and even in this case
(as you cannot help making use of what belongs to
another), you must make use of it with all possible
moderation and humanity, in such a manner, that you
take care of the goods of others, just as you would take
care of your own goods, in a like case of necessity.
(4) I think that during the campaign, you should
avoid taking from your neighbour whatever the laws of
the camp allow of your buying instead, either in the
camp or in the neighbourhood, if the price is not
excessive. But if the price were excessive, and if it
were necessary to go a great number of miles from the
camp to buy these things, such circumstances would
make the purchase of them impracticable, and you
ought not to make yourself singular and scrupulous, by
not taking, like all the rest of the army, in the neigh
bouring country, whatever you could not go farther to
buy except with excessive expense and trouble. When
the difficulty of buying becomes so great that all the
army looks upon it as insurmountable, then you may
consider it as a real necessity to take. It is true that
this is a misfortune to be deplored, but indeed it is an
inevitable misfortune which war brings in its train.
We ought to grieve over it before God ; but we cannot
escape from it.
I am delighted to hear that your fidelity to God
increases, although you have no fervour or sensible
consolation. This attachment to God, all dry and
naked as it is, is far more pure. God loves you very
much, when He leads you by this way, which is so
rugged, and where you must climb without looking
back, but which is the most direct road to reach Him.
Do not give up enjoying, with the simplicity of a little
child at the breast, all the sweetnesses which the Divine

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 69
Mercy may pour into your soul ; for whether it be
dryness or consolation, all is equally useful when it is
God Who gives it. Oh, how good is all that comes from
Him ! All turns to good for those who love- God, and
whom God loves. May He alone reign ! To Him
alone be glory ! May His will be done in us and with
us, whatever it may cost us ; may His will be done on
earth as it is in Heaven !

JULES ARMAND COLBERT,
MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE ET D'ORMOY,
Fourth son of the great Colbert, was born in 1664, and at
first held the appointment of Superintendent-General of
public buildings. But, after the death of his father, he
resigned that post in 1683, and accepted instead that of
Grand-master of Ceremonies in 1685. His rank of Lieutenant-
General, which he received in 1702, was given him as a
reward for the great courage he had displayed on several
important occasions, and especially during the campaign of
that year. He died at Ulm in 1704, from the wounds he had
received on the same day at the Battle of Hochstet.
18. (49-)

Telling him how to bear the constraint of his position
in a spirit of penance, and how to despise the criticisms
of the world. Fontainebleau, September 20 [1696] .
I have been ill for a considerable time, and no
reason less strong than that could have prevented me
from doing myself the honour of writing to you. It gives
me pleasure to think that the time for your return is
approaching. You will have leisure during the whole
* This letter, and those that follow it, as far as n. 29, are all
addressed to the same person. There is no doubt that this
friend was the Marquis de Blainville, brother to the Duchesse de
Beauvilliers, who is called the good, ... in Letters 23, 24, &c.

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 71
of the winter to strengthen yourself in your good
resolutions, while you are with a family full of a good
spirit and of piety, — a family who love you and who are
delighted to find that you think the same as they do.
Meanwhile, you must take as a penance for your sins,
all the tedious restraints of the position in which you
now are. This penance will appear short and light to
you when you recognize all that you owe to God, and
how much you have failed in your duty to Him. The
very troubles which seem to injure our advance in
piety will turn to our profit, provided we do all that
depends upon us. This is a beginning of the renuncia
tion of self and of our own will, and it is one of the
most solid sacrifices that we can make.
Go on your way naturally, and men will not harm
you. A moderate, simple, and decided course of conduct
will impose silence upon them. Even if you have to
bear some unkind mockeries, you will get off very
cheaply. Is it not just that you should have to suffer
something from the folly of the world, that you may
acquire true wisdom, after having been approved by
the world for so long, when you wished to please those
who were blind ? We are too jealous of a vain repu
tation, when we fear the speeches of men whom we
despise, and whose irregular conduct we know well.
The principal thing for you is to reserve to yourself
hours for retirement, when, by your exercises of devo
tion, you can provide yourself with a good antidote
against all their poisonous errors. Read the truth in the
words of eternal life. Pray, watch, and be detached
from yourself. Love God with a generous love ; let that
which was created only for Him belong only to Him.
Expect all things from Him without neglecting yourself,
that you may be faithful to His gifts. After saying all
this to you, sir, I could not make up my mind to

72 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
conclude with ordinary compliments. You can judge
sufficiently by the language of truth which this letter
contains, with what zeal I am interested in all that
concerns you. 19. (50.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
Telling him to be very cautious in his judgments.
January 3, 1697.
In all things, judge as little as you possibly can.
It is a very simple course to retrench all decisions that
are not necessary for us. This is not irresolution ; it
is a simple distrust of ourselves, and a practical detach
ment from our own ideas, which extends to everything,
even to the commonest things. Then, we believe what
we ought to believe, and we act as the necessity arises,
with a simple determination, and without reflecting
upon ourselves or trusting to ourselves. When there
is no necessity, we do not judge, and we allow all
appearances and all reasons for believing to pass
before our eyes ; but we are so empty of self and cf
our own opinions that we are always ready to receive
light from others, to believe that we are mistaken, and
to retrace our steps like a little child whom his mother
leads back by the hand. It is this emptiness of spirit,
and this child-like docility which I desire for you. It
will bring peace to your heart, — peace with yourself,
and with your neighbour.

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 73

20. (51.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
Telling him to bear patiently with his own faults, and
not to reason too much about himself.
Cambrai, August 23, 1697.
Here I am, sir, nearer to you than I was, and much
quieter than at Versailles. As for you, I do not know
exactly where you are, but I hope my letter will find
you. I even flatter myself that you will not return to
Paris, without passing through Cambrai, where you
are wished for and loved without measure. But do not
come here before it is convenient to you, or before all
your duties with the army are finished. In the mean
time, pray for me and love me always. I pray God
that He may preserve you in an entire fidelity to His
grace. Qui cxpit in te opus bonum, periiciat usque in diem
Christi — "May He Who hath begun a good work in you,
perfect it unto the day of Christ Jesus." (f) We must bear
with ourselves patiently, without flattering ourselves,
and we must continually subject ourselves to all that
can overcome our natural inclinations and our interior
repugnances, that we may become more supple to
the impressions of Divine grace in the practice of the
Gospel. But this work must be peaceful and untroubled ;
it must even be moderate, and we must not attempt to
do all the work in a single day. We must try to reason
little, and to do much. If we do not take care, our
whole life may be passed in reasoning, and we shall
require a second life for practice. We run the risk
of believing ourselves advanced in proportion to the
comprehension we have of perfection. All these fine
(") Phil. i. 6.

74 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
ideas, far from advancing us in dying to ourselves,
only serve to nourish the life of the old Adam secretly
within us, by giving us confidence in our own views
of things. Be extremely distrustful, my very dear sir,
of your own intellect and your own ideas of perfection ;
that will be a great step towards becoming perfect.
Humility and distrust of yourself, with simplicity, are
fundamental virtues for you. Nothing in the world
can ever be more closely devoted to you than, &c.

21. (52.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
Telling him to avoid haughtiness and decision, and
to practise gentleness and humility. [No date.J
I recommend you always to fear haughtiness, con
fidence in your own ideas, and determination in your
way of speaking ; be meek and humble of heart, that
is to say, your meekness should come from a sincere
humility ; bitterness and want of moderation only come
from pride. If you wish to grow meek, you must
humble yourself, and make yourself little in the depths
of your heart. A humble heart is always gentle and
tractable in its centre, even if on the surface it may
seem rough, through the surprises of a sharp and
peevish temper. Watch, pray, work, bear with your
self, without flattering yourself. Let your spiritual
reading and your prayer tend to enlighten you with
regard to yourself, to correct you, and to overcome
your natural temperament in the presence of God.

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 75
22. (53-)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
On bearing with others; and on prayer. [No date.]
I shall be well satisfied, my dear typographer, that
my courier should not appear at Versailles, if you will
haVe the kindness to see that my letters are delivered
there. You will find one also for the good * . . .
which I beg of you to give her. Try always to remain
closely united to her. Even if you are not always
satisfied with her on some particular point, do not
form any judgment, and do not let yourself be run
away with by your natural inclination to decide severely
about everything. Bear with her, even in her most
glaring imperfections, and remember your own, which
are quite equal to hers. Often, under the hardest and
roughest bark, there is a living trunk, full of sap, which
bears excellent fruit. Often a - gentle and polished
outside surface hides deceitful and corrupted things.
Bear very much from your neighbour, judge very rarely,
distrust yourself always ; be on your guard against
your prejudices and your likings. Amuse yourself in
your solitude without dissipation, and without being
passionately fond of any amusement. In your prayer do
not neglect either the consideration of the Evangelical
Counsels, or of such of your faults as are specially
opposed to them ; accompany these considerations
with many simple affections ; do not forget to make
good resolutions when you feel them to be suitable
to your needs. After all these necessary things, I will
recommend to you another which is less important,
* His sister, the Duchesse de Beauvilliers.

76 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and that is, that you will love me always. You cannot,
my dear typographer, love a man who is more tenderly
and entirely devoted to you than I am.

23- (54-)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
On the good use of illness ; and on distrust of one's
own judgment. Cambrai [June, 1 700] .
I am told that you are ill, my very dear son in our
Lord, and that you suffer. Your suffering grieves me,
for I love you tenderly ; but I cannot help kissing the
Hand that strikes you, and I beg of you also to kiss
it lovingly with me. Formerly you abused your health,
and the pleasures which health gives. The weakness
and the pain which have now taken the place of health,
are your natural penance. I only pray God that He
may humble your mind even more than your body, and
that while He comforts your body according to its
needs, He may undeceive you entirely with regard to
your mind. Oh, how strong we are, when we cease
to believe in our strength, and when we feel nothing
but the weakness and the limited powers of our own
spirit ! Then we become always ready to think we
may be mistaken, and to confess that it is so, by
correcting ourselves ; then our minds are always open
to the opinions of others ; then we despise nothing but
ourselves and our own ideas ; then we decide nothing,
and we say the most determined things in the simplest
tone and in the manner that is most deferential to
others ; then we willingly allow others to judge us, we
yield without difficulty, and we give the first comer the

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 77
right to censure us. At the same time, we never judge
any one, except from a real necessity ; we only speak
to persons who wish us to speak to them, and while
we are telling them of the imperfections we see in them,
we do so without laying down the law, and rather as
if we would not be reserved with them, contrary to
their wishes, than as if we wished to be believed, or
took pleasure in our criticisms.
This, my very dear sick friend, is the health I
desire for you in your mind, with a real cure of your
body. And while you are waiting for this, suffer
with humility and patience. God knows what a joy
it would be for me if I could embrace you, and have
you with me here, as my own possession. But I hear
the roaring of the storm , which is howling more than
ever ; we must not make it worse by our impatience.
Wait then yet a little longer ; as soon as it is thought
that you may come without danger to your position,
your presence will be a great consolation to me in my
troubles. By asking you to delay your journey, I lay a
heavier burden upon myself than upon you. Nothing
can be more sincere than the tenderness with which I
am entirely devoted to you.

24- (55-)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
On moderation in all things ; exhortation to a simple
and candid course of conduct. [No date.]
I think, my dear sir, that you may follow the advice
which was given you when you were taking the waters :
follow it freely, but be more and more careful never

78 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
to become really lax ; avoid dissipation and all society
and friendships which might bring back your taste for
the world, and diminish the grace that is within you.
Remain always united to the good* ... in spite of
the opposition between your two natural temperaments,
and the lively feelings of both of you, which make you
so sensitive with each other.
I often think of you with pleasure ; but we must be
contented with thinking of one another in our separa
tion, and drawing near to one another in spirit, through
our union with Him to Whom all distances are nothing.
Do not go too much into society. Do not fatigue
yourself, either with too much study, or with morose
solitude, or even with your exercises of devotion. Take
everything with moderation ; change and diversify your
occupations ; do not be too fond of any in particular.
Stop as soon as you feel a certain eagerness which
arises from passion. Mistrust your own determined
and disdainful spirit. As soon as ever a word of this
kind escapes your lips, take a lower tone immediately.
Never judge others, except from necessity. Never
allow yourself any little pretence with a view of making
yourself out to other people better than you really are.
God will be with you, if you have in your heart an
upright and simple intention of carrying out all this.
You will fail, but you must not be discouraged ; and,
while you humble yourself for your faults, you must go
on your way again, and repair the false steps where
self-love has caused you to stumble. I am, my dear
sir, more and more entirely yours, and for ever.
* The Duchesse de Beauvilliers.

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 79

25- (56.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
Different counsels for a wise and Christian rule of life.
July 25, 1700.
1. Be constant in your exercises of piety, that is to
say, in your spiritual reading, in your regular hours of
prayer every day, in your Confessions and Communions.
2. Let your prayer be always on a given subject,
and let it be on a subject suited to your needs, to the
humbling of your spirit, and the restraining of the
sensuality of your body.
3. Let your spiritual reading tend to practical
things and to the correction of your faults ; apply to
yourself all that you read.
4. Be on your guard as to what persons you see
frequently and familiarly ; above all things, fear and
avoid the society of women.
5. Do not think evil of others, without necessity;
let the thought of your own defects prevent you from
being so sensitive and so severe to the defects of others.
6. Accustom yourself to suspend your judgment
upon all those things wherein the demands of prudence
do not oblige you to judge. That habit of deciding
upon everything, and of deciding to the disadvantage
of others, brings about a hastiness of judgment, a
presumption, a harsh and malicious criticism, an
attachment to one's own opinion, and a contempt for
that of others, which are incompatible with an interior
life, in which we must be meek and humble of heart.
7. Avoid the distraction which infatuations always
bring in their train. An infatuation, in its first intensity,
occupies us too much ; it desolates and withers our

80 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
soul ; another infatuation succeeds the first, and life is
passed in these intoxications. When an infatuation is
in its first strength, let it cool down a little, and make
it a subject of prayer ; then when it has only a moderate
attraction for you, take as much of it as is necessary for
you, in a sober manner, — as much as is necessary for the
health of 3'our body, or for a little amusement for your
mind. 8. Do not think of making any change in your
state of life, through restlessness or weariness, or
shame at being useless in the world, or a longing to
make yourself a great person. Those kinds of life
which you have not tried, have also their snares, their
thorns, and their weariness, which you cannot see from
a distance. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof ; the
morrow will le solicitous for itself. (f) To-day let us onfy
think of the things of to-day. You must see what will
become of Madam de  , and of Mademoiselle your
daughter. It is useless to make plans for three years
hence ; God will make an opening for anything He
wishes to do.
9. The holy profession which you have had in view,
demands a great deal of perfection from all those who
embrace it. A child who is being educated for it must
be very innocent : a man of mature age ought not to
leave the world to enter upon it, unless he has extra
ordinary marks of a true vocation. The weariness of
feeling one's self useless in the world is not a reason for
meddling with this sacred ministry : we should find
still more to weary us there than as laymen.
10. Hunting is necessary for your health ; this is a
decisive reason : have no scruple about it. I am not
afraid of hunting, but I am of your hunting companions.
Do not let this exercise for your body make you give
(") Matt. vi. 34.

TO- THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 8>I
up moderate study. You have studied with too much
eagerness; and that was bad for your health, and
even for your soul. Amuse yourself a little with your
books, without an application which may do harm to
your health ; this amusement will make you less inclined
to seek dangerous society.
n. Apply yourself to the regulation of your affairs,
without attaching your heart to them, and without any
ambitious views.
12. Do not be wanting in any of your duties at
Court, in all that relates to your appointment and that
courtesy requires of you ; but have no eagerness for
employments that could awaken your ambition.
13. Since God has permitted, for a long time past,
that you should have no sympathy and no repose of
heart with  , see her but rarely, and gradually
increase the intervals between your visits, until she of
herself draws near to you again, and until God changes
your hearts towards one another.
26. (57-)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
He tells him to avoid haughtiness, and to apply himself
to the practice of humility. April 4, 1701.
I should be delighted to embrace you, my dear sir ;
but you must not come just yet to this frontier, unless
the duties of your service bring you here. As for me,
I shall recommence my visitation on the other side of
Mons, as soon as the season is a little milder. The
sale of your appointment has given me pleasure:
knowing how much satisfaction you would feel about
G **

82 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
it, I also felt a great pleasure. As for the army, you
must not think of giving that up just now. The incli
nation to ambition is very dangerous in this matter : if
it did not support 3?ou, you would soon fail from weari
ness ; and when it does support you, it leads you too
far. You ought to serve the King, through pure fidelity
to God, without seeking any worldly glory.
Do not be discouraged at the experience of your
unfaithfulness. Nothing is so humiliating as the sight
of our own pride, when God shows it to us, and
discovers to us all its unreasonableness. At least,
whenever you perceive that a motion of pride has
escaped you, bring yourself to task, humble yourself,
abase yourself, and then let actual practice be the fruit
of your good-will : otherwise you will have a hatred of
pride and a love for humility, in words only. A great
point is to be simple and in good faith in our desire of
correcting ourselves ; then we do not disguise, or keep
up, or excuse our haughtiness. We draw back, we
make reparation ; we confess that we have been mis
taken, or that we have been too hasty ; we let it be felt
that our haughtiness is not from our hearts, and that
we suffer more confusion from it than those whom we
have made to suffer through it. That which only comes
from our quickness of temper is but weakness, we must
correct ourselves of it ; but this is not the most dangerous
¦evil. As for haughtiness, it comes from our being so
full of ourselves : it is a deep-rooted devil's pride. This
root makes us false, bitter, harsh, cutting, contemptuous,
and critical.
Be reserved with your neighbour, so as not to take
the lead, and to avoid derision and mockery. Keep
yourself in the presence of God ; humble yourself before
Him, that you may be humble in the sight of men.
Do not rely upon men more than is necessary for the

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 83
needs of society. Pray, read, and turn your spiritual
reading into a kind of prayer. Distrust your inclination
for the service of the army, and also at the same time
distrust your disgust with the world. Make no account
either of your longing for a life of retirement, which is
very fine in idea. In one word, make no account what
ever of all your inclinations and all your ideas. Confine
yourself to the duties of each day, which are your daily
bread. By seeing less of  you will see her more
usefully than you have hitherto done. I am yours, a
thousand times, and very tenderly.
27- (58.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
Telling him to die to his natural inclinations, and to live
in an entire dependence upon Divine grace.
[No date.]
I wish you peace, simplicity, recollection, death to
all your inclinations, whether spiritual or corporeal,
mistrust of your own spirit and of your own ideas, with
a great fidelity in corresponding continually to all the
grace which God pours upon you. You wish that God
should destroy you, and this wish is good, because you
only wish to be destroyed, that God may be established
upon the ruins of His creature ; but you must desire it
to please God, and not to please yourself. This desire
must be real and constant in every detail of your life ;
it must be moderate and controlled by obedience. I
am, my very dear son, yours entirely and very tenderly.

84 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

28. (59.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
Exhortations to frankness, to sincerity, to humility, and
to the avoidance of curiosity of mind. [No date.]
I am only writing you two words, my good and dear
son, to recommend frankness to you more and more,
and to beg of you to avoid that sensitiveness in reflect
ing upon yourself which is the cause of the greater part
of your unfaithfulness and of your troubles. The
simpler you are, the more pliable and docile will you
be. To be truly docile, we must be so to all those who
speak to us with charity. Oh, how amiable in the
sight of God is this state of being always ready to be
blamed, despised, and corrected ! You are infinitely
dear to me : Despondi enim te uni viro virginem castam
exhibere Christo — " For I have espoused you to one husband,
that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ." (a)
Be a simple and upright man, without haughtiness,
or decision, or criticism, or contempt, or sensitiveness,
or any juggling tricks of self-love. Be true and sincere,
and on your guard against your own ideas. Be faithful
in renouncing your vanity and the sensibilities of your
self-love as soon as God shows them to your soul.
" Whilst you have the light, believe in the light, that
you may be the children of light." («) I pray God
that He may make you gentle, simple, and a child
with the Child Jesus Who was laid in a manger. Do
not be clever, or determined, or attentive to the faults
of others, or sensitive, or easily wounded, or better in
(") 2 Cor. xi. 2. (*) John xii. 36.

TO THE MARQUIS DE BLAINVILLE. 85
appearance than you are in reality. Oh, how truth is
injured in that which appears best in us !
Restrain all your curiosity for those things for which
you have a passionate attraction, and be faithful to the
practice of never speaking without necessity of that
which you may happen to know more about than others
do. Above all, do not let yourself be bewitched by the
diabolical attractions of geometry. Nothing could so
much extinguish in you the interior spirit of grace, of
recollection, and of death to self.
29. (60.)
TO THE SAME FRIEND.
On the effects of a Christian friendship. [No date.]
You must wean yourself from the most innocent
joys, when God refuses to give them to you. You are
very present to me in Him ; faith has eyes which see
friends better than the eyes of the body. The tender
love which God inspires has arms long enough to
embrace our friends in spite of all distance of place.
Suffer as a man who knows the value of the sufferings
of Jesus Christ. Take care of your health; amuse
your mind that you may comfort your body; seek
consolation with God, and with true friends who are
full of Him ; love me always, and rely upon my love for
you, for I love you as God knows how to make us love.

86 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
30. (6l.)
TO A GENTLEMAN OF THE COURT.
In reply to queries as to the sanctification of indifferent
actions, and the manner of performing exercises of
piety. [No date.]
1.
How shall I offer to God such of my actions as are
purely indifferent, such as walks, duties to the King,
visits to pay or to receive, dressing, cleanliness, such
as washing my hands, &c, reading books of history,
affairs of my friends and relations with which I have
to do, other amusements, going to shops, trying on
clothes, choosing carriages, &c. ? I would 'like, for
each one of these things, to know a kind of prayer,
or a way of offering them to God.
A nswer.
Our most indifferent actions cease to be so, and
they become good, as soon as we perform them with
the intention of conforming ourselves in them to the
scheme of God. Often even they are better and more
pure than certain actions which might appear much
more virtuous : (1) because they are less of our own
seeking, and more in the order of Divine Providence,
when it is necessary for us to do them ; (2) because they
are more simple, and expose us less to the danger of a
vain complacency ; (3) because if we undertake them
all with moderation and purity of heart, we find in
them more to help us to die to our own inclinations,
than in certain actions of fervour, in which self-love is
mixed up ; finally, because these little occasions return

TO A GENTLEMAN OF THE COURT. 87
oftener, and furnish us with a secret opportunity of
profiting by every moment.
There is no need of great efforts, or of acts of
careful reflection, when we wish to offer those actions
which are called indifferent to God. It is sufficient
to raise up our hearts to God for an instant, and to
make a very simple offer of them to Him. All that
God wishes us to do, and all that enters into the
course of the occupations suitable to our state of
life, can and ought to be offered to God. Nothing is
unworth3' of Him, except sin. When you feel that
an action cannot be offered to God, you may conclude
that it is not an action befitting a Christian ; at all
events, you must look upon it with suspicion, and you
must seek to be enlightened about it. I would not
always make a special prayer for each of these things,
a momentary elevation of the heart is quite sufficient.
This habit ought to be simple and easy, so that it may
become frequent.
With regard to visits, making purchases, &c, as
there may be a danger in these things of following
our own taste too much, I would add to the elevation
of heart, a petition for grace to be moderate and to
take precautions against myself. 11.
When I am at prayer, and especially when saying
the Breviary, I have very little attention, or there are
long periods of time during which my mind is elsewhere,,
and sometimes it has been distracted for a long time
before I am aware of it. I wish to find a means or a
practice to be more the master of it.
Answer.
Your fidelity in following the rules that may be

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

proposed to you, and in recalling the attention of your
mind, whenever you perceive its distraction, will
gradually draw upon you the grace of being in the
end less distracted and more recollected. Meanwhile
bear your involuntary distractions with patience and
humility; you deserve nothing better. Is it a thing
to be astonished at, that recollection should be difficult
to a man who was for so long dissipated and far from
God? in.
When I am with the army, how shall I offer to
God the things that are over and above my duty,
actions dangerous or at least fatiguing, such as going
to the trenches, not being commanded to do so, but
from curiosity to see what is going on there, or on any
other expedition, again without being commanded, if
such a case should happen ?
Answer.
In the dangerous occasions of war it is natural to
consider the blindness and fury of men, who kill one
another as if they were not already mortal enough.
War is a madness inspired by the devil. God does
not fail to preside over it, and even to make of it a
holy action, when we engage in it without ambition,
to defend our country. Thus, God can draw good
even out of the greatest evils. Add to this the con
sideration of the nothingness and weakness of all that
the world admires. A little morsel of lead can in a
moment overturn the highest fortune. In this also it
is God Who governs all. He has numbered the hairs
of our head; not one of them can fall without His
express order. Not only does He decide upon our
life, but death even, when He gives it to His own,
has lost its terrors. For them it is a mercy, because

TO A GENTLEMAN OF THE COURT. 89
it takes them quickly away from the midst of iniquities.
He destroys the body to save the soul, and to give it
an eternal kingdom.
Whilst you should do your duty at your post with all
the fearlessness with which faith inspires, you should
also, I think, let this intrepidity exempt you from
seeking out such dangers as are useless, and are not
among the duties appointed to you by Providence.
If it is generally supposed to be fitting for all persons of
your rank to go to the trenches or elsewhere at the
risk of your life, without being commanded to do so, at
least only do in this respect what 3^ou find is done
by wise and moderate people. Do not imitate those
who pride themselves on doing more than all the rest.
It is a great support in danger, to be able to think that
God is leading us into it, either through the duties of
our position, or through an evident fitness, founded on
the example of wise and moderate persons. Woe to
him whom vanity leads into such things, he runs the
risk of being a martyr to his vanity. Do then neither
more nor less than people of a perfect and modest
bravery. IV.
I wish to know if it is fitting that I should continue
to write on my tablets the faults which I commit, and
my sins, in order that I may not run the risk of forget
ting them, if I only make my examination of conscience
just as I am going to confession ; I wish to know if
there is any drawback in so doing. I excite myself as
much as I can to repentance for my faults, but with all
that, I have not yet felt any real sorrow for them.
When I make my examination of conscience every
evening, I see many people more perfect than I am,
who complain of discovering too much ; as for me, I
seek and I discover nothing, and nevertheless it cannot

go SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
be but there must be many things in my conduct every
day for which I ought to ask pardon from God.
A nswer.
As to your examination of conscience, you ought to
make it every evening, but simply and briefly. In the
good dispositions which God has given you, you could
not voluntarily commit any considerable fault, without
reproaching yourself for it and remembering it. As for
little and scarcely perceptible faults, even if you did
forget a great many of them, this forgetfulness ought
not to make you uneasy. Your care in writing upon
your tablets might make you become too scrupulous. I
would advise you to give it up for a month, to try.
As to a lively and sensible sorrow for your sins, it
is not necessary ; God gives it when He pleases. The
real and essential conversion of the heart consists in a
full will to sacrifice all things to God. That which I
call a full will, is a fixed and immoveable disposition of
the will, never to retain, together with the love of God,
any voluntary affection of a kind to impair the purity
of this our love of God, and to abandon ourselves
entirely to all the crosses which perhaps we may have
to bear, that we may accomplish the will of God always
and in all things. This unreserved renunciation,
and this unreserved abandonment, are the most solid
proofs of conversion. As to sensible sorrow, when we
have it, we must thank God for it ; when we find that
we have it not, we must humble ourselves quietly before
God on account of this, and, without exciting ourselves
to produce it by vain efforts, we must confine ourselves
to being faithful as the occasions arise, and to regard
God only in everything.
You find, in your examination, fewer faults than
those who are more advanced and more perfect find ;

TO A GENTLEMAN OF THE COURT. gi
this is because the light within you is still ordinary. It
will increase, and the perception of your infidelities
will increase in proportion. It is sufficient for you,
without disquieting yourself, to try to be faithful to the
degree of your present light, and to instruct yourself
by spiritual reading and meditation. You must not
wish to take upon yourself the anticipation of a time
of more advanced grace, which will discover to you
without difficulty all that an uneasy search would never
show you, or would only show you without bearing
any fruit for your correction. That would only serve
to trouble you, to discourage you, to exhaust you, and
even to dry you up, by a continual distraction. The
time which ought to be given up to the love of God
would be wasted on these forced turnings back upon
yourself, which secretly nourish self-love.
v.
In my prayer, or in my meditated readings, my
mind has a difficulty in finding anything to say to God.
My heart is not in it, or rather it is not touched by the
things which the mind imagines. Answer.
It is not a question of saying much to God. Often
we do not speak much to a friend whom we are
delighted to see ; we look at him with pleasure, we
often say to him certain brief words which are only
the expression of our feelings. Our mind has no part
in this, or very little ; we often repeat these same words.
It is less a diversity of ideas, than the rest and
sympathy of the heart, which we seek in an inter
course with our friend.
It is so that we should be with God, Who does not
disdain to be our tenderest, our most kind, our most

92 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
familiar, and our most intimate Friend. In our medi
tations we should reason with ourselves, though shortly
and simply, to convince ourselves of certain truths,
and to take good measures with regard to practice,
and this is good. But with regard to God, a word, a
sigh, a thought, a feeling says all ; indeed, it is not
even a question of always having sensible transports
and tendernesses ; a good-will that is quite bare and
quite dry, without relish, without vivacity, without
pleasure, is often the purest thing within us in the eyes
of God. In one word, we must be satisfied with
offering Him what He Himself gives us, a heart
burning with love when He inflames it, a heart that
is firm and faithful in its desolation, when He takes
from it all relish and sensible fervour. It does not
always depend upon you to feel, but it always depends
upon you to will. Think only then of having a good
will, equally and at all times, and leave all the rest to
God. Sometimes He will give you sensible fervour,
to support your weakness and your infancy in the
life of grace, at other times He will wean you from
this feeling which is so sweet and so consoling, and
which is the milk of the little ones, that He may
make you grow, and make you strong in the violent
exercises of faith, by giving you to eat the bread of
the strong in the sweat of your brow. Would you
wish to love God only as long as He makes you feel
a pleasure in loving Him ? Then it would be the
tenderness and pleasure that you loved, while you
imagined you loved God. That which we do without
relish and from pure fidelity is very much purer and
more meritorious, although it may appear at first less
fervent and less zealous. Even while you are receiving
sensible consolations with gratitude, prepare yourself
by the practice of pure faith for the time when you

TO A GENTLEMAN OF THE COURT. 93
will be deprived of them, and when you will succumb
suddenly, if you have relied only on this support..
During the abundance of summer we must make
provision for the necessities of winter.
I forgot to speak of the practices which will, in the
beginning, facilitate the remembrance of that offering
which you ought to make to God of the ordinary
actions of the day :
1. Form the resolution of doing so every morning,
and give an account to yourself as to how you have
kept it, in your examination of conscience every
evening. 2. Do no action, except for good reasons, either of
what is befitting your position, or of what is necessary
for the unbending of your mind, &c. Thus, by accus
toming yourself gradually to retrench that which is
useless, you will also accustom yourself to offer to God
that which it is right you should not retrench.
3. Do this every time you hear the clock strike.
4. Renew this disposition in yourself whenever you
are alone, that you may in this way prepare yourself
better to remember it when you are in company.
5. Every time you notice that you have become too
much dissipated, so that your very outward bearing
has lost its dignity, or when you speak too freely about
your neighbour, recollect yourself and offer to God all
that you may say or do, in the continuation of the same
conversation. 6. Have recourse to God with confidence, that you
may act according to His Spirit, whenever you go into
any society or begin any occupation which would be
likely to occasion your committing faults. The sight of
the danger ought to warn you of the need there is for
you to lift up your heart to Him, Who alone can
preserve you from it.

94 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
31. (62.)
TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY.
Telling him how to persevere amidst the dangers of
his profession. [No date.]
You are now on the eve of war, and in the place
where apparently it will commence. I pray the God of
peace to put an end to the differences of all Christians,
and to make our days tranquil. I ask of Him also
your preservation ; I mean not only that of your body,
but also that of your soul, and I am sure that you will
unite your prayers to mine for that, with all your heart.
The contagion of bad example is not less dangerous
to our salvation, than the accidents of war are to our
mortal life. All that we see, all that we hear, attacks
the soul and deals it deadly blows, if God does not
render it invulnerable within. It is by prayer that you
will draw down upon yourself this protection. And
prayer itself has need of being supported by the reading
of the Gospel ; for our meditations, to be solid, must
not be founded on our own thoughts, but on those of
God. If you have time to read the Books of Josue, of
Judges, of the Kings, of Judith, and of the Maccabees,
you will take pleasure in seeing there, how the God of
armies triumphs over the pride of His enemies, and how
He leads as it were by the hand those who hope in
Him. These books will inspire you with a courage
that is founded upon faith, and will teach you to
sanctify war. You will find there delightful example
of faithful, humble, and modest warriors, who prepared
themselves for battle by praying. You also must

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 95
look upon God as the head of your army, as the
strength of your camp, and as your shield. Thou hast
crowned us, said the Prophet-King to God, as with a shield
of Thy good-will. (a) Be a valiant man, and fight the battles
of the Lord.if)
If you are faithful in overcoming the world and your
own passions, which are your most formidable enemies,
God will lift you above all others. You can say to
Him, as David did, that hero who was so devout :
Though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will
fear no evils ; for Thou art with ««.(') I wish with all my
heart that God may fill you more and more with this
spirit of faith and trust.

32- (63-)
TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY.
On meditation, on the choice of reading, and on the
holy liberty with which we should act in all things.
[No date.]
Be very careful, sir, not to take at random any
passage of Scripture, with which to occupy yourself
before God ; that would be to tempt Him : for, although
all Scripture, inspired of God, is profitable to teach men,(°)
yet all the passages of Scripture are neither intended
equally to give us direct and immediate instruction, nor
are they all equally proportioned to the intelligence of
each one in particular ; nor again, are they fit for the
needs of every one of the faithful. Choose then those
portions which are most fitting for the state of your
soul, and for the correction of your faults. Seek that
(<*) Ps. v. 13. CO 1 Kings xviii. 15. ('') Ps. xxii. 4.
(») 2 Tim. iii. 16.

96 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
which will inspire you with vigilance, with trust in God,
with courage against yourself, and with fidelity to the
duties of your position. Add to this reading which 3'ou
do by way of meditation, another spiritual reading in the
course of the day. This second book might be the
Conferences of St. Francis de Sales, which will instruct
you in detail, will make practice easy to you, will
encourage you, and will show you the free and simple
spirit of love, with which we are to serve God joyfully.
The consideration of the greatness and goodness
of God may often be the subject of your reflections ; but
you must not set 3Tourself to meditate, without having
some special words to fix the attention of your mind,
so little accustomed to remain quiet before God. If
you do not do this, you will lose your time, and your
heart will not be nourished. You must always have a
certain subject, but it must.be a clear and simple
one, upon which you have no need to make subtle
reflections. Rather ask of God to give you those
affections which will attach you to Him : for it is
not through the intelligence or the reasoning powers
that He draws souls to Himself; it is through the
emotions of the heart, and through the humiliation of
the mind. Do not hope to succeed in never being
distracted during your meditation, for that is impos
sible ; try only to profit by your distractions, by bearing
them with a humble patience, without ever being
discouraged. Every time that you become aware of
them, turn quietly again to God. Great uneasiness
about distractions is a more dangerous distraction than
any other.
A short half-hour of reading and meditating on
the Gospel in the morning, and in the evening
regular spiritual reading in the Conferences of St. Francis
de Sales, will be quite sufficient for you, as you

TO AN OFFICER OF THE ARMY. 97
have very little time to yourself. Employ the rest of
your free time in reading books of history, of fortifica
tion, and of all other subjects which may be useful to
a man of your rank. Never have an idle moment.
The moment that you cease to do that which is regular
and good, is the moment in which you will begin to
do a very great evil. Scold yourself pitilessly for a
slothful, idle, and dissipated life.
As for your actions, when they are good in them
selves, thrust back all reflections upon the motives
which cause you to do them. If you are not careful
about this, you will never have done with yourself, you
will be troubled, you will fall into discouragement, and
by vain reasonings about your actions, you will lose
the time intended for action.
You must make a resolution to lead a more active
life then you are leading now. You ought to see
people of your own rank of life ; but you must be
cheerful, free, and affable ; let there be nothing shy or
morose about you. Ask God to take away from you
your shy, cold, and reserved manner ; make an offering
of yourself to God when you are going into society ;
but, during conversation, do not be distracted and
dreamy, for the purpose of running after the presence
of God, which may seem to be escaping your grasp.
Do at such times, what He wishes you to do, which is
to be kind and pleasant. In the course of time, the
continual sense of the presence of God will become
more easy to you. Do not imagine that piety consists
in a certain sad, austere, and constrained seriousness.
Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. (a) If only
you love Him once for all with your whole heart, you
will almost always be full of joy, and your heart will be
free. If you only go to Him like a Jew, by the way of
(") 2 Cor. iii. 17.
H

g8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
fear, you will never find Him, and you will find, instead
of Him, nothing but constraint and anxiety of heart.
Never fail to show yourself wherever others do so,
not only on occasions of danger, but also on all occa
sions which can manifest your devotion to your Prince.
Be a good friend, obliging, always ready to help,
frank and open ; all this will make 3rou beloved, and
will put a stop to persecution. Let them see that it
is not from cant or gloominess, but from true religion
and true courage, that you have given up the excesses
of youth. In all other things, be cheerful, discreet,
kind, reliable with all those who have intercourse with
3'ou, and never standing on ceremony ; have but few
friends, and many passing acquaintances ; be careful
in pleasing those who pass for the most honest people,
and whose esteem decides a man's career, or those
who excel in the profession in which you wish to be
instructed. Do not be afraid to ask them questions,
as soon as you have succeeded in becoming a little at
your ease with them. 33-* (64-)
TO A LADY WHO WAS LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE.
That we must listen to God, and not to our self-love.
You allow yourself to be led away too much by
your inclination and your imagination. Apply yourself
again to listen for the voice of God in prayer, and
listen less to yourself. Self-love speaks less when he
sees that we pay no attention to him. The words of
God to the heart are simple and peaceful ; they nourish
* This letter, and those immediately following it, as far as
No. 42 inclusively, are all addressed to the same person, and in
the order here given.

TO A LADY WHO WAS LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE. gg
the soul, even if they bring death to it : on the contrary,
the words of self-love are full of inequality, of dis
turbance, and of emotion, even when they flatter us.
To listen for the voice of God, without making any
plans of our own, is to die to our own judgment and
our own will. 34- (65-)
TO THE SAME.
How to place ourselves in the presence of God,
without effort.
Do not be uneasy about 3Tour illness ; you are in
God's hands. You must live as if you were to die
each day. Then you will be quite read3' ; for our
preparation for death simpty consists in detaching
ourselves from the world to attach ourselves to God.
While you are so weak, do not put the constraint
upon yourself of making your prayer so regularly.
Such exactitude and such application of mind might
do harm to your feeble health. It is quite enough for
you, in your present state of weakness, if you quietly
replace yourself in the presence of God, whenever you
perceive that you are no longer there. A simple and
familiar companionship with God, in which 3'ou can
tell Him all your troubles, with a perfect trust in Him,
and in which you can beg of Him to comfort you, will
never exhaust you, and will nourish your heart. Do
not be afraid to tell me all you may have thought
against me. Such a frankness of speech will not pain
me at all, and will be a useful humiliation for you.

IOO SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

35- (66.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must quietly fight against the wanderings
and the frivolity of our imagination.
I think that you must abstain entirely from your
imaginary dialogues. Although you may make some
which excite you to pious sentiments, I think that the
constant use of them is too dangerous for you. From
those which may possibly be useful to you, you might so
easily, and always insensibly, pass to others, which would
only increase your troubles, or would flatter your taste
for the world. It is better to suppress them all entirely.
You must not try to put a stop to them by violence ;
that would be to attempt to stop a torrent : it is
sufficient never willingly to occupy yourself with them.
When you perceive that your imagination is beginning
to work, content yourself with turning at once to God,
without attempting to offer a direct opposition to these
fancies. Let them pass away, by applying yourself to
some useful occupation. If they come during the hour
of prayer, look upon all such vain thoughts as dis
tractions, and return peacefully to the thought of God,
as soon as you are conscious of them ; but do so,
without disturbance, without scruple, without inter
rupting the peace of your soul. If, on the contrary,
this should happen to you while you are occupied in
some exterior work, your work will be useful in drawing
your attention away from these dreams. It would even
be better, in the beginning, if you were to go and find
some one to speak to, or if you were to apply yourself
to some difficult task, that you might break the current
of these thoughts, and get rid of the habit of them.

TO A LADY WHO WAS LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE. IOI

36. (67.)
TO THE SAME.
Upon the same subject.
You must absolutely put a stop to these imaginary
conversations : it is a pure waste of time ; it is a most
dangerous occupation ; it is a temptation which you are
bringing upon yourself. It is a matter of obligation for
you never to give way to it voluntarily. Perhaps habit
may still cause your imagination to be occupied with
all these fancies, in spite of yourself; but at least you
must never consent to them, and you must try quietly
to avoid them whenever you are conscious of them.
The true means of getting rid of them altogether, is to
occupy yourself when they come, either in prayer or
in some exterior work, if prayer cannot put a stop to
your excited imagination. 37. (68.)
TO THE SAME.
Containing a reply to various difficulties with regard to
interior attraction, recollection, openness of heart,
&c, and the course of conduct to be pursued
towards creatures.
I see nothing but what is good and solid in all you
tell me about your prayer. The attraction towards
God which you feel is a great grace, and you would be
very guilty if you failed to correspond fully with it.
Have no fear in following this attraction ; but fear
much, if you follow it not. You confess that you are
never distracted from it, except through 3'our fickle
imagination, or through those vain dialogues within

102 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
yourself, or by the vexations of pride. If you were
always faithful in never willingly admitting any of
these dangerous distractions, you would be always in
peace and in union with God.
These are my reflections about you :
I. You tell me that even after you have failed in
your recollection, and when you feel troubled for your
fault, sometimes the thought comes to you, to remain quietly
there in your grief, and to unite yourself to Jesus crucified.
You add : This is the best way I can find to console my
sorrow. Since it is the best, why do you seek for others
which might harm you ?
II. You speak of the fancies which occupy your
mind, and of your consent to the thought of telling
them to me, which brings back your tranquillity ; and
you say : / shoidd like very much to know if it would be
sufficient to humble myself before God, with this same consent
of the will, without really telling you afterwards. No, that
would not be sufficient. You are not really humbled
before God, if you are not willing to humble yourself
also before the man whom you consult as His minister.
It is pride which makes you feel so much repugnance
in speaking to me. You must tell everything to me
simply, whatever it may cost you. You will never have
any true peace until you are accustomed to this ; but
you must do it without delay, without hesitation, and
without paying any attention to yourself. The more
you hesitate, the more difficulty you will find in
accomplishing this.
III. Do not be astonished at making certain Com
munions without any consolation; this dryness does not
depend upon you. We often gain more merit by being
faithful in a desolation which is painful and grievous
to self-love, than in a sensible consolation which flatters
and lifts up the heart. The light of which you tell me,

TO A LADY WHO WAS LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE. IO3
that makes you go on without taking any notice of
yourself, and go to Communion in spite of your
scruples, is very good.
IV. You speak very truly, when you say : The fear
that I have of my sufferings makes me feel them doubly ; I
should even be often free from them, if it were not for the
fear. Those troubles, which we persist in seeing from
afar off, weigh us down much more than the troubles
which are close to us. Why should we wish to see
them before they come ? To do so, is to torment
ourselves beforehand, and to expose ourselves to the
temptation of giving way under them, to our own pure
loss. V. There are three ways of associating with
creatures: (i) we must be united to every one by a spirit
of fidelity to our duty, whenever we have any business to
transact with our neighbour. (2) We must seek some
innocent relaxation of our minds with the good people
given us by Divine Providence as our associates. This
relaxation of mind ought only to be sought for in the
hours which follow after work, and we must not hope
to find entire confidence and identity of sentiments
with these people ; it will be sufficient if we find with
them some rest for our mind, by unbending it. (3) We
must be very simple and open-hearted with those
persons to whom we are united by grace, and such
persons are very rarely to be found. We must not
expect to find many.
VI. Remember that it is the pleasure which you take in
your own intellectual powers, that it costs you most to
sacrifice, and bring into subjection to grace, as you
yourself acknowledge. Therefore, that is the essential
point for you. Go to Communion, obey, renounce this
intellectual self-complacency. I am all yours, in our
Lord.

104 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
38. (69.)
TO THE SAME.
Various counsels upon prayer.
As to that which regards your prayer, always
propose to yourself, when making it, some simple and
solid subject, that is also of practical use for attaining
the virtues of the Gospel. If you find no food for your
soul in this given subject, and if you feel an attraction
and a facility for remaining in a state of general union
with God, remain so as long as you find yourself drawn
thereto ; but never make it a rule for yourself, and be
alwa3's faithful in proposing a special subject of medi
tation to yourself, to see if it can occupy and nourish
you. Receive without making any resistance the
illuminations and sentiments which may come to you
in prayer; but do not trust to any of these things,
which might flatter 3'our pride, and fill you with vain
self-complacency. It is better to be very humble and very much
ashamed after the faults we have committed, than to
be pleased with our prayer, and to think ourselves very
much advanced, after having had many fine feelings
and grand thoughts while we have been praying to
God. Let all such things pass ; they may be helps
sent to us from God ; but we must remember that
they may be turned for us into very dangerous
•delusions, if we dwell upon them ever so little, to
seek our own pleasure therein. The great point is
to mortify ourselves, to obey, to distrust ourselves,
to carry our cross. Moreover, I am very glad to hear
that you no longer make your prayer with that forced
impetuosity which put so great a constraint upon you.

TO A LADY WHO WAS LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE. I05
Your prayer is more peaceful for this change, and you
are also more accommodating to your neighbour in
society, for the same reason ; but you must never
allow this holy liberty to degenerate into relaxation
or dissipation. 39- (7o.)
TO THE SAME.
On the usefulness of privations.
I am sincerely sorry for the adverse circumstances
which have prevented me from seeing 3'ou. In the
meantime follow faithfully the light which God gives
you, to die to the refinements and sensibilities of your
self-love. When we give ourselves up entirely to the
designs of God for us, we are as willing to be
deprived of sensible consolations, as to enjoy them.
It even often happens that a privation which disturbs
and humbles us is more useful to us than an abundance
of sensible helps.
Why should it not be useful for you to be deprived
of my presence and of my poor advice, when it is
sometimes very wholesome for us to be deprived of
the sensible presence and the consoling gifts of God
Himself? God is very near us when He seems far
away from us, if we bear this apparent absence of His
in a spirit of love for Him, and of death to ourselves.
Accustom yourself a little then to this weariness.
When children begin to grow they make a change,
from the milk of a tender mother who carries them in
her bosom, to walking alone and eating dry bread.

106 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
40. (71.)
TO THE SAME.
On the precautions to be taken against illusion.
Pay no voluntary attention whatever to those things
which you tell me you have experienced. Such things
may be nothing but imagination : they may also come
from an illusion of the tempter, who may wish to
spread a snare for you, sometimes of vain self-com
placency, sometimes of discouragement. It is quite
true that it is not impossible these things may come
from God. Therefore, you must not make any effort
or act to reject them. The only thing for you to do is
to suffer them to pass by, without either rejecting or
accepting them, contenting yourself with a general
acquiescence in whatever God pleases. By this
simple and general disposition, you will draw all the
profit from these things, supposing they do come from
God, without exposing yourself to any self-complacency;
and supposing they do not come from God, you will
be sheltered from all illusion by thus resting in nothing
but in God alone. 41. (72.).
TO THE SAME.
That we must prefer charity and humility to our
reputation and our desire of knowledge.
I am very much pleased with the dispositions you
are in, and you do very well to tell me so simply of all
that passes within you. Never hesitate to write to me
about those things which you believe God asks of you.

TO A LADY WHO WAS LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE. I07
It is not surprising that you should have a kind of
jealousy and ambition to advance in spirituality, and
to be in the confidence of advanced servants of God.
Self-love naturally seeks after this kind of success,
which is of a kind to flatter it. But the question
is, not of satisfying a kind of ambition by making a
certain brilliant progress in virtue, nor of being in the
confidence of distinguished persons ; but of dying to
all these flattering inclinations of self-love, of humbling
ourselves, of loving obscurity and contempt, and of
seeking after God alone.
It is not by persistent listening to the language of
perfection, or by reading about it, that we become
perfect. The great thing is never to listen to ourselves,
to listen in silence for the voice of God, to renounce
all vanity, and to apply ourselves to the practice of
real virtues : to speak little and to do much, without
caring about being seen.
God will teach you much more than all the most
experienced persons and all the most spiritual books.
Ah ! What is it that you wish so much to know ?
What need you learn, except to be poor in spirit and
to find all your knowledge in Jesus Crucified ? Know
ledge puff eth up : only charity edifieth.(f) Seek for nothing
then but charity. Ah ! is it necessary to be so learned,
to know how to love God and how to renounce our
selves for the love of Him ? You know much more
good than you put in practice. You have far less need
of acquiring new lights, than of putting in practice
those which you have already received. Oh, how we
deceive ourselves, when we think to advance in per
fection by reasoning with curiosity! Be humble, and
do not expect from men that which only God can give.
(") 1 Cor. viii. 1.

108 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
42- (73-)
TO THE SAME.
Various counsels for interior peace.
I beg of you not to be uneasy. Your prayer is
good, and you must not give it up. That which you
write to me about it makes me understand very well
in what it consists, and the fruit which you can draw
from it. Continue it in all docility, and avoid all the
reflections which trouble you to no purpose. Look
upon them as real temptations which are trying to
draw you away from your peace and trust in God.
Do you wish to avoid delusion ? Be docile ; do not
seek after that which flatters your self-love ; renounce
that which God does not give you ; pay no attention
to your vexations, or to your temptations to return to
the vanities and amusements of the world. Bear
humbly the crosses of your state ; distrust that
inclination of your mind which is nothing but vanity ;
seek that which is simple and unaffected ; resist all
thoughts which only come to you from your wounded
self-love. I am indeed yours in our Lord, as I ought to be, but
with the precautions that are necessary to avoid flatter
ing that self-love which wishes to be flattered.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. log

43-* (74-)
TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD,
AND LEADING A DEVOUT LIFE.
How to make a good use of the present moment;
exhortation to recollection and humility.
Live in peace, mademoiselle, without thinking there
is a future. Perhaps there will be no future for you.
The present even is not yours, and you must only make
use of t according to the intentions of God, to Whom
alone it belongs. Do the exterior good works which
you are accustomed to do, since you have an attraction
for them, and a facility in doing them. Be faithful to
the rule of life you have laid down for yourself, that so
you may avoid dissipation and the consequences of
your extreme vivacity. Above all things be faithful
to the present moment, which will draw down upon
you all the graces necessary for you.
It is not enough to be detached, you must humble
yourself. When we are detached, we only renounce
exterior things ; when we are humble, we renounce
ourselves. To humble ourselves, is to renounce all
greatness that can be perceived. There is the greatness
of wisdom and virtue, which is still more dangerous
than the greatness of worldly fortune, because it is
much more refined. We must be little in all things,
and remember that we have nothing of our own, our
virtue and our courage less than all the rest. You
* This and the following letters, as far as No. 69 inclusive, are
written to the same person. It will be seen from them, that this
lady, after having lived a long time in the world, entered, towards
the close of her life, into a religious community, to labour there
more perfectly in the work of her salvation.

110 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
rely too much upon your courage, upon your dis
interestedness, and upon your uprightness. A child
has nothing of his own ; a diamond and an apple are
the same thing to him. Be a child. Nothing of your
own. Forget yourself. Give way to all. Let the
least things be greater than you. Pray simply from
your heart, out of pure affection, not with your head
like a person who is reasoning.
The true instruction for you is self-renunciation,
profound recollection, the silence of the whole soul
before God, giving up all intellectual self-complacency,
a taste for humiliation, for obscurity, for powerlessness
and annihilation. This is the ignorance which alone
teaches all those truths which the wisdom of the world
can never discover, or which it can only show super
ficially. 44 (75-)
TO THE SAME.
That we should prefer peace and edification to our own
justification. [Probably 1697.]
Permit me to ask of you the name of the person
who wrote a letter which has been sent to me through
you. I only ask of you what you may justly confide
to me. This letter appears to me to have been written
by an upright man, who judges dispassionately in
matters of doctrine ; but he knows nothing of the facts,
and therefore does not do me justice. The less my
friends can possibly speak, the better it will be : it is
best to keep silence even about the decisive points.
This course of listening patiently to false and unjust
things is a difficult one for kind and sensitive hearts

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. Ill
to take ; but it is better to calm disquieted minds, than
to justify me. Silence, patience, and humility do calm
all minds ; proud men are softened by them, and the
men who are upright in their prepossessions are edified
by them. Let us try to appease the wicked, and to
edify the good. The peace and edification of the
Church are worth more than the justification of the
individual man.
God will take care to disperse these vain shadows,
and to discover the purity of my sentiments and
my good intentions, if He condescends to wish to
make use of my labours for the benefit of the
flock which He has confided to my care. If He
refuses me the permission to labour for Him, it is
for me to bear the disgrace, and to content myself with
giving an account of my faith to any man who will
have the charity to listen to me. Pray for me, and
always restrain the zeal which moves your heart for
your friends. It is only by persistence in simplicity,
patience, distrust of our own opinions, and faithfulness
in bearing our cross, that we become worthy to help
in the work of God. 45- (76.)
TO THE SAME.
On the peril of being approved of by men. The character
of true humility. The means of remedying distraction
and dryness.
The news of the good health of M  and of your
present calm gives me joy. Nevertheless, I fear for
you, lest self-love should find too much pleasure in this
sweetness, which is so different from the bitterness in
which you have been. Contradictions and all other

112 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
humiliating troubles are much more useful for us than
success. You know that this state of humiliation made
you discover here in yourself things which you had
never known of before ; and I am afraid that authority
and success, and the admiration which we so easily
draw upon ourselves from uncultivated provincial
people — all these things may nourish the natural
imperiousness of 3'our disposition, and may make you
as well satisfied with yourself as you used to be. This
self-satisfaction will spoil the most virtuous life, because
it is quite incompatible with humility.
We cease to be humble, when we cease to be
conscious of all our miseries. The sight of these must
be the principal occupation of the soul ; the soul must
be a burden to herself, she must groan, and her groaning
must be a continual prayer ; she must long to be
delivered from the bondage of corruption, that she may
enter into the glory and liberty of the children of God ;
and, feeling herself overwhelmed by her faults, she
must expect her deliverance only from the pure mercy
of Jesus Christ. Woe to the soul that takes pleasure
in herself, that appropriates to herself the gifts of God,
and forgets all her wants and miseries !
If you wish to find a remedy for your distractions
and dryness, you must reserve certain hours for your
prayers and spiritual reading, and they must be regular
hours ; you must only occupy yourself with wordly
affairs when it is absolutely necessary ; and when you
are so occupied, you must think more of breaking your
unbending views and sentiments, of repressing your
bad temper, and of humbling the pride of your intellect,
than even of making the right prevail in the course to
be taken ; finally, you must humble yourself whenever
you observe that an indiscreet eagerness about the
affairs of others is making you forget your own one

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. II3
important affair, which is that of eternity. Learn of Me,
our Lord Jesus Christ says to you, because I am meek
and humble of heart, and you shall find rest to your souls. (a)
And in truth, grace, interior peace, and the unction
of the Holy Spirit will come upon you, if you preserve
meekness and humility in the midst of your exterior
annoyances. 46. (770
TO THE SAME.
That we must bear insults with humility and in silence.
I am touched, as I ought to be, to hear of all your
troubles ; but I can only pity you, and beg of God to
console you. You have great need that He should
give you His Spirit to support you in your difficulties,
and to moderate your natural quickness of temperament
in occasions so calculated to excite it. As to the letter
concerning your birth, I think you ought to speak of
it to God alone, to beg His forgiveness for the person
who has wished so to insult you. I have always
perceived, or thought I perceived, that you were very
sensitive upon that point. God always attacks us
through some weak point. We do not attempt to kill
a person by striking him upon lifeless parts of his body,
such as his nails or his hair ; but we attack the parts
which are most full of life, the parts that are called
noble. When God wishes to make us die to ourselves,
He attacks us through that which is most full of life
within us, through that which is, as it were, the very
centre of our life. In this manner does He proportion
our crosses. Suffer yourself to be humbled : silence
and peace in the midst of humiliation are the true
(") Matt. xi. 29. **

114 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
riches of the soul. We might be tempted to speak in
a humble manner, and there might be a thousand fine
excuses for this ; but it is still better to keep a humble
silence. That humility which goes on speaking is still
to be suspeeted ; when we speak, self-love gets a little
comfort. Do not be excited about what men say : let them
speak, and try to do the will of God. As for the will
of men, you will never succeed in doing it ; it is not
worth while taking the trouble to try. A little silence,
a little peace and union with God, ought to console us
well for all that men may say unjustly. We must love
them without relying upon their friendship. They go
away from us, they return, they go away again ; let
them go, they are like a feather that the wind carries
away. Let us seek God alone in them ; it is He Who
will console us, or Who will afflict us through them,
according to our needs.
You require all your fortitude in your present
situation, but at the same time your natural vivacity
has need of misunderstandings and obstacles. Possess
your soul in patience. Often renew your sense of the
presence of God ; it will help you to restrain yourself,
to humble yourself afresh, and to lower yourself to the
level of the little ones. Nothing is really great but
humility, charity, distrust of ourselves, detachment
from our own opinion and our own will. All haughty
and rigid virtue is opposed to Jesus Christ. God
knows how much I am yours in Him.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 115

47. (78.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must apply ourselves to recollection and humility;
and repress our natural curiosity in our choice of
reading.
I know of nothing for you but what I have always
told you : obey your director simply, without paying
any attention to your reason or your inclination. You
have the advice of a very enlightened and very pious
man. As for myself, this is what I can say to you in
a general way. It seems to me that you ought to be
firm in reserving hours of recollection for yourself,
otherwise you will become the cross of her who wishes
you to be her support and consolation. You have
a terrible natural inclination for dissipation and vain
complacency ; you love to be applauded, and to applaud
yourself; you feel in your reason and in your natural
courage a strength which nourishes your pride. It is
only recollection that can destroy this life of pride, and
moderate your unbearable vivacity.
Observe two things only for your hours of recollec
tion : the first is that you must not reserve them out of
a spirit of contradiction and impatience with N  ,
who might wish to have you always with her. When
you feel that you are acting under the influence of this
bad spirit, you must punish yourself for it, by yielding
for that day to her most tiresome importunities. The
other rule is, only to reserve for yourself the time which
is really necessary for recollecting yourself and for
feeding your soul. Nothing must be done for amuse
ment in your case, nothing for curiosity, which is

Il6 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
a great snare for you. As for your manner in reserving
this time for yourself, it must be firm, but gentle and
tranquil. Let your spiritual reading and your prayer be
simple, let your mind seek less therein, and let your
heart expand more. All that seems to fill your mind
only puffs it up ; you think you are feeding your zeal,
and in reality you are feeding your pride. It is not
a question of knowing a great deal, but of knowing how
to make yourself little and to become a child in the-
hand of God. I pray of Him, that He will not only
make you little, but also that He will annihilate you
without reserve.
As for meditation on those subjects which cause
fear, I do not think that there is any necessity for you
to force yourself to enter upon them. You will often
meet with good souls who will press you to do so, and
who will tremble for you, when they see that you do
not tremble ; but do not force yourself, follow your
attraction simply, and provided you are faithful to
recollection and humility, remain in peace. It is quite
enough fear for us when we fear to displease God.
As for your curiosity about the best books, you must
repress that. You have learnt by experience that it is
dangerous for you, and this is a light for which you
owe a singular gratitude to God. Under pretence of
seeking for solid instruction we preserve a taste which
flatters our self-love, and which nourishes a certain
pride of intellect which is opposed to the Spirit of God.
We must humble ourselves, we must make ourselves
simple, we must become little children. It is in this
that true instruction is to be found, and not in things
that make a brilliant external show.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. II7

48. (79-)
TO THE SAME.
That we are not to excite ourselves about the vices
faults of others, but refer all quietly to God, and do
our own duty faithfully.
All that warmth of the imagination, that intensity
of feeling, a crowd of reasonings, an abundance of
words, are of little or no use. That which is really
effectual is to act in the presence of God, with a perfect
detachment, doing what we can by the light He gives
us, and being satisfied with the measure of success
which He grants us. This continual death is a blessed
life which few people know. One word said simply in
this peace has more effect even as to exterior affairs,
than all the most ardent and anxious cares. As it
is the Spirit of God which is then speaking, our
word loses nothing of His strength and authority.
It is He Who enlightens, persuades, touches, edifies.
We have said scarcely anything, and all is done. On
the contrary, when we suffer ourselves to be led away
by our natural vivacity, we speak without end ; we
make a thousand subtle and superfluous reflections ;
we are always afraid that we have not spoken or
acted sufficiently; we get excited, we exhaust our
selves, we get into a passion, we distract ourselves,
and still nothing is any better. Your natural tempera
ment has an infinite need of these maxims. They are
no less necessary for your body than for your soul;
your physician would agree with your director in this
matter. Let the water flow under the bridges ; let men be
men, that is to say, let them be weak, vain, faithless,

Il8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
unjust, false, and presumptuous. Let the world be
always the world ; and all is said. Moreover, you
cannot hinder it. Let every one follow the natural
bent of his character and his usual habits ; you cannot
remodel people ; the shortest way is to leave them
alone and to bear with them. Accustom yourself to
unreasonableness and injustice. Remain in peace in
the bosom of God, Who sees these evils more clearly
than you do, and Who permits them. Content your
self with doing quietly the little that depends upon
you ; let all the rest be for you as if it were not.
I am delighted to hear that you are able to reserve
some hours to yourself: do not be a miser over them,
and do not waste them. 49- (80.)
TO THE SAME.
How we must seek our friends in God, and mortify
ourselves.
We must accommodate ourselves to that which God
gives, without having any choice in the matter. It is
right that His will should be done and not ours, and
that His will should become ours without reserve, in
order that it may be done on earth as it is done in
Heaven. This is worth a thousand times more than
seeing each other, entertaining one another, consoling
one another. Oh, how near we are to each other,
when we are closely united in the bosom of God ! Oh,
how well we can speak to each other, when we have
no longer but one sole will and one sole thought in Him
Who is all things within us ! Would you then find
your true friends ? Seek them only in Him, Who is
the Author of pure and eternal friendships. Do you

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. Iig
wish to speak to them, and listen to them ? remain in
silence in the bosom of Him Who is the word, the life,
and the soul of all those who speak the truth, and live
the true life. You will find in Him not only all you
need, but also all that is found only very imperfectly in
the creatures to whom you trust.
You cannot mortify your natural vivacity too much,
or the great habit you have of following your activity ;
so that instead you may keep silence and suffer and
never form an opinion without necessity, and listen for
the voice of God within you. To do all these things
is to practise a continual prayer and a continual death
during the whole course of the da3'.

50. (81.)
TO THE SAME.
On the advantages of seeing ourselves near death.
It is good for us to go near the gates of death ; we
see God much nearer there ; we accustom ourselves to
do that which we shall be obliged to do soon. We
ought to know ourselves better, when we have been
so near the judgment of God and the rays of eternal
truth. Oh, how great is God, how He is all, and how
we are nothing, when we are so near to Him, and when
the veil that hides Him from us is going to be lifted !
Profit by this grace to detach yourself from the world,
and still more from yourself ; for we only set a value
on other things for our own sake, and all other attach
ments can be reduced to this one.
Love God then, and renounce yourself for the love
of Him. Love neither your intellect nor your courage.
Restrain all complacency in the gifts of God to you,

120 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
such as disinterestedness, justice, sincerity, generosity
towards your neighbour. All these things come from
God ; but all these things can be turned into poison,
all these things can fill us with the thought of self and
puff us up, as soon as ever we begin to lean secretly
upon them. We must be annihilated in our own eyes,
and we must act in that spirit upon all occasions.
It is necessary for us to be all our lives hidden, and,
as it were, annihilated, like as Jesus Christ is in the
Sacrament of His Love. 5I. (82.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must bear quietly the low opinion which others
may have of us.
When any persons think they have discovered
meannesses in you, you must not pay any attention to
the pain you feel about it. There is a secret pride
and a refinement of self-love in us, when we are
impatient in hearing that others should think us
capable of meanness and weakness in our sentiments.
You have felt this acutely yourself when you have
said : My pride would have made me defend myself ; perhaps
there was pride in such a justification, &c.
For myself, not only do I quite consent that people
should think me capable of meanness, but also I wish
to believe it myself, and I find no peace within my
soul, except in proportion as I find there no greatness,
no strength, no resource, and see myself capable of
everything that is most contemptible, that so I may
find my assistance in God alone.
For the rest, you have done very well in telling me
simply all that passes in your heart. When we do not

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 121

willingly give way to these refinements, and when we
confess them with sincerity, in spite of the repugnance
we feel to saying anything about them, we have done
all that is necessary, and we must remain at peace.
It is true that I have told you that you have not made
such an advance in perfection as was to be desired, but
you ought to be less astonished at this than any one
else, you who have told me of the state of constraint,
of distraction, and of unceasing trouble in which you
were for so many years, without being able to practise
recollection at all. What I find good in you, notwith
standing these causes which keep you back, consists in
the following things. You have returned to recollection
and prayer, you have the light and attraction to labour
in extinguishing your natural vivacity, you wish to be
simple and docile and to give up your own ideas.
These are solid foundations, the rest will be done little
by little. It is a question of dying, but God works
with us. He acts by persuasion and by love. We
must believe and desire all that He asks of us, and
He simply asks to put the holy love of Himself in the
place of our own deceitful and unjust self-love.

52- (83-)
TO THE SAME.
On the necessity and happiness of suffering in this life.
I share in all your troubles, but we must indeed
carry the Cross with Jesus Christ during this short
life. Soon we shall have no more time to suffer ; then
will be the time for us to reign with a God of conso
lation, Who will have wiped away all our tears with
His own hand, and in Whose presence sorrow and

122 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
crying shall flee away for ever. While this moment
of trial, which is so short and so light, remains to us,
let us lose nothing of the value of the Cross. Let us
suffer humbly and in peace. Self-love exaggerates our
troubles to us, and magnifies them in our imagination.
A cross that is borne simply, without any of these self-
occupations of a self-love that is ingenious in increasing
them, is only half a cross. When we suffer in this
simplicity of love, not only are we happy in spite of
the cross, but also we are happy through the cross,
for love is glad to suffer for the beloved one, and the
cross which makes us like our Beloved, is a bond of
love which consoles us.
Bear the heavy burden of an aged person, who can
no longer bear it for herself. At such an age the
reason is weakened ; virtue even, unless it has been
very deeply rooted, seems to become relaxed, the
temper and natural restlessness have then all the
strength that the mind has lost, and irritability alone
remains. Oh, this is indeed a good and precious cross !
You must embrace it, you must carry it every day, and
perhaps until death. There is something in this to
kill mind and body.
But it is also a happiness and a comfort that you
should have some hours free, in which you can breathe
in peace in the bosom of our Lord. It is there that
you can lay your burden down, and renew your strength
before you begin your work again. Take care of your
health. Comfort your mind even by some intervals of
repose, of joy, and of innocent freedom. The more
advanced the age of a person is, the less we must
expect from one who has no resources in herself. You
must depend upon her for scarcely anything; but at
the same time do not take too much upon yourself.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 123
53- (84.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must deaden our natural activity.
I fear that your natural vivacity may consume you,
in the midst of all the painful circumstances which
surround you. You cannot let your natural tempera
ment be deadened too much by prayer and by a frequent
renewal of the thought of the presence of God during
the course of the day. A Christian person who is
excited about the trifles of this world, and who is
surprised in this excitement by the remembrance of
the presence of God, is like a little child who sees
himself surprised by his mother when he is angry
over some of his games, he is quite ashamed of being
discovered so. Let us then keep our souls in peace,
doing the best we can, or rather the least badly we can,
with regard to all our exterior duties, and let us occupy
ourselves interiorly with Him Who should be our only
Love. Never be conscious of your natural impulses
without passing them by at once, in order that grace
alone may possess you freely. You must suspend the
action of your soul as soon as you feel that nature is
getting the upper hand there. Such fidelity in this
point is as good for the body as for the soul. We
neglect nothing, and yet we are not troubled about
things, as Martha was.

I24 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

54- (850
TO THE SAME.
That we must be condescending to others, and yet preserve
a firmness that is necessary to prevent us from being
drawn into laxity.
I pity you, but you must suffer. We are only in
this world to purify ourselves, by dying to our own
inclinations and our own will. Die then ; you have
plenty of good opportunities of doing so : what a pity
to waste them ! I am convinced, as you are, that you
must not give up anything of your daily rule of life,
but as to taking a whole day, or making a retreat of
eight days, in these things you must have compassion
on the weakness of your neighbour. You can regain in
little details that which you lose in the greater. You
must use a little ingenuity with people who are afflicted
with vapours. If we tell them what we are going to do,
without softening it to them, we drive them to despair ;
on the other hand, if we leave them the least hope of
encroaching upon us, they will never leave go of us
until they have brought us round to their arrangements.
You must then give way cleverly, according as the
occasion arises, in certain little things, but as for those
that are essential, you must make use of all the firmness
which you had to exercise in the matter of your rule of
life. But remember that true firmness is gentle, humble,
and tranquil. All bitter, proud, and uneasy firmness
is unworthy of being employed in the works of God.
The Holy Scriptures tell us that God acts mightily and
sweetly if), act then in the same manner, and if you make
(") Wisdom viii. i.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. I25
a mistake and act roughly, humble yourself at once,
without growing weak. Confess that you have been
wrong in your manner, but as to the matter, keep to
your rule.
In all other respects, you cannot be too kind, too
affectionate, too devoted. There is no spiritual reading,
no prayer, which will help you so much to die to your
self as this state of subjection, provided you can find,
in the hours you reserve to yourself, the recollection
that is necessary to teach you how to make a good use
of this kind of slavery, and provided that the distrac
tion of business affairs does not wither up your heart.
In a word, recollect yourself as much as you possibly
can, according to your rule, and afterwards give the
rest of your time to that charity that is never wearied,
that willingly suffers and forgets self, and makes itself
a little child for the sake of others.

55- (86.)
TO THE SAME.
That our natural disposition is not overcome all at once.
I pray God that this new year may bring you a
renewal of grace and of blessing. I am not astonished
that you do not enjoy recollection as you enjoyed it
when you first escaped from a long and painful state of
agitation. Everything gets exhausted in process of
time. A lively natural temperament, which is accus
tomed to action, languishes as soon as it finds itself in
solitude and in a kind of inaction. You were obliged,
for a great number of years, to live in much distraction
and activity as to your exterior circumstances. This is
why I feared for you the dead life of this place in the

126 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
long run. You were at first in the fervour of the
novitiate, when nothing seems hard. You said as
St. Peter said: It is good for us to be here. But we are
told also that St. Peter knew not what he said,(a) and we
are often the same. In moments of fervour we think
we can do all things. In moments of temptation and
discouragement we think we can no longer do anything
and that all is lost. But we deceive ourselves in both
cases. The distraction which you experience must not
astonish you ; you bore the roots of it within yourself,
even when you felt so much ardour for recollection.
Your natural character, and the habits of your past
life, all incline you to activity and eagerness. It was
only because you were wearied and over-burdened,
that you enjoyed an opposite kind of life at first. But
if you are faithful to Divine grace, you will gradually
regain your former attraction for this life of concentra
tion, of which you have only had a passing taste. God
gives that attraction at first to show us where He is
leading us, then He takes it away to make us feel that
this blessing is not our own, that it is not in our power
either to have it or to preserve it, and that it is simply
a gift of grace, which we must ask for in all humility.
Do not be alarmed to find yourself sensitive,
impatient, proud, and positive : that is your natural
character ; it is necessary for you to feel it. We must
bear, as St. Augustine says, the burden of the daily
confusion of our sins. We must feel our weakness,
our misery, our powerlessness to correct ourselves.
We must despair of our own hearts, and hope, only in
God. We must bear with ourselves without flattering
ourselves, and without neglecting to labour for our
correction. And whilst waiting for God to please to
(«) Mark ix. 4, 5.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 127

deliver us from ourselves, we must be undeceived about
ourselves. Let us suffer ourselves to be humbled under
His powerful hand, let us make ourselves pliable and
ready for His guidance, by yielding as soon as we feel
any resistance of our own will. Keep silence as much
as you can. Avoid deciding about things, suspend
your judgments, your tastes and aversions. Stop
yourself at once, and interrupt an action as soon as
you perceive it to be too lively. Do not be carried
away by any of your too ardent inclinations, even if
they are for good. 56. (87.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must keep all our affections for God.
That which I wish for you most of all is a certain
calm, that recollection, detachment, and the love of
God give. When we love anything out of God, says
St. Augustine, we love God the less for it. It is like a
stream, from which part of the water is turned off. This
division of the affections of the heart diminishes that
which should go to God, and it is from such a division
that arise all the disturbances of the heart. God
wishes to have all, and His jealousy will not leave a
divided heart in peace. The least affection outside of
Him complicates our lives, and causes us to feel ill at
ease. It is only in an unreserved love for Him that the
heart deserves to find peace.
Dissipation, which is opposed to recollection,
awakens all our affections for creatures, and so it
drags the soul and tears it away from the true centre
of its rest. Moreover, it excites the senses and the
imagination ; then there is a painful labour to quiet

128 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
them again, and this occupation is also a kind of
inevitable distraction.
Occupy yourself therefore as little as you possibly
can with all that is exterior. Give to the affairs which
Providence lays upon you a certain quiet and moderate
attention, at suitable hours :. leave the rest. We do
much more by a gentle and tranquil' application in the
presence of God, than by the greatest eagerness and '.
all the efforts of restless nature.

57- (880
TO THE SAME.
That we must carry the spirit of prayer into all
that we do.
It only remains for you to turn- your attention to
yourself. Never be discouraged about your faults,
bear with yourself while you are trying to correct
them, as you would bear with and correct your neigh
bour at one and the same time, if you had the care of
him. Give up a certain activity of mind which wears
out your body and makes you commit many faults.
Accustom yourself gradually to extend your prayer
over all the exterior occupations of the day. Speak,
act, work in peace, as if you were in prayer, for
indeed you should be so.
Do everything without eagerness, by the spirit
of grace. As soon as you perceive that your natural
activity is gliding in, enter again quietly within yourself,
where God reigns. Listen to that which the attraction
of grace demands of you, then say only, and do only,
what that attraction inspires your heart with. You
will see that you will be more tranquil for this, that

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. I2g
your words will be shorter and more efficacious for it,
and that while you labour less, you will do many more
useful things. It is not a question of a perpetual
struggle of the head, which would be impracticable ; it
is only a question of accustoming yourself to a certain
peace in which you can easily consult the Beloved
of your soul as to what you ought to do. This con
sultation, very simple and very short, will be made
much more easily with Him, than is the hurried and
tumultuous deliberation which we generally have with
ourselves- when we give way to our natural impetuosity.
When the heart has already a tendency towards
God, we can easily accustom ourselves to suspend the
hasty movements of nature, and wait for the second
moment when we can act through grace by listening
to God. It is the continual death to self which
constitutes the life of faith. This death is a sweet
life, because the grace which gives peace takes the
place of nature, which only brings trouble. Try, I
beg of you, to accustom yourself to this dependence
upon the interior spirit, then by degrees everything
will become prayer. You will still suffer, but a peaceful
suffering is only half a suffering.

58. (89.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must take care of our bodily strength, and
mortify natural activity.
You must pay no attention to your scruples about
the comforts which your community give you. Your
constitution is very delicate, and you are at an
advanced age ; the least illness might break you down.

130 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Do not wait until you are really ill to take care of your
strength. We must try to prevent evils, and not wait
until they are come. In the state you are in it is no
longer allowable to risk anything. Notwithstanding
this little care of yourself, your life will not be a very
self-indulgent one.
As for your mind, mortification must be more
frequently employed. You must mortify your vivacity,
give up your own ideas, restrain your curiosity about
little things, your desires of success, and your anxiety
to draw to yourself that which flatters self-love. To
keep silence, that we may familiarize ourselves with
the presence of God, is the great remedy for all our
evils ; it is the best means of dying every hour in the
most ordinary life.
Profit by this time of repose to calm yourself, to
soften your temper, to increase in charity, to bring
down presumption, to check impetuosity, to preserve
recollection and the thought of the presence of God,
with all the gentleness and ready adaptation that is
necessary in our intercourse with our neighbour — do this,
and you shall live. God has bestowed upon your natural
character a great treasure, by giving it a quality
capable of consuming your self-love by a slow but
continual fire, and thus causing jrou to die every hour
in the day. That which scarcely heats others at all,
inflames you even to the very marrow of your bones.
Nothing disgusts or pleases you by halves. It is good
for you to know this, in order that you may distrust
your inclinations and your repugnances.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 131
59- (90.)
TO THE SAME.
Against eagerness and natural vivacity.
Do not give way to the vivacity of your tastes and
disgusts. Distrust even a certain zeal of fervour, which
might expose you to dangerous mistakes. Never do
anything in a hurry; least of all, in changing your
dwelling-place. Avoid dissipation, without exposing
yourself too much to languor and weariness. Do not
be afraid of solacing your mind by associating with
pious and virtuous friends. Content yourself with the
interior fervour which God gives you, without trying
to force it, to make it more sensible and consoling.
The great point is faithfully to do the will of God, by
dying to ourselves, in spite of all the dryness and
repugnance we may feel in doing so. I pray our Lord
to give you a peace, not of life and food for self-love,
but of death and renunciation, for the love of Him. It
is in Him that I am entirely devoted to you.
60. (91.)
TO THE SAME.
Showing why God permits the diminution of sensible
fervour.
I can never receive news of you without experiencing
a real joy. And I have another joy which will surprise
you, and for which you must forgive me : it is because
I see you are not so much in the state of sensible
fervour, upon which you were relying too much. It
is good to feel how weak we are, and to learn by

132 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
experience that this fervour comes and goes. When
we have it, it is God Who gives it, out of condescension,.
to sustain our weakness. It is the milk for little-
children ; afterwards we must be weaned, and eat the
dry bread of persons of mature age.
If we were always to have this relish and facility
for recollection, without any interruption, we should be
very much tempted to look upon it as our own assured
possession. We should no longer feel our weakness or
our inclination to evil ; we should not have sufficient
distrust of ourselves, and we should not have recourse
to prayer with sufficient humility.
But when this sensible fervour suffers interruptions,
we feel what we have lost ; we recognize from whence
it came ; we are reduced to humble ourselves that we
may find it again in God ; we serve Him with all the
more fidelity, in proportion as we feel less pleasure in
serving Him ; we restrain ourselves, we sacrifice our
inclination ; we no longer proceed by the help of winds
and sails, but by dint of rowing hard against the stream;
we take all upon ourselves, we are in darkness, and have
to content ourselves with pure faith ; we are in sorrow
and bitterness, but we are willing to be so, and it is no
longer through pleasure that we hold fast to God ; we
are ready to receive that relish again, as soon as God
restores it ; we recognize our own weakness, and we
understand that, when God does restore that relish to
us, it is in pity for our weakness : but when He deprives
us of it, we bear the deprivation in peace, and we are
sure that God knows much better than we do what is
necessary for us.
That which depends upon us, and which ought
always to be uniform, is our good- will. This will is
only all the more pure, when it is quite dry and quite
bare, without ever being relaxed.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 133
Be as firm in observing your hours of prayer, as if
you still had the greatest facility therein. Profit even
by any time in the day when you are only half occupied
in exterior things, to occupy yourself interiorly with
God ; for instance, do any needlework you have to do,
in a simple and familiar sense of the presence of God.
It is only in conversation that the practice of this
presence is less easy : nevertheless we can often renew
within ourselves that general thought of God, which
can regulate all our words, and repress all our too
lively flashes of wit, when we are conversing with
creatures, all our touches of pride or contempt, all the
refinements of our self-love. Bear with yourself, but
do not flatter yourself. Labour efficaciously and con
stantly, but peacefully and without the impatience of
self-love, to correct your faults.

61. (92.)
TO THE SAME.
On the usefulness of feeling our weakness in the presence
of death. How we should bear the loss of those we
love.
I hear that your health has been very much out of
order, and I am really alarmed to hear it. You know
that illness is a precious grace which God gives us, to
make us feel the weakness of our soul by that of our
body. We flatter ourselves that we despise this life,
and long after our heavenly country: but when age
and sickness make us see our end much nearer, then
self-love awakens, it pities itself, it is alarmed ; we do
not find in the depths of our heart any desire for the
Kingdom of God ; we only find within ourselves sloth,

134 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
cowardice, lukewarmness, dissipation, and attachment
to all those things from which we thought we were
detached. Such a humiliating experience is often
more useful for us than all the sensible fervours upon
which perhaps we were relying a little too much. The
great point is to give ourselves up to the spirit of grace,
and allow ourselves to be detached from all here below.
Take care of your extremely delicate health ; receive
with simplicity all the comforts which a very wise and
prudent Superioress may give you ; risk nothing in such
a shaken state of health. Recollection, peace, obedience,
the sacrifice of your life, patience in your infirmities,
will be sufficiently great mortifications.
I feel very much for your just grief. You have lost
a most estimable Sister, and one who perfectly merited
all your friendship ; God has taken away from you a
great consolation. It is because He wished to deprive
you of her, through the jealousy of His love. He finds,
even in the most lawful and the purest friendships,
certain secret activities of self-love which He wishes to
cut down in their deepest roots. Let Him do what He
will. Adore this severity, which is only love ; enter
into His designs. Why should we weep for those who
weep no more, and whose tears God has for ever wiped
away ? It is for ourselves that we weep, and we must
suffer humanity to be thus touched with its own grief.
But faith assures us that we shall soon be reunited
to the persons whom our senses represent to us as lost.
Live by faith, without paying attention to flesh and
blood. You will find again the friend who has dis
appeared from your eyes, in our common Centre, which
is the bosom of God. Once more I repeat to you, take
care of your feeble health in this severe trial; calm
your spirit before God ; do not even fear to comfort
your .imagination by the help of some gentle and pious

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 135
society. We must not be ashamed to treat ourselves
like children, when we feel the need of such a treat
ment. 62. (93.)
TO THE SAME.
That we must accustom ourselves to the loss of that
which flatters us, in the matter of sensible fervour
and recollection.
I am not at all surprised to hear that you no longer
find the same recollection which was so easy to you
and so usual with you last year. God wishes to
accustom you to a fidelity that is less sweet, and
more painful to nature. If such facility in recollecting
yourself were always equal, it would give you a support
that would be too sensible, and as it were, natural : in
such a state you would experience no interior cross
and no weakness. It is necessary for you to feel your
misery, and the humiliation that ensues will be more
useful to you, if you bear it patiently, without being
discouraged, than the most consoling fervour.
It is true that we must never give up prayer. You
must bear the loss of that which it pleases God to take
away from you ; but you may not yourself take anything
away from yourself, nor are you allowed to let anything
be lost through your voluntary negligence.
Continue then to make your prayer ; but make it in
the simplest and freest manner, so that you may not
break your head over it. Make use of all that can
renew in you the sense of the presence of God, without
any uneasy effort. During the course of the day, avoid
everything that might distract you, or attach you, or
excite your vivacity. Calm yourself as much as you

136 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
can on every occasion, and pass by all that is not the
affair of the present moment. Sufficient for the day is the
evil thereof. (f) Bear your dryness and your involuntary
distractions as your principal cross.
You may try a little retreat ; but do not carry it too
far, and comfort your imagination, according to your
needs, by such innocent things as are compatible with
the presence of God. 63- (940
TO THE SAME.
Advice for the interior and exterior, when we are in
desolation.
Oh, how good it is to see only the friends whom
God gives us, and to be sheltered from all the rest !
As for me, I often feel inclined, in the midst of my
difficulties, to sigh after that liberty which solitude
brings ; but we must stay in the path marked out for
us, and go on our way, without listening to our own
inclination. Avoid weariness, and give some satis
faction to 3'our natural activity. See a certain number
of persons, whose society is not disagreeable to you,
and who can refresh your mind when there is need of
it. We do not need a great deal of society, and we
must accustom ourselves not to be too particular. It
is sufficient if we find some good people who are quiet
and a little reasonable. You may read, do some
needlework, walk out when the weather is fine, and
vary your occupations so that you may not be fatigued
with any one of them.
With regard to your feelings of tepidity and your
want of attraction for the interior life, I am not at all
{") Matt. vi. 34.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 137
surprised that such a trial should cast you down.
Nothing can be more disheartening. You have only
two things to do, it seems to me : one is, to avoid all
that distracts you or that absorbs you ; by doing this,
you will cut off the source of everything that can be
a dangerous distraction, and can dry up your prayer.
We must not expect to be nourished within, when we
are always taken up with external things. Fidelity in
renouncing things that make you too lively and too
unreserved in conversation, is absolutely necessary to
draw down upon yourself the spirit of recollection and
prayer. We cannot enjoy God and the world at the
same time ; we take to our prayer, and keep to the end
of the two hours, the same disposition that we have in
our hearts during the rest of the day.
Then, after having cut off the superfluous things
that distract you, you must try frequently to renew
your sense of the presence of God, even in the midst
of the things which are of obligation and necessity for
you, in order that you may not throw into them too
much of your purely natural action. You must try to
act always by grace, and in a spirit of death to self.
We can gradually arrive at this by often suspending
the quickness of a lively temperament, to listen to the
voice of God within the soul, and to let Him take
possession of us. 64- (950
TO THE SAME.
On the means of preserving peace with others.
It is a very long time since I renewed to you the
assurances of my affection for you in our Lord : it is,
nevertheless, greater than ever. I wish with all my

I38 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
heart that you may always find in your community the
peace and consolation which you enjoyed there in the
beginning. To be really pleased even with the best
persons, we must be satisfied with little, and we must
bear with much. The most perfect people have many
imperfections ; we also have imperfections, and great
ones. Our faults, joined to theirs, make our bearing
with each other very difficult ; but bear ye one another's
burdens, and so you shall fulfil the law of Christ. (f) We
must make a charitable compensation in this matter.
Frequent silence, habitual recollection, prayer, detach
ment from ourselves, renunciation of all the curiosities
of criticism, fidelity in abandoning all the vain reflec
tions of a jealous and fastidious self-love, all these
things tend very much to preserve peace and union.
Oh, how much trouble we spare ourselves by this
simplicity ! Happy is he who pays no attention to'
self-love, and who pays no attention either to the
criticisms of others !
Content yourself with leading a simple life according
to your state. For the rest, obey, and bear your little
daily crosses : you have need of them, and God only
gives them to you out of pure mercy. The great thing
Is to despise yourself sincerely, and to consent to be
despised, if God permits it. Nourish yourself with
Him only. St. Augustine says that his mother only
lived by prayer : do you live by prayer, and die to all
the rest. We can only live to God by a continual
death to self. (") Gal. ii. 6.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 139

65. (96.)
TO THE SAME.
On the painful impression that we feel at the thought of
death.
I am not at all surprised to hear that the impression
of death is more vivid with you, as age and infirmities
bring it nearer to you. I feel the same thing myself.
There comes an age when the thought of death puts
itself forward and forces itself upon our consideration
much oftener and much more strongly. Moreover,
there comes a time of retirement in which we have
fewer distractions with regard to this great subject.
God even makes use of this severe trial to undeceive
us about our courage, to make us feel our weakness,
and to keep us very humble in His hands.
Nothing is more humiliating than a troubled
imagination, in which we can no longer find our former
trust in God. It is the crucible of humiliation, in
which our heart is purified by the conviction of its
weakness and unworthiness. The Holy Spirit says:
In Thy sight no man living shall be justified. (a) And it is
also written that the heavens are not pure in the sight
of our Judge. (e) It is certain that in many things we all
off end. {p) We see our faults, and we do not see our
virtues. It would even be very dangerous for us to
see them, if they are real.
That which we have to do is to walk always
uprightly and without relaxation, in the midst of this
trouble, just as we tried to walk in the ways of God
before it came upon us. If this trouble shows us
something in ourselves that needs correction, we must
(«) Ps. cxlii. 2. (£) Job xv. 15. (•') James hi. 2.

I40 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
be faithful to this light in the first place, but we must
do so under the guidance of a good adviser, that we
may not fall into scruples. Afterwards we must remain
in peace, and pay no attention to self-love which tries
to make us pity ourselves very much at the thought of
our death; we must detach ourselves from our life,
make a sacrifice of it to God, and abandon ourselves
to Him with confidence. When they asked of
St. Ambrose, while he was dying, if he was not troubled
with fear of the judgments of God, he replied : We have
a good master. This is the answer which we must give
to ourselves. It is necessary for us to die in an
impenetrable uncertainty, not only about the judgments
of God upon us, but also about our own dispositions.
As St. Augustine says, we must be reduced so low,
that we can only offer to God our misery and His mercy.
Our misery is the proper object for His mercy, and
His mercy is our only claim. While you are in this
state of sadness, read all that can encourage your
confidence and console your heart. How good is God to
Israel, to them that are of a right heart ! (a) Ask of Him
that uprightness of heart which pleases Him so much,
and makes Him so compassionate to our weakness.

66. (97O
TO THE SAME.
That we must abandon ourselves to God, obey, keep
silence, and suffer.
We must detach ourselves from this life. It is by
suffering and sickness that we make our apprenticeship
for death. Let us sacrifice to God with a good heart
(") Ps. lxxii. 1.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 141
a life that is short, and fragile, and full of miseries ; we
gain merit in the sight of God by renouncing that
which is only worthy of contempt. Let your Superioress
and your community do as they please, when they take
care of you and try to preserve you. Simplicity
consists in allowing our Superiors to decide in every
thing concerning us, in obeying them implicitly after
having told them our own ideas, in acting whilst
obeying as we should wish others to act, and in paying
no more attention to our own opinion, after we have
said what we thought was right.
Remain peacefully in your solitude, without listening
to the present disputes. Confine yourself to obeying
the Church without reasoning. We are happy when
we really wish to be poor in spirit ; this interior poverty
ought to be our only treasure. Even the most learned
cease to know anything, from the moment that they
cease to be like little children in the arms of their
mother. Speak to God about the peace of the Church,
and do not speak to men. A humble and docile silence
will be your strength. Bear your cross of infirmity
patiently. This is your present vocation : to be silent,
to obey, to suffer, to abandon yourself to God for life
or death ; this is your daily bread. It is hard and dry
bread ; but it is better for you than any other substance,
and very nourishing for the life of faith, which consists
in the continual death of self-love.

142 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

67- (98.)
TO THE SAME.
On the value of exercises of piety, performed without
relish and with difficulty, for the pure love of Gpd.
I have remarked that you were relying a little too
much on your recollection and fervour. God has
taken away those sensible gifts to detach you from
them, to teach you how weak you are of yourself, and
to accustom you to serve God without that relish
which makes virtue easy. We do very much more
for Him, when we do the same things without pleasure
and with repugnance. I do very little for my friend,
when I go to see him, walking on foot, because I love
walking, have excellent legs, and take a very great
pleasure in using them, but if I become gouty, then
every step that I take costs me a great deal of
pain, then the same visits that I formerly made to my
friend, and which he did not think much of, begin
to have a new value, they become the signs of a
very deep and a very strong friendship, and the more
pain I have in making them, the more he ought to
be pleased with me for doing so. One step taken in
that pain is more meritorious than a hundred steps
formerly. I do not say this to flatter you and to fill
you with vain confidence. God forbid ! It is only to
prevent you from falling into a very dangerous tempta
tion, which is that of discouragement and trouble.
When you are enjoying the abundance of grace and
interior fervour, then count all your good works as
nothing, because they flow, so to speak, from the very
source. But, on the contrary, when you feel yourself
to be in dryness, obscurity, poverty, and almost power-

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 143
lessness of soul, remain humble under the hand of God
in a state of bare faith, recognize your own misery, turn
yourself toward the all-powerful Love, and never doubt
His assistance. Oh, how good it is for us to see
ourselves despoiled of all those sensible supports
which flatter self-love, and reduced to confess the
truth of those words of Holy Scripture, In Thy sight no
man living shall be justified, (a)
Walk on always, in the name of God, although it
may seem to you that you have neither strength nor
courage to put one foot before the other. If human
courage fails you, so much the better. If you abandon
yourself to God, He will not fail to help your power-
lessness. St. Paul exclaims : When I am weak, then am
I powerful. (e) And when he prayed to be delivered
from his weakness, God answered him : Power is made
perfect in infirmity. Suffer yourself then to be made
perfect by the experience of your imperfection, and
by a humble recourse to Him Who is the Strength of
the weak.
When you are in prayer, occupy yourself, with a
simple liberty, with all that can help you to pray,
and that will increase recollection within you. Do
not constrain yourself. Ease your imagination, which
is sometimes impatient, and sometimes exhausted:
make use of all that can calm it and help you to
a familiar intercourse with God. All that is to your
taste and according to your needs, in this loving inter
course, will be good. Where the spirit of the Lord is, there
is liberty. (?) This pure and simple liberty consists in
artlessly seeking in prayer for the nourishment of love
that can most easily unite us with the Beloved of our
soul. Your interior poverty will often recall you to
the feeling of your misery. God, Who is so good,
(") Ps. cxlii. 2. (e) 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10. (¦') 2 Cor. iii. 17.

I44 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
will not suffer you to lose sight of how unworthy you
are of Him, and the thought of your un worthiness will
bring you back at once to His infinite goodness. Take
courage ! The work of God can only be done by the
destruction of ourselves. I beg of Him to sustain you,.
to comfort .you, to make you poor, and help you to
experience the truth of that amiable saying : Blessed
are the poor hi spirit. (f)
68. (99O
TO THE SAME.
What we must do when we find ourselves in peace.
I am delighted to hear that you are so pleased with
your retreat, and that God is giving you as much peace
within as without. I pray of Him Who has begun
this good work within you that He will finish the same
unto the coming of Jesus Christ. It only remains for
you to profit by this time, which is flowing by with so
much peace, to recollect yourself. You must sing in
your heart that amen and that alleluia, with which the
Heavenly Jerusalem resounds. This consists in a
continual acquiescence of your will with the will of
God, and an unreserved sacrifice of your will, that you
may do His only.
At the same time you must listen for the voice of
God in your soul, with a heart that is disengaged from
all the flattering prejudices of self-love, that you may
faithfully receive His light as to the least thing that
needs correction in you. When God shows us that
which ought to be corrected, we must yield at once
without reasoning or excusing ourselves, and we must
give up, whatever it may cost us, all that wounds the
{") Matt. v. 3.

TO A YOUNG LADY LIVING IN THE WORLD. 145
holy jealousy of our Divine Spouse. When we thus
give ourselves up to the spirit of grace to die to
ourselves, we discover imperfections even in our best
works, and we find in ourselves an inexhaustible mine
of refined faults.
Then, with a horror of ourselves, we say that God
alone is good. We labour to correct ourselves in a way
that is simple and peaceful, but also continual, equable,
efficacious, and so much the stronger because our whole
heart is in it, without division and without agitation.
We rely upon ourselves in nothing, and we hope in
God alone, but we do not flatter ourselves, nor do we
ever give way to laxity. We know that God will never
fail us, and that we continually need His help. We
do not wait for grace, we know that grace is the first
in the field, and is ever awaiting us : we follow it, we
give ourselves up to it ; we have but one fear, that of
resisting it, as we go on our way simply, in the path
of the evangelical virtues. We condemn ourselves
without being discouraged ; we bear with ourselves
while we are working at our own correction.
As regards your health, you must take great care of
it : it has always been ver3T weak, and must necessarily
be more so now than ever. When we reach a certain
age, we should let our body alone ; we need only
humble our spirit. 69. (100.)
TO THE SAME.
How we ought to bear the thought of death, when the
weakness of old age shows us that it is coming near us.
I can easily understand that age and infirmities
make you look upon death at close quarters and much
K **

146 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
more seriously than you used to do, when it seemed far
off from you. A distant and confused view of it, such
as one has in the world, at certain moments only, is
only like a dream : but our view brings the object
much nearer and makes us realize it with sadness,
when we contemplate it often, in solitude, and in the
actual decline of old age. It costs us almost nothing
to resign ourselves to death, when we look at it from
afar off and for a passing moment ; but to resign our
selves to it, when it is very near and when our regard
is fixed upon it, this is a great sacrifice.
We must will our destruction, in spite of the
rebellion of nature, and of the horror she makes us
feel. The late Monsieur Olier used to take hold of his
own hand during the last days of his life, and say to
it : " Body of sin, thou shalt soon decay. O eternity,
how near thou art to me ! "
It is not at all a question of feeling joy at the
thought of dying ; this sensible joy is not in our own
power. How many great saints have been deprived of
this joy! Let us content ourselves with that which
depends upon our free-will prevented by Divine grace.
This is, not to listen to the voice of nature, and to
will with our whole will that which we have not been
given the grace to relish. Nature may reject a chalice
so bitter ; but the interior man will say with Jesus
Christ : Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt.if)
St. Francis de Sales distinguishes between the consent
of the will and mere feeling. We are not the masters
of our sensations or our feelings, but we are the masters of
our consent, by means of the grace of God.
Wait for death then, without occupying yourself
with the thought of it in such a manner as to depress
your body and weaken your health. We are preparing
(°) Matt. xxvi. 39.

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. I47
for death enough, when we are trying to detach our
selves from all things ; when we humble ourselves
quietly for our smallest faults, with the desire of cor
recting them ; when we walk always in the presence
of God ; when we are simple, obedient, and patient in
our infirmity ; when we give ourselves up to the spirit
of grace, and act only in dependence upon it ; finally,
when we endeavour to die to self on every occasion,
before our bodily death comes. Make use of your faults
to put yourself to shame ; bear with your neighbour :
forget the forgetfulness of men ; the One faithful
Friend, the Spouse of your heart, will never forget
you.

LETTERS TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY, LIVING
IN THE WORLD.
70. (101.)
That the pains we take with our souls ought to be applied
more to the interior than the exterior. That our
prayer ought to extend to all we do.
You are good. You wish to be still more so, and
you take a great deal upon yourself in the details
of your life : but I fear that you are encroaching a
little too much upon that which is within, by labouring
too much to accommodate that which is without to
all the requirements of decorum; and that you are
not sufficiently mortifying that which is most deeply
rooted in you. When we do not efficaciously attack
a certain secret depth of attachment to our own
opinion and our own will with regard to the things
we love most, and which we most jealously reserve
for ourselves, I will tell you what happens. On the

I48 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
one hand, the vivacity, the violence, and the rigidity
of our self-will are very great ; on the other hand,
we have a scrupulously exact idea about a certain
symmetry of exterior virtue, which degenerates into a
mere regularity of decorum. In this way, the exterior
becomes a great constraint for us, and the interior
grows very keen and lively in its repugnances. It is
an unbearable conflict.
Take then the work in hand, less from without,
and a little more from within. Choose the most
lively affections which reign in your heart, and place
them, without conditions and without a limit, in the
hands of God, and suffer Him to deaden and extinguish
them. Abandon to Him your natural pride, your
worldly wisdom, your attachment to the splendour
of your family, your fear of coming down in the
world, or of not meeting with consideration in it,
your bitter severity against everything that is irregular.
Your bad temper is what I have the least fear of for
you. You know of it, you are on your guard against
it ; in spite of all your resolutions, it carries you away,
and by so doing, it humbles you. It is useful in
correcting you of other much more dangerous faults.
I should be less sorry to see you grumbling, in a bad
temper, rude, losing the mastery over yourself, and
afterwards, very much out of conceit with yourself
from such an experience, than to see you quite properly
behaved in every respect and blameless on all sides,
but, at the same time, fastidious, proud, austere,
unbending, quick to take scandal, and great in your
own opinion.
Place your true resource in prayer. A certain
labour of human courage and of taste for a starched
regularity will never correct you. But accustom your
self before God, through the experience of your incurable

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. I4g

weaknesses, to the practice of condescension and com
passion and bearing with the imperfections of others.
Prayer, provided it is of the right kind, will soften your
heart, and will make it simple, pliable, tractable, easy
of access, accommodating. Would you like God to be
as critical and as severe with you, as you often are with
your neighbour ?
We are severe with ourselves about exterior
actions, and yet we are very lax about our interior.
While we are so jealous on the subject of this
superficial arrangement of exterior virtues, we have
no scruple about letting our soul grow weak, and
secretly resisting the voice of God. We fear God more
than we love Him. We wish to pay Him by our
actions, and then we think we shall be quit of Him ;
instead of giving Him everything out of pure love,
without making any bargain with Him. He who gives
all without reserve, has no need to make terms. We
allow ourselves certain disguised attachments to our
own greatness, or our reputation, or our ease and
comfort. If we were to look well into how things
stand between God and ourselves, we should find that
we are keeping back something which we do not think
it is necessary to sacrifice to Him. We go round and
round these things ; we do not even wish to see them,
for fear we may have to reproach ourselves with
cleaving to them. We spare them as the apple of our
eye, under the finest pretences. If any one were to
force this retrenchment of ours, he would wound us to
the quick, and we should exhaust ourselves in beautiful
reasons for the justification of our attachments : a con
vincing proof that we are nourishing a secret life in
this kind of affection. The more we fear renunciation
here, the more certain we may be that it is necessary.
If we did not hold very much to this thing, we should

150 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
not try so hard to persuade ourselves that we do not
hold to it at all.
There must be some miseries of this kind in us,
which hinder the work of God. We do nothing but
languish in the thought of ourselves, and never occupy
ourselves with respect to God except for our own
advantage. We make no progress in dying to self, in
humility of spirit, and in simplicity. Whence comes it
that the vessel does not sail ? is it that the wind is
wanting ? Not at all ; the breeze of the spirit of grace
never ceases to blow : but the ship is kept back by
anchors that we take no care to see ; they are at the
bottom of the sea. The fault is not on God's side ; it
is on ours. We have only to search well, and we
shall find the secret bonds that are keeping us back.
The place where we distrust ourselves least, is precisely
the place where we ought to distrust ourselves most.
Do not let us make a bargain with God, in order
that our dealings with Him may not cost us too much,
and that He may give us many consolations in
return. Let us only seek the cross and death and
destruction. Let us love, and let us live no longer
except by love. Let love do all that it may wish to do
against self-love. Let us not be satisfied with making
our prayer morning and evening, but let us live in
prayer through the whole day; and as we digest our
food all day long, let us also digest all day long, during
our other occupations, the bread of truth and love
which we have eaten in prayer. Let this prayer, or
rather this life of love, which is the death of self,
extend from prayer, as from a centre, to all that we
have to do. Everything ought to become prayer, or
a loving sense of the presence of God, in our business
and conversation. It is there, madam, that you will
find that which will give you a deep peace.

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 151
71. (102.)
On detachment from the world. [1714O
I am in the wrong, madam, since you are certain
that you did me the honour to write to me ; I am
charmed to be put to confusion, and to see your
kindness. But the state of your health troubles my
joy a little : God grant that the air of the country, a
few walks and drives, and a real rest of mind may
perfectly restore you !
As for me, I am nothing more than a skeleton
that walks and speaks, but sleeps and eats little ;
my occupations are too many for me, and I never go
to bed without leaving several of my duties undone.
A vast diocese is an overwhelming burden at sixty-
three years of age. I have a great deal too much to
do, and you perhaps have not enough to save you
from weariness ; but wisdom consists in knowing how
to amuse one's self. Try to deceive yourself, madam ;
invent occupations which will revive you. The days are
long, although the years are short ; we must shorten the
days by treating ourselves like little children ; such a
child-like spirit is a profound wisdom.
Remember that you could not do in the most
brilliant society anything more useful than you are
doing in the languor and obscurity of your solitude ;
you would hear a great deal of corrupt conversation ;
you would see many importunate and contemptible
persons with distinguished names ; you would be
surrounded by snares and infectious examples ; you
would feel the arrows of a most malignant envy ;
you would experience your own weakness ; you
would have many faults to reproach yourself with.

152 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
It is true that you would seem to have a greater
abundance ; but you would only have a very dangerous
superfluity : vanity would lead you to spend it, and
might make you even more disordered and embarrassed
as to your income than you are at present ; you would
think seriously neither of God, nor of yourself, nor of
death, nor of your salvation; you would be like others
are, intoxicated, bewitched, hardened. Is it not far
better to remain a little sadly far from the world, in
the hands of God, Who will cause you to enjoy the
hopes which religion gives, and will detach you from
the false goods of which He deprives you ?
In truth, madam, I am giving you with all my
heart the advice which I give to myself. The world
can bring us nothing but vain pleasures. Besides,
it is full of thorns, of troubles, and of cowardly,
deceitful, and hateful practices ; we must be very
much spoiled, since we have so much difficulty in
remaining far from evil. I have seen here, for three
or four years, the army and a great part of the Court.
And although I have a thousand reasons to praise their
courtesy to me, I feel infinitely relieved at seeing them
no longer. As for expenses, I should think myself rich,
if I had but to think of spending two thousand francs
each year, as I did in my youth. Shake off the yoke
of superfluity ; make yourself rich without money ; you
are dispensed from all, and happy in despising all that
is wanting to you for the love of God.
I shall take the liberty of sending you my new
work,1 for the reading of your Father Rector. I love
and revere him, because he enters into your sorrows.
Nothing can equal my zeal, my devotion, and respect
for you.
1 A Pastoral Instruction in the form of Dialogues, on the subject of
Jansenism.

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 153
72. (103.)
That we must unite exactitude with liberty of spirit.
It seems to me necessary that you should unite a
great exactitude to a great liberty. Exactitude will
make you faithful, and liberty will make you courageous.
If you were to attempt to be exact without being free,
you would fall into slavery and scruples : and if you
were to attempt to be free without being exact, you
would soon degenerate into negligence and relaxation.
Exactitude by itself narrows the mind and heart, and
liberty by itself extends them too much.
Those who have no experience in the ways of
God, do not believe that these two virtues can agree
together. They understand by being exact, living
always under constraint, in distress of mind, in an
uneasy and scrupulous timidity which robs the soul
of all her rest, which makes her see sins every
where, and straitens her so much, that she is in
constant contention with herself about everything
down to the merest trifles, and scarcely dares to
breathe. They call being free, to have a wide conscience,
and not to pay too close an attention even to that, to
be satisfied with avoiding considerable faults, and to
count as considerable faults only gross crimes ; with
these only excepted, to allow one's self everything that
can artfully flatter self-love ; and whatever license we
may give to our passions, to calm and console ourselves
easily, by the simple thought that we did not see any
great evil in such things. It was not thus that St. Paul'
considered things, when he said to those whom he had
brought into the life of grace, and of whom he was
trying to make perfect Christians: Be free, but with

154 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
the liberty which Jesus Christ has purchased for you ;
be free, because the Saviour has called you to freedom :
but do not let this liberty be for you an occasion or a
pretext for doing evil.(a)
It seems to me then that true exactitude consists in
obeying God in all things, and in following the light
which shows us our duty, and the grace which urges
us to do it ; having for the principle of our conduct the
desire of pleasing God in all things, and of doing
always, not only that which is agreeable to Him, but,
if possible, that which is most agreeable to Him, without
amusing ourselves with quibbling about the difference
between great sins and little sins, and imperfections
and infidelities : for, although it is true that there is a
difference between all these things, there ought, never
theless, to be no such distinction any longer for a soul
that is determined to refuse nothing to God of all that
she is able to give Him. And it is in this sense that the
Apostle says, that the law is not made for the just man.{e)
The constraining law, the hard law, the threatening
law ; if we may dare to say so, the tyrannical and
enslaving law. But the just man has a superior law
which raises him above all that, and which makes him
enter into the true liberty of the children of God ; that
is, always to wish to do that which is most pleasing to
his Heavenly Father, according to those excellent words
of St. Augustine : " Love, and then do what you will."
For, if to this sincere will of doing always that which
seems best to us in the sight of God, we unite the
farther intention of doing it with joy, of never allowing
ourselves to be discouraged when we have not done it,
of beginning over and over again, hundreds of times,
to do it better, of hoping always that in the end we
shall do it, of bearing with ourselves in our involuntary
(«) Gal. v. 13. (') 1 Tim. i. 9.

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 155
weaknesses as God bears with us, of waiting in patience
for the moment that He has marked out for our perfect
deliverance, of making up our mind meanwhile to walk
on with simplicity, and according to our strength, in
the way that is open to us, and not to lose our time in
looking behind us ; of extending our energies and setting
our faces steadily always, as the Apostle says, to the
things which are before ; (<*) of not making a multitude of
useless reflections upon our falls, which would only
keep us back, trouble our minds, and cast down our
heart ; of humbling ourselves for them and grieving
over them when we first see them, but afterwards
leaving them there and going on our way ; of not
interpreting everything against ourselves with a literal
and Jewish severity ; of not looking upon God as a spy
Who is watching us that He may surprise us, or as an
enemy Who is la3'ing snares for us, but rather as a
Father Who loves us and wishes to save us ; if we
persevere in these intentions, and are full of confidence
in His goodness, careful to invoke His mercy, and
perfectly undeceived of all our vain reliance upon
creatures, and upon ourselves ; if we do all this, we
shall have found the way, and perhaps the fixed
dwelling-place of true and perfect liberty.
I advise you, as strongly as I can, to aspire to
this. Exactitude and libert3' ought to walk together,
with an equal step ; and in you, if there is one of
the two that drags behind the other, it is, I think,
liberty, although I must confess that your exactitude
also is not as yet such as I could desire : but indeed
I think you have more need to lean to the side of
confidence in God, and a great expansion of heart.
It is for this reason that I do not hesitate in telling
you that you must give yourself up entirely to the
{") Philip, iii. 13.

156 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
grace which God gives you sometimes of a somewhat
close union with Himself. Do not fear, at such
times, to lose sight of yourself, to contemplate Him
alone and as closely as He will allow you to do so, to
plunge yourself entirely in the ocean of His love : too
happy you, if you could do it so perfectly, as never
to find yourself again. It is good, nevertheless, when
God gives you this grace, to finish always, when the
thought of doing so shall come to you, by an act of
humility and of filial and respectful fear, which will
prepare your soul for new gifts. This is the advice of
St. Teresa, and I think I may give it to you.

73- (104.)
That prayer is good for everything, and our own spirit
exactly the contrary. That we must persevere in the
way of perfection.
You will never so well watch over M  as when
you are faithful to prayer. Our own spirit, however
solid it may appear, spoils everything ; it is the Spirit
of God which insensibly brings the most difficult things
to their conclusion. The difficulties of life overwhelm
us ; crosses weigh us down ; we fail in patience and
gentleness, or in a gracious and equable firmness ; we
cannot succeed in persuading others. It is only God
Who holds all hearts in His hand ; He supports our
heart, and He opens the heart of our neighbour. Pray
then, but pray often and with all your heart, if you
wish to guide your flock aright. Unless the Lord keep
the city, he that keepeth it watcheth in vain.if) We can
only draw the good Spirit to ourselves by prayer. The
(") Ps. cxxvi. 1.

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 157
time which seems lost there, is the most usefully
employed. By making yourself dependent upon the
spirit of grace, you will labour much more effectually
for your exterior duties, than by all your uneasy and
anxious efforts. If your food is to do the will of your
Father in Heaven, you will often feed yourself by
drawing from this will at its source.
As to when you should make your prayer, you can
make it at various times during the day, because you
have a great deal of free time, and you can often keep
silence. You must only take care not to make your
prayer with such intense application of mind, as to tire
your head.
I thank God that you are weary of 3'our own spirit.
Nothing is more fatiguing than this false support.
Woe to him who trusts in it ! Happy is he who is
tired of it, and who seeks his true rest in the spirit of
recollection and of self-renunciation !
If you return to a life that is but good according to
the world's idea of goodness, after having once tasted the
sweetness of God in retirement, you will fall very low,
and you will deserve to do so, by a relaxation so
faithless to Divine grace. I hope that such a misfortune
will not happen to you. God loves you very much,
since He will not leave you a moment of peace in that
divided state between Him and the world. God
demands perfection from us all, and He prepares us
for it by the attraction of His grace ; this is why Jesus
Christ said to His disciples : Be you perfect as your
Heavenly Father is perfect. (a) And it was for this that
He taught us the prayer: Thy will be done on earth
as it is in Heaven. (e) All are invited to this perfection
on earth ; but the greater part are frightened and draw
back. Do not be of the number of those who, after
(<•) Matt. v. 48. (') Matt. vi. 10.

158 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
having eaten the manna of the desert, regret the
onions of Egypt. It is only perseverance that is
crowned. 74- (IO50
That we must bear with the faults of others, and easily
suffer ourselves to be reproved.
It seems to me that you have need to enlarge your
heart, with regard to the faults of others. I agree that
you cannot either prevent yourself from seeing them
when they are plainly before your eyes, or avoid the
thoughts which come to you about the principles upon
which certain people seem to act. You cannot even
escape a certain pain which these things give you. It
is sufficient if 3'ou are willing to bear with their decided
defects, if you form no judgment upon those that are
doubtful, and if you do not give way to the pain which
might make you keep away from such persons. Perfec
tion easily bears with the imperfections of others ; it
makes itself all things to all men. We must familiarize
ourselves with the most palpable defects in good souls,
and leave them quietly alone, until God gives us the
signal to try and root them up gradually ; otherwise we
might tear up the good grain with the bad. God
leaves in the most advanced souls certain weaknesses
which are quite out of proportion with their eminent
state, just as people leave piers of earth that are called
witnesses in tracts of land whose level has been lowered,
to show, by these remains, how deep has been the work
of the hand of man. God leaves also in the greatest
souls these witnesses or remains of the misery He has
taken away.
It is necessary that these persons should labour,
each according to his degree, in the work of their

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 159
correction, and that you also should work with them,
by bearing with their weaknesses. You ought to under
stand, by your own experience in such matters, that
correction is very bitter ; since you have felt the
bitterness of it, remember that you must try and soften
it for others. You are free from the kind of zeal that
is over eager for correction, but you have a sensitive
ness which closes up your heart.
I ask of you more earnestly than ever that you will
never spare me, on the subject of my faults. Even if
you thought you saw a fault in me which perhaps I
have not got, that would not be a great misfortune.
If your advice wounds me, my sensitiveness will show
me that you have touched the quick ; thus, you will
always have done me a great favour by exercising me
in humility, and accustoming me to be reproved. I
ought to be more humbled than any one else, in pro
portion as my position is more exalted, and because
God, for this very reason, requires of me a more
complete death to all things. I have need of such
simplicity, and I hope that it will increase our union,
instead of damaging it.

75. (106.)
Exhortations to condescension towards the faults and
imperfections of others.
I have always had for you a very great attachment
and constant friendship ; but my heart melted when I
heard that you had been blamed, and that you received
the reproof with humility. It is true that your
melancholy and severe temperament makes you pay a
too rigorous attention to the faults of others ; you are
too much shocked at their imperfections, and you are

l60 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
tried and a little impatient when you do not see imperfect
people corrected. For a long time I have desired for
you that spirit of condescension and helpfulness with
which N. M. proportions herself to the weakness of
every one. She waits, she pities, she opens her heart,
and expects advance in souls only in proportion as God
disposes them for it.
There are certain exterior faults, from which we
must be very careful not to judge of a person's interior ;
that would show a great want of experience. I told
you some time ago that M  , with all her visible
imperfections, was much more advanced than those
who were exempt from such defects, and who wished to
correct them in her. Often a certain vivacity of correc
tion, even self- correction, is only an activity which is
no longer seasonable for those whom God is leading by
another way, and whom He sometimes wishes to leave
in a powerlessness to overcome these imperfections,
that so all their interior support may be taken away.
The correction of a few involuntary defects would be
for them a death far less deep and advanced than the
death that comes to them when they feel overwhelmed
by their miseries ; provided always that they are really,
and without delusion, undeceived about themselves,
and stripped of themselves by this experience and their
resignation to it. Everything has its proper time.
Interior power over our own faults nourishes a secret
life of self-appropriation.
Bear with your neighbour then, and get accustomed
to our common miseries. Sometimes your heart is
afflicted when certain faults shock you, and you might
imagine it came from a repugnance of soul produced
by Divine grace ; but it may easily be that it is only
your natural vivacity that is wringing your heart.
I think you have need of greater patience and for-

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. l6l
bearance ; but I think also that you must correct your
own faults as you do those of others, not by great
efforts and severity, but by giving yourself up simply
to God, and letting Him do as He will, so that He
may enlarge your heart and make it more pliable.
Acquiesce in His will, without knowing how He is
going to bring it all about. 76. (107.)
That hearts united in God are always together, although
distance of place may separate them.
I am always united to you and to your dear family
in the depth of my heart ; do not doubt of it. We are
very near to one another without seeing each other,
whilst people who see each other every hour are often
very far from one another, though they may be in the
same room. God unites all, and annihilates the greatest
distances, with regard to the hearts that are united in
Him. It is in this Divine Centre that a man in China
can be close to another in Peru. It is not that I do
not feel the deprivation of seeing you no longer, but I
must bear it in peace as long as God pleases, and even
unto death, if such is His will.
Restrict yourself to your real duties. For the rest,
be retired and recollected, diligent in regulating your
affairs well, and patient under domestic crosses. As
for madam, I pray God that she may never look back,
and may always go on advancing in the most straight
path. I hope our Lord will bless your whole household,
and that it may be His own.

l62 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

77. (108.)
How the infidelities of one person grieve the Spirit of God
in the soul of another person whom the same grace
unites to the unfaithful one.
I understand quite well what you tell me about the
grief of N  for your faults, which seems to you too
strong and too lasting ; but it is not for you to judge
if this grief goes too far. When a man, who, like
you, has belonged for a long time to God, from Whom
he has received grace enough to sanctify a hundred
sinners — when such a man falls into certain infidelities,
he must not be astonished if the spirit of grace is deeply
grieved, and grieved for a long time, in the soul of a
person united closely to Him by the same grace.
You are annoyed that God should make your
neighbour suffer for you ; it is because of the penance
which you ought to do, and which you do not do, and
which N  is doing in her heart for you, that you are
vexed with her. On the contrary, this is what ought to
soften you, and redouble your confidence, your sub
mission, your docility. Perhaps even you have need
of this sad, and deep, and long sorrow of hers, to make
you feel all your infidelity and all the danger in which
you are. This slight severity is necessary for you, to
counter-balance your frivolity ; in your weakness you
have need of being restrained by fear.
I beg of her, nevertheless, to proportion her sadness
to your extreme sensitiveness. I do not ask of her
to suppress it by great efforts or by ingenuity, that
you may be spared and your self-love flattered and
encouraged in your faults. God forbid ! I only ask
of her to act solely under the influence of grace,

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 163
following the promptings of her inmost heart, that she
may not grieve over your infidelities through a merely
natural sorrow. You give me an inconceivable joy by
telling me of the advance in perfection that you see in
her. The more advanced she is, the more you ought
to believe all she tells you, and the more 3'ou ought to
look upon all her sorrows on your account as impres
sions of Divine grace which she receives for your
benefit. And while she is advancing, you are going back.
O my dear friend ! if I could only see you, I would
not suffer your self-love to breathe ; I would not let you
escape in anything ; I would humble you in spite of
yourself. It is only humility which is the resource
of the weak. A little child cannot walk, but he allows
himself to be turned and turned over again, to be
carried, to be wrapped in swaddling-clothes. As for a
full-grown man who is weak, and who thinks himself
strong, he falls at the first step he takes ; he has
neither the strength to guide himself, nor the docility
to allow himself to be guided by others. As soon as
3'ou feel a repugnance to disclosing the state of your
soul, and to believing what she tells you, you may be
sure that temptation is drawing you towards the
precipice. 78. (109.)
That the union of soids ought to be an association, not
for life, but for death, as regards the exterior as well
as the interior.
Your letter, sir, has given me a very sensible
consolation. Blessed be God, Who has given you
a light so useful for you ! But our fidelity must be

164 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
proportioned to the light we receive. Since you know-
that your association with N  has become a snare
for you, instead of being a help to you, you must put
this association on a new footing. You must not think
of breaking it altogether, because it is of grace as well
as of nature ; but you must bring it, whatever it may
cost you, to the point where God wishes it to be.
Alas ! what will happen if those who gave themselves
to each other to help each other to die, begin to feed
each other again with a secret food of life ? Your whole
union ought only to tend to simplicity, to forgetfulness
of self, and to the loss of all natural supports. While
you lose support from within, you still seek it from
without. Your interior is often simple and in a dry
peace ; but your exterior is affected, studied, crafty,
and only troubles your interior simplicity. You readily
agree to the principal thing, and you dispute every inch
of ground as to that which only regards the world.
This is not that unity to which every man must be
reduced. Be altogether one thing or the other. When
our interior is entirely given up to God, it sufficiently
regulates our exterior by the Spirit of God Himself. In
this simplicity of abandonment to Him, God will make
us do sufficiently all that is necessary ; but if we
forsake this simplicity with regard to our exterior from
human motives, such a forsaking is an infidelity which
will unsettle all our interior. It is not for you, sir, to
allow yourself to be led away against the grace that is
enlightening you ; on the contrary, it is for you to put
others straight who are still too much guided by human
nature. You ought to restrict your docility to receiving
through humility the advice of all those who may show
you that you are not following the leadings of grace
sufficiently, or that you are acting too much from
human motives ; but to allow yourself to be drawn into

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 165
what is purely human by others under fine pretences,
this is indeed to fall back and to injure them as they
injure you. I shall not fail to say the same thing to
N  when he passes this way again.
Your union ought only to increase as an aid to your
common and entire death to all things, exterior things as
well as interior. When our exterior detachment fails,
it is because our interior is not really detached, and
wishes to reserve to itself some secret life by means of
the exterior. It is time for you, sir, to finish dying.
By putting off the final blow, you only linger on and
prolong your sufferings. You only live to suffer by
resisting God. Die then, let yourself die ; the final blow
will be the finishing stroke. You must no longer wish
to see anything ; for to wish to see, is to wish to
possess ; and to wish to possess, is to wish to live. The
dead possess nothing, and see nothing any more.
Besides, what should you wish to see ? You are only
running after a shadow which always escapes you.
I am yours a thousand times.

79- (IIO0
Advice to a person drawn to recollection, who was
thinking of entering a convent.
I will never fail in my duty to any of the persons
whom God sends to me, until I fail in my duty to God
Himself; therefore do not fear that I will forsake you.
Besides, God well knows how to do immediately, and
by Himself, that which He might refuse to do by means
of a vile instrument. Fear nothing, man of little faith.
Go on exactly as you usually do ; reserve your
entire confidence for N  who knows you thoroughly,
and who alone can comfort you in your troubles.

J.66 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
It will be granted to him to aid you in all your
necessities. No convent would suit you ; all would
constrain you too much, and would expose you con
tinually to a very dangerous temptation against
your special attraction, and this constraint would
trouble your soul. Remain free in your solitude, and
occupy yourself in all simplicity with God and your
own soul. Every day is a feast-day for those who try
to live in the cessation of all other will but the will of
God. Never set any limits to that. Never offer any
resistance to its operations. Why should we hesitate
about opening the door of our heart, when it is the
Spouse of our souls who stands there ? Listen to and
believe all that N  tells you. I desire in the name
of our Lord that you should be in peace. Do not
listen to yourself. Never seek the person who has
drawn away from you, but hold yourself in readiness
to receive him and to console his heart, if he comes
back to you.
There is an extreme difference between pain and
trouble. Simple pain makes Purgatory, but trouble
makes Hell. Pain without infidelity is sweet and
peaceful, by reason of all the powers of the soul being in
full accord to will the suffering that God sends. But
trouble is a rebellion of the heart's depths against God,
and a division of the will against herself; the depths
of the soul are as it were torn in this division. Oh,
how pain purifies us when it is pain pure and simple !
Oh, how sweet it is, although it makes us suffer very
much ! When we will what we suffer, we suffer nothing
in our will, and this is to be in peace. Happy foretaste
of Paradise in Purgatory! But when we resist God
under fine pretexts, we make God resist us in His turn.
When you turn away from the grace that is given you,
you lose peace first of all, and this experience is like

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 167
the pillar of fire by night and cloud by day, which led
the Israelites through the desert. Live by faith, that
you may die to all human wisdom.

80. (in.)
TO THE SAME.
Advice as to the choice of society. That we must not
reason too much upon our interior state.
Solitude is useful for you up to a certain point ; it
is better for you than a set community rule, which
would constrain you with regard to your special
attraction and grace ; but you may easily deceive
yourself with regard to your taste for retreat. Be
satisfied with seeing only the persons to whom you are
united by interior bonds of grace, or those to whom
Providence unites you by exterior bonds ; and even so,
you must not make it a practice to refuse to see any
persons but of these two kinds, and, without reasoning
so much, you must, on every occasion, follow the
leading of your own heart, as to whether you will see,
or not see, the persons whom one is generally free to
see ; above all things, do not withdraw yourself from
those who can help you in your vocation.
I should like you to avoid all activity with regard
to the person about whom you ask my advice. Do not
make a rule for yourself, either to keep away from her,
or to approach her. Only keep yourself ready to be
useful to her, and to tell her the truth every time she
returns to you. Never repulse her, show towards her
always an open and equable heart. If she appears to
keep at a distance from you, write to her, according as
the occasion presents itself, with simplicity, to recall

l68 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
her to her true vocation from God. Warn her of the
snares she has to fear, but do not disquiet yourself, and
do not expect to correct human nature by human
activity. You are in doubt, and you cannot bear to doubt.
I am not astonished at that : doubt is torture. But
do not reason, and you will doubt no more. The
obscurity of pure faith is very different from doubt.
The pains of pure faith bring with them their own
consolation and their own fruit. After they have
annihilated a man, they renew him, and leave him in
full peace. Doubt is the trouble of a soul given up to
herself, who wishes to see what God wishes to hide
from her, and who seeks after impossible assurances
through self-love. What have you sacrificed to God,
if it is not your own judgment and all self-seeking ?
Do you wish to lose sight of that which has always
been your aim ever since the first step you took in the
way of perfection, which was to abandon yourself
entirely to God ? Do you wish to be shipwrecked in
sight of the harbour, to take yourself back again, and
to demand of God that He should submit Himself to
your rules instead of doing as He pleases with you,
when you have promised Him to walk, as Abraham
walked, in the dark night of faith ? And what merit
would you have in doing as you are doing now, if you
had miracles and revelations to assure you of the safety
of your way ? Miracles and revelations even would be
soon exhausted, and 3'ou would fall back into your
doubts again. You are giving way to temptation.
Listen no longer to yourself. Your interior attraction,
if you follow it simply, will disperse all these vain
phantoms. There is an extreme difference between that which
your spirit gets together in its trouble, and that which

TO VARIOUS PERSONS OF PIETY. 1 69
your heart's depths preserve in peace. This last
is from God ; the other comes from nothing but
your self-love. For whom are you troubled ? For
God, or for yourself? If it were for God only, it would
be a simple, peaceful, strong perception, which would
nourish your heart, and despoil you of all created
support. It is quite the contrary, it is for yourself
that you are troubled. It is a disturbance, an uneasi
ness, a distraction, a drying up of your heart, a natural
eagerness to take up human supports again, and never
to allow yourself to die.
How can I answer you ? You wish to be clothed ;
and I can only wish to strip you of everything. You
wish for assurances, and God is jealous in not leaving
you anything of the kind. You desire to live, and there
is no question of anything but of your dying as soon
as possible, and of dying in a sensible destitution of
all things. You ask me for means ; there are no longer
any means : it is in letting them all go, that the work
of death is consummated. What remains to be done
for him who is broken upon the wheel ? Must we give
him remedies or food ? must we give him the cordials
he asks for ? No ; that would be only to prolong his
torture by a cruel kindness, and to elude the execution
of the sentence of the judge. What must we do then ?
We can only do nothing, and let him die as soon as
possible. 81. (112.)
How, in our common Centre, we are united, so as to
become, in a manner, one.
Let us all remain in our only Centre, where we can
always find each other, and where we are all but one
and the same thing. Oh, how miserable it is to be

170 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
two, three, four, &c. ! We must only be one. I wish
to know nothing but unity. All that goes beyond that,
comes from division and from the self-seeking of each
one. Shame upon friends ! They are separated, and
consequently they scarcely love each other at all, or
love each other very badly. The / loves itself too
much, to be able to love that which is called him or her.
As those who have but one single love, without self-
appropriation, have stripped off the I, they love nothing
but in God, and for God alone. On the contrary,
every man that is possessed by self-love, only loves his
neighbour in himself and for himself. Let us then be
united, by being nothing except in our common Centre,
where all is blended together, without a shadow of
distinction. It is there that I will meet you, and we
will dwell together. It is in this undividable point that
China and Canada join hands ; it is here that all
distances are annihilated.
In the name of God, let N  be simple, humble,
open, unreserved, distrustful of himself, and relying
upon you.
He will find in you, not only all he needs, but even
all that you have not of yourself; for God will give
it to him through you, without giving it to you for
yourself. Let him believe humbly, let him live by pure
faith, and it shall be given to him in proportion as he
has believed.

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 171
COUNSELS UPON THE EXERCISE OF DIRECTION.
82. (II3.)
Upon scruples and their remedy.
I am truly grieved, sir, to hear of the troubles from
which you tell me your sister suffers. I have often
seen, and I still see every day, the agonies of people
who are devoured by scruples. It is a kind of interior
martyrdom ; and may go so far as to be a kind of
madness and despair, although the character of the
sufferer may, at bottom, be full of good sense and
virtue. The only remedy against these troubles is obedience.
We must be careful to whom we give our confidence ;
but we must give it to some one, and must obey,
without allowing ourselves to reason. What can the
most holy and enlightened director do to cure us,
if we do not tell him all, and if we will not do as
he tells us ? It is true that, when we are in the
extreme trouble that scruples cause, we are tempted to
think that no one understands us, and that the most
experienced directors, from want of understanding our
state, are giving us advice that is not proportioned to
our needs ; but this is an error of an overpowering
imagination, which will only end in an incurable dis
obedience, if we allow ourselves to be led astray by it.
Ought we to constitute ourselves the judges of our own
conduct, when we are in a state of temptation and
trouble which leaves us only half the use of our
reason ? Is it not then, more than ever, that we have
need of redoubling our docility towards a director,
and our distrust of ourselves ? Ought we not to believe
that God will not fail us in these severe trials; and

172 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
that He will then enlighten a director, in whom we
seek only to know His will, in order that this director
may give us fitting advice in our pressing need ? God
will not allow us to be tempted above that which we are able,
as St. Paul assures us.(<*)
But it is to simple and docile souls, that He
promises always to hold out His hand in such violent
temptations. We are wanting in our duty to God,
are doing Him an injury, and wronging His goodness,
when we doubt that He will give to a good director
all that is necessary to preserve us from shipwreck in
such a tempest. I quite agree that we must tolerate
in a person, while she is suffering so extremely, certain
fits of impatience, certain inequalities, certain irregular
outbursts, and even certain contradictions in words, or
in passing conduct ; but after these surprises, it is
necessary that the true character should reappear, and
show a sincere determination to obey constantly.
As to all the rest, it depends upon details of which
I am ignorant. But indeed, whatever remedy your
sister seeks, whatever changes she may wish to try,
to whatever practices she may have recourse, she will
always need a director whom she never leaves. To
change our director, is to take direction into our own
hands, instead of being submissive to it, as we ought
to be. A direction that is thus varied, is no longer a
direction ; it is a disobedience which seeks in everything
to flatter itself. The most severe of all penances is the
inmost humiliation of the spirit ; it is when we give up
believing in ourselves and listening to ourselves ; it is
when we rely humbly upon a man of God ; it is that
poverty of spirit, which as Jesus Christ tells us, makes
a man blessed : otherwise, we only turn mortification
into secret food for our self-love. Try to induce her
(") 1 Cor. a. 13.

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 173
to be firm, to conquer her own spirit by faith in the
goodness of God, and to obey simply. This is the
source of true peace. 83. (114O
On the importance of communicating little things, and
of renouncing intellectual self-complacency.
There is one thing in your letter which does not
please me ; it is that you do not think it necessary to
tell me about the little things that occupy you, because
you imagine that I shall despise them, and shall be
wearied with hearing of them. No, indeed, I despise
nothing, and should be very contemptible myself, if I
had contempt for others. There is no one who is not
occupied, in spite of himself, with many little things.
Virtue does not consist in being without this multitude
of useless thoughts ; but fidelity consists in never giving
way to them voluntarily, and simplicity requires that we
should tell them just as they are. These things, it is
true, are little in themselves ; but there is nothing so
great before God as a soul that humbles itself to tell
them, without listening to self-love. Besides, these
little things discover what you really are, much better
than certain other greater things, which are accom
panied by a greater preparation, and by certain efforts,
in which the natural character appears less plainly.
A sick man tells everything to his physician, and is not
satisfied with explaining to him the graver symptoms ;
it is by a quantity of little circumstances, that he makes
the physician thoroughly understand his constitution,
the causes of his illness and the remedies suitable for
his cure. Tell me then everything, and be sure that
you will never do any good, until you tell everything
that the light of God shows you that you ought to tell.

174 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
I think you are right not to wish to read St. Teresa
just at present : the feeling that prevents you from
doing so is very good. You will never be so pleasing
to God, as when you give up that which is called
intellect, and when you neglect your own, as a woman
who has really broken with the world, gives up adorning
her body. The adornment of the mind is still more
flattering and more dangerous. Read St. Francis de
Sales carefully. He is above the intellect ; he does not
give us any of that, he takes it away, and makes us
wish no longer to possess it ; it is an illness of which
he cures us. Blessed are the poor in spirit. (a) This poverty
is at the same time their treasure and their wisdom.

84- ("50
That we must be faithful in declaring our interior
troubles.
I am not surprised at your troubles. It is natural
that you should feel them. They ought only to serve
to make you feel how powerless you are, and make you
have recourse humbly to God. When you feel your
heart overcome by trouble, be simple and candid
in telling it. Do not be ashamed to disclose your
weakness, and to ask for help in this pressing need.
This practice will accustom you to simplicity, to
humility, and to dependence. It will destroy your self-
love very much, which lives but a life of disguise and
puts on a cheerful countenance when it is in despair.
For the rest, try to amuse yourself with anything
that can relieve your solitude, and preserve you from
weariness, without caring about it too much, or seeking
dissipation from a taste for the world. If you keep
(") Matt. v. 3.

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 1 75
your troubles in your own heart, they will always go
on increasing, and in the end they will overcome you.
The false courage of self-love will be the cause of infinite
evils to you. The venom that goes in is mortal ; that
which comes out does no great harm. You must not
be ashamed to see the bad matter which issues from the
wound of the heart.
I do not dwell at all on certain words which escape
from you, and which the excess of your pain makes
you utter against the intention of your true will. It
is enough that these outbursts teach you how weak you
are, and that you are willing to see your weakness and
to let others see it.

85- ("6.)
Why and how we ought to disclose our troubles. On
the manner of conversing with God.
Nothing is better than to tell all. We open our
hearts ; we cure our pains by not keeping them to
ourselves ; we accustom ourselves to simplicity and
dependence ; for we only keep back those things about
which we are afraid of submitting ourselves to the
judgment of another : in a word, we humble ourselves,
for nothing is more humiliating than to unwrap the
folds of our hearts, and expose all our miseries : but
nothing draws upon us so much blessing.
It is not that it is necessary for us to make a strict
rule and have a set method of saying everything we
think, with a scrupulous exactitude : we should never
have finished, and we should always be uneasy for fear
of having forgotten something. It is sufficient if we
keep back nothing from a want of simplicity, or from
the shame of our self-love, which would rather never

176 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
allow itself to be seen except under its most beautiful
forms ; it is sufficient to have no design of not telling
everything when the opportunity presents itself : after
this, we say more or less, without scruple, according
as the occasions and the thoughts present themselves.
Although I may be very much occupied, and perhaps
often very dry, this simplicity of grace will never fatigue
me ; on the contrary, it will increase my unreserve and
my zeal.
It is not a question of feeling, but of willing. Often
our feelings do not depend upon ourselves ; God may
take away feeling from us, expressly to make us know
our poverty, to accustom us to the cross by interior
desolation, and to purify us by keeping us attached to
Him without this sensible consolation. Afterwards,
He will give us this comfort again from time to time,
in pity for our weakness.
Converse with God, not in a strained manner, as
with persons whom one sees as a matter of ceremony,
and to whom one pays measured compliments ; but be
with Him as with a good friend with whom you feel
no constraint, and to whom you also are no trouble. We
see each other, we speak and listen to each other, or
we say nothing to one another, and are content to be
together without saying anything ; the two hearts rest
in each other, and are reflected in one another, they
make but one ; we do not measure what we say, and
take no care to insinuate or to bring about anything ;
all is said by simple feeling and without order ; we
reserve nothing, construe nothing, shape nothing ; we
are as content on the day we have spoken little to each
other, as when we have had a great deal to say. We
can be like this but imperfectly, with even the best of
earthly friends ; but we can be so perfectly with God,
when we do not envelope ourselves in the refinements

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 177
of self-love. We must not go to pay visits to God
by way of rendering Him a passing duty ; we must live
with Him in the familiarity of faithful servants, or
better still, of loving children. Be with Him as your
daughter is with you ; and in this way you will never
weary of Him. Try it with this simplicity, and you
can tell me about it afterwards.

86. (i 17O
That our simplicity in opening our hearts must be
without any reserve of self-love. That we must not
be angry and vexed with ourselves at the sight of our
faults. You must not deliberate to know if you ought to
tell everything. We can do nothing that is good,
except by an entire simplicity, and an unreserved
opening of our heart. There is no other rule but that
of never willingly keeping anything back, through the
repugnance which self-love may feel to say that which
is disadvantageous to itself. However, it would be out
of place to attend to things which may present them
selves to our minds as things which ought to be told,
if this happens during our prayer ; this would only be
to encourage distraction. It is enough, if on proper
occasions we tell all we know of ourselves, with a free
opening of our heart.
I understand quite well that a certain uneasiness
of self-love causes certain things, which we meant
to tell, to escape from our memory at the moment
when we ought to speak of them ; but beside the
fact that we are sure to remember them a little later
on, and that we never forget the most important
things we know against ourselves, God will in addition
M **

178 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
bless our simplicity, and will not permit us to leave
untold that which His light will show us in our souls
as opposed to His grace. The principal point is
not to be too subtle in our reflections, and to tell
everything without affectation, according to the light
we have, when the occasion comes. It is only the
wrappings of self-love that can conceal the depths of
our heart. Never listen to yourself; then you will
open your heart without difficulty, and you will speak
of yourself as easily as you speak of others.
All that you tell me of your prayer is very good.
I thank God for it, and beg of you to continue. Never
forget that good saying contained in your first letter :
I find by experience that grace does not fail me, when I despair
very much of myself. And this also is excellent : / feel
that the cross unites me to God. Finally, here is a third
which I appreciate very much : It seems to me that God
does not wish me to examine my dispositions so much, but rather
He asks that I should abandon myself to Him. Keep your
self in this state, and return to it, as soon as you are
conscious of falling away from it.
Your second letter shows me that this state is
changed. You must bring it back by giving up your
reflections quietly and gradually; they only distract
and trouble you. Temptations to vain complacency
ought not to prevent you from speaking to me or
writing to me. We must not occupy ourselves too
curiously with ourselves ; but we must tell simply all
that the light of God reveals to us.
I am not astonished that God allows you to fall into
faults, even during the time of fervour and recollection,
when you would least wish to commit them. The
Providence which permits these faults is one of the
graces which God grants you at such times; for He
only permits these faults to make you feel how power-

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 179
less you are to correct them by your own efforts alone.
What can be more suitable to Divine grace, than to
undeceive you about yourself, and to reduce you always
to have recourse, in all humility, to God ? Profit by
your faults, and they will be more useful to you, by
lowering you in your own eyes, than all your good
works are in consoling you. Faults are always faults ;
but they put us in a state of confusion and of reliance
upon God, which is very good for us.
I am not surprised that you should have outbursts
of grief ; but you must be silent as soon as the spirit of
grace warns you, and imposes silence upon you. Then
it is to resist God and to grieve the Holy Spirit, if you
persist in giving way to your sorrow. The fear of
displeasing God ought to restrain you more than the
fear of displeasing creatures. When you have committed
a fault through self-love, do not expect that self-love
can repair it, by its shame or impatience with itself.
We must bear with ourselves, and see all our imper
fections, without flattering ourselves. We must desire
to correct ourselves for the love of God, without being
indignant with our imperfections through self-love. It
is much better to labour quietly to correct ourselves,
than to get vexed about our miseries — a vexation which
is sheer waste of time and energy. We must cut short
everywhere all self-wise self-occupation, especially in
confession. But God allows us to find mud in the
depths of our heart, even in the midst of the holiest
exercises.

l8o SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
87. ("8.)
That we cannot find peace in listening to ourselves.
That which I have told you has only pained you
so much, because I have touched the most quick and
sensitive place in your heart. It is the wound of your
self-love which I have made bleed. You have not
entered with simplicity into that which God asks of
you. If you had acquiesced in all, without listening
to yourself, and if you had gone to Holy Communion,
to find in our Lord the strength which you have not
in yourself, you would have found first of all a true
peace, and then great fruit from your acquiescence.
That which you have not done can be done, and I beg
of you to do it as soon as possible.
88.(119.)
That we must make our imperfections profitable for our
humiliation. That we must regard God only, in
His creatures.
It is true that you notice things too much, that you
wish to divine too much, through your self-love that is
so sensitive and quick to take offence, and that you are
easily affronted ; but you must bear this interior cross
as you bear exterior ones. It is a much harder one
to bear than crosses from without. We suffer much
more willingly from the unreasonableness of others
than from our own unreasonableness. Our pride is in
despair about this last, it is vexed at being vexed ; but
this double vexation is a double evil. There is only
one remedy, and that is to profit by our imperfections
by making use of them to humble us, to put us to

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. l8l
shame, to undeceive us about ourselves, and to make
us distrust our own hearts.
You ought to thank God for making you feel that
the necessary labour for gaining M  is one of your
first duties. Die to your own feelings of repugnance,
to prepare yourself to teach him how to die to his
faults. You are not at all mistaken when you look upon
me as a sincere and tried friend ; but you make an
obstacle to grace out of that which should be simply
its instrument, if you are not faithful in seeking God
alone in me, and seeing only His light in me, as the
rays of the sun pass through a worthless and fragile
glass. You will never find peace either in society or in
solitude, if you only seek them to gratify the desire of
your offended self-love for pleasures and consolations.
Then the solitude of a sulky pride is still worse than a
society that is a little dissipated. When you are really
simple and humble, society will neither weary you nor
vex you ; then you will seek solitude for the sake of
God alone. 89. (120.)
That we must courageously renounce the human
supports which God takes away from us.
God only gives His Spirit to those who ask it of
Him with gentleness and humility. Make yourself
humble then, make your heart meek. Become a good
little child, who allows himself to be carried wherever
people wish to carry him, and who does not even ask
where they are going to take him.
As for me, I can no longer have the honour of
seeing you ; but you have no need of me, if you have

182 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
the courage to decide nothing of yourself, and to submit
to the will of those who are set over you. There was
in former days a solitary who deprived himself of the
book of the Gospels, and who said: " I have deprived
myself of everything, even of the book that taught me
how to do so." Of what use is the resignation that
you have loved so much ? Is it not an illusion, if you
do not practise it when the occasion presents itself?
I am not to be compared with the sacred book of the
Gospels, in which are contained the words of eternal
life ; but if I were an angel from Heaven, instead of
being only an unworthy priest, you ought not to think
of me, except to remember what I may have been
able to say that was good.
I have never spoken to you of anything but of
abandonment without reserve, and of childlike docility.
I have, therefore, only taught you to detach yourself
from me as from everything else, and to abandon
yourself without hesitation to the guidance of your
Superiors. It would be to draw you away from your
appointed grace and from the dispensation of God,
if I were to wish still to give you the assistance to
which you ought to die. When the time for dying
to a certain assistance is come, that assistance is no
longer an assistance ; it becomes a snare. Instead of
being a means of uniting us to God, it becomes a
human medium between God and ourselves, which
keeps us back and prevents our close union with Him.
I pray Him with all my heart, madam, to give you
the spirit of faith and sacrifice which you need for the
accomplishment of His will. No one will ever honour
you more perfectly than I do.

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 183

90. (121.)
Against excessive attachment to the consolations we
receive from the guidance of a particular director.
You give me real pleasure, sir, by telling me of the
openness of heart which you will have for me ; I also
will speak to you with the same frankness when the
occasion comes. But you must not speak from a secret
desire of finding certainty ; for it is not fitting that you
should seek for that. God is jealous of all that can
be turned into a support for self, and still more jealous
of any indirect seeking after such things as we would
not venture to seek directly. Be sure that I well know
how truly we should rely on those whom God has made
to pass through many trials : I cannot have the same
relations with others, although they may be faithful
according to their measure. But we must not cling to
anything, not even to our being stripped of all things,
for fear we may after all be insensibly clothed with
them. Forget yourself, and all your pains will disappear.
People think the love of God is a martyrdom ; no, all
our pains only come from self-love. It is self-love
that doubts, that hesitates, that resists, that suffers,
that reckons up its sufferings, that changes on every
occasion, and hinders that deep peace which souls
that are delivered from themselves experience. I am
speaking too much of these things ; but I am sure that
you wish me to speak from my heart and quite freely.

184 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

91. (122.)
On the necessity of listening to God, and to those whom
He gives us to be our guides.
I have seen N  , I have listened to him much.;
I have spoken to him but little. I followed in this
respect the leading of my own heart ; perhaps God
wished to show him, through me, how he ought to
cut short superfluous speech. I said to him in very
few words that which seemed to me suitable to his
needs. Everything is summed up in the silence of the
soul, which will regulate all his exterior conduct. If
he does not incessantly mortify the vivacity of his
imagination, by recollection according to the degree of
perfection that is required of him, he will never be in
a state to listen to the voice of God, and to act peace
fully under the influence of the spirit of grace. The
hastiness of nature will always try to anticipate the
movements of God by its impatient efforts ; they ought
to be waited for. If he were only to speak, when God
makes him speak, he would speak little and very well ;
but as his imagination carries him away constantly, the
only safe rule for him, which will regulate all the rest,
is to listen to you, to believe what you tell him, to
obey you, to humble himself under your hand, and to
stop short as soon as you speak. He must help you,
but you must decide for him.
I charge him, then, to listen to you, without listening
to himself, and I advise you to prevail upon him, with
full authority, to do as you tell him. On your side, you
must receive with simplicity and humility that which
grace will lead him to tell you about your weaknesses.

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 185
Do not fear them by anticipation ; Sufficient for the day
is the evil thereof. Be not solicitous for the morrow, for the
morrow will be solicitous for itself. if) He Who is the
source of the heart's peace to-day, is all powerful and
all gracious, and will be its source again to-morrow.
Do not bring temptation upon yourself by wishing
to anticipate trials for which you have not yet the grace.
As soon as you perceive such thoughts arising, stop
them in the beginning. We deserve temptation when
we encourage it. Cut such thoughts short, not by
efforts and methods, but by leaving them alone, without
saying yes or no to them. People to whom we make
no answer are soon silent. Give yourself up entirely
to God, without ever repossessing yourself under any
pretext, and He will take care of everything.

92. (123.)
How we ought to act towards a weak and dissipated
person.
As for N  , he is nothing but weakness and dissi
pation. It was the war that began the mischief;
other temptations found him weakened by that ; but
I hope the experience of his own weakness will be
profitable to him. Have an unbounded patience with
him. Speak to him when God inspires you with the
words, and never put in any of your own. Never
press him through activity and human wisdom ; never
be patient out of politeness or by rule. W'hen you
speak the words of God to him, they will be full of
authority, and he will listen to you. We can both
speak strongly and wait patiently, at the same time;
his very weakness will increase your authority over
(") Matt. vi. 34.

l86 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
him. It ought to make him feel what great need he
has to distrust himself and to be docile. Be firm upon
the essential points, on which all the others depend.
I shall always love him tenderly, and I hope that
God has only shown him the brink of the precipice,
to cure him of his dissipation, his taste for the world,
and his confidence in himself; but he would fall very
low indeed, if he were still to refuse to be simple,
docile, and humble, after so many experiences of his
weakness and misery. When we will not humble
ourselves, even in the midst of the humiliations which
God expressly sends us to reduce us to lowliness and
pliability, we force Him, in spite of Himself, to strike
us with still harder blows, and to make us experience
still more humiliating weaknesses. On the contrary,
our humility and docility in our miseries touch the
Heart of God. We can say to Him with confidence :
A contrite and humbled heart, 0 God, Thou wilt not despise. (a)
God takes pity on us, and never resists this submission
of the humble.
Speak then, according as utterance and wisdom are
given to you. Hold the child by his leading-strings ;
do not let him fall. Take care of your health, about
which what I hear gives me some anxiety ; rest and
refresh yourself in everything as much as you can.
The more you are able to take your daily crosses as
your daily bread, in peace and simplicity, the less harm
they will do to your feeble and delicate health ; but
foresight and reflections would soon kill you. Do you
wish to guide everything as God does, Who can reach
from one extremity to another with strength and
sweetness combined ? Do not let any human motives
mix with your intention; above all, no interested
desire for the reputation of your family.
C) Ps. 1. 19.

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION. 187

93. (124.)
That we must not press a soul too much when God is
leading it ; but accommodate ourselves to the grace it
has, and wait for God's time.
As for the person of whom you tell me, you have
only to do that which I imagine you are doing, and
that is, to wait for her, never to press her, to let God
alone press her soul interiorly, and to say to her what
God gives you for her when she comes to you ; to
say it to her gently, with friendliness, long-suffering,
patience, and consolation. She will have inequalities,
irresolutions, mistrust of you and temptations against
you ; but God will not leave her without finishing His
work in her soul, and it is for you to support her.
The operations of grace are painful. We come as far
as the verge of the sacrifice of all things in this world,
and we often recoil with horror from precipitating
ourselves therein. These hesitations that are so pain
ful, are the foundations for that which God is preparing.
The weaker we are, the more strength God will give
us. Look at the Agony in the Garden, where Jesus
Christ was sorrowful even unto death, and prayed that
the chalice of bitterness might be taken from Him :
this weakness was followed by the great Sacrifice of
the Cross.
Provided that you never press this person too much,
she will always return to you, and these returns will
give you an infinite power over her. Often there is no
need of anything more than half a word, or a look,
or even a silence, to complete the determination of a
soul whom God is drawing to Himself. When you
cannot speak to her, give her some good and short
spiritual reading to do or some little prayers to say.

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

If her mind is too troubled for set exercises of devotion,
remain with her in silence ; from time to time say a
few words to calm her; bear from her whatever bad
temper and the spirit of temptation may lead her to
do, and let her always find you afterwards as kind and
open as before. It is only deliberate unfaithfulness
to her special grace which you must never pass over ;
but as for outbursts which escape from her, you must
bear with them.
If you could induce her to see some person of
experience and grace, who might assist you, it would
be a consolation for you and for her ; but if you know
of no suitable person, or if she cannot confide in any
one but you, you must carry the burden alone.
94. (125.)
That we must not be disgusted with the imperfections of
others, and must not press beginners too hard.
I am very sorry for all the disappointments you
find in men ; but you must accustom yourself to expect
very little from them, and in this way you will never
be disappointed. We must take from men what they
can give us, as we take from trees the fruit they are
able to bear. There are often trees on which we can
find nothing but leaves and caterpillars. God bears
with imperfect people and waits for them ; He is not
even disgusted with their resistance. We ought to
imitate this patience which is so amiable, and this
forbearance which is so merciful. It is only imper
fection which is so impatient with that which is im
perfect ; the more perfection we attain to, the more
patientty and quietly shall we bear with the imperfection
of others, without flattering it. Leave those alone who,

EXERCISE OF DIRECTION.

in their prejudice against others, set up a tribunal of
justice ; if anything can ever cure them, it is to let
them go on exactly as they please, and on our side,
to walk on in their presence with the simplicity and
humility of a child.
Do not press N  . We must only ask in pro
portion as God gives. When N  is reserved with
you, wait for him and only speak to him to help
him to expand: when he once expands to you, one
word will do more than twenty or thirty spoken at the
wrong moment. We cannot expect to sow or to reap,
when there is a frost and the earth is hard. If you
pressed him, you would discourage him. He would
only feel a fear of seeing you, and a persuasion that
you are acting through your natural vivacity and wish
to rule over him. When God shall will to make an
opening for you, you will always hold yourself in
readiness to follow His signal, without ever anticipating
it. This is the work of faith, this is the patience of
the saints. This work goes on within the workman
also, at the same time that he labours outside for
others; for he who thus labours dies incessantly to
self, by labouring to do the will of God in others.

igo SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
COUNSELS UPON THE TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF
THE SPIRITUAL LIFE.
95. (126.)
That we must abandon ourselves to God, in the midst of
the vicissitudes of the spiritual life.
Let your heart go as God leads it, sometimes up,
sometimes down ; this vicissitude is a hard trial. If we
were always in a state of trouble, we might get hardened
to it, or rather we could not last very long in it ; but
intervals of calm and breathing-time renew our strength,
and prepare a more painful surprise for us when the
bitterness returns. As for me, when I suffer, I can
see nothing any longer before me but unbounded
suffering ; and when the time for consolation returns,
nature fears to enjoy this sweetness, for fear it may
only be some kind of snare, which will turn into a more
piercing surprise when the cross begins again. But
it seems to me that true fidelity consists in taking good
and evil equally, as they come, and to be willing to
endure all these shocks. We must allow ourselves to
be comforted when God comforts us, allow ourselves
to be surprised when He surprises us, and afflicted
when He afflicts us.
Even whilst saying all this to you, I dread all that
the experience of these things brings with it ; I tremble
at the mere shadow of the cross : but an exterior cross,
without the interior one, which is desolation, horror,
and agony, would be nothing. I tell you this, dear
N  , almost unintentionally, for it is what I am
experiencing at the present moment. My heart is in
peace to-day, but in desolation and bitterness ; the
morrow is unknown to me ; but God will do as He

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. Igi
pleases, and that shall always be my daily bread. It is
sometimes very hard, and very heavy on the stomach.
Listen to God, and not to yourself: in this practice
you will find true liberty, peace, and the joy of the
Holy Spirit. 96. (127.)
Showing in what true fervour consists.
Be at peace, M  . Sensible fervour does not
depend upon you at all : the only thing that is in your
own power is your will. Give that to God without
reserve. It is not a question of feeling a relish of piety,
it is a question of willing all that God wills. Acknow
ledge your faults humbly ; be detached, resign yourself;
love God more than you love yourself, and love His
glory more than your life; at least desire to love in
this way, and ask for this true love. God will love you
and will give you His peace in the depths of 3?our heart.
I pray of Him to give it to you, and I would willingly
suffer to gain it for you. 97. (128.)
That we must be satisfied with the operation of God,
although it may be hidden, and hard to distinguish
from the outbreaks of our natural temperament.
I understand sufficiently, it seems to me, that which
troubles you. Your state is so simple, so dry and so
bare, that you find nothing to sustain you, and all
sensible certainty fails you when you need it most.
But your conduct is straightforward, and far from all
that could cause illusion. It even appears to me that
you are more exact than formerly, without being less

192 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
free and less simple. I find you more moderate, less
opinionated, more accommodating, less attentive to
the faults of others, more patient when occasions for
patience arise, more diligent in fulfilling your duties.
Although it may seem to you that all this is done by
you quite naturally, it is nevertheless true that your
natural character does not do all that, and that it used
to do quite the contrary.
It is not surprising that the operation of Divine
grace, to conceal itself, should shade off insensibly into
what is purely natural. Moreover, we always commit
many faults by the outbreaks of our natural tempera
ment, especially when we are very lively, and, being
well aware of them, we are tempted to believe that- life
is quite full of these natural motions to which we allow
ourselves to give way : but in reality we do labour, in
spite of our faults, to check these outbreaks ; and
although this work is simple and not very sensible, it
does not cease to be very real. On the other hand, the
faults that we see keep our souls in distrust of ourselves
and in a perfect poverty of spirit.
Do not then be sad; and although God may not
give you much consolation, do not be weary of resting
in His bosom. The world is not suitable for you in
your state. The society of most people would not be
fitting for you, even if it were not dangerous ; but I
could wish for you the innocent society of a few good
people who might amuse you and refresh your mind.
As for me, my heart is dry and weary : life gives me
no pleasure ; but we must always go forward, and be
each day as God wills. If I dared, I would say that
I desire Him alone and entirely.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. ig3
98. (129.)
That we must be faithful to our exercises of devotion,
independently of all sensible relish. That we must
love God, and tend to His love by our will.
I have often thought since yesterday, sir, of the
things which you did me the honour to tell me, and
I hope more and more that God will sustain you.
Although you may not feel a great relish for your
exercises of piety, you must not cease to be as faithful
to them as your health will permit. A sick man, who
is convalescent, may be still disgusted with his food -
but in spite of his disgust, he must eat to nourish
himself. It would even be very useful if you could sometimes
have a little Christian conversation with persons of
your own family to whom you could speak freely ; but
in the choice of such persons, act in all liberty accord
ing to your present inclination. God is not drawing
you by touching your heart in any lively or sensible
manner, and I am glad of it, provided that you remain
firm in doing good ; for a constant fidelity, without
relish, is much purer, and more proof against all
dangers, than those great emotions which are too much
in the imagination. A little reading and recollection
each day will insensibly give you the light and strength
you need for all the sacrifices you must make to God.
Love Him ; and I pass over all the rest ; all the rest
will come through love : I do not even require you to
have a tender and eager love ; it is enough if your will
tends to love, and if, in spite of the corrupt inclinations
which remain in your heart, your will prefers God to
the whole world and to itself. You will be the most
ungrateful of men, if you do not love God Who loves

I94 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
you so much, and Who condescends to knock at the
door of your heart, that He may fill it with His love.
When you do not find this love within you, at least ask
for it, desire to have it, and expect it with a firm
confidence. This is what I cannot prevent myself from
saying to you, so full am I of all that concerns you.

99- (!3o0
Upon involuntary distractions and desolations.
You cannot tell me things too simply. Do not
trouble yourself about the thoughts of vanity which
annoy you, with regard to the dispositions of your heart
which you are explaining to me. God will not permit
the venom of pride to corrupt that which you do of
necessity, that you may go straight to Him. More
over, there is always more to humble and confound us,
than to give us pleasure and glorify us, in the things
we are obliged to tell about ourselves. We must tell
the good as well as the evil, in all simplicity, in order
that the person to whom we confide may know every
thing, as a physician should, and may be able to give
us the remedies suitable to our needs.
It is not at all a question of that which you feel in
spite of yourself, nor of the thoughts which present
themselves to your mind, nor of the involuntary distrac
tions which weary you in prayer : it is enough if your
will has the intention of never being distracted, that is
to say, if you always have an upright and sincere
intention of making your prayer well, and of avoiding
distractions as soon as you are conscious of them.
If you keep to this intention, your distractions
will only do you good : they will fatigue you, humble
you, accustom you to live on dry black bread in the

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 195
house of God : you will remain faithful in serving
God, in loving Him, and in uniting yourself to Him
in prayer, without enjoying therein the sensible conso
lations which we often seek more than we seek Himself.
Delusion is to be feared when we only seek God for
the sake of the pleasure we feel in His presence. This
pleasure can flatter self-love. But when we remain
united to God in the darkness of pure faith, and the
dryness of distractions, we follow Him by bearing the
Cross for the love of Him. When sweetness comes,
you will receive it as a help to your weakness. When
God weans you from it, as a child is weaned from
milk, that he may be nourished with bread, you will
do without this sensible sweetness, and go on loving
God in a humble and mortified state.
Be very careful, when you are in this state of deso
lation, not to give up 3'our Communions. Prayer and
Holy Communion must go on with an equal step,
without sensible pleasure, but in pure fidelity. God
is never so well served, as when we serve Him, so to
speak, at our own expense, without having a perceptible
profit immediately. 100. (131.)
That we must bear patiently our loss of conscious fervour,
and difficulty in prayer. On the prayer of quiet.
I am not astonished at your loss of sensible fervour.
You cannot expect to have it always when you will ;
God does not allow it to be continual : it is good for
us to feel by the inequality of our own feelings, that
fervour is a gift of God, and that He gives it and takes
it away as He pleases. If we were always in a state of
fervour, we should never feel either our crosses or our
own weaknesses ; temptations would no longer be real

I96 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
temptations. It is necessary for us to be tried by
the interior rebellion of our corrupt nature, and that
our love should be purified by our disgust and weari
ness. We never cleave so closely to God, as when we
cleave to Him no longer by sensible delight, and when
we remain faithful to Him by our bare will, being
fastened to the Cross. Our sufferings from without
would be no longer real sufferings, if we were free from
those within.
Bear then with patience the difficulty you find in
prayer, and it will be more useful for you than a sensible
delight in prayer, accompanied with confidence in your
state. Distaste for prayer, when it is borne by a faithful
will, is a good penance. It humbles us, it makes us
distrust ourselves and feel how weak we are, it makes
us have more frequent recourse to God. These are
great advantages. This involuntary tepidity, and this
inclination to seek after all that can flatter self-love,
ought never to prevent you from going to Holy
Communion. You wish to run after a sensible delight in God,
which is not really love for Him, nor is it true prayer.
Take this delight when God gives it to you, and when
He does not give it, love Him still, and try to make
your prayer as if this relish were not wanting to you.
To wait for God, is already to possess Him. For the
rest, you do very well in not asking God for delights
and consolations, except in so far as it may please Him
to give them to you. If God wishes to sanctify you by
the deprivation of these sensible delights, you must
conform yourself to His merciful designs and bear
your desolation : it will serve still better to make you
humble, and help you to die to yourself; and that is
the work of God.
Your troubles only come from yourself: you make

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 197
them for yourself by listening to yourself. It is a
refinement and sensitiveness of self-love that you
nourish in your heart, when you are melted to pity
for yourself. Instead of faithfully bearing your own
cross, and fulfilling your duties by helping others to
bear theirs, and reforming the persons whom God has
given into your charge, you shut yourself up in yourself,
and occupy yourself with nothing but your own dis
couragement. Hope in God ; He will sustain you, and
will make you useful to your neighbour, provided you
do not doubt of His help, and do not spare yourself in
this work.
Be very careful not to change your manner of
prayer ; you would do infinite harm in so doing. The
quiet of which you tell me is excellent, whenever you
feel the attraction for it. Leave it to occupy yourself
with more distinct truths, when you are able to do so
and have the inclination ; but do not fear this silence
of the soul, when it leaves in you afterwards a more
faithful attention to God for the rest of the day.
Remain freely with God in the best way you can,
provided your will is united to Him, and that you
seek afterwards to do His will at the expense of your
own. 101. (132O
On the instinct of the soul; on the presence of God ;
on innocent amusements.
I think you must be at peace with regard to your
prayer ; it seems to me good, and you have only to
continue it with confidence in Him from Whom it
comes, and to Whom it unites you. As to that which
you call instinct, it is a secret germ of love and a sense
of the presence of God, which you must take care to

ig8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
nourish, because it is that which will nourish all the
rest of your heart. The way to cultivate this instinct is
quite simple : it is necessary, (i) to avoid all dissipation
which might weaken it ; (2) to follow its guidance by
returning to silence and recollection whenever it
reawakens within you, and makes you conscious of
distraction ; (3) to yield to this instinct, by sacrificing
to it whatever it requires you to sacrifice, on every
occasion, to make you die to self.
We must not think that this sense of the presence
of God is imaginary, unless it give us great lights to
say fine things. This presence is never more real
and more full of mercy, than when it teaches us to be
silent, to be humble, not to listen to our self-love, and
to remain with lowliness and fidelity in the darkness
of faith. This inner taste for self-renunciation and
humility is much more useful for us than brilliant
lights and lively emotions.
As for that sensible presence of God which you
have less than you formerly had, it is not in your own
power. God gives it and takes it away as He pleases ;
it is enough if you do not fall into voluntary dissipation.
There are amusements of passion or vanity, which
distract us and set up a barrier between God and
ourselves. There are other amusements, which we
only take in simplicity and according to God's estab
lished order, to refresh us, to occupy the activity of our
imagination, while our heart has another and a more
secret occupation. We may amuse ourselves in this
way at such times in the day when we could not con
tinue our prayer without fatiguing ourselves ; then
these very amusements become half a prayer, and are
sometimes worth as much as the prayer which we
make expressly.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE, igg
102. (133.)
That we must not trouble ourselves about our feelings,
but about our real will.
You must try to repair the disorder of which you
complain in your soul. The too natural ways of others
awaken in us all that in us also is too natural and
draw us away from a certain centre of the life of grace ;
but we must go back again to it with simplicity and
self-distrust. Harshness and injustice and falsehood
are found in our heart, as to our feelings, when we
are in the company of persons who wound our self-
love ; but it is sufficient if our will does not follow this
inclination. We must profit by our faults, by having
an entire distrust of our own heart.
I am very glad that you find in yourself no resource
to bear the kind of life you have embraced. I should
fear everything for you, if you felt yourself strong for
the practice of good, and if you were certain of
persevering in it ; but I hope all things when I see
that you are sincerely in despair about yourself. Oh,
how weak we are when we think ourselves strong !
Oh, how strong we are with the strength of God,
when we feel how weak we are of ourselves !
Feeling is not in your own power : but then love
does not consist in feeling. It is your will that is in
your own power, and that is what God asks of you.
Will must be followed by action ; but often God does
not ask great things from us. To rule our household
well, to set our affairs in order, to bring up our children,
to bear our crosses, to give up the vain joys of the
world, to flatter our pride in nothing, to restrain our
natural haughtiness ; to labour to become simple,
artless, and humble ; to be silent, to recollect ourselves,

200 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and to accustom ourselves to live a life that is hidden
with Jesus Christ in God : these are the good works
with which God is satisfied.
You say 3^0 u desire crosses to expiate your sins, and
to show your love for God. Be contented with your
present crosses ; before seeking for any others, bear
these well ; do not pay attention either to your inclina
tions or your repugnances ; keep yourself in this
general disposition of unreserved dependence upon
the spirit of grace on all ocasions. This is the con
tinual death to self. Refuse nothing to God, and do
not anticipate Him in anything, with regard to things
in which you do not yet see His will clearly. Every
day will bring its own crosses and its own sacrifices.
When God wishes to make you pass into another state,
He will prepare you for it insensibly. I will always
willingly be your instrument for death through this
dependence upon grace. I hope that God will relent
lessly pursue in you all life of self-love.

103- (1 340
That we must receive equally from God tranquillity
and dryness in prayer.
You must not be troubled at the tranquillity which
¦God gives you in prayer. When it comes, you must
take it without any scruple : it would be to resist God,
if you wished, under pretence of humility and penitence,
to reject this attraction of grace, to occupy yourself
with your own miseries. The sight of your miseries
will return quite enough in its proper turn. But when
you feel an attraction and a facility in being in a sweet
sense of the presence of God, nothing is so good as to

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 201
remain there. You confess that, except this tranquillity
in the presence of God, you do not know what prayer
is. Be very careful then not to forsake, by your own
choice, a disposition out of which you say that your
prayer is lost.
On the other hand, when a certain sweetness fails
you in this state of prayer, do not think that all is lost.
God only takes away that pleasure from you, to wean
you gradually, as a child is weaned, and to accustom
you to dry bread instead of milk. The child must be
weaned, and the child cries : but it is better to let him
cry, and to wean him, that he may be better nourished
and helped to grow. The deprivation of sensible
sweetness does not destroy our prayer ; on the contrary,
it purifies it. It is to have God without God, as you
said to me yesterday, that is to say, God alone, without
His gifts, which make His presence sweet, sensible,
and consoling : it is God Himself, in a state of pure
faith ; it is God hidden, but God all the same ; it is
God Who is trying our love ; it is no longer God Who
is charming our taste and sparing our weakness.
We must experience the vicissitude of these two
states, that we may not rest too much in the one, nor
be discouraged too much by the other. We must be
detached from the one, and constant in the other. We
must be indifferent to both of them, and must not
change with all these changes. We must believe that
we cannot obtain this consoling delight of ourselves : it
is God alone Who gives it, how and when He pleases.
We must suffer ourselves to be deprived of it, and make
to God the sacrifice of His gifts, when He takes them
away, as a faithful wife would allow herself patiently
to be deprived of the jewels and caresses of her
husband, to be conformed to his will. It is far more
perfect to hold fast to the God Who is humbling,

202 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
despoiling, and trying us, than to cleave to a God Who
is enriching, charming, and caressing us.
Leave your faults alone : it is sufficient to see them
when the light discloses them, and not to spare yourself
then in your efforts to correct them. Your temptations
will turn to your benefit. A real union with God, which
is a simple and humble love, diminishes our imperfec
tions. Remain then united to God, and bear all He
sends you in the way of crosses and trials.
104. (135O
That we must receive, with equal tranquillity, consolation
or desolation, as it may please God.
God loves you, because He has so much jealousy
with regard to you, and takes care to make you feel
even the least faults that you commit. When you are
conscious of some fault that unfits you for prayer, be
content with humbling yourself under the hand of God,
and receiving this interruption of sensible graces as a
penance that you have deserved. After that, remain in
peace ; do not seek, through self-love, for the pleasure
that comes to you from the society of good people who
honour you ; but also do not be scrupulous about
receiving this consolation when Providence sends it to
you. Drop the extreme sensitiveness which you feel
in such consolations. It is enough if your will does
not give itself up to them, and if 3'ou are sincerely
determined to do without them whenever they cease.
You wish to know what God requires of you on this
point ; and I reply to you that God wishes you to take
what comes, and not to run after that which does not
present itself. Receive with simplicity all that is given
you, looking at God alone in all these things, Who

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 203
gives them to you to help your weakness and bear
with faith the deprivation of all things, when God
takes them from you to detach you. When you are
able to take thus equally all the inequalities of men
towards you, which God permits expressly to try you
by these kinds of shocks, you will see that such con
solations will no longer take hold of you to such a
degree as to distract you and trouble your prayer, and
also that the deprivation of them will no longer be a
cause of discouragement and vexation to you.
Do not give up your two regular times of prayer,
morning and evening. They are but short : you will
easily pass them, half the time in weariness and
involuntary distractions ; half, in returning to your
occupation with God. For the rest of the day,
abandon yourself to recollection, in proportion as you
find yourself drawn to it. You must only limit this
in two ways : one is, not to allow it to unfit you for any
of your exterior duties ; the other is, to take care that
such recollection does not gradually exhaust your head,
and does not insensibly undermine your very delicate
health. Walk in confidence and without fear. Fear freezes
up the heart ; confidence expands it : fear is the
torment of slaves; the love of confidence is the
devotion of children.
With regard to your miseries, you must accustom
yourself to see them with a sincere condemnation of
them, without being discouraged or made impatient.
And if you wish to labour in peace at the work of self-
correction, keep your heart as much as possible in the
calm of prayer, and in the familiar presence of God,
during the day.

204 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

105- (136.)
That our thinking but little about ourselves perfects our
watchfulness in self -correction, instead of excluding
it. That God must be loved with a pure love.
I quite understand that all your troubles come from
your wishing to judge too much about yourself, and
from your judging by a misleading symptom, which is
your state of feeling. As soon as you do not find a
certain relish and a sensible attraction in prayer, at once
you are tempted to discouragement. As you are in a
solitude that is dry and melancholy and wearisome,
you have scarcely anything else to sustain you but the
pleasure of enjoying your piety ; therefore it is not
surprising that you should be cast down as soon as
this support happens to fail you.
Do 3'ou wish to be at peace? Think less of
yourself, and a little more of God. Do not judge
yourself, but allow yourself to be judged with an
entire submission of spirit, by him whom you have
chosen to guide you. It is true that we are often
thinking about ourselves without wishing it, and that
our imagination often draws us into this painful
occupation : but I do not ask the impossible from
you ; I confine myself to wishing that you should
not be occupied with yourself from choice, and that
you should not voluntarily undertake to judge of your
state by your own light. As soon as you perceive
within yourself this occupation and this judging, turn
away from it at once as you would from a temptation,
and do not make that voluntary, by continuing in it
with deliberate consent, which only began by a pure
surprise of the imagination.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 205
Moreover, do not think that this conduct, which
I am advising you to follow, will prevent you from
practising vigilance over yourself, such as Jesus Christ
in the Gospel recommends us to practise. The most
perfect way of watching over ourselves is to watch
in the sight of God against the delusions of self-love.
Now, one of the most dangerous delusions of self-love
is to pity ourselves, to be incessantly taken up with
the thought of self, to be occupied about ourselves with
an eager and uneasy occupation, which troubles us,
which drys up our heart and contracts it, which
takes us out of the presence of God, and finally,
which makes us judge ourselves until we fall into
discouragement. Say as St. Paul said : Neither do
I judge my own self ; if) you will watch all the better
over your faults to correct them, and over your duties
to fulfil them, although you may not be voluntarily
taken up with these uneasy occupations of self-love.
It will be for the love of God that you will give
up, in a simple and peaceful manner, all that His
watchful and jealous love will show you to be imperfect
and unworthy of the Beloved. You will labour to
correct yourself without impatience and without the
vexation of self-love against your own weaknesses.
You will bear with yourself humbly, without flattering
yourself. You will allow yourself to be judged, and
you will do nothing but obey.
This conduct conduces far more to the death to self,
than if we follow all the refinements, the vexations and
the impatiences of self-love with regard to perfection.
Moreover, it is to make a false rule for judging
ourselves, if we judge by the feelings that we find
within ourselves. God only asks of us that which is
in our own power ; it is precisely our will that is in our
(") 1 Cor. iv. 3.

206 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
own power. Feeling is not in our own power; we
can neither give it to ourselves, or take it away, as
we please. The most hardened sinners have sometimes
good emotions, in spite of themselves. The greatest
saints have been violently tempted by corrupt feelings
for which they had the utmost horror. These feelings
have even served to humble, to mortify and to purify
them. Power, says St. Paul, is made perfect in infirmity. (a)
It is not then our feelings, it is our consent that makes
us guilty. Why, then, do you think you are far from God,
when you cannot enjoy Him ? Know that He is quite
near those who are in trouble and desolation. You
cannot obtain this sensible relish by your own industry.
What is it you wish to love ? Is it the pleasure of love,
or the Beloved One ? If it is only the pleasure of love
that you seek, it is your own pleasure, and not that of
God, which is the object of your desires. We often
deceive ourselves in the spiritual life. We imagine
we are seeking God, and we are only seeking ourselves
in the worship of God. We only give up the pleasures
of the world, to obtain for ourselves a refined pleasure
in devotion ; and as we only cleave to God for the sake
of the delight we find in Him, we cleave to Him no
more when the source of our delight dries up. We
must never deprive ourselves of this delight by a
voluntary seeking after other pleasures which would
make us unworthy of this one: but yet, when this
delight fails us, we must continue to love without it,
and we must place all our consolation in serving God
at our own expense, in spite of the repugnance we may
feel. Oh, how pure love is, when it perseveres without
any sensible delight ! Oh, how all is advancing, when
(") 2 Cor. xii. 9.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 207

we are tempted to think that all is lost ! Oh, how
much greater is the love that suffers on Calvary, than
the love that is inebriated with delights on Thabor!
We can scarcely rely upon a soul that has not yet been
weaned from the milk of spiritual consolations.
I do not wish you to be a wise, strong, and virtuous
lady in great things ; I wish everything to be very
small. Be a good little child.

106. (137-)
How we ought to behave, amidst the vicissitudes of the
spiritual life.
We must suppose that there is a great deal o
imagination, of feeling, and even of the sensitiveness
of self-love mixed up with our prayer. From thence it
comes that we are as it were intoxicated, when our
imagination presents us with beautiful pictures and
corresponding feelings of pleasure ; and we are dis
couraged as soon as these pictures and delightful
feelings fail us ; but this confidence in a good time, and
discouragement in a bad, are nothing but pure illusion.
We ought neither to exalt ourselves when prayer is
sweet, nor to be cast down when it becomes dry and
dark. The groundwork of prayer remains always the
same, provided we have always the same determination
of being united to God, without being elated by sensible
graces, or depressed when we are deprived of them.
God, by such sensible gifts, sometimes consoles our
imagination ; He thus aids our mind, and sustains our
will that is so weak and ready to succumb. He also
fairly often takes away this help to prevent us from
appropriating it to ourselves by a vain confidence, and
to accustom us to His presence in spite of distractions

208 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and dryness. Prayer is never so pure, as when we
continue in it from fidelity, without pleasure or relish.
It is true, that if this sense of the presence of God is-
made easy to you by the methodical consideration of
certain special truths, you must apply yourself to these
truths, that you may nourish your heart with them ;
but if these truths do not serve to render the presence
of God more easy to you, and if they only cause you a
scrupulous uneasiness, you will only be paying attention
to your own self, and so will but hamper and confuse
your soul.
It is not in your own power to disperse involuntary
distractions, or weariness, or repugnance, or obscurity.
That which does depend upon your own efforts, of
course always helped by the grace of God, is to have
patience in this weariness, and to return quietly to the
presence of God, as soon as you are conscious of being
surprised by these distractions ; and also to have
fidelity enough to remain united to God without sensible
pleasure, by a dry and bare act of the will.
Pass over your thoughts of vain complacency, as
well as those of discouragement, and go always steadily
on your way. The tempter only wishes to stop you ;
by not stopping, you overcome temptation in a simple
and peaceful manner.

107. (138.)
That we must remain faithful in desolation, to live the
true life of Jesus Christ in God.
You must not doubt that your health is very precious
to me. But what is still dearer to me, is your fidelity
to God. It is not a question of the sweetness and
consolation we might wish to enjoy by serving Him.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 20g
It does not even depend upon our own labour always
to obtain a sensible fervour. Although we must never
draw this deprivation upon ourselves by the least dissi
pation or voluntary negligence, yet we must do without
these helps that are so consoling, and go on with
humble patience, in the midst of darkness and dryness,
when God sends them to us. It is even a great source
of profit for a soul that is constant in good, to see
all its poverty and powerlessness. It is much more
important for us to feel our misery and have recourse
to God, than to enjoy a consolation which might tempt
us to vain complacency.
O my dear child, the whole of the Christian life
consists in dying to self, that we may live to God.
We must therefore die continually to all the secret and
flattering lives of self-love. We must be jealous against
self-love, for the sake of the love of God. We must
execute ourselves from one moment to another, by
preferring the will of God to our natural inclinations.
This is the true antidote against delusion in the spiritual
life. We only go astray under fine pretexts of perfec
tion, when we seek after that which flatters us instead
of pleasing God, and when we wish to accommodate our
piety to our own arrangements, instead of subjugating
all our inclinations to the Cross of Jesus Christ. A life
which resists God is a false and painful life ; on the
contrary, a death which yields to God is a death of
peace and of union with the true Life. This blessed
death is a life hidden with Jesus Christ in God, and
the life of worldly consolations is a deceptive life.
O my dear child, let us die to all things, in order that
Jesus Christ alone may live in us.

210 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

108. (139.)
The kind of fear which offends God. On the usefulness
of a misery that humbles us.
Fear nothing : you do a great injury to God, when
you doubt of His goodness ; He knows better what is
necessary for you, and what you are able to bear, than
you do yourself; He will never allow you to be tempted
beyond your strength. Once more I say, fear nothing,
O soul of little faith !
You see, by the experience of your weakness,
how completely you ought to be undeceived about
yourself and your best resolutions. If we were to judge
by the feelings of zeal that we sometimes have, we
might think that nothing would be able to stop us ;
nevertheless, after having said with St. Peter : Though
I should die with Thee this night, I will not deny Thee, if)
we finish, as St. Peter did, by being afraid of a
servant-maid, and by shamefully denying our Saviour.
Oh, how weak we are ! But in proportion as our
weakness is deplorable, so is our experience of it useful
to us, to take away from us all reliance upon ourselves
or the resources within us. A misery that we feel, and
that humbles us, is worth far more to us than an
angelic virtue which we appropriate to ourselves with
complacency. Be then weak and discouraged if God
permits it, but be humble, candid, and docile in your
discouragement. You will laugh one day at the terrors which grace
gives you now, and you will thank God for all that I
have said to you, without any regard for prudence, to
make you renounce your timid wisdom.
(") Matt. xxvi. 35.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 211
109. (14O.)
On the languor of the sold; its source and remedy.
My life is sad and dry as my body is ; but I am in
a weary peace which I cannot express to you. The
centre of my soul is sick, and cannot move without
a dull pain. All sensibility only comes from self-love ;
we only suffer because we still desire. If we no longer
desired anything but the will of God alone, we should
always be satisfied, and everything else would be like
black bread presented to a man who had just come
from a grand feast. If the present will of God were
sufficient for us, we should not extend our desires and
curiosity to the future. God will do His own will, and
He will not do ours : and He will do very well. Let
us abandon to Him, not only all our human desires,
but also all our wishes for His glory, that is to say,
according to our ideas. We must follow Him in pure
faith, groping our way. Whoever wishes to see clearly,
desires, reasons, fears, and hopes for himself and for
those who belong to him. We must have eyes as
though we had them not : and even then, they only
serve to deceive and trouble us. Happy will be the
day, when we no longer wish to foresee the morrow !
no. (141O
That we must bear patiently our desolations, and the
sight of our miseries.
I am very much touched at the picture you give me
of your state. It is a very painful one ; but it will be
very useful to you, if you follow out the designs of God
In the midst of it. Obscurity serves to exercise pure

212 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
faith, and to strip the soul of all things. Distaste for
the things of God, which you are now experiencing,
is only a trial, and all that we do in this state is so-
much the more pure because we do it neither from
inclination nor pleasure : we go against the wind by
dint of hard rowing.
As for the state you tell me of, which seems quite
natural, I am not at all astonished about it. God can
only hide His grace from us under the appearance of
nature. . Everything sensible is conformable to the
outbursts of the natural temperament, and the gift of
God is but in the innermost and most secret depth of
a will that is quite dry and quite desolate. To suffer
patiently, to go on in spite of suffering, and to remain
in peace in the midst of this painful darkness, is all
that is necessary. Even the most real faults can be
turned into means of death and disappropriation,
provided we look at them simply and humbly, with
detachment from our own light, and with docility
towards the person in whom we confide.
You have nothing to fear but your own spirit, which
might give you an artfulness, which you might not even
perceive yourself, in secretly furthering the aims of your
self-love : but as you are sincerely on your guard
against yourself, and as you are only seeking to die to
yourself in all good faith, I expect that all will go well.
Your troubles will serve to humble your courage, and
to detach you from your own heart ; the sight of your
miseries will bring down your wisdom from its pedestal.
You must only console yourself and spare yourself in
your temptations to discouragement, just as you would
console another weak person who needed consolation,
and give him time to breathe.
Your temperament is melancholy and lively at the
same time : you must take this into consideration, and

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 213
never allow your imagination to be too much saddened ;
but it needs consolations of simplicity and humility,
not of pride and human wisdom, which flatter self-
love. The more you give yourself up without measure, to
forsake yourself and to lose all possession of yourself,
so much the more will God take possession of you, in
His own way, which will never be yours. Once more,
let everything pass, darkness, uncertainty, miseries,
fears, sensibilities, discouragement ; amuse yourself,
without becoming engrossed in your amusement ;
receive all your friends give you that is good, as
an unhoped-for benefit, which only passes to you
through their hands, and which in reality God sends
you. As to things that shock and distress you, look
upon them as arising from the faults of others, and
bear with their faults as you bear with your own. You
will never have any disappointment, if you never rely
too much on any of your friends. The love of God can
never be mistaken ; it is only self-love which can be
disappointed. The great mark of a heart without
appropriation, is to see it without tenderness for itself,
and full of indulgence for others.
I agree, that perfect simplicity would be an excellent
custom with our good people ; but simplicity demands
in its practice a profound death on the part of all the
persons who compose a society. Now, the imperfect
are imperfectly simple ; they take offence unreasonably,
they criticize, they wish to foretell things, they censure
with indiscreet zeal, they are a restraint upon the
others : insensibly, their natural faults creep in under
the guise of simplicity.

214 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

III. (142.)
On the advantages of crosses, and of the state of obscurity
in which God leaves us.
You have many crosses to bear ; but you have need
of them, since God gives them to you. He knows
well bow to choose them ; it is this choice of His that
baffles self-love, and undermines it. Crosses that we
choose for ourselves and carry with appropriation, far
from being the means of death to us, would only be
food and dainties for a life of self-love.
You complain of a state of interior poverty and
darkness : Blessed are the poor in spirit ! (<*) Blessed are
they that have not seen, and have believed ! (f) Do we
not see quite enough, if we see our own misery without
excusing it ? To see our darkness, is to see all that
is necessary. In this state, we have no light to flatter
our curiosity, but we have all the light we need, to
make us distrust ourselves, not listen to ourselves, and
be docile to others. If it were otherwise, what would
it be but a virtue which we should see in ourselves
and be satisfied with ? What would it be, but a
perceptible light, by which we should take pleasure
in guiding ourselves? I give thanks to our Lord
that He has taken away from you so dangerous a
support. Go, as Abraham went, not knowing whither he
went; (*') follow only the spirit of humility, of simpli
city, and of renunciation : it will inspire you with
nothing but peace, recollection, gentleness, detachment,
forbearance with your neighbour and contentment in
the midst of your troubles.
(") Matt, v, 3. (') John xx. 29. {•) Hebr. xi. 8.

TRIALS AND VICISSITUDES OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 215

112. (143.)
That we must habitually cleave to God, in peace and
fidelity, without being turned away from Him by all
our involuntary distractions.
Walk in the darkness of faith and in evangelical
simplicity, without dwelling upon inclinations, or feel
ings, or lights of the reason, or extraordinary gifts.
Be satisfied with believing, obeying, and dying to your
self, according to the state of life in which God has
placed you.
You must not be discouraged at your involuntary
distractions, which only arise from the liveliness of
your imagination, and from a habit of thinking about
your affairs. It is enough if you do not give occasion
for such distractions, which come to you during prayer,
by giving way to voluntary dissipation in the course of
the day. We sometimes open our hearts too much ;
we do even our good works with too much eagerness
and activity ; we follow too much our inclinations and
consolations : and then God punishes us for it in
prayer. We' must accustom ourselves to act in peace,
and with a constant dependence upon the spirit of
grace, which is a spirit of death to all the most secret
lives of self-love.
Habitual intention, which is the turning of our
heart towards God, is sufficient : it is to walk in the
presence of God. Events would not find you in this
disposition, if you were not in it already. Remain in
peace in this disposition, and do not lose that which
you have within your soul, by going out of 3'our way
after that which you will not find. I have to add that
we must never neglect, through dissipation, to have

2l6 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
a more distinct intention ; but even an intention that
is not distinct and developed is good. The peace of
the heart is a good sign, when we wish besides, in
good faith, to obey God through love, with jealousy
against self-love.
Profit by your imperfections to be detached from
self, and to be attached to God alone. Labour to
acquire virtues, not that you may seek a dangerous
self-complacency in them, but that you may do the
will of the Beloved of your soul.
Remain in your simplicity, cutting short all those
uneasy reflections upon yourself which self-love will
incessantly bring forward under fine pretences : they
will only trouble your peace, and lay snares for you.
When we are leading a recollected, mortified life of
dependence upon God, from a true desire of loving
Him, the delicacy of such a love will reproach us
interiorly with anything that offends or wounds it.
We must stop short at once, as soon as we feel this
wound and this reproach in our heart. Once more
I say, remain in peace.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 217
COUNSELS ON THE PRACTICE OF HUMILITY AND SELF-
RENUNCIATION, AND OF RESIGNATION UNDER CROSSES.
II3- (144.)
That we must suffer with patience and courage in
domestic troubles.
I take a very great interest, sir, in all your domestic
troubles, and I understand that they must be very
great ; but you know that the Cross was made for us,
and we for it. It is our place to remain peacefully
fastened there with Jesus Christ, even to the last breath
of our life. It would be glorious for us to be patiently
on it for a while, if only we could descend from our
cross before the end ; but to be nailed there and to
expire there, it is this that is so terrible. It is only at
our last moment that we can say : All is finished.
I beg of N  to make as little reflection as she can
upon all those things which only trouble her peace
and keep her back, by throwing her into a restless
occupation with herself, which is a real temptation.
As for yourself, sir, take courage : Sustine sustentationes
Dei — "Wait on God with patience." (<") All our piety is
nothing but imagination, if we are not content when
God strikes us, and if, as a kind of dainty, we seek for
hope in a future time of this life to console us. Our
detachment from this world cannot be too absolute and
too practical. 114. (145O
On the advantages of allowing ourselves to be humbled.
I often pray God to hold you in His hand. The
essential point is humility. There is nothing that
(") Ecclesi. ii. 3.

2l8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
humility cannot put straight, because it makes us
docile, and docility reforms everything. You would
be more guilty than another person, if you were to
resist God in this matter. On the one hand, you have
received more light and grace than others have, to
allow yourself to be humbled : on the other hand, no
one has experienced more than you have, things that
ought to humble the heart, and take away all confidence
in self. The great fruit of an experience of our weak
ness is to make us humble and pliable. I hope that
our Lord will take care of you, and I will earnestly beg
of Him[to do so. 115. (146.)
What suffering ought to be, if we wish to preserve
peace therein.
As for N  , I pray our Lord to give her a sim
plicity, which will be a source of peace for her. When
we are faithful in giving up at once all superfluous and
restless reflections, which come from a love of ourselves
that is very different from charity, we shall be at our
ease in the midst of the narrow way ; and without
failing in our duty to God or man, we shall be in the
pure liberty and in the innocent peace of the children
of God. I take to myself, sir, the advice I give to others,
and I see well that I also ought to seek peace where
I propose to them to seek it. My heart is suffering.
It is the life of self-love that makes us suffer ; that
which is dead feels no longer. If we were dead, and
if our life were hid with Christ in God,(a) as the Apostle
says, we should no longer have the suffering of mind
that we feel now. We should still feel the pains of our
(") Colos. iii. 3.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 2lg

bodies, such as fever and gout ; we might also suffer
from spiritual pains, that is to say, from pains imprinted
on the soul without her having any part in causing
them : but as for those pains of restlessness, in which
the soul adds to the cross imposed by the hand of God,
an agitation of resistance, and, so to speak, a non-
willingness to suffer, we only have this kind of pain to
bear in proportion as we are still living to ourselves.
A cross that is given entirely by God, and fully
accepted by our will, without any uneasy reflections
while we are carrying it, is at the same time a -painful
and a peaceful cross. On the contrary, a cross that
is not fully and simply accepted by our will, and that
our life in ourselves makes us reject ever so little, is
a double cross ; it is still more a cross by the vain
resistance which the soul offers to it, than by the
impression of pain which it necessarily makes. Suffering
and peace are marvellously intermingled in Purgatory.
We suffer nothing there but from the hand of God ; the
resistance of the will has no part in that pain. Oh,
happy is he who can suffer in that simple peace of
full acquiescence, or of perfect non-resistance ! Nothing
shortens and softens our sufferings so much as to
receive them thus.
But generally we try to bargain with God ; we
wish always to set limits for Him, and to see the end of
our troubles. The same depth of obstinate and hidden
life which makes the cross necessary for us, makes us
also half push it away from us by little secret thrusts,
and thus retard the consummation of its work. Thus,
the work has always to be begun over again : we suffer,
and we never finish the work for which we are suffering.
I pray our Lord, that we may not fall, either you or
I, into this state of languor, in which the cross does
not turn to our profit. St. Paul says that God loveth a

220 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
cheerfid giver ; (<*) if this is said of him who gives
material alms, how much more will God love him who
gives cheerfully his whole will, and abandons himself
to the crucifying operations of Divine grace.

116. (147.)
On the happiness of bearing the Cross.
I cannot prevent myself from admiring the virtues
of the Cross : we are worth nothing without it. It
makes me tremble and convulses me, as soon as I begin
to feel it ; and all that I have said of its salutary
operations vanishes away before the agony it brings to
my inmost heart. But as soon as it gives me time to
breathe, I open my eyes again, I see that it is admirable,
and I am ashamed to have been so overwhelmed by
it. The experience of this inconsistency is a deep
lesson for me.
In whatever state your invalid may be, and what
ever consequences God may give to her illness, she is
blessed in being so resigned in His hands. If she
dies, she dies in the Lord ; if she lives, she lives to
Him. Aut pati, aut mori — " Either to die, or to suffer." [f)
Nothing is higher than the Cross, except the perfect
reign of God; and indeed, when we suffer with love,
His reign has begun in us, and we must be contented
with that, as long as God defers the consummation.
You need the Cross as much as I do. The faithful
distributor of gifts has allotted our portion to us well.
May He be blessed for ever. Oh, how good He is, to
chastise us for our correction !
(") 2 Cor. ix. 7. (') Words of St. Teresa.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 221
117. (I48.)
That we should suffer in this world, as the souls in
Purgatory suffer.
I have nothing to reply to you upon anything
concerning you ; I see nothing to add to the things
which God Himself shows you, and which it is most
important that you should follow perseveringly. Go
on always dying more and more to self. Death is a
much more real death when others give it to us.
Remain in the state of dependence in which God has
placed you ; it serves to decide things for you, to take
you out of your own wisdom, and to humble you, you
whose natural inclination was to lead others. But do
not cease to tell others your simple thoughts, as they
arise in your heart, without reflection or precautions.
I take an interest in all your crosses, and my heart
is moved to compassion for you all, in your mutual
crucifixion. It seems to me that I am closely united to
all those who suffer in our Lord. Judge from that how
much I am touched at hearing of the state of N  .
Sufferings are only given to us for our advancement.
When God wishes to make haste, and to do a great
work in a short time, He makes us suffer very much,
and He redoubles His severe blows. Oh, how full they
are of love, and how they spare us, even when they
seem to crush us pitilessly !
The Cross is a holy relic which we ought to treasure.
Love without the Cross would be a kind of enchantment,
and would turn into delusion ; but the Cross brings
down completely all our fine feelings, all our proud
ideas, all our consoling fervours. Oh, how little
we are, when we suffer, when we suffer long, and
when we find it very difficult to suffer !

222 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Suffering is a purgatory of mercy in this world.
But who is it that suffers like the souls whom God
purifies in the other world ? Who is it that suffers
as they do, without moving under the hand of God,
without seeking any relief, and without impatience,
waiting for their deliverance without making any effort
to shorten their time of trial, with a peaceful love which
increases from day to day, with a pure joy in the midst
of all that is most painful, finally, with a humility and
simplicity so deep, that while they are suffering, they
do not think they are sacrificing anything to God ?
Let us try to found such a Purgatory as this in this
world, as people found hospitals.

Il8. (149.)
On the perils of activity and dissipation of the mind.
No one can be more touched than I am, sir, by the
very kind letter 3'ou have taken the trouble to write to
me ; I see your heart in it, and I appreciate it. I hope
that God will preserve you in the midst of the contagion
of the world. The principal thing for you, sir, is to
distrust your quick adaptation to the company you
happen to be in, and your natural activit3'. You have
more inclination for dissipation than others have ; and
as soon as 3'ou are dissipated, you are weakened. As
your strength can only be in God alone, it is not
astonishing if your strength fails you as soon as you
fail in your duty to God. It is quite enough that God
should support us when we do not stray away from
Him ; but He must allow our fall in some way when
we do not fear to fall, and when we rashly withdraw
ourselves from His help. We can hope for no resource
against our weakness, but in recollection and prayer. -

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 223
You have more need than others have of this help ;
you have naturally a quick adaptiveness which is soon
interested and excited, your vivacity and your natural
activity throwing you incessantly outside yourself.
Beside that, you have an open and genial manner
which pleases people and prejudices every one in your
favour ; there is nothing so dangerous as this gift of
pleasing all men ; self-love is charmed with it, and
this charm poisons the heart. We begin b3' amusing
ourselves and flattering ourselves, then we go on
to dissipation, and we feel all our good resolutions
vanish away ; then we become intoxicated with our
selves and the world, that is to say, with pleasure and
vanity. Then we find ourselves at an infinite distance
from God ; we have no longer the courage to return
to Him ; we dare not even dream of doing such violence
to ourselves. You have no other resource, sir, but in being on
your guard against dissipation. I beg of you to give
every morning a short quarter of an hour to some
spiritual book on which you will meditate with liberty
of spirit, simplicity, and affection, and again a little
time in the evening spent in the same manner. From
time to time during the day, renew your sense of the
presence of God, and your intention of acting for Him ;
humble yourself for your faults ; labour in good faith to
correct yourself of them ; have patience with yourself,
without flattering yourself, just as you would do in the
case of another person ; frequent the sacraments at
regular times. I will pray with all my heart for you.

224 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
119. (150.)
Exhortation to simplicity and Christian childhood.
Oh ! how dear you will both be to me, you and
N  , if what we have said here to each other
makes of us but one heart and one soul ! I do not
repeat it now, not having time to do so, but you will
remember it. It is not to my memory, but to my
heart, that I have confided it. If it has also entered
into your heart, you will pour it faithfully into the
heart of N  . No, my dear friend, no more ambi
tion, no more curiosity or ardour for the things of the
world, no more self-seeking regularity. Let us be
simple, upright, and humble, without as within. Si
spiritu vivimus, spiritu et ambulemus — " // we live in the
Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit." (a)
Let us be wise, but with the wisdom of God, not
with our own wisdom. Oh ! what a bad security is
that which comes from worldly prudence ! Drop all
eagerness, all activity, all dissipation ; you have an
infinite need to do this. Even when we are not
methodically recollected, we ought from simple fidelity
to avoid all that dissipates and distracts us, all that
disturbs our imagination or arouses our natural inclina
tions and desires, all that troubles our peace, our
silence, our humility, and our interior nakedness. We
speak magnificently about the passive state, being all
the while in perpetual activity. We wish for assurances,
for extraordinary lights, and even for the gift of
prophecy, to satisfy us in the obscurity of pure faith.
This is wishing to see the sun at midnight.
Be very humble, very simple, both of you ; let there
be no more either Cephas or Apollos, but the Infant
{<•) Gal. v. 25.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 225
Jesus only, Who will unite us all together in His
Infancy alone. Here is Advent coming ; let us be born
again with Him. A thousand very humble compliments
to M  , but none at all to N  , for I do not wish
any one to be left within her, to whom a compliment
could be addressed. 120. (151.)
That it is only the death of the spirit that can prepare
us well for the death of the body.
I hear, my dear daughter, that your health is not
good, and my heart suffers a sensible grief at this news,
although I wish for you all that God wills, as I do for
myself. I am quite sure that you acquiesce in all, and
that instead of giving to Him, you let Him take all that
He pleases. We can only give what is our own, and
that is what you do not wish to have in this world ; but
a servant lets his master take from him the whole or a
part of that which his master has confided to him. Do
the same with the life of your body. My soul is con
tinually in my hands. (a) Let it pass into the hands of
God, according to His will. Oh ! how we are living
in the life that is hidden with Jesus Christ in God,
when we are dead to the false life of this earth !
The true life is unknown and incomprehensible to
the senseless world. There are even a multitude of
wise men and semi-devout people who confine their
devotion to looking at death from afar off, with a
certain submission to Providence, without allowing
God to operate in them a deep detachment from this
life. It is only the death of the spirit that prepares us
well for the death of the body. Some people think
often of the death of the body, without suffering their
(") Ps. cxviii. 109. **

226 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
spirit to die ; on the contrary, the death of the spirit
makes us indifferent to the death of the body, even
when we are not directly thinking about it. St. Monica
said to her son Augustine : " My son, there is no longer
anything that pleases me in this life ; I know not what
I am doing here below, nor why I am here, since all
hope in this world is extinguished for me." (a) Behold
a death, after which it costs nothing any more to die.
There is no false life but self-love, there is no true life
but the love of God. In proportion as the love of God
has taken the place of self-love, we are dead to all false
life, and living to the true. There is no true life but in
this happy death.
This is the new man that is renewed from day to day
while the old man is decaying. This do and thou shalt live,
said our Lord Jesus Christ. (f) Let God be the only God
of your heart; let Him break there the idol of self;
think no more of yourself through self-love ; be wholly
occupied with God, as you were formerly with self
under fine pretences. Sacrifice self to God ; then you
will have peace, freedom, and life, in spite of pain,
weakness, and death itself.
Take care of your strength of mind and body. Bear
with yourself humbly. M  is your staff; we carry
the staff that supports us. Why cannot I come to see
you ? But what am I saying ? God brings us near to
each other and unites us together. I am in spirit in
the midst of you all. I pray the Child Jesus to make
you more and more humble. The hidden strength of
Jesus is only in His helpless Infancy, quite naked,
quite poor, quite forsaken.
(") Confess, bk. ix. c. x. (') Luke x. 28.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 227
121. (152.)
How to change evil into good by our patience.
We can change all our ills into good, when we
suffer them patiently for the love of God. On the
contrary, we change all our good things into evil, when
we attach ourselves to them to flatter our self-love.
Our true good only consists in detachment and abandon
ment to God. Now is the time of trial. It is now that
we must keep ourselves in the hands of God, with
confidence and entire union. What would I not give
to see you as soon as possible perfectly cured of your
illness, and still more from the love of this world !
Attachment to self is a hundred times more venomous
than the small-pox. The venom of self-love remains
within us. I pray for you with all my heart.
122. (153.)
How God humbles the soul by the sense of her weakness.
I am shamefully tired of crosses. It seems to me
that I have no more strength or breath remaining to
breathe in my sufferings. The Cross is horrible to me,
and so is my cowardice. Between these two horrors,
I am a burden to myself. I am always trembling with
fear of some new occasion of suffering. To live like
this is not life, but what does it matter ? Our life
ought only to be a slow death. There is nothing to do,
but to abandon ourselves to the all-powerful will that is
crucifying us by degrees.
My heart suffers also at this moment for what you
have told me, and your sufferings increase mine : but it
seems to me that there is in me a depth of self-seeking
and frivolity, of which I am ashamed. The least thing

228 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
that is said overwhelms me, the least thing that flatters
me ever so little, elates me beyond measure. Nothing
is so humiliating as to find one's self so tender to self,
so harsh to others, so cowardly at the sight of the
shadow of a cross, and so frivolous as to be able to
throw off everything at the first glimpse of a flattering
light. But all is good. God opens a strange book for
our instruction, when He makes us read in our own
heart. 123- (i54-)
Upon the same subject.
This sadness which makes you so weary, alarms me
and oppresses my heart. I fear it more for you than
all sensible pains. I know by experience what it is to-
have the heart withered up and disgusted by all that
ought to give it consolation. I am still at certain times
in this state of universal bitterness, and I feel indeed
that if it were to go on without interruption, I could
not stand against it for long.
I have just been giving a mission at Tournai : it all
went off fairly well, and self-love might even have taken
to itself some little consolation ; but in reality, the good
that we do is but little. If we were not sustained by the
spirit of faith, to labour without seeing the fruit of our
labours, we should soon be discouraged; for we make
scarcely any way, either with men to persuade them,
or with ourselves to correct our faults. Oh, what a
distance there is between contempt and weariness of
ourselves, and a real self-correction ! I am to myself
like the whole of a large diocese, more overwhelming
than my diocese without, and which I seem unable to
reform. But we must bear with ourselves without self-
flattery, just as we ought to bear with our neighbour.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 22g

124- (1550
That we must suffer, without losing courage and fidelity,
under the hand of God, all the painful operations
which are to humble us.
It is when you are in trouble and bitterness, that I
appreciate you most. I have seen candour and humility
In your letters, and I thank God for it with emotion.
We must love what God loves, and I do not doubt that
He loves us all the more, when He makes us little by
humbling us. As long as this operation is painful to
you, you may be sure that it is useful and necessary for
you. The surgeon only hurts us when he cuts into the
living flesh. The sick man feels nothing when they
only cut into flesh that is already dead. If you were
dead to all those things of which you speak to me, their
being cut away from you would cause you no pain.
Detach yourself completely from all things, if you wish
to be in peace, and to die to yourself. Do not content
yourself with making certain efforts, and with being
humble by fits and starts : abandon yourself without
any reserve to God, to die to yourself as far as He
wills you to die. You require courage, without any
natural courage ; do not lose the great fruits of your
present cross. Submit yourself, not only to N  to
allow yourself to be reproved, but even to the most
insignificant people, who may take it upon themselves
to give you advice, in or out of season. If such advice
is not good for those who give it in a spirit of indiscreet
criticism, it will always be excellent for you, if you
receive it in a spirit of disappropriation and death.
As to your faults, bear them with patience, as you
bear the faults of your neighbour, without flattering

230 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
them or excusing them. You must not wish to keep
them, since they are displeasing to God; but you
must feel how powerless you are to overcome them,
and you must profit by the humiliation they cause you
in your own eyes, to despair of yourself. Until we
attain to this despair of nature, nothing can be done.
But we must never despair of the goodness of God to
us, and we must only distrust ourselves. The more
we despair of ourselves, and hope only in God for the
correction of our faults, the more the work of correction
will advance.
But also, we must not rely upon God without
working hard on our own part. Grace only labours
fruitfully in us, in proportion as it makes us labour
with it, without relaxation. We must watch, we
must do violence to ourselves, we must fear to flatter
ourselves, we must listen with docility to the most
humiliating advice, and only think we are faithful to
God, in proportion to the sacrifices we make every day
with a view to dying to ourselves.

125. (156.)
That we must allow ourselves to be judged ; and correct
ourselves by following in all things the spirit of grace.
It is for N  to allow himself to be judged by the
persons who know him, and who are united to him in
the same way of perfection. It is not enough for us to
believe that of which we have experience ; we must
believe everything, although we do not see it, and must
think it true. I expect that it is from want of attention
that N  does not see it himself. The chief point
remains, which is for him to correct himself; this is
what he is to labour at in a suitable manner : he must

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 231
do it with peace, simplicity, and humility. God grant
that he may do it as I say !
I think that he ought not to make use of activity
for his correction, but that it ought to come from
a simple fidelity to the attraction of each moment,
without his forming projects or employing set methods.
It is sufficient for him to remain in a certain state of
peace, in which the spirit of grace makes him perceive
any merely natural movements of his own spirit and
any secret seeking after his own satisfaction.

126. (157O
On the complete sacrifice of self-love, by a continual
abandonment of ourselves into the hands of God.
N  will tell you how much I am thinking about
you, and with what pleasure I hear that you are in
peace. Oh, what a great sacrifice is simplicity ! it is
the martyrdom of self-love. To listen no more to
ourselves, this is true abnegation. We would rather
suffer the most cruel torments. Ten years of corporal
austerities would be nothing in comparison with this
curtailment of the jealousies and refinements of self-
love, which is always so curious about itself.
This abandonment of ourselves would be the greatest
of all supports, if it were perceived with certainty:
but it would cease to be abandonment, if we were sure
about it ; it would be instead, the richest and most
flattering possession of ourselves. It is necessary,
therefore, that the abandonment which really gives
us all things should hide everything from us and be
hidden itself. Then, this apparent total deprivation
of all things gives us in reality all that it takes away
from our self-love. This is because the only treasure

232 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
of the heart is detachment. Whoever is detached from
all things and from himself also, finds all things and
himself also in God. The love of God is enriched with
all that grasping self-love loses.
Live and die then every day on the dunghill with ¦
Job. Jesus Christ has enriched us, as St. Paul says,(a)
not with visible and dazzling riches, but with His
poverty alone. We would like to wear stuffs of gold,
but all that is necessary for us is the nakedness of
Jesus Christ upon the Cross, or His garments torn
into many pieces, and given up to those who crucified
Him. I say this very easily — I, who seek for rest and
consolation; I, who fear pain and suffering; I, who
cry out loudly as soon as God cuts into the quick ; but
indeed it is the truth that condemns me, and to this
condemnation I agree, with all my heart, if I do not
deceive myself. Do you do the same.
127. (158.)
On abandonment to the will of God alone and
detachment from all the rest.
I enter into your troubles. Wl^ cannot I do
something more ! We must imitate the faith of
Abraham, and go on without knowing whither. We
only go astray when we propose an end to ourselves of
our own choice. He who desires nothing but the simple
will of God, will find that everywhere, whichever way
Providence may turn him, and consequently, he will
never go astray. True abandonment, having no way
of its own, and no wish for its own satisfaction, goes
always straight on, as God pleases. The straight way
(") 2 Cor. viii. 9.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 233
is to renounce ourselves, in order that God alone may
be all, and we may be nothing.
I hope that He, Who feeds the little birds, will take
care of you. Happy is he, who like Jesus Christ,
has not where to rest his head ! When we have given
ourselves up to interior poverty, ought we to fear
exterior deprivations ? Be faithful to God, and God
will be faithful to His promises. Do honour to religion,
which is so despised, and religion will repay you with
interest. Show to the world a courtier who is living
by pure faith.
Fear your eager vivacity, your inclination for the
world, your secret ambition which glides in without
your perceiving it. Do not be infatuated with certain
subtle and self-seeking conversations or with elegant
witticisms, which will only dissipate you, and indispose
you for recollection and prayer. Speak little ; cut
short your necessary conversations ; labour with method
and perseverance ; put work in the place of fine
speeches. Once more I say to you, the future is not yours ;
perhaps it never will be. Rest in the present ;
eat your daily bread. The morrow will be solicitous for
itself. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof .(f) It is
tempting God when we make provision of manna for
two days, it will only corrupt. You have not to-day
the grace of to-morrow : that will only come when
to-morrow comes. The present moment is a little
eternity for us. (<*) Matt. vi. 34.

234 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
128. (159.)
That we must bear the Cross, and abandon ourselves
to Providence.
No one can be more deeply touched than I am at all
that has happened to you. We must carry the Cross
as a treasure ; it is through the Cross that we are made
worthy of God and conformed to the likeness of His
Son. Crosses are a part of our daily bread. God
regulates the measure of them according to our real
wants, which He knows, and of which we are ignorant.
Let Him do as He wills, and let us resign ourselves into
His hands.
Be a child of Divine Providence. Leave it to your
relations and friends to reason about things. Do not
you think about the future from afar. The manna
was corrupted, when they wished to provide sufficient
for more than one day, out of prudent foresight. Do
not say, What shall we do to-morrow ? The morrow
will be solicitous for itself. (f) Confine yourself to-day
to your present needs ; God will give you each day
the help that is proportioned to that day. Inquirentes
autem Dominum non minuentur omni bono — " They that seek .
the Lord shall not be deprived of any good." {f) Providence
would do miracles for us, but we prevent these miracles
by trying to anticipate them. We make for ourselves,
by our restless industry, a providence as defective as
the providence of God would be certain.
With regard to N  , he loves religion and has
principles of virtue ; but he has need of being nourished
and supported. You must help him, without being a
restraint upon him. You know his lively spirits and
his habits of long years ; you must pass over many
(") Matt. vi. 34. (e) Ps. xxxiii. n.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 235
things in him, which I should not pass over in you.
God knows better than we do, what He has put into
each man, and what He ought to expect from each
man. Spare, support, respect, hope for the character
of N  , and trust in the Master of all hearts, Who is
faithful to His promises. Be faithful and docile your
self. Make your weaknesses profitable, by an infinite
distrust of yourself, and by a child-like pliability in
suffering yourself to be corrected. Humility will be
your strength, even in the midst of weakness.

129. (160.)
Upon the same subject.
I do not doubt that our Lord will always treat you
as one of His friends, that is to say, He will send
you crosses, sufferings, and humiliations. These ways
and means, which God makes use of to draw souls
to Himself, do this work so much better and more
quickly than the creature's own efforts ; for the very
fact of its being God's action alone is destructive to
self-love, and tears up the roots which we cannot even
discover without great difficulty ; but God, Who knows
all the secret-lurking places of self-love, proceeds forth
with to attack it in its stronghold, and upon its own
ground. If we were strong enough and faithful enough to
trust ourselves entirely to God, and to follow Him
simply wherever He wished to lead us, we should have
no need of great application of mind to labour in the
work of our perfection ; but because we are so weak
in faith that we wish to know where we are going,
without trusting to God, — it is this that makes our way

236 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
much longer, and spoils our spiritual affairs. Abandon
yourself as much as you can to God, until your last
breath, and He will never forsake you.
130. (161.)
That we must not act according to our natural
inclination, and must mortify our vivacity.
Follow the way of death in which our Lord has
placed you, and labour to mortify that vivacity of your
natural temperament which influences you in all you
do. Be persuaded that all we do by that which we
are, I mean to say, all that we do in simple accordance
with our natural humour and temperament, as it has
nothing of the supernatural about it, makes all that we
thus do useless for our advancement in the ways of
God. And because His Divine Majesty demands of
the souls He draws to Himself, a return or perpetual
flowing back to our last end (which is Himself), and
to the fulness of our true good, when we act by
ourselves alone and according to our humour, all that
we do is reflected back upon ourselves and remains
there, and God has no part in it.
You see therefore of what importance it is for you
to repress the vivacity of your humours and passions,
and that it is a thing of very little consequence to see
and penetrate into the secrets of the spiritual life, if we
do not put into execution the means that are necessary
for attaining to our last end, which is a real and true
union with God. This does not require any occupation
of the head or the mind, but only the good-will of the
heart, on all occasions that present themselves.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 237

131. (162.)
That we must suffer with resignation, and drink the
chalice of bitterness to the last drop.
I hope, sir, that in your present state of separation
and bitterness, you may find, far from creatures, the
most powerful consolation. God will make you taste
what He is in Himself, when everything else fails.
The length of this trial will serve to harden you against
yourself, and to give you a boundless self-abandonment.
When we give ourselves up to God in a state of
peace and calm, we know not what we wish or what we
are promising Him ; and although our abandonment is
sincere, it is still very superficial ; but, when the chalice
full of bitterness is presented to us, then nature trembles,
we are sad and fearful unto death, as Jesus Christ was
in the Garden of Olives ; we sweat blood and water ;
we say, Let this chalice pass from Me. (f) Happy are those
who stifle this repugnance and this rebellion of nature,
to add, as the Son of God added : Nevertheless, not as
I will, but as Thou wilt. In truth, sir, I should be very
sorry if you were to lose the least drop of the chalice
which God is presenting to you. It is now that you
must exercise your faith and your love. Oh, how much
God loves you, since He strikes you without pity !
Whatever sacrifice He asks of you, never hesitate.
The state of sadness which oppresses your heart,
and the sight of the afflicting object which is always
before your eyes, makes me fear for your health. Take
care of it ; profit by any little consolations that may
come to you : do this with simplicity.
(") Matt. vi. 39.

238 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
132. (163.)
That the will of God ought to be our all.
I wish you the peace of the heart and the joy of the
Holy Spirit, which is found in the midst of all the
crosses and temptations of this life. It is the essential
difference between Babylon and the City of God. An
inhabitant of Babylon, whatever worldly prosperity
may intoxicate him, has a something, I know not what,
at the bottom of his heart, which says to him : It is
not enough ; I have not all that I should like to have,
and I also have that which I do not wish to have.
On the contrary, the inhabitant of the Holy City
carries in the inmost depth of his heart a continual fiat
and a continual amen. He is willing to suffer all his
pains, and he desires none of the consolations of which
God deprives him. If you ask him what he wishes for,
he will answer you that it is precisely for that which
he has. The will of God, from one moment to another,
is his daily bread, which is better than all other food.
He wills all that God wills, in him and for him. This
will of God is the complete satisfaction of his heart ;
it is the manna which contained in itself every taste.
Glorificaveris eum, says the Prophet Isaias,(a) dum non facis
vias tuas, et non invenitur voluntas tua ut loquaris sermonem —
" Thou shalt glorify Him, while Thou dost not thine own ways,
and thine owh will is not found to speak a word." It is also
said of the new Jerusalem : Vocaberis voluntas mea in ea —
"Thou shalt be called, My pleasure in her." (f) The City of
God will henceforth have no other name ; we shall be
unable to conceive her otherwise ; she will henceforth
be nothing of herself. As St. John the Baptist was
only a voice announcing Jesus Christ, so Jerusalem is
(") Isai. lviii. 13. (') Isai. lxii. 4.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 239
nothing more than the pleasure of God alone in her. It is
no longer she who lives and wills ; it is the Spouse
living and willing in His Bride.
What then is His will with regard to you ? It is
that you should no longer have any will of your own,
that you should no longer perceive and feel in yourself
the means of willing, that you should allow God to will
in you all that is in accordance with His Spirit. Qui
autem scrutatur corda, scit quid desideret Spiritus ; quia secun
dum Deum postulat pro Sanctis — "And He that searcheth
the hearts, knoweth what the Spirit desireth, because He asketh
for the saints, according to God." (f) Be then a man of
God's will, vir voluntatis mece. (f) Do not obstruct it
within yourself, by setting any limits to it of your
own will, or your own ideas, or by any arrangement
of your own making.
The greater number of good people, under fine
pretences, do what St. Augustine reproached the Semi-
Pelagians for doing, and that was, to wish that natural
merits should have the precedence, and that grace
should follow nature : gratia pedissequa. We wish that
God should wish what we wish, in order that our own
will may be done in His will. Instead of which, it is
necessary that the will of God should supersede ours,
and that He alone should be all things in us.

133- (164O
On the way to carry our cross well.
Carry your interior crosses in peace. Exterior
crosses without interior ones would cease to be crosses,
they would only be continual victories, with a flattering
experience of our invincible strength. Such crosses
(") Rom. viii. 27. (') Isai. xlvi. 11.

240 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
would poison our heart, and charm our self-love. To
suffer well, we must suffer in weakness, and feel our
weakness ; we must see ourselves without any resources
within ourselves ; we must be on the Cross with Jesus
Christ, and say as He said : My God, My God, why hast
Thou forsaken Me ? (f)
Oh, how precious is the peace of the will, in the
midst of the despair of self-love, in the sight of Him
Who is producing it in us, without allowing us to see
it ! Nourish yourself with those words of St. Augustine,
which are all the more life-giving, because they bring
to the heart a total death to self-love: " Let there be
left in me nothing of myself, nor anything that can still
cast a look upon myself" — Nihil in me relinquatur mihi,
nee quo respiciam ad me ipsum.
Pay no attention to your imagination or the re
flections of human wisdom ; let everything drop, and
remain in the arms of the Beloved of your soul. It is
His will and His glory that should occupy us.

134- (J650
That we must consent to be nothing, and allow self
to be consumed by an ever-extending death.
Be a real nonentity, in all things and everywhere ;
but you must add nothing to this pure nonentity.
There is nothing to take hold of in nothing. It can
lose nothing. The true nonentity never resists, and he
has not a self left with which to occupy himself.
Be nothing, then, and nothing beyond that ; and you
will be everything without thinking that you are.
Suffer in peace ; abandon yourself; go on, as Abraham
(<*) Matt, xxvii. 46.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 24I
did, without knowing where you are going. Receive
from men any consolation which God may wish to give
you through them. It is not from them, but from Him
through them, that you must receive it. Such a wine
must be drunk quite pure, and without being mixed
with anything else ; one drop of water would take away
all its virtue. We lose infinitely, when we wish to
retain any resource of our own. Have no reserves,
I beg of you.
We must love the hand of God that strikes us
and destroys us. The creature was only made to be
unmade and re-made at the good pleasure of Him Who
made it only for Himself. Oh, happy use of our whole
being ! That our nothingness should glorify the Eternal
Being and God Who is all. May that perish, then,
which self-love wishes so much to preserve. Let us
be the holocaust which the fire of Divine love reduces
to ashes. Trouble never comes except from self-love ; Divine
love is nothing but peace and resignation. We have
nothing to do but to suffer, to give up, to lose, to
retain nothing, never to try to stop for one moment
the hand that crucifies us. This non-resistance is
horrible to nature : but God gives it ; the Beloved
softens it to us, He measures all our temptations.
Oh, how beautiful it is to have our purgatory in
this world ! Nature would rather not have it at all,
either in this world or the next ; but God prepares it
for us in this world, and it is we who, by our evasions,
make for ourselves two purgatories instead of one.
We make our purgatory in this world so useless by our
resistance, that it has all to be begun over again after
death. We should be, even in this life, like the souls
in Purgatory, quiet and resigned in the hands of God,
abandoning ourselves to Him, and suffering ourselves **

242 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
to be destroyed by the avenging fire of love. Happy
is he who suffers thus !
I love and respect you more and more, under the
hand that is crushing you for your purification. Oh,
how precious is this state ! The more you find yourself
empty and despoiled of all things, the more you appear
to me filled with God, and the object of His com
placency. When we are fastened to the Cross with
Jesus Christ, we say as He said, My God, My God, why
hast Thou forsaken Me ! But this sensible dereliction,
which is a kind of despair in our lower nature, is the
purest union of the spirit, and the perfection of love.
What does it matter, if God strips us of all relish
and of all sensible and perceptible supports, provided
He does not allow us to fall ? Was not the Prophet
Habacuc well supported, when the Angel transported
him with so much impetuosity from Judea to Babylon,
by holding him by one of his hairs ? {") He went
without knowing where he was going, and without
knowing how he was supported ; he was going to feed
Daniel in the midst of the lions ; he was carried away
by the invisible spirit and by the virtue of faith.
Happy is he who goes thus by a way unknown to
human wisdom, and without touching the earth with
his feet.
You have only to suffer, and to allow yourself to be
consumed gradually in the crucible of Divine love.
What is there to be done ? Nothing ; simply never to
repulse the invisible hand which is destroying and
recasting everything. The farther we advance, the
more we must resign ourselves to entire destruction.
A living heart must be reduced to ashes. We must
die and not see that we are dying ; for a death of
which we were conscious would be the most dangerous
(") Dan. xiv. 35.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 243
of all lives. You are dead, says the Apostle, and your
life is hid with Christ in God. (f) It is necessary that this
death should be hidden, to hide the new life which
this death brings about. We live no longer except by
d3'ing, as St. Augustine says. But how simple, and
without reflections upon ourselves, we must be, to let
this destruction of the old man be completed. I pray
God to make of you a holocaust, which the fire of the
altar may consume entirely.

135. (166.)
That we must live in pure abandonment and simple
resignation to the good pleasure of God.
The sorrow that I feel for the public calamity does
not prevent me from being occupied with your infirmity.
You know that we must bear the Cross, and bear it in
perfect darkness. Pure love seeks neither to see nor
to feel. It is content to suffer without knowing if it is
suffering well, and to love without knowing if it loves.
Oh, how this perfect abandonment, without any
useless reflection upon self or hidden windings of self-
love, is pure and worthy of God! It is of itself more
destructive to self-love than thousands and thousand
of austere virtues sustained by a conscious regularity.
We would fast like St. Simon Stylites, we would remain
for years, as he did, upon a pillar ; we would spend a
hundred years in the desert, like St. Paul the Hermit ;
what would we not like to do, that was marvellous and
worthy to be written about, rather than to lead a
uniformly simple life, which is a total and continual
death, in simple resignation to the good pleasure of
God ! Live, then, in this death ; let it be your sole
(") Coloss. iii. 3.

244 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
daily bread. I am giving you the same that I am>
resolved to eat with you.
Be simple, and like a little child. It is in childhood
that an unchangeable peace, proof against all trial,
dwells. Every state of regularity, in which we possess
the consciousness of our virtue, is subject to illusion
and disappointment. It is only a virtue that is unknown
and never relied upon, which is subject to no miscalcu
lation. It is only those souls that are disappropriated
by the abnegation of the Gospel, that have nothing
more to lose. It is those only who seek for no light,
that are never deceived. It is only the little children
who find in God a wisdom, that is not in the great and
wise men, whom the world admire.

136. (167.)
That we must allow nature to expire, in deprivation
and

Everything contributes to try you ; but God, Who
loves you, will not permit you to be tempted beyond
your strength. He will make use of the temptation for
your advancement. But we must not seek curiously
to see in ourselves either our advancement, or our
strength, or the hand of God, which is assisting us no
less when it is quite invisible.
Indeed it is in hiding itself that it performs its
principal operation; for we should never die to
ourselves, if He showed us clearly this hand that is
always ready to help us. In that case, God would
be sanctifying us in light and life, and would be
clothing us with all kinds of spiritual adornments ;
but He would not be sanctifying us upon the Cross,
in darkness, in desolation, in nakedness, and in

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 245
death. Jesus Christ did not say : If any one will come
after Me, let him possess himself, let him clothe and
adorn himself, let him intoxicate himself with consola
tions, as St. Peter was intoxicated upon Mount Thabor,
let him enjoy Me and himself also in the contempla
tion of his own perfection, let him perceive his own
condition, and let everything tend to reassure him,
when he sees how perfect he is. But on the contrary,
Jesus Christ said : If any man will come after Me,{f)
this is the way by which he must pass : let him deny
himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me, in the
path that is surrounded with precipices, and in which
he will see nothing but death. St. Paul says that we
would be clothed upon,{f) and that on the contrary, we
must be stripped of all things, until, in our perfect
nakedness, we are afterwards clothed with Jesus Christ.
Suffer yourself then to be despoiled even of the last
ornaments of self-love, and even to the last veils in
which it tries to hide itself, that you may receive the
robe that is made white only with the Blood of the
Lamb, and that has no other purity but His own.
Oh ! too happy is the soul, that has no longer any
thing of its own, not even anything that is borrowed,
and that abandons itself to the Beloved, ambitious of
having no other beauty than Him alone ! O bride !
how beautiful you will be when you have no ornament
of your own remaining ! You will be the sole delight
of your Spouse, when He alone shall be all your
beauty ! Then He will love you beyond measure,
because it will be Himself only that He loves in you.
Listen to these things, and believe them. This food
of pure truth will at first be bitter to your mouth and
stomach ; but it will nourish your heart, and will
nourish it with the death which alone is life. Believe
(") Matt. xvi. 24. {') 2 Cor. v. 4.

246 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
this, and do not listen to yourself. Self is the great
deceiver : it leads astray more than the serpent that
deceived Eve. Happy is the soul that listens in all
simplicity to that which prevents it from listening to
itself, and pitying itself !
Why cannot I be near you ! but God does not
permit it. What am I saying? God does bring
me close to you, and He unites us a thousand times
more closely to Himself, Who is the centre of all
those that are His, than if we were always together in
the same place. I am, in spirit, quite close to you : I
bear, with you, your cross and weariness.
But if you wish the Child Jesus to bear them with
you, suffer Him to hide Himself from your eyes ; let
Him come and go as He will. He will be all-powerful
in you, if you are very little in Him. We ask for help
to live and to possess ourselves : we only need help to
die, and to be dispossessed of ourselves and left without
resource. Our true help consists in the mortal blow ;
it is the finishing stroke, the blow of mercy. It is time
we died to ourselves, in order that the death of Jesus
Christ may produce in us a new life. I would give my
life to take away yours from 3'ou ; and to make you
live with the life of God alone.

137. (168.)
On the necessity of abandoning ourselves in pure faith
to the hidden operation of God, which brings death
to self.
That which I wish for you, above all things, is that
you should not impair your special grace by seeking
after it. Do you wish that death should make you live,
and that you should keep possession of yourself while

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 247
you are abandoning yourself? Such an abandonment
would be the greatest possession of self, and would
misleadingly be termed abandonment of all : it would
be the most manifest delusion. You must be deprived
of all food if you are really to die. It is cruelty and
treason, to let yourself go on breathing and feeding,
and so to prolong the agony of your torture. Die ; it
is the only word I have to say to you.
What did you seek for in the way which God has
opened to you ? If you wished to live, you had only to
feed yourself with everything that came in your way.
But for how many years have you devoted yourself to
the darkness of pure faith, to the death of self, and to
abandonment ? Did you do so on condition of only
doing it apparently, and of finding a still greater
security in abandonment itself? If that was so, you
would have been very cunning with God : it would be
the height of illusion. If, on the contrary, you sought
only (as I do not doubt) for the total sacrifice of your
spirit and your will, why do you shrink back when
God makes you find at last the only thing you sought
for? Do you wish to take yourself back again, just
when God wishes to possess you, and to dispossess you
of yourself? Do you wish, through fear of the sea
and the storm, to throw yourself against the rocks, and
be shipwrecked in sight of the harbour ? Renounce all
assurance ; you could only have one that was false. It
is that unfaithful desire of assurance which is the cause
of all your trouble. Far from leading you to rest, it
makes you resist grace ; how can you expect to find
peace ?
I grant that we must follow what God puts into our
heart ; but there are two things to be observed : one is
that the attraction of God which draws the heart is not
to be found in the subtle and uneasy reflections of self-

248 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
love ; the other is, that it is not to be found either, in
interior movements so marked, that they bring with
them a certainty that they are Divine. This certainty,
that would be felt and reflected upon, of which we
could give an account to ourselves, and in which we
could rest, would destroy the state of pure faith, would
render any kind of death impossible and imaginary,
and would change abandonment and deprivation of
all things, into full possession of self and unbounded
self-appropriation ; in fact, it would be a perpetual
fanaticism, because we should believe ourselves to be
always directly and immediately inspired by God, in
everything we did, from one moment to another. There
would no longer be any direction or obedience, except
in so far as the interior movement, independent of all
exterior authority, might incline each one. This would
be to turn the way of faith and death upside down.
All would be light, possession, life, and assurance in all
things. We must therefore observe that we are to
follow the interior movement, but not attempt to gain
certainty about it by reflection, or to say to ourselves,
that so we may enjoy our certainty : Yes, it is by a
movement of grace that I am acting.
This movement is only grace, or the interior attrac
tion of the Holy Spirit, which is common to all the
just ; but more delicate, more deep, less perceptible,
and more interior, in souls that are already stripped
in other ways, and of whose disappropriation God
is jealous. This movement brings with it a certain
knowledge that is very simple, very direct, very swift
in its operation, and that is sufficient for the soul, to
help her to act uprightly, and if she resists, to reproach
her during the moment of her infidelity. But it is like
the track of a fish in the water ; it is effaced as soon as
it is formed, and nothing remains ; if you wish to see it,

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 249
it disappears, to shame your curiosity. How can you
imagine that God would let you possess this gift, when
He only gives it to you that you may possess nothing
¦of yourself? The holy patriarchs, prophets, and apostles
had, besides their extraordinary and miraculous gifts,
a continual attraction of grace which led them to con
tinual death ; but they did not constitute themselves
judges of their grace, and they followed it simply :
had they done otherwise it would have escaped them,
whilst they were reasoning to make themselves judges
of it. You are our oldest forerunner in this way, but it is
this very seniority of yours that makes you owe more
to God than all the others. You are our eldest sister ;
it is for you to be the model of all the others, to
strengthen them in the ways of darkness and of death.
Walk then, as Abraham did, without knowing whither.
Go out from your own country, which is your own heart ;
follow the movements of grace, but do not seek to be
certain about them by reasoning. If you seek for this
certainty before acting, you make yourself the judge of
your grace, instead of being obedient to it, and giving
yourself up to it, as the Apostles did. They were
delivered to the grace of God, St. Luke says in the Acts.(a)
If, on the other hand, you seek for this certainty after
having acted, you are seeking for a vain consolation by
a reflection of self-love, instead of going on always With
simplicity, according to your attraction, without looking
back. This looking back interrupts our course, retards
¦ our progress, and confuses and weakens the interior
, operation : it is an inopportune movement under the
hand of God ; it is a constant taking back of ourselves ;
it is to undo with one hand what we are doing with the
-other. From hence it comes, that we spend so many
(") Acts xv. 40.

250 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
years languishing, hesitating, turning round and round
ourselves. I do not lose sight of your long sufferings, or of your
trials, or of the mistakes those make who speak to me
of your state, without understanding it. I agree even
that it is much easier for me to speak than for you to
do as I say, and that I fall into all the faults myself,
which I advise you not to fall into. But the truth is
that we both owe more to God than others do, because
it has pleased Him to require more advanced things
from us ; and perhaps we are both in proportion the
most backward. Let us not be discouraged : God only
wishes to see us faithful. Let us begin again, and by
beginning again we shall soon finish. Let us drop
everything, let us pick up nothing ; then we shall go on
very quickly and in great peace.

138- (169.)
On simple and complete abandonment.
I desire for you a total simplicity of abandonment,
without which we only abandon ourselves on condition
of measuring our abandonment ourselves, and of never
being really abandoned in any of the things of this
present life which affect our self-love the most. It is
not a real and total abandonment to God alone, but
false abandonment and a secret reserve, which causes
delusion. Be as simple and humble in the midst of the most
critical society, as if you were in your closet. Do
nothing, either through calculating wisdom, or through
natural inclination, but simply through pliability to the
spirit of death and of life ; death to yourself, life to
God. Have no enthusiasm, no assurance sought for

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 251
within yourself, no stimulation by looking forward to
the future, as if the present, bitter as it may be, were
not sufficient for those who have no other treasure than
the will of God alone, and as if we wished to make up
to our self-love for the sadness of the present by the
happiness to come in the future. We deserve to be
deceived when we seek this vain consolation. Let us
receive everything with humility ; let us seek nothing
through curiosity ; let us cleave to nothing from a
disguised self-seeking. Let us suffer God to do as He
will, and only think of dying without reserve to the
present moment, as if it were the whole of eternity.
Perform no feats of would-be wisdom.

139. (170.)
That we must avoid dissipation, and repress the activity
of the mind.
In the name of God, avoid dissipation ; be afraid of
your too lively imagination, and of your taste for the
world. It is not enough not to see too many people ;
more than that, you must not allow your vivacity to
be too much excited by any one of them ; you must
cut long conversations short ; and even in short ones
you must restrain a certain activity of mind which is
incompatible with recollection. It is not a question of
a certain recollection that is obtained by efforts and
an unseasonable industry; what I ask of you, is an
entirely simple union of your inmost heart with God,
which His grace will give us when we give up our
activity, which only distracts us and infatuates us with
the amusement of creatures.
Indeed, if you are not faithful in giving up all your
activity, which is natural and habitual to you, you

252 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
will insensibly ruin your interior ; and in spite of all
your pious intentions, you will find yourself reduced
to a devotion of transitory and superficial feelings,
together with great weakness and a great admixture
of things quite contrary to your former grace.

140. (171.)
On the same subject.
I hope very much that you will receive with an
open and docile heart all that is said to you for your
spiritual correction. It is necessary for you that N 
should retain a real authority over you. She knows
you thoroughly : God has given her to you as a
spiritual mother ; she is the channel of grace for you.
You need some one to repress the continual outbursts
of your too lively imagination : everything amuses you,
everything distracts you, everything plunges you again
into your natural character.
That which makes you spend so much time over
everything is, that you follow your imagination too
much in all things. You love too much to speak of
useless things, of circumstances that are of little
importance, rather than of the most necessary things.
You are too much occupied with obtaining for yourself
consideration, confidence, and distinctions. You love
your rank too much, and those persons who honour
you for it. You give too much time to all that pleases
and flatters you.
You will never die to all these things, except by
being shorter in all you do. You must have a know
ledge of the men with whom you ought to stand on
a good footing. You must get solid instruction upon
certain principles, on which a man of your rank may

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 253
have occasion to form opinions, or on which he may
have to act, as the occasion presents itself; but you
must retrench all over- eagerness of curiosity and
ambition. You must only enter into such things
through pure fidelity, and consequently you must die
to them from one hour to another, even when you are
entering upon them.
Fear not only to receive with pride and trust in your
own light that which is said to you for your correction
against your own ideas, but fear also to lose the fruit of
this correction through distraction, or dissipation, or a
kind of frivolity. We have received good counsel very
badly, when it escapes from us so soon. To receive it
well, we must give our interior spirit all the time that
is necessary to impress it deeply upon us, and to apply
it quietly to all our wants, down to the smallest detail.
Give yourself up to the spirit of prayer : you will
never resist it, if you always avoid and drop all dissipa
tion. It is this passive recollection that is your only
resource. If you do not resist this simple and secret
attraction, it will keep you in a simple state of recollec
tion suitable to the degree of prayer you have attained,
which will last all day long, in the midst of the most
ordinary occupations. Then you will speak but little,
and only when grace urges you. Si quis loquitur, quasi
sermones Dei — " If any man speak, let him speak as the words
of God." (a) («) 1 Pet. iv. n.

254 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

141. (172.)
That we must allow ourselves to be guided without
resistance.
I embrace you tenderly. It is in your infirmity that
my affection for you is redoubled. Your weakness will
turn into strength, without appropriation, if you are
faithful in this trial. In proportion as the child is
weak, he ought to cling more closely to his mother.
Tell her everything with a child-like simplicity; beg
her to take care of you ; do not ever be troublesome
to her. Have at least the intention of yielding
immediately. Deprive yourself of all that she wishes
you to deprive yourself of. Return to a state of
recollection that is proportioned to your need. Avoid
all that could dissipate you. Go back and learn your
a, b, c, if it is necessary, that you may begin again to
build the edifice from the foundations. Do not be
astonished at finding no resource in yourself against
the most frightful excesses. It is in this trial of
powerlessness and despair of yourself that God wishes
you to be, and it is not an evil, but a true remedy for
all your evils. But turn yourself towards God, and
towards N  , who is given to you in this necessity.
You will find in God, through her, all that is wanting
to you in yourself.
Do not trust yourself in anything. Have a horror
of yourself. Have your heart on your lips, and in the
hands of this good mother. The great point is to
yield incessantly to God, and to let Him do as He
pleases in us, by a simple non-resistance. This simple
non-resistance, which we are tempted to look upon as
inaction, extends far beyond anything that could be
believed. It leaves no life to nature, and takes away

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 255
from nature even the activity which served it as a last
support. We would rather labour without relaxation,
and see the result of our labours, than reduce ourselves
to a state of never resisting. Never resist, and all will
be done by degrees. Be simple, humble, and unreason
ing : with docility, all will be made smooth ; without
docility, all will become as it were impossible, and you
will fall terribly.
I wish you to be humble in proportion to your
weakness. It is nothing to be weak, provided we are
like little children and keep in the arms of our mother :
but to be weak and proud also, that is unbearable ; to
fall at every step we take, and yet not to allow ourselves
to be carried, that is enough to break one's head.

142. (173.)
Advice for two persons, in different degrees of grace.
I see that the light of God is in you, to show you
your own faults, and those of N  . It is very little
to see them ; you must act, or rather you must let God
act in you, and never resist Him. As to N  , you
must give him no quarter whatever ; accept no excuses
from him, cut him short ; he must be silent, must
believe what you tell him, must obey without listening
to himself. For yourself, the more support you seek, the less
you will find. That which weighs nothing, has no need
of being supported ; but that which has a weight of its
own, breaks its supports. A reed upon which you wish
to lean will pierce your hand ; but if you are really
nothing, you will fall no more, because you have no
weight in yourself. People speak only of abandonment,
and all the time they are seeking assurances of the

256 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
most tangible kind. Good faith with God consists in
not having a false abandonment or a half-abandonment,
when we have promised Him a total one. Ananias
and Saphira were terribly punished for not having
given without reserve riches which they were free to
have kept entirely. Let us go on blindhy. Abraham
went out from his own country, without knowing where
he was going. I should like very much to drive you
out of your country, and place you, like him, far from
the least vestige of a road.
N  will only advance in proportion as he is
obedient. We imagine, when we are in a certain state
of simplicity, that we have no more recollection or
mortification to practise ; this a great delusion.
(1) We still have need of both these things, because
we are not yet entirely in the state in which we fondly
think we are, and very often we are going back from it.
(2) Even when we are in this state we do practise
recollection and mortification, without practising them
by set rules and methods. We are recollected in a
simple manner to avoid distractions from our natural
vivacity, by remaining in peace according to the good
pleasure of the spirit of grace. We are mortified also
by this same spirit, inasmuch as we follow it solely,
without following our own spirit. Inasmuch as we live
only by faith, our life is very dead. Inasmuch as God
alone lives, acts, speaks, and is silent in us, self finds no
more breathing-place. This is what we must try to
attain to ; this is what the interior principle, if we do
not resist it, leads us on to unceasingly.
When we are only weak, the weakness of a child
does not hinder us from being good children ; but to be
weak, and disobedient, this is to have only the weakness
of childhood, and to join to it the pride of grown-up
people. This advice is for N  . In the name of

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 257
God, let him be candid and humble. I should like to
put him down low, low, low. He can only be good by
depending on others. 143- (1740
That we must find our strength in weakness, as the
Apostle did. On the marks of true abandonment.
You have nothing to do, my dear daughter, but to
bear your infirmities, those of the body as well as the
mind. When I am weak, says the Apostle, then am I
powerfid : power is made perfect in infirmity. (a) We are
only strong in God, in proportion as we are weak in
ourselves. Your weakness, then, will be your strength,
if you consent to it through humility.
We might be tempted to think that humility and
lowliness are incompatible with abandonment, because
we represent abandonment to ourselves as a strength
of the soul, which makes the most heroic sacrifices,
through the generosity of its love and the grandeur of
its feelings. But abandonment is a simple resignation
of ourselves into the arms of God, as a little child
reposes in the arms of his mother.
Perfect abandonment goes so far as to abandon
abandonment itself. We abandon ourselves without
knowing that we have abandoned ourselves ; if we
knew it, we should be abandoned no longer ; for is
a more powerful support than a state of abandonment
known and possessed ? Abandonment consists, not in
doing great things of which we can give account to
ourselves, but simply in bearing our own weakness and
powerlessness, in letting God do with us as He pleases,
without being able to assure ourselves that we are really
letting Him do so. It is peaceful, for there could be
• (a) 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10.

258 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
no sincere abandonment if we were still anxious not to
let the things we had abandoned escape us, or to get
them back again. Thus abandonment is the source of
true peace, and without peace abandonment is very
imperfect. If you ask for a resource in your abandonment, you
ask to die without losing your life. Everything has to
be begun over again. Nothing can prepare us for
abandoning ourselves to the ve^ end, except actual
abandonment from one moment to another. Preparation
and abandonment are two things which destroy each
other. Abandonment is only abandonment in preparing
nothing beforehand. We must abandon all to God,
even to our abandonment itself. When the Jews were
scandalized at the promise that Jesus Christ made to
give His Flesh for food, He said to His disciples : Will
you also go away ? Similarly He offers to those who are
feeling their way in the dark, to break off their bargain.
Let us say to Him, as St. Peter said: Lord, to whom shall

we .

?

Thou hast the words of eternal life. (a)
144- (i75-)
On crosses and death from day to day.
Let us bear the Cross ; our greatest cross is our
selves. We shall get out of ourselves only in pro
portion as we look upon ourselves simply as a neighbour
with whom we must bear patiently. If we would let
ourselves die every day of our life, we should not have
much difficulty in really dying when the time came;
and that which makes us so frightened when we con
template it from afar off, would scarcely frighten us at
all when we came close to it, provided always that we
(<•) John vi. 68, 69.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 259
did not exaggerate it to ourselves by the uneasy foresight
of our self-love. Bear with 3'ourself, and consent humbly
to be borne with by others. Oh ! how these little daily
deaths take away the sting from the great death !

145. (176.)
That the pains of dying to ourselves come only from our
resistance. That abandonment, to be real, ought not
to be perceptible.
We are mistaken about dying to ourselves ; we
imagine it is that which causes all the pain we suffer.
No ; it is only the remains of our secret life that make
us suffer. Pain is in the quick and not in the dead.
The more suddenly and unresistingly we die, the less
pain we suffer. Death is only painful to that which
repulses it ; it is the imagination which exaggerates it
and has a horror of it ; it is the mind which is reasoning
incessantly to authorize self-seeking and hidden life ; it
is self-love that is living and fighting against death,
like a sick man in the convulsive movements of his
agony. And yet we must die to self interiorly, as well
as exteriorly. The sentence of death has been pro
nounced against the spirit, as the sentence of justice
against the body. The great point is that the spirit
should die before the body ; then the death of the
body will be only a sleep. Blessed are those who sleep
with this sleep of peace !
When you abandon yourself to God, do not do so
by reasoning and seeking for an interior certainty,
which would be an imaginary possession against true
abandonment ; but without presuming upon any inspira
tion or certainty, act without reflection, following the
guidance of your heart. To measure our abandonment

260 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
that we may feel contented, or to assure ourselves
secretly under fine pretexts, is but an act of human
wisdom and foresight ; it is a limit which we mark out
for ourselves to spare ourselves, and when we mark
it out thus, we mark it out really for God. The more
you wish to make a bargain with Him, and get off as
cheaply as you can, the more it will cost you. On the
contrary, give up everything to Him without reserve,
and He will give you peace.
There is no such thing as sensible security in any
way ; still less in the way of pure faith. We must go,
as Abraham went, without knowing whither. A trial
that is recognized as simply a trial, ceases to be a
real trial. An abandonment that is measured and
exercised as abandonment, ceases to be abandonment ;
such a loss is nothing but an infinite possession of self.
By sheer wishing to avoid delusion, we fall into the
most dangerous of all delusions, which is that of taking
possession of ourselves again, against the grace that is
leading us.
Wherever there is peace for your heart, there is
God for you. Do not then be troubled about anything.
Live without food. This day so full of clouds will be
followed by a day without cloud and without end. Oh !
how the decline of day ought to give us a pure light !
146. (177.)
That we must resign ourselves to God, without uneasy
reflections upon ourselves ; that we must avoid dissi
pation, and act without taking any credit to ourselves
for our work.
N  will never have any rest, except inasmuch as
she gives up the idea of obtaining any. Peace in this
life can only be found in uncertainty. Pure love can

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 26l
only be exercised in this deprivation of all assurance.
The least restless reflection is a taking possession of
self again, and an infidelity against the grace of
abandonment. Let us suffer God to do as He pleases
with us ; and after we have let Him do as He will, let
us seek for no support. If we have got to the point of
being willing to be without perceptible support, we
have but to be faithful to the attraction of grace, and
then to abandon ourselves.
She must resign herself into the hands of God.
Whether we live, ov whether we die, we are the Lord's, says
St. Paul.(*) Abandonment is real, only in proportion as
it is exercised as the occasions present themselves.
God is the same in this life as He is in the other,
equally worthy of being served for His glory and His
good pleasure. In both cases He equally wishes to
have all things for Himself, and His jealousy every
where tests and purifies the souls that wish to follow
Him. Paradise, Hell, and Purgatory have a kind of
beginning even in this life.
I ask for this dear Sister a peace of pure faith and
abnegation. This peace cannot be lost ; it is exposed
to no disappointment, because it is founded upon no
possession, or assurance, or consolation. I wish for
her, that her heart may be in peace and in simplicity.
I add, in simplicity, because simplicity is the true
source of peace. When we are not simple, we are not
yet truly children of peace ; therefore we do not enjoy
the fruits of it. We deserve our uneasiness, which we
give ourselves by our useless reflections upon self,
contrary to our interior attraction. The spirit of peace
rests upon him who does not trouble this rest by
listening to himself instead of listening to God. Rest,
which is a sample and a foretaste of the eternal
(") Rom. xiv. 8.

262 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Sabbath, is very sweet, but the way that leads to it is
a hard martyrdom. It is time (I am saying this for
N  ) to let God finish after so many years. God
asks much more from her than from beginners.
As to your invalid, I pray for her with all my heart ;
her crosses are precious in the sight of God. The more
she suffers, the more I venerate her in Him Who is
crucifying her, to make her worthy of Himself. Great
sufferings show us at the same time both the depth of
the wounds which have to be cured in us, and the
sublimity of the gifts for which God is preparing us.
For yourself, sir, avoid dissipation, fear your vivacity.
This natural activity, which you encourage instead of
mortifying, dries up insensibly within you the grace
of the spiritual life. You preserve nothing more than
rules and sensible motives ; but the life that is hid with
Christ in God (a) languishes, is mixed up with other
things, and is extinguished for want of necessary food,
which is the silence of the depths of the soul. I have
been sorry because you were not employed on active
service ; but it is a design of pure mercy on your behalf,
to detach you from the world, and bring you back to
the life of pure faith which is a ceaseless death. Give
to the world only the time which necessity and courtesy
require. Do not amuse yourself with trifles. Speak
only from necessity. Calm your imagination on every
occasion. Drop all eagerness. It is not by eagerness
that you will cease to be eager. I do not ask of you to
produce recollection by strain and methods, but only
to find it by giving up everything that distracts you
and excites your activity.
I am delighted to hear of all the good you find in
M  . I hope you will make her still better by
showing her by your simple and uniform practice how
(") Coloss. iii. 5.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 263
amiable true piety is, and how different from all that
the world imagines about it ; but her good husband
must not spoil her by a blind passion ; in spoiling her,
he will spoil himself also ; this excessive union may
even cause afterwards a dangerous weariness, and
perhaps a disunion. Let the torrent exhaust itself a
little, but profit by providential occasions to suggest to
her moderation, recollection, and a desire to prefer the
attraction of grace to the inclinations of nature. Wait
for God's time, and do not let it be lost ; N  will
help you not to do too much or too little.
God wishes that, in the work He lays upon us,
we should try to reconcile two things which are very
suitable for helping us to die to ourselves : one is to act
as if everything depended upon the diligence of our
work ; the other is, to undeceive ourselves about our
work, and to think that after it is finished, there is still
nothing begun. After we have worked hard, God takes
pleasure in sweeping away all our work before our
eyes, just as a stroke of the broom sweeps away a
spider's web ; after which, He Himself will do, if He
pleases, and without our being able to say how, the
very work about which He made us take so much
trouble, useless trouble as it seems to us. Make your
spider's webs then ; God will sweep them away ; and
after having put you to shame, He will do the work
Himself, after His own fashion.
I am not surprised at your miseries ; you deserve
them so long as you are still surprised at them yourself.
It is because we proudly expect something from our
selves, that we are surprised when we find ourselves in
fault. Such surprise comes only from the remains of
self-confidence.

264 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

147. (l78.)
Upon the extinction of the life of self-love. Acting by
grace alone. Expecting everything from God.
My state cannot be explained, for I understand it
less than any one else. As soon as I wish to say some
thing about myself, either good or bad, whether I am
under trial or in consolation, I think that what I say
is false, because I have no consistency in any sense of
the word. I see only that I always shrink from the
Cross and that it is very necessary for me.
I hope very much that you will be simple, upright,
and firm, without listening to yourself, without trying
by any clever tricks to make things happen as you wish
them to happen, and that you will let God do as He
pleases to finish His work in you.
That which I wish for you as well as for myself, is
that we may never perceive in ourselves any remains
of the life of self, without suffering them to be extin
guished. When I am at the Divine Office in our choir,
I see the hand of one of our chaplains apphying a
great extinguisher, and putting out all the wax candles
from behind the altar, one after the other ; when he
does not extinguish them entirely, the wick remains in
a smouldering glow which lasts a long time, and con
sumes the candle. Grace comes in like manner to
extinguish the life of corrupt nature ; but this obstinate
life smoulders on for a long time, and consumes us by
a secret fire, unless the extinguisher is well applied,
and unless it stifles even the last remains of this hidden
fire. I wish that you should desire my destruction as I
desire yours. Let us finish with this old wearisome
life, which is always intriguing to escape from the hand

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 265
of God ; indeed, it is time we did so. We still live,
after having received a hundred mortal blows.
Be assured that I shall not flatter M  in any
thing, and that I shall even try to go to the very root
of the matter. God will do the rest through you.
Your patience, your equality, your fidelity in acting
towards him only by the leadings of grace, without
anticipating God's time by activity or industry of
your own ; in a word, your continual dying to yourself
will fit you for making this dear son die also b3' degrees
to all that seems to you to be keeping him back in the
way of perfection. If you are very humble, and
thoroughly despoiled of your own wisdom, God will
give you His wisdom to help you to overcome all
obstacles. Do not act towards him with cautious wisdom, but
in pure faith and simple abandonment. Keep silence,
to bring him back to recollection and fidelity, when you
see that words are unseasonable. Bear with that which
you cannot prevent. Hope against hope, as Abraham
did ; that is to say, wait in peace until God does as
He pleases, even when you can no longer hope. Such
a hope is a real abandonment ; such a state will be
your most painful trial and the work of God in him.
Do not speak to him, except when your heart moves
you to do so without paying attention to human
prudence. Say to him only two or three words
inspired by grace ; let nature have nothing to do
with it.

266 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

148. (179.)
That God proportions our sufferings and trials to the
strength He gives.
I always take a great interest in the sufferings of
your dear invalid, and in the sorrows of those whom
God has placed so near her to help her to bear her
cross. Let her not lose trust in God, and He will
know how to proportion her sufferings to the patience
He will give her. It is only He Who has made all
hearts, and Who remakes them by His grace, Who
understands this just proportion. The man in whom
He observes it is ignorant of it ; and therefore, knowing
neither the extent of his future trials, nor the extent of
the gift which God has prepared to sustain him, he
falls into a temptation to discouragement and despair.
It is like a man who has never seen the sea, and
who, finding himself upon the shore, without being
able to escape from it on account of the steep cliffs,
imagines that the sea which, as the tide is coming in,
drives its waves towards him, will soon swallow him
up. He does not understand that the sea must stop
at a certain precise limit, which the finger of God has
marked out for it, and that he will be more frightened
than hurt.
God does with the trials of the just man as He does
with the sea ; He causes them to swell, to rise, and
threaten us ; but He limits the temptation. Fidelis
Deus, qui non patietur vos tentari supra id quod potestis — ¦
" God is faithful, Who will not suffer you to be tempted
above that which you are able." (f) He condescends
to call Himself faithful. Oh, how amiable is this
fidelity ! (") 1 Cor. x. 13.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 267
Say a word of this to your sufferer, and tell her,
that without looking farther than the present day she
must let God do as He will. Often that which seems
to us most* wearying and most terrible, is softened for
us when it comes. The excess of our suffering comes,
not from God, Who never gives too much of anything,
but from our own imagination, which wishes to pene
trate the future, and from our self-love, which
exaggerates our sufferings.
This would not be useless advice for N  , who
sometimes troubles himself with the fear of being
troubled some day. Every moment is equally in the
hands of God, the moment of death as well as that of
life. With a word He commands the winds and the
sea ; they obey Him and become calm. What do you
fear, O man of little faith ? Is not God far more
powerful than you are weak ?

149. (180.)
That we must reduce our good resolutions to practice.
On simplicity, and its effects.
Your dispositions are good, but you must reduce to
a constant and uniform practice all that you possess in
speculation and desire. It is true that we must have
patience with ourselves as we have with others, and
that we must not be discouraged or impatient at the
sight of our faults : but still, we must correct ourselves ;
and we shall succeed in doing so, if only we are simple
and humble under the all-powerful hand which wishes
to fashion us after His pattern, which is not ours.
The true means of cutting down even to the very roots
the evil that is within you, is to mortify incessantly
your excessive activity by recollection, and to let drop

268 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
all eagerness, that you may act only in peace and pure
dependence upon grace.
Be always humble with regard to N  and never
close your heart against her. It is when we feel that
our heart is closing up, that we must open it. The
temptation to reject the remedy makes it all the more
necessary. N  has great experience, she loves you,
she will support you in your difficulties. Every one
has his guardian angel ; she will be yours when you
have need of her : but a perfect simplicity is necessary.
Simplicity not only makes us upright and sincere, it
makes us also open and candid, up to perfect artless-
ness ; and it not only makes us artless and candid, but
also trustful and obedient.

150. (181.)
That we must follow God without regard to our feelings.
On the advantage of the Cross, and the fruit we ought
to gain from our faults.
I take and accept your own account, that you inces
santly resist the will of God. His grace presses you
to be occupied with Him, but the reflections of your
self-love occupy you only with yourself. Since you
know that you would be more at rest, if you did not
incessantly try, by your own efforts, to attain to a
higher state of prayer and shine in devotion, why do
you not seek this rest ? Content yourself with following
God, and do not expect God to follow your inclinations,
and to flatter you. Make your prayer as the most
ordinary and imperfect beginners do, if necessary ;
accommodate yourself to the attraction of God and
your own needs.
It is true that we must not be troubled when we feel

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 269
within ourselves the corrupt inclinations of self-love;
it does not depend upon us not to feel them. But we
must give no consent of our will to them, and we must
pass over these involuntary feelings by turning ourselves
simply towards God. Whilst pursuing this conduct,
we must go to Holy Communion, and we must even go
to Holy Communion that we may be able to persevere
in it. If you were to wait for Communion until you
were perfect, you would never have either Communion
or perfection ; for we only become perfect by com
municating, and we must eat the Bread that came
down from Heaven, if we would attain by degrees to a
life that is all heavenly.
As to your crosses, you must take them as a
penance for your sins, and as an exercise of death to
self which will lead you to perfection. Oh, how good
crosses are ! What need we have of them ! What
should we do without crosses ? we should be given
up to ourselves and intoxicated with self-love. We
have need of crosses, and even of faults, which God
permits for our humiliation. We must turn every
thing to profit, we must avoid faults when occasions
come, and we must make use of them for our confusion
as soon as we have committed them. We must bear
our crosses with faith, and look upon them as our most
salutary remedies.
Fear pride, distrust all that the world calls solid
reputation ; it is a hundred times more dangerous than
foolish pride and vanity. The most subtle poison is
the most mortal.
Be gentle, patient, and compassionate towards the
weaknesses of others, incapable of all mockery and
criticism. Charity believes all the good it can possibly
believe, and bears with all the evil it cannot help seeing
in others. But to be thus dead to the world we must

270 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
live to God ; and this interior life can only find its
source in prayer. Silence and a sense of the presence
of God are the food of the soul.

151- (182.)
Showing from what cause proceeds the diminution of
consolation and recollection. That we must renounce
ourselves and creatures.
I have received your last letter. It seems to me
from that, that God is giving you great graces, for He
is enlightening and pursuing you very much ; it is for
you to correspond to all these graces. The more He
gives, the more He asks in return ; and the more He
asks, the more it is right for us to give Him.
You see that He withdraws His consolations and
the attraction of recollection, as soon as you allow your
self to be led away by your inclination for creatures
that distract you. Judge by that of the jealousy of
God, and of that which you ought to have against
yourself, to belong to yourself no more and to give
yourself up to Him without reserve.
You are quite right it thinking that the renounce
ment of self, which is demanded of us in the Gospel,
consists in the sacrifice of all our thoughts and all the
movements of our heart. The self, which we must
renounce, is not a sort of " I do not know what," or
a phantom of the air ; it is our own understanding, and
our own will, inasmuch as they follow self-love, and
conceive or desire anything in their* own way alone.
To re-establish the order of God, we must renounce
this disordered self, by thinking and willing no longer,
except according to the impression of the spirit of
grace.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 271
This is the state in which God communicates Him
self with familiarity. As soon as we forsake this state,
we resist the Spirit of God, we grieve Him, and make
ourselves unworthy of His intercourse. It is through
His mercy that God repulses you, and makes you feel
that you are deprived of Him as soon as you turn
to creatures ; it is because He wishes to reproach you
for your fault and humble you for it, and to make you
correct yourself of it and be more careful. Then you
must return humbly and patiently to Him. Never give
way to angry vexation with yourself, a vexation which
is your special pitfall ; but rest assured that silence and
recollection and simplicity and retirement from the
world, are for you what the nurse's breast is for the
little child. 152. (183.)
On patience with ourselves and with others.
I was truly grieved yesterday to see your heart so
sick. It seems to me that you ought to do equally two
things : one is, never to follow willingly the refinements
of your self-love ; the other is, never to be discouraged
when you experience these feelings of vexation, that
are so unreasonable, in your heart. Do you wish to
do well ? Ask God to make you patient with others
and with yourself. If you had only others to bear
with, and if you could find miseries only in them, you
would be violently tempted to think yourself much
better than your neighbour. God wishes to reduce
you, by an almost continual experience of your own
faults, to acknowledge how just it is that you should
bear gently with the faults of others. Ah, what should
we be, if we found nothing to bear with in ourselves,
since we have so much difficulty in bearing with others,

272 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
even when we continually require them to bear
with us?
Turn all your weaknesses to profit, by accepting
them, by confessing them with a humble candour, and
by accustoming yourself to rely no longer upon self.
When you are quite without resource, and thoroughly
dispossessed of yourself by an absolute despair of your
own strength, God will teach you to work, in a state
of entire dependence upon His grace, for your correc
tion. Have patience with yourself; humble yourself;
make yourself little ; dwell quietly in the mud of your
imperfections, not loving them or neglecting their
correction, but drawing from them distrust of your own
heart and deep humiliation, just as one draws the
greatest remedies from poisons themselves. God only
makes you experience these weaknesses, in order that
you may more earnestly have recourse to Him. He
will gradually deliver you from yourself. O happy
deliverance ! 153- (184.)
That we must patiently bear with ourselves.
You rejoice at the faults of M  through jealousy,
and yet you bear them most impatiently : you are more
annoyed at her good qualities than at her faults. All
this is very ugly and very shameful. This is what
comes out of your heart because your heart is so full
of it ; this is what God lets you feel, that you may
learn to despise yourself, and never to rely on the
goodness of your heart. Your self-love is in despair
when, on the one hand, you feel within you a jealousy
so lively and so mean, and on the other hand you feel
nothing but distraction, and dryness, and weariness
and distaste for God. But the work of God is not

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 273
accomplished in us except by dispossessing us of our
selves, by dint of taking every resource of confidence
and complacency from our self-love. You would like
to feel yourself good, upright, strong, and incapable
of all evil. If you were to find yourself thus, you
would be all the worse, in proportion as you thought
yourself securely good. We must see ourselves poor,
feel ourselves to be corrupt and unjust, find in ourselves
nothing but misery, have a horror of it, despair of
ourselves, hope no more except in God, and bear
with ourselves in humble patience, without flattering
ourselves. For the rest, as these things are only involuntary
feelings, it is sufficient if our will does not consent to
them. In this manner, you will draw profit from your
humiliation, without being unfaithful to grace and
giving your consent to sentiments so corrupt.
Do not give up going to Holy Communion ;
Communion is the remedy for the weakness of tempted
souls, who wish to live the life of Jesus Christ, in spite
of all the rebellions of their self-love. Go to Com
munion then, and labour in the works of your correc
tion. Live in Jesus Christ, and live for Him. The
most important point for you is not strength ; it is
humility. Suffer yourself then to be humbled ; reserve
nothing through courage and human wisdom. Be
docile, without listening to your own reason. Learn
to bear with others, by the difficulty you find in bearing
with yourself. You thought you possessed yourself:
but experience will show you that it is a morose, easily
offended, and whimsical self-love which really possesses
you. I hope that, for the future, you will think no
longer of possessing yourself, but that you will let God
possess you entirely.

274 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
154- (185O
That we must not resist our interior attraction : but must
acquiesce in it and expect all things from God.
You see by the light of God, in the depths of your
conscience, all that grace asks of you ; but you resist
God, and that is the cause of your trouble. You begin
by saying to yourself, It is impossible for me to take
upon myself what is required of me. This is a tempta
tion to despair. Despair of yourself as much as you
like, but never despair of God. He is all good and
all powerful, He will give you according to the measure
of your faith. If you believe all things, all things will
be given you, and you will be able to move mountains.
If you believe nothing, nothing will be given you ; but
that will be your own fault. Look at Abraham, who
hoped against every rule of hope. Listen to the
Blessed Virgin ; the most incredible thing in the world
was proposed to her, and without hesitation she says :
Be it done to me according to thy word. (f)
Do not shut your heart then. Not only can you
not do what is required of you, because your heart is
so contracted, but you do not even wish to be able to do
it ; you will not suffer your heart to be enlarged, and
you fear lest it should be enlarged. How can you
expect grace to enter into a heart that is shut and
barred against it ? All that I ask of you is that you
should acquiesce in what God shows you, in obedience
to the spirit of faith, and that you should not listen to
yourself. Provided you acquiesce with humility and
enter again into peace by recollection, everything will
be done in you by degrees, and that which appeared
impossible to you in your state of temptation, will
(") Luke i. 38.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 275
insensibly be made easy to you. Then you will say :
What ! was it only that ? Was it necessary to feel
so much vexation and despair about a thing that is so
just, and that God makes so easy by His love ? Fear,
lest by resisting Him, you go far away from Him.
All your piety will only be a delusion, if you fail in this
essential point. There would be nothing in you but
fastidiousness, pride, and cleverness in flattering your
inclinations. I pray God that He will not permit you
to make such a mistake as this.
I am thinking much about your troubles. I am
still more touched at those which turn into temptations,
and expose you to the danger of resisting God, than
at your heaviest crosses. The crosses that we bear
in pure suffering, with humility, simplicity, resignation
of our own spirit and abandonment, unite us to Jesus
Christ crucified, and bring to us infinite benefits ; but
crosses that we shrink from, from attachment to our
own ideas and intrenchment in the stronghold of our
own will — such crosses draw us away from Jesus Christ,
dry up our hearts, and insensibly stop the flow of
Divine grace. In the name of God, yield through
humility, and say, without any reliance upon yourself,
knowing that you are but as a broken reed, Nothing is
impossible to Him Who is all good and all powerful.. God
only asks of you a Yes in pure faith. Console me by-
telling me that you have said this Yes with all your
heart. You will thus make me feel a real j'03' in the
midst of my sadness.

276 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

I55. (186.)
On the means of finding peace in the midst of crosses.
Everywhere there is something to suffer, and the
troubles of a religious community, although they may
be severe, are almost nothing when we compare them
with the troubles of persons in the world ; but our
brains get excited in solitude, and crosses of straw
become crosses of iron or lead. The remedy for such
a great evil is, not to imagine that we can be perfectly
happy in any state of life, and to be contented with
the peace that comes from conformity to the Divine
will, even when it crucifies us. In this way, we are
never disappointed ; and if nature is not contented, at
least faith is sustained and hardened against nature.
If you had the courage to abandon yourself thus, and
to sacrifice your irresolution, you would have more
peace in one day than you would otherwise have in the
whole of your life. The less we seek ourselves, the
more we find in God all that we have been willing to
lose. A quiet and regular occupation will preserve you
from growing weary. God will soften to you the
inevitable disappointments which are to be found in
every state. He will help you to bear with uncongenial
spirits, and will support you Himself when He takes
from you all other supports. But rely only upon Him,
if you wish not to be disappointed.
During your retreat, feed yourself with the meat of
Jesus Christ, which is the will of His Heavenly Father.
You will find, in abandoning yourself to the designs of
God for you, all that your own uneasy and irresolute
wisdom would never find. Do not fear to want con
solation, by throwing yourself into the arms of the true
Comforter.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 277

I56. (187.)
Against the vain refinements of self-love, and against
uneasy forethought about the future.
I am not astonished that God is sparing you ; you
are too weak to be taken less care of. I told you that
He would not do you the honour of treating you so
roughly as you feared.
It will not be a great misfortune if you say some
word that is rather old-fashioned, and two or three
people think that you are not a perfect model for
purit3' of language. That which might extend so far
as to be an imprudent offending against reticence, or
charity, or edification, ought never to be permitted ;
even that which might go against common sense would
be too much. If you feel yourself strongly pressed
interiorly to such things, you should tell me of it, and
suspend action, till you hear from me ; but, as for the
things which have only to do with ordinary politeness
or certain refinements of courtesy, I think you must give
yourself up to the spirit of simplicity and humiliation.
Nothing is so necessary for you as to die to your
reflections, your inclinations, and your vain sensitive
ness about such trifles. The more you fear to sacrifice
them, the more necessary the sacrifice is. This sensi
tiveness is the sign of a very strong life, which must be
torn up : but do not hesitate with God : you see that
He asks nothing of you but what you are convinced
yourself that He ought to ask of you, to destroy your
pride. Do not think about the future, for we go astray and
lose ourselves when we look at that. Do not try to
guess how far God will lead you, if you always yield to
Him without resistance. It is not by things foreseen

278 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
that He takes hold of us, foresight would soften the
;blow ; it is by things that we should never have
believed, and that we should have counted as nothing ;
whilst often the things of which we made phantoms to
frighten ourselves vanish away ; thus, our foresight
only serves to disquiet us. Obey from day to day ; the
obedience of each day is our true daily bread. We
are fed, as Jesus Christ was, by the will of our Father,
which Providence brings to us in the moment that is
present. This heavenly bread is still the manna of the
desert ; we cannot make provision of it for the future ;
the anxious and untrusting man, who took enough of it
for the next day, saw it forthwith become corrupted.
Bend yourself to everything people wish. Be pliant
and humble, without reasoning, without paying attention
to yourself; be ready for everything, and cleave to
nothing ; whether you are high or low, loved or hated,
praised or contradicted, employed or useless, having
the confidence or the envy and suspicion of the people
with whom you live. Provided you have no pride,
nor wisdom of your own, nor self-will about anything,
all will go well. This is saying a great deal, but it is
not too much. Keep silence as much as you can.
Nourish your heart, and make your mind fast.
No one can enter more sincerely than I do into
your true interests, and no one can wish more than
I do that you may be detached from all that is not
God. Happy is he who has broken with himself, and
has himself no longer for his friend. We are only
faithful to God in proportion as we are wanting to
ourselves, by the sacrifice of all that nature desires.
Let us seek for peace, silence, joy in God and not in
creatures, yielding to everything that is in the hands
of God.

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 279
157. (188.)
Upon the source of peace, and in what dispositions we
ought to be with regard to the sacrifices which God
requires of us.
You wish to be perfect, and to see your own
perfection, and in this way you think you will be
in peace. True peace in this life must be in the sight
of our imperfections, not flattered or tolerated, but, on
the contrary, condemned to the fullest extent. We
bear the humiliation of our miseries in peace, because
we no longer cling to ourselves through self-love. We
are sorry for our faults more than for those of another
person, not because they are our own and we take an
interest in them from a motive of self-appropriation,
but because it is for us to correct them, to overcome
ourselves, to disappropriate ourselves, to annihilate our
selves, that the will of God may be accomplished at our
expense. The state of mind that is suitable to your needs is,
that you should be attentive and faithful to all the
interior perceptions of your imperfections which come
to you from the depths of your soul, and that you
should never listen willingly to the uneasy and timid
reasonings which would only throw you back into the
trouble of your old scruples. That which is presented
to the soul in a simple and peaceful manner is a light
from God for her correction ; that which comes to you
by reasoning and anxiety is an effect of your natural
temperament, which you must give up gradually, by
turning yourself towards God with love.
You must also not trouble yourself by foresight
about the future, any more than by reflections upon
the past. When a doubt as to how to act comes to

280 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
you, and that of a kind upon which you can ask advice,
do so : in all other cases, do not think about the doubt,
until the occasion for action has come. And then, give
yourself to God and do in good faith the best that you
can, according to the light of the present moment.
When the occasions for sacrifice are over, think of
them no more. If they return, do nothing by a remem
brance of a time that is past : act according to the
actual inclination of your heart.
As for the sacrifices which you foresee, God shows
them to you from afar off, to make you accept them.
When you have accepted them, all is finished for that
moment. If the real occasion for the sacrifice comes
afterwards, you must make up your mind to it, not by
the acceptation you have already made in advance, but
according to your impression at the time.

158- (189.)
On fidelity in giving up all that troubles the silence
of the soul. Indulgence for the faults of others.
You are good enough to wish, sir, that I should ask
of you news of yourself and of all that most interests
you. Are you simple and uniform in everything ? Is
your exterior as perfectly resigned to God as your
interior ? Are you in a state of recollection without
activity, which consists in fidelity to grace that you
may give up all that comes from nature and troubles
the silence of the soul, without which we cannot listen
to the voice of God ?
N  is really good, although he has his faults;
but who is there that has none? And what would it
be, if we had not any, since, being weighed down with
our own, which we do not correct, we are neverthe-

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 28l
less so particular and so impatient with those of our
neighbour? Nothing can make us indulgent, since our
own incorrigible misery does not moderate the severity
of our criticism of others. We should do much more
for others by correcting ourselves, than by wishing to
correct them. Remain in peace, sir ; let everything
flow past you, as the river flows under the bridges.
Remain hidden in the secret place of God, which will
never pass away. 159. (190.)
On the happiness of suffering. How love sweetens all.
I hear that God is giving you many sufferings. I
share in them with all my heart. I have always been
very sensible to all that could affect you ; but experience
adds a new sympathy to my feelings for the sufferings
of others. Happy is he who suffers ! I say this, in the
midst of my own trials, for you and for myself: happy
is he who suffers with a meek and humble heart !
That which comes from God's good pleasure can
never go too far. If we were the masters of our suffer
ings, we should never suffer sufficiently for dying to
ourselves. God, Who knows us better than we can
possibly know ourselves, and Who loves us infinitely
more than we can love ourselves, knows what is the
just measure for our sufferings, and will never permit
us to be tempted beyond our strength.
Love sweetens all suffering, and we only suffer so
much, because we do not love, or because we love very
little. God wishes to have you for His own, and it
is only upon the Cross that He can take full possession
of you. I am keeping silence now with all my old friends,
and I only break it in your case, sir, because you are

282 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
in bitterness, and because this blessed companionship
in crosses calls for an opening of the heart, that we
may comfort each other in our afflictions.

160. (igi.)
Upon graces that we have received; upon habitual
recollection ; and abandonment to God.
August 18, 1714.
There is no soul that ought not to be convinced
that she has received sufficient grace to convert her
and sanctify her, if only she will call to memory within
her heart all the mercies that she has received. There
is nothing to be done but to admire and praise God,
and to despise and be ashamed of one's self. We must
conclude, from these great graces, that God is infinitely
generous, and that we are horribly unfaithful to Him.
We must avoid dissipation, not by a continual
struggle with ourselves, which would only break our
heads and strain the brain, but by two simple and
peaceful methods. One is, to cut short, in our daily
amusements, all the sources of dissipation which are
not really necessary for the relaxation of our minds ;
the other is, to return gently and patiently into the
presence of God whenever we perceive that we have
lost it.
It is not necessary always to put all our exercises
of piety into formal and conscious acts. It is enough
if, during these exercises, we have an habitual and
general attention, with an upright and sincere intention
of attaining the end which we propose to ourselves
in performing them. Distractions which are really
involuntary do no harm to a will which desires to have

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 283
no part in them. It is the real tendency of the will
which is the essential point.
Preserve, without scruple, the simple peace which
you find in your straightforward manner of seeking God
alone. The love of God gives a peace that is without
presumption : self-love gives an uneasiness that is
without fruit. Do everything as well as you possibly
can, for the sake of the Beloved. See what is wanting
in you, without flattering yourself or being discouraged ;
after that, abandon yourself to God, labouring in good
faith, but without anxiety, for your correction.
The more you are empty of your own good, and
your human resources, the more you will find a light
and a secret strength which will support you in time
of need, but which at the same time will let you always
feel your weakness, as if you were going to fall at each
step. But do not expect this help as a benefit which is
yours by right. You would deserve to lose it, if you
presumed to think you had deserved it. We must
think ourselves unworthy of all things, and must throw
ourselves humbly into the arms of God.
When it is love that is attracting you, give yourself
up to loving : but do not rely upon anything that may
be sensible in this attraction, to make of it a flattering
support for yourself: this would be to turn the gift of
God into illusion. True love is not always a love that
we feel and that charms us ; it is a love that humbles
us, that detaches us, that makes the soul little and
lowly, simple and obedient, patient under crosses, and
ready to be corrected.
I am very sincerely devoted to you in our Lord.

284 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
l6l. (192.)
Upon the life of faith ; upon detachment and interior
peace. October 16, 1714.
I have just returned from rather a long journey,
making visitations. I find your letter of the 30th of
August, to which I now reply.
(1) Walk in the darkness of pure faith and in evan
gelical simplicity, without letting yourself be stopped
either by inclination or feelings or lights of the reason
or extraordinary gifts. Content yourself with believing,
with obeying, and with dying to yourself, according to
the state of life in which God has placed you.
(2) You must not be discouraged at your involuntary
distractions, which only come from the liveliness of
your imagination and from the habit of thinking of
your affairs. It is enough if you do not give occasion
to these distractions which come to you during prayer,
by a voluntary dissipation during the course of the day.
We open our hearts too much sometimes ; we do even
our good works with too much eagerness and activity :
we follow after our inclinations and consolations too
much : God punishes us for all this in prayer. We
must accustom ourselves to act in peace, and with a
continual dependence upon the spirit of grace, which
is a spirit of death to all the most secret operations of
self-love. (3) Your habitual intention, which is the tendency of
the soul towards God, is sufficient. This is to walk in
the presence of God. Events could not find you in
this disposition, if you were not already in it. Remain
in it in peace, and do not lose what you have within
your reach by running abroad after that which you

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 285
will not find. I will add that you must never neglect,
through dissipation, to have a more distinct intention :
but an intention that is not distinct and developed is
good. (4) The peace of the heart is a good sign, when we
wish besides in good faith to obey God through love,
with jealousy against self-love.
(5) Profit by 3rour imperfections to be detached
from yourself, and attached to God alone. Labour
to acquire virtues, not that you may seek a dangerous
self-complacency in them, but that you may do the
will of the Beloved.
(6) Remain in your simplicity, cutting short your
uneasy reflections upon yourself, which self-love will
incessantly put forward under fine pretences. They
will only trouble your peace and lay snares for you.
When we are leading a recollected, mortified life, in
dependence upon God, from a true desire of loving
Him, the delicacy of this love will reproach us interiorly
with all that could wound it : we must stop short at
once, as soon as we feel this wound and this reproach
to our heart. Once more I say, remain in peace. I
pray God every day at the altar that He raa.y keep you
united to Himself, and in the joy of the Holy Ghost.
I am devoted to you with a sincere zeal.
162. (193O*
Advice upon our conduct to our servants.
A rider who curbs the mouth of his horse too
severely makes of it soon but a sorry animal. On the
contrary, we elevate the minds and the hearts of our
* We do not know to whom this fragment of a letter was
addressed. It was found, as well as the one immediately following
it, among the letters of Fenelon to the Duchesse de Mortemart.

286 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
servants, by never showing them anything but polite
ness and dignity with benevolent intentions. If we
cannot always grant what they ask of us, at least we
can always make them feel that we regret being obliged
to refuse them. Moreover, we must give to each one,
in the exercise of his duties, the authority that it
is necessary for him to have over his inferiors ; for
nothing can go on regularly, unless there is a subordi
nation, to which many things must be sacrificed.
Although you may perceive the faults of a servant,
take great care not to take a dislike to him on that
account in the first instance. Weigh equally the good
and the evil in him : and think yourself very fortunate
if you find some qualities which are essential. Judge
of this servant by comparing him with so many others
who are more imperfect ; think of the means of correct
ing him of some of his faults, which perhaps only come
from a bad education. As for the faults which arise
from his natural character, do not hope to cure those ;
confine yourself to trying to soften them, and bear
with them patiently. If you wish, in spite of previous
experience, to correct a servant of certain faults, which
are, as it were, the very marrow of his bones, it is
not he who will be wrong in not being corrected, but
it is you who will be wrong in still attempting his
correction. Never tell them of several of their faults
at the same time ; you will instruct them very little
and will discourage them very much : you must only
show their faults to them little by little, and in propor
tion as you find the3^ have courage to bear the sight of
them and to profit by it.
Speak to them, not only to give them orders, but
also for three other things : (i) to interest yourself
affectionately in their affairs ; (2) to tell them of their
faults quietly; (3) to praise them for what they have

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 287
done well ; for they must not imagine that we are
sensible only to what they do amiss, and that we pay
no attention to that which they do well. We must
encourage by a moderate but a cordial praise.
Whatever faults a servant may have, so long as he is
in your service, you must treat him well. If, in addition,
he is of a certain rank above the others, the others must
see that you speak to him with consideration : other
wise, you would degrade him in their sight ; you would
make him useless in his position ; you would give him
horrible pain ; and he would leave you perhaps at last
carrying everywhere the story of his wrongs. As for
those servants of whom you know the good sense, the
discretion, the uprightness, and the affection they have
for you, listen to them ; show them all the confidence
of which you think them worthy ; for this is what
gains the hearts of disinterested people. A kind and
generous manner has much more effect upon them
than even material benefits. The art of seasoning
that which we give by the sweet and gracious way in
which we give it, is above all other arts.
Never owe anything to your servants : if you do,
you are a slave to them. It would be better to be in
debt to other larger creditors, who are more able to
wait for their money and less in a situation to speak
against you, or to take advantage of your delay in
paying them.
It is necessary that the wages or rewards of servants
should be upon a reasonable footing; for if you give
less than other moderate people of your rank, the
servants are discontented, they think you are avaricious,
they wish to leave you, and serve you without affection.
To be able to practise all these rules, we must begin
by an entire conviction of the necessity of following
them, and we must give a serious attention to them

SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

before God ; then, we must foresee the occasions on
which we are in danger of failing in them ; we must
humble ourselves in the presence of God, but calmly
and without vexation, every time that we are conscious
of having failed ; and finally, we must let God do what
we cannot do of our own strength, in the peace of
recollection. 163- (194O
Fenelon speaks in detail of his own soul, and of the
faults in his own character.
I never wish to flatter any one ; indeed, from the
moment that I perceive any self-seeking in anything I
am saying or doing, I cease to act or to speak thus.
But I am nothing but dirt- and misery, and I experience
that I am committing faults at every moment, through
not acting by grace. I fall back upon humbling myself
by the sight of my pride. I am attached to everything
in a certain way, and this is indeed incredible ; but in
another way I am attached to things very little, for I
let myself easily enough be detached from the greater
part of things that please me. For all this, I do not
feel the less a deeply-rooted attachment to myself.
For the rest, I cannot really explain my interior. It
escapes me, it seems to me to change from one hour to
another. I could scarcely say anything about it that
would not seem false to me a moment afterwards. The
fault that is always there, and that it is easy for me to
acknowledge, is that I rely on myself too much, and
that self-love often rules my decisions. I even act
very much through natural prudence and by human
methods. My natural temperament is exactly the
opposite of yours. You have not an obliging and
flattering spirit as I have, when nothing fatigues me or

HUMILITY AND SELF-RENUNCIATION. 289
irritates me in the society of others. In this you are
much colder and more reserved than I am ; you think
that, in this matter, I go so far as to spoil people, and
it is quite true. But when people require of me certain
constant attentions, which put me out of my way, then
I am cold and cutting, not from indifference or harsh
ness but from impatience and irritability of tempera
ment. In addition to this, I believe almost all that you
say to me ; and for the little which I do not find in
myself agreeing with your remarks, besides acquiescing
in it with all my heart without being conscious of it
and waiting for God to show it to me, I also think that
I see in myself things that are infinitely worse, by my
acting so much in accordance with the bent of my
natural character, and a natural character that is very
bad. The one thing among your observations that I
am tempted not to believe is, that I had formerly a
humility, which I have not now. I am wanting very
much in humility, it is true ; but I do'ubt if I was less
wanting in it formerly. Nevertheless, I may easily be
deceived in this.
You do not tell me if you have received news of
N  . If you have, why do you not tell me a little
about them ?

**

290 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

LETTERS OF CONSOLATION.
I64. (195.)
That great sufferings are a remedy for the evils of
our nature.
It is a poor consolation, madam, to tell you that I
feel for your grief. It is nevertheless all that human
helplessness can do ; and if it wishes to do something
more, it must have recourse to God. It is to Him,
then, that I turn, madam, to that Comforter of the
afflicted, to that Protector of the weak. I beg of Him,
not to take away your grief, but to make it profitable to
you, to give you strength to bear it, not to allow it to
overwhelm you.
The sovereign remedy for the extreme evils of
our nature, is this great and lively suffering. It is
in the midst of suffering that the great mystery of
Christianity is accomplished, that is to say, the interior
crucifixion of man. It is there that all the virtue of
grace is developed, and that its most secret operation
takes place, which is to teach us to tear ourselves away
from self; without this, the love of God is not in us.
We must forsake ourselves, to be able to give ourselves
to God. And in order that we may be constrained to
forsake ourselves, it is necessary that a deep wound in
our heart should turn all created things into bitterness
for us. Thus our heart, wounded in its very depths,
troubled in its tenderest, most legitimate, and most
innocent attachments, feels clearly enough that it can
no longer hold out within itself; it escapes from itself,
and flies to God. This, madam, is the great remedy
for the great evils with which sin has overwhelmed us.
It is a violent remedy, but then the evil is also very

LETTERS OF CONSOLATION. 2gi
deep. This is the true support of Christians in their
afflictions. God strikes two persons who are living in a holy
union ; He bestows a great benefit upon them both ;
He places one of them in glory, and the loss of this
friend turns into a remedy for her who remains in
this world. This, madam, is what God has done for
you. May He, by His Holy Spirit, awaken all your
faith, that you may be penetrated by these truths ! I
will pray incessantly that He may do so, madam, and
as I have great confidence in the prayers of good
people in affliction, I beg of you to pray for me, in the
midst of your grief. Your charity will tell you perfectly
.as to what I need, and will lead you to ask it earnestly
for me.

165. (196.)
On the death of a friend, who had been tried by great
sufferings.
God has taken that which belonged to Him : has
He not done well ? It was indeed time that F 
should rest from all his sufferings ; he has had very
great ones, and he never thought of himself at all, in
the midst of them : it was never a question of 'himself,
but always of the will of the Master Who was guiding
him. Crosses are only good in proportion as we give
ourselves up to them, and forget ourselves while we are
bearing them. Forget yourself then, sir ; otherwise all
your sufferings will be useless. God does not make us
suffer, simply that we may suffer, but that we may die
to self by sheer forgetfulness of self, in a state where
such forgetfulness is the most difficult, that is, in a
state of pain.

292 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
I share in the grief of the good Abbe for F  . I
know how united they were, and I have been charmed
to see it. Such a death has nothing but what is con
soling about it. He is nearer to us now than he was :
there is no longer a curtain to conceal him from us ;
the veil of faith is raised for those who love with a pure
and disinterested love.

166. (197.)
Upon the edifying death of a lady.
You have lost a good friend, madam, and I am
certain that you are not insensible to this loss. As for
myself, I feel it with all my heart, on your account.
Moreover, I am very much touched, and shall be so all
my life, with all that I have seen in this lady. It is to
you that I owe all the edification which I have received
from her. She is very happy to have finished with this
life, and to have finished it in suffering.
Nevertheless, I have a difficulty in believing that
there remains nothing more to expiate in those persons
who have loved God with so much delight, and who
have taken so much pleasure in doing penance. The
purgatory of this life appears to me to consist less in
these fervent austerities, than in interior trials. It
seems to me that only at the cost of great sacrifices can
we become purified from all the remains of self-love,
and can we perfectly fulfil the precept of the Gospel, to
renounce ourselves for the sake of pure love. I pray
God, madam, that this fire may consume all that there
is of straw and of wood in our work, and may leave us
nothing but the gold of disinterested charity.

LETTERS OF CONSOLATION. 293
167- (198.)
On the death of a common friend. That we must be
content that God should do with us as He pleases.
God has done His own will : He has taken that
which belonged to Him ; and He has taken from you that
which was not your own. You yourself belong entirely
to Him. I know how much you wish to be His : you
have only to sacrifice everything to Him, when the
occasion comes. He has taken care of everything,
even when He took away our dear A  . The sudden
ness of his death was a dispensation of Providence, to
save him from temptations. When God has advanced
His own work to the point He has marked out for it,
He fixes the good-will which He has inspired, and He
delivers His children from all their irresolutions. He
veils the last sacrifice, to save them from the horror of
it. Let Him do as He will. Let us go straight to Him.
Do not listen to yourself. Distrust your temperament,
which is rather a melanchoby one, and distrust still
more your mind, which is too much given to reflection.
I am in a state of peace that is very bitter, and I
wish you this peace, without wishing 3'ou the bitterness
of it. It would be impossible for me to tell you more
about myself in detail : I do not understand my own
state ; all that I wish to say about it seems to me
untrue, and becomes so for the moment. Often death
would be a consolation to me ; often I am cheerful and
everything amuses me. 'To tell you why I am sometimes
one thing and sometimes another, is what I cannot do ;
for I have no real reasons for either.
Considering all things, I think that I am in my right
place, and I do not imagine that there are in the world
any other places than those to which my duties attach

294 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
me. If I could see you, I should be very glad ; but not
being able to do so, it is enough for me to find myself
quite near you in spirit, notwithstanding the distance
of situation. Let us remain united in this way, as long
as Providence keeps us apart.

168. (199.)
That religion alone can give us true consolation, when
we lose those who are dear to us.
Cambrai, November 12, 1701.
I am sensibly touched, sir, at the loss you have just
suffered. It is a great loss also for the public, and I
know how rare it is to find so many estimable qualities
in so important a position. Besides, I know the tender
ness and sensitiveness of your heart, and I understand
all you are suffering on so sad an occasion. For
myself, it seems to me that I can never feel too deeply
all that concerns you. The more I have experienced
your friendship for me, the more I learn, from your
example, how much we ought to interest ourselves in
our true friends. Why cannot I be near you, sir, to
share in your grief and try to console it !
You know from whence comes true comfort when we
lose those who are dear to us. Religion cannot console
us in a better way, than by telling us that the3' are not
really lost to us, and that there is a country, and that
country our own, to which we are drawing nearer every
day, which will reunite us all. Let us not sorrow then
as those who have, no hope. I am deprived of the
pleasure of seeing, you, but I look forward to the time
when this life . shall pass away, and I hope that we shall
soon find each other again - for ever in God. Those

LETTERS OF CONSOLATION. 295
who die are in the same way, with regard to us, only
absent from us for a few years, perhaps for a few
months. This apparent loss of our friend ought to
serve to disgust us with a place where everything is
lost, and makes us love the place where everything is
found again.
The sincere religion which, I know, fills your heart,
makes me hope, sir, that so severe a blow will be
salutary for you. God only strikes us in love, and He
only takes away to give again. I pray Him to comfort
you, to preserve your health, for which I fear in this
trial, and to turn your heart entirely to Himself. Happy
is he who lives by faith, who relies only upon God, and
who is in this world as though he were not there !
No one can honour you with their whole heart,
more than I shall do all my life. It is a feeling which
gives me pleasure, and I cannot think of you without
emotion. After speaking to you like this, it seems
to me that I ought to omit all other words of mere
ceremony. I owe them to you ; but I am sure, sir,
that you will dispense with these from me, and that
you will be contented with a heart that is devoted to
you without reserve. 169. (201.)
That the loss of those dear to us serves to detach us
entirely from creatures.
The letter which you have done me the honour of
writing to me has cost me many tears. The grief of
your loss is joined to my own grief; but I think we
must both, notwithstanding all our bitter sorrow, enter
into the designs of God. He wishes to reward the
friend whom we regret, and to detach us from him.
He even wishes, for His own glory, to take away from

296 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

us a human support, upon which we were relying too
much. He is jealous of the most worthy instruments,
and He wishes that we should expect the accomplish
ment of His work from Himself alone.
The principal fruit which God has prepared for you
in this trial, is to teach you, by a sensible experience,
that you are not yet as detached as you thought you
were. We only know ourselves when the occasion
comes, and the occasion is only given by Providence to
undeceive us as to our superficial detachment. God
permitted the lamentable fall of St. Peter, to undeceive
him with respect to a certain sensible fervour and
a very frail courage, to which he vainly trusted. If
you had only an exterior cross, however great and
painful it might be, it would not undeceive you as to
your detachment : on the contrary, the more over
whelming a cross is in itself, the more you would take
credit to yourself for not being overwhelmed by it ; this
would be an immense increase to your confidence in
yourself, and consequently a very dangerous delusion.
The cross only produces humility and the feeling of our
own misery, in proportion as our interior appears to us
to be empty and dark, while at the same time we are
shaken from without. We must see the poverty of our
inmost soul, and bear it ; then our poverty will be
turned into a treasure, and we shall have all in having
nothing. Let us unite ourselves in heart with him whom we
mourn. He sees us, he loves us, he is touched with
our needs, he prays for us. He says to you still, as he
said to you so often when he was living in the midst of
us: "Live only by faith; do not rely upon the regu
larity of your good works, or the beauty of your virtues ;
bear peacefully the sight of your imperfections ; abandon
yourself to Divine Providence ; do not listen to your

LETTERS OF CONSOLATION. 2g7
own spirit, listen only to the spirit of grace." This is
what he always said ; this is what he still says to your
heart. Far from having lost him, you will find him
more present with you, more united to you, more able
to help you for your consolation, more persuasive in
his counsels of perfection, if you are willing to change
into a companionship of pure faith the visible com
panionship which you had with him at all hours. For
myself, I find a real consolation of heart in being very
often in spirit with him.
Take care of your health, for the sake of your
family, which has great need of you. Let the courage
of faith sustain you. This is a courage that has nothing
of pride about it, and that does not give a sensible
strength upon which we can rely. We-find no resource
within ourselves, and yet we are not found wanting
when the occasion comes : we are rich in our poverty.
If we commit any fault unintentionally, we turn it to
our profit by the humiliation which it causes us. We
draw always towards our centre, by our acquiescence
in all that dispossesses us of our own heart. We
give ourselves up to God, no longer retiring into
ourselves and shutting Him out from thence, and
daring no more to trust to ourselves. Then, little
by little, all becomes recollection, silence, dependence
upon grace from one moment to another, and interior
life in perpetual death. In this state, we no longer
possess anything of all that we see, and we find again
in God, in the simplest and closest union, all that we
thought we had lost.

ELIZABETH HAMILTON,
COMTESSE DE GRAMONT,
Was born in Scotland in the year 1641 ; she was the daughter
of George, Lord Hamilton, and of Mary Butler, his wife-
About the year 1660, she married Philibert de Gramont, the
son of Antoine de Gramont, the second of that name, and
known by the Memoirs published under his name. The
Comtesse became soon afterwards a lady in waiting to
Queen Maria Teresa of Austria, wife of Louis XIV.
About the year 1684, she put herself under the direction
of Fenelon, who, without being her confessor, directed her
by his advice, until the time of his leaving the Court. The
happy effects of this direction were not long in showing
themselves, as we learn from the Journal de Dangeau. " The
Comtesse de Gramont," he says, " is altogether given up to
devotion. For a long time she concealed it, but now she
makes a mystery of it no longer " (October 15, 1687).
The correspondence of Fenelon with this lady embraces a
period of about twelve years, and shows that his counsels were
no less useful to the husband than to the wife. A dangerous
illness, which attacked the Comte de Gramont in 1692, was the
cause of his reflecting seriously upon the carelessness of his
life. The Journal, from which we have already quoted, speaking
of this illness, under the date of December 3, 1692, says that
the Comte had received the sacraments, and an anonymous
note adds : " The Comtesse taught him, during this illness,
the first rudiments of religion, and as she was repeating the
Pater to him : ' Madam,' said he, ' repeat that to me once
more, that is a beautiful prayer ; who composed it ?' ... So
great was his ignorance."
The Comte and the Comtesse de Gramont both showed
the most constant friendship and attachment to the Arch-

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 2gg
bishop of Cambrai during the time of his disfavour at Court.
But the exile of the Prelate had, in the end, disastrous conse
quences for Madame de Gramont, who gradually gave her
confidence to the founders of Port Royal, and under these
new directors allowed herself to be drawn into a party-spirit
that was very unbecoming in a person of her sex and rank.
Her husband died on January 30, 1707, aged eighty-six, and
she herself followed him to the grave the year after, dying
on June 3, 1708, at the age of sixty-seven.
The original letters of Fenelon to the Comtesse de
Gramont were found in the year 1780, in the possession of
the Empress Maria Teresa, who professed a tender veneration
for the memory of the holy Archbishop of Cambrai. She
had received these letters from Lady Hamilton, the daughter
of the Comtesse de Gramont, who was married, in 1694, to
Henry Howard, Earl of Strafford, afterwards known by the
name of Lord Hamilton. On the death of the Empress,
these letters came into the hands of the Comtesse de
Vasques, mistress of the robes, who transmitted them after
wards to her great niece, Countess Wolkenstein, formerly
Countess Stahremberg. The letters are now — (1827) — in
Paris, in the hands of General Count Andreossy, who
obtained possession of them in 1809, during his embassy to
Vienna.

LETTERS TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT.
170. (202.)
On the means of sustaining ourselves in the midst of the
dangers we meet with in the world.
Paris, June 1 1 .
I was in the country, madam, when you did me
the honour of writing me a, note, dated from your
hermitage. I should certainly have gone there to
receive your orders had I been in Paris. I hope that
some journey of yours here, or some business which

300 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
will take me to Versailles, may make up to me for this
loss. One thing is certain, madam, and that is, that I
wish for you every day, and with all my heart, the
recollection and fidelity of spirit to God, which you
need so much to help you to overcome the dangers of
your position. You have much to fear, from within
and from without. Without, the world smiles at you,
and that portion of the world which is most able to
minister to pride gives to your pride all that can flatter
it, by the tokens of consideration you receive at Court.
Within, you have to overcome your inclination for a
luxurious life, a haughty and contemptuous spirit, and
a long habit of dissipatiorf^-AU this put together, is
like a strong torrent which carries you away, in spite
of your best resolutions. The true remedy for so many
evils is, first and foremost, to rescue some hours and
to apply them regularly to prayer and spiritual reading.
You know, madam, all that I have had the honour of
saying to you several times on this matter. I pray our
Lord to tear you away from all things, rather than let
you become a prey to the world.

171. (203.)
On the subject of a scandal which had just come to
light in the world.
Tuesday, December 10 [1686] .
I hear, madam, that the scandal which has just
come to light has renewed the reasonable sorrow which
such adventures have caused you. I share that sorrow
with you most truly, and I am deeply interested in all
that affects you.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 30I
That which grieves me most in these unfortunate
affairs is that the world, which is only too well accus
tomed to judge ill of good people, concludes from such
scandals that there are no good people on earth. Some
are delighted to believe this, and triumph malignantly
over it ; others are troubled at it, and notwithstanding
a certain desire they might have of turning towards
good, they remain estranged from devotion through
their distrust of all devout people.
Men are astonished to see a man, who pretended
to be good, or rather, who had really been converted
in retirement, fall again into his bad desires and
habits, as soon as he is exposed again to the dangers
of the world. Do they not know that man is weak,
that the example of the world is contagious, and
that those who are weak can only preserve themselves
by flying from dangerous occasions ? What is there
new in this ? What a great commotion about the fall
of a tree that had no roots, and was attacked by every
wind that blew ! After all, has not the world also its
hypocrites of uprightness, as well as of devotion ?
When we meet with these pretended honourable
people, ought we to conclude that there are none
-really honourable.?' *¦¦•¦- .-. 4
When the world is triumphant because of such a
scandal, it is a proof that the world knows very little
either of men or of virtue. We must be grieved at
this scandal ; but we need not be surprised at anything,
when we know the depth of human misery, and to
what a degree the little good we do is only in us as a
thing that is borrowed. Let him who stands upright
tremble for fear of falling; let him who is on the
ground, crawling in the mud, not triumph at seeing
the fall of one of those who seemed to stand upright.
Our confidence is not in frail men, nor in ourselves, for

302 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
we are as frail as all the rest ; it is in God alone, Who
is the unchanging Truth. Let all men show that they
are only men, that is to say, only nothingness, false
hood, and sin ; let them all be drawn away into the
torrent of iniquity ; the truth of God would not be
weakened by it, and the world would only be the more
abominable for having corrupted those who were
seeking after virtue.
As for hypocrites, time unmasks them, and they
always betray themselves in some way. The3' are only
hypocrites, that they may enjoy the fruit of their
hypocrisy. Either their life is one of sloth and amuse
ment, or their conduct is self-interested and ambitious.
We see them behave with great caution, flatter others,
and act many different parts. Sincere virtue is simple,
uniform, unaffected, with no rc^stery about it ; it
neither exalts itself nor lowers itself; it is not desirous
of reputation or of success. It does the least evil it
can ; it suffers itself to be judged, and is silent ; it is
contented with little ; it does not intrigue, or plan, or
pretend. Take it or leave it, it is always the same.
Hypocrisy can imitate all this, but very coarsely. If
we are deceived, it is either from want of attention, or
from want of experience in true virtue. People who
know nothing about diamonds, or who do not look at
them closely enough, might take false diamonds for
real ones, but it is nevertheless true that there are real
diamonds, and that it is not impossible to recognize
them. The truth is, that before we trust in people
who appear virtuous, we must observe in them a
simple, solid, and constant conduct which has been
tested by dangers and is far removed from affectation,
but firm and vigorous in all that is essential.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 303
172. (204.)
That we must act with simplicity in all things.
Sunday, June 12 [1689] .
My health, thank God, is going on well, madam ;
it is in such a state as to justify the use of quinine, and
to silence all the enemies of this remedy. The marks
of kindness which you show me give me a sensible
pleasure, and I am very much obliged to my fever for
having obtained them for me.
You must be in jest, madam, with your careful dis
cretion. When you wish me to have the honour of
seeing you, you have only to command me. A simple
and ingenuous conduct pleases God too much, to be
able to shock people who wish to serve Him, and who
ought to speak in His name and recommend simplicity.
Be simple therefore in everything, madam, and as
simple in commanding me to come and see you as in
all the rest.
I hope that you will be able to put the troublesome
affairs which have brought you to Paris, in some kind
of order. I fancy that you will see one person very
much intoxicated ; for the journey will have got into
his head. There are very different kinds of intoxi
cation. Holy Scripture says : Be drunk, and not with
wine.if) There is a drunkenness of pride, there are
others of anger and revenge ; there are others of zeal
and fervour. It was thus that the Apostles seemed to
be drunk when they had received the Holy Ghost.
On your return, madam, I hope to see you in this
state of holy intoxication. Meanwhile, I will pray with
all my heart for you. (") Is. xxix. 9,

304 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
173- (205-)
Thanks for the interest she took in his nomination to the
post of Governor to the Duke of Burgundy.
Paris, August 25, 1689.
I am very much ashamed, madam, when I think of
the promptness with which you did me the honour to
write to me and of my own delay in offering you my
humble thanks for your letter ; but no one knows better
than you, madam, how to pardon the faults which
come from embarrassment. You know what I must
think of that which has just happened to me. You,
who sigh at Court, madam, you must in charity pray
to God for those who are obliged to live there. You
will never find any one there who has a more sincere
respect for you than I have.

174. (206.)
He tells her that she must steal some hours from the
affairs of the world, to nourish her piety, and must
not be discouraged at the sight of her weakness.
Sunday, October 2 [1689].
I think, madam, that you have two things to do,
one as to your affairs, the other as to yourself.
The first, with regard to your affairs, consists in the
care you ought to take to steal from the world a little
time for your spiritual reading and prayer. It seems to
me as if I saw all your difficulties, so clearly are they
represented to me ; but, after all, it is necessary that
affairs should come each in their proper turn, and that
the affair of your salvation should take rank as the first

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 305
of all. What would you say of a person who found no
time to eat and to sleep ? The time given to the
necessities of life, you would tell him, is the time that
is the best employed, even for other affairs. If your
health gives way, how can you do anything ? and of
what use would your labour be, if your life failed you
before you could reap the fruit of it ? I say the same
to you, madam : if 3'ou let your soul become exhausted,
and suffer it to faint away for want of nourishment, of
what use are, not only your conversations, but even
other affairs which appear -to you to be the most
solid, the most indispensable, and the most important ?
Martha, Martha, thou art careful and art troubled about many
things ! Mary, whom thou seest there, recollected and
motionless, hath chosen the better part, which shall not be
taken away from her. if)
However, madam, I do not say all this to throw
you into scruples about necessary occupations ; but be
persuaded that necessary occupations will never go so
far as to leave you no time to eat the daily bread which
is necessary for 3'our nourishment ; for God is too good,
and has made you feel His mercy too much, to deprive
you of the means of praying to Him, and being
sustained in the sentiments with which he has inspired
3'ou. Think then of securing to yourself a short half-
hour every morning and evening. By pretending to
awake later in the morning, and, in the evening, by
having a letter to write, or something of that kind, we
escape from observation, and really important affairs
do not suffer in consequence.
We must also profit by all our little moments of
leisure ; when we are waiting for some one, when we
are going from one place to another, when we are
with people who like talking and whom we need not
(«) Luke x. 41, 42.
u ' **

306 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
answer, we can raise up our hearts to God for an
instant, and so renew the life of our soul before
continuing our occupation. The less time we have, the
more important it is to arrange it well. If we wait until
we can have regular and convenient hours to ourselves
to occupy them with solid things, we run the risk of
having to wait too long, especially when one is leading
the kind of life that you are leading ; but we must take
and use all the little breaks and pauses in our day.
It is not with piety as it is with temporal affairs.
Temporal affairs require free and regular times for a
continuous and prolonged application ; but piety has
no need of such close and continuous application ; in
one moment we can remember the presence of God,
can love and adore Him, can offer Him all we are
doing or all we are suffering, and can calm all the
agitations of our heart before Him. Take then,
madam, half an hour in the morning, and another
half-hour in the afternoon, to repair the ravages which
the world makes in your soul ; and during the course
of the day, make use of the thoughts which touch you
most, to renew within you the sense of the presence of
God. The other thing that you have to do with regard
to yourself, is not to be discouraged, either at the
experience of your own weakness, or by your disgust
at the agitated life you are leading. It is a mercy of
God that you groan over this agitation, and this
groaning of yours is the antidote which prevents your
heart from being corrupted by the dissipation of the
Court. This is why I should be very sorry if this life
ceased to displease you. Your complaints and your
disgust give me a real joy. God will make you die to
yourself by this disgust for the world, if it is sincere,
even in the midst of the world itself; just as He makes

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 307
other persons die to themselves by solitude and the
deprivation of all that the world can give. It is only
a question of being faithful, patient, and peaceful under
the crosses of your present state, which you did not
choose for yourself, and in which God has placed you,
according to His designs for you.
As for our faults, they are still more bitter to bear ;
but they can be turned to our good, if we make use of
them to humble ourselves, without relaxing our efforts
to correct them. Discouragement can never remedy
anything ; it is only the despair of offended self-love.
The true means of profiting by our humiliation for our
faults, is to see them in all their ugliness, without losing
our hope in God, and without hoping anything from
ourselves. No person ever had a more urgent need of
being humbled by her faults than you have. It is only
by that that God can crush your pride, and confound
your presumptuous wisdom. When God has taken away
from you all your resources in yourself, He will begin
to build His edifice. Until that happy time, He will
let you ruin all your plans by means of all your faults.
Let Him do as He will; labour humbly without
promising yourself anything.
When you wish me to have the honour of seeing you
from time to time, I will go to the house of the
Duchesse de Chevreuse.

308 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

175. (207.)
That we must reserve to ourselves hours of solitude ;
and bear patiently with the importunities of others
and with our own imperfections. On the means of
acquiring humility. Thursday, February 23, 1690.
I am very glad, madam, to hear that you have at
last found means of reserving to yourself some hours of
solitude. To open our door very late and let it appear
as though we were still sleeping, and also to seek a
quiet place away from our own house : these are good
means of protecting ourselves from importunate persons.
For the rest of 3?our time, you can be a little short with
certain people, who are only trying to amuse you, or
make you enter into their affairs more than is necessary.
With regard to those daily things, which are the
consequences attached to your duties, or occasions
furnished by Providence, although they may be incon
venient and distracting, you have only to bear them in
peace. It is a great consolation to be able to think
that God hides Himself under a person that is annoying
to us, just as He hides Himself under the most edifying
friends. Under the figure of the tiresome person we
must see God, Who is doing everything, and Who is
no less careful to mortify us by this importunity, than
to instruct and move us by good examples. The
tiresome person whom God sends to us serves to break
our will, to upset our plans, to make us desire silence
and recollection more ardently, to detach us from our
own arrangements, from our repose, our convenience,
and our inclinations; to humble our mind by accom
modating it to the mind of others ; to put us to

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 309
confusion, whenever we give way to impatience at
these contrarieties ; to excite in our hearts a greater
hunger after God, while He seems to withdraw from us
because of this agitation.
It is not that we must willingly agitate ourselves, or
ever expose ourselves, by our own choice, to the danger
of a society which might distract us ; God forbid ! this
would be to tempt God, and seek the danger ; but for
those interruptions and involuntary distractions, which
come to us in the order of Providence, and against
which we take precautions by reserving to ourselves
hours for spiritual reading and prayer, be sure they
will be for our good. All that is in the hand of God
must be fruitful there. Often even those very things
which make you long after solitude, are more useful
for your humiliation, and for helping you to die to
yourself, than the most perfect solitude would be. Let
us go on as God leads us, from day to day, profiting
by each moment, without looking further. Sometimes
delightful spiritual reading, or a fervent meditation,
or a conversation which charms you, might flatter your
taste, make you pleased with yourself and full of
yourself, persuade you that you are very far advanced,
and by giving you fine ideas about your crosses, might
only make you more proud, and less patient in bearing
the crosses which you would come across after coming
away from all these pious exercises. Keep then, madam,
to this simple rule : never willingly draw upon yourself
anything that may dissipate you, but bear in peace all
that God gives 3'ou, against your own wishes, to put
you out of your way. What a delusion ! we seek God
afar off, in projects that are perhaps impossible, and
we do not think that we possess Him at the present
moment, in the midst of all our cares, in a state of
pure faith, if only we will bear courageously with the

3IO SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
annoyances of creatures and with our own imper
fections. I have only one thing to sa3' to you upon the love of
your neighbour, and that is, that humility alone can
help you here ; it is only the sight of your own miseries
that can make you compassionate and indulgent to
those of others. You may say to me : I see quite well
that humility ought to help me to bear with my
neighbour ; but how am I to obtain humility ? Two
things together will produce humility ; never attempt
to separate them. The first is the sight of the abyss
of misery from which the powerful hand of God has
drawn you, and over which He still holds you
suspended, as it were, in the air. The second is the
remembrance of the presence of this God, Who is All •
it is only by seeing God and loving Him, that we forget
ourselves, that we are undeceived about the nothingness
that once dazzled us, and that we accustom ourselves
to grow small, and feel consolation in our littleness,
under this exalted Majesty, which swallows up every
thing else. Love God, and 3'ou will be humble ; love
God, and you will no longer love yourself ; love God,
and you will love all that He wishes you to love, for
His sake. 176. (208.)
That we must not trouble ourselves about faults
involuntarily omitted in confession.
Tuesday, March 21 [i6go].
I do not think, madam, that you ought to trouble
yourself about your past confessions and Communions.
If your beginnings were irregular, at least they were in
good faith, and you only committed faults in them by
the principle of a virtue very contrary to your natural

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 3II
character, I mean to say, by the simplicity of your
obedience. Besides, we must observe that the integrity
of past confessions consists, not in having then omitted
nothing of our faults, but only in our having candidly
accused ourselves of all those which we then knew.
You had not then the light to discover in the depths
of your soul many movements of malicious and
depraved nature, which are now beginning to show
themselves to you. In proportion as that light increases,
we find ourselves more corrupt than we could possibly
have believed ; we are quite astonished at our past
blindness, and we see issuing from the depths of our
hearts, as from a deep cavern, a multitude of shameful
feelings, like filthy and venomous reptiles. We never
could have believed we were carrying such things in
our breast, and we have a horror of ourselves, when we
see them come from us.
But we must be neither astonished nor discouraged.
It is not that we are more wicked than we were ; on the
contrary, we are really less wicked ; but while our evils
are growing less, the light that shows them to us is
increasing, and we are seized with horror. But remark,
for your consolation, that we do not perceive the extent
of our ills until we are beginning to be cured of them.
When we are deprived of all principle of cure, we
do not feel the severity of our malady ; this fairly
represents the state of blindness, of presumption, and
insensibility in which we are given up to ourselves.
When we let ourselves drift with the stream, we do not
feel how rapidly it is flowing ; but we begin to feel it
in proportion as we begin to struggle more or less
against it.
If you remember exactly things that are of con
sequence, which you omitted in your first confessions,
tell them simply the next time you go to confession.

312 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Your confessor is an upright, discreet man, full of the
Spirit of God. For all the rest, go peacefully on your
way. Be assured that humility, frequent silence, and
recollection will do you more good than all the austerities
and disturbance of mind by which you wish to do
penance. Above all things, silence is most important
for you. Even when you cannot altogether escape
from the world, you can often keep silence, and leave
the honours of the conversation to others. You can
only overcome your contemptuous, satirical, and haughty
spirit by keeping it, as it were, chained down by silence.
Set a severe guard over your lips. The thought of the
presence of God, which will restrain your words, will
also keep watch over all your thoughts and desires.
This work will be done by degrees. Be patient with
yourself as you are with others.

177. (209.)
That we must apply ourselves to silence and recollection.
On the usefulness of penances which are not to our taste.
I think, madam, that you must now endeavour to
keep silence, as much as the courtesy you owe to
society will permit you. Silence makes the practice
of the presence of God easy to us ; it saves us from
many harsh and proud words ; and finally it puts a
stop to a great many jests and rash judgments with
regard to our neighbour. Silence humbles our minds,
and detaches us gradually from the world ; it makes in
the heart a kind of solitude, which resembles the
solitude you are longing for ; it will supply all your
needs in the difficulties which are now surrounding
you; and if only you never speak without occasion,
you will have many free moments, even in the midst

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 313
of a society which detains you in spite of yourself.
You wish to have liberty to pray to God ; and God,
Who knows better than you do what is necessary for
you, puts difficulties in your way, and keeps you in
subjection, for your mortification. The mortification
which comes from God's will is more useful for you
than the sweetness of prayer which is of your own
choice and inclination.
You know well, madam, that a time of actual
retirement is not necessary for the love of God : if He
gives you such a time, 3'ou must take it and profit by
it ; but until then, remain in a state of faith, being well
persuaded that whatever He gives you is best for you.
Often raise up your heart to Him, without letting it be
perceived by others ; speak only from necessity ; suffer
patiently when you are thwarted in anything. As you
know what religion is, God treats you according to
your needs : it is more needful for you to be mortified,
than to receive light and consolation.
The only thing that I fear for you, in your present
state, is dissipation ; but you can avoid it by keeping
silence. If you are faithful in keeping silence, when
there is no necessity for you to speak, God will give
you the grace of not being dissipated, when you speak
from a real necessity. If you are not free to reserve
a long time of retirement for yourself, do not neglect
to contrive so to reserve a few short moments. Half
a quarter of an hour, taken with this contrivance and
fidelity, in the midst of your difficulties, is worth more
in the sight of God than whole hours given to Him at
a time when you are more free. Moreover, many little
moments, thus seized in the course of the day, amount
to something considerable at the end of it. Perhaps
even you will draw this advantage from such a practice,
that you will have remembered God more frequently,

314 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
than if you had only given a certain set time to
Him. To love, to be silent, to suffer, to act against your
inclinations, to do the will of God by accommodating
yourself to the will of your neighbour: this, madam,
is your portion. Too happy are you, thus to bear the
cross which God gives you with His own hands, in
the course of His providence ! The penances which
we choose for ourselves, or which we accept when
they are laid upon us, do not weaken our self-love as
those do which God Himself gives us each day. The
penances which God gives have nothing upon which
our will can lean ; and as they come immediately from
a merciful Providence, they bring with them a grace
proportioned to all our needs. We have only then to
give ourselves up to God every day, without looking
any farther ; He will carry us in His arms, as a tender
mother carries her little child. Let us believe, let us
hope, let us love with all the simplicity of little
children. In all our needs, let us turn our eyes in
love and confidence towards our Father in Heaven.
This is what is said in Holy Scripture : Can a woman
forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her womb ?
and if she should forget, yet will not I forget thee.if)
178. (210.)
That we must have no scruple in changing the hour for
our exercises of piety, when the duties of our state
require it. Exhortation to simplicity and Christian
childhood. Versailles, May 28 [before 1695] •
You fear, madam, to be unfaithful to God in the
matter of your duties towards Him, and you are right.
(°) Is. xlix. 15.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 315
Nothing is so opposed to grace as a cowardly soul
who, from an inclination to liberty, refuses God what
she knows He is asking of her, or who delays doing it.
But at the same time you must avoid falling into
scruples. Try to see simply, on all occasions, what
real courtesy requires of you. For instance, if, at the
moment when you are going to make your prayer or
your spiritual reading, a person were to come from
outside to see you, who never came before at that hour,
who really has business with you, and with whom you
are not sufficiently upon terms of familiarity to be able
to send him away till another time, and who would be
reasonably offended if you did so ; in such a case,
madam, you must not doubt that you ought to leave
your exercises of piety to fulfil this duty. But also you
must try to make up for the time you lose then, at
some other hour of the day, just as we dine at two
o'clock, if some one comes in inconveniently, and
prevents us from dining at mid-day. As for those
people who are not pressed by real business, and
whom you can put off to another time, or who only
come for their amusement and pleasure ; when you
are better engaged, they are only good to send away :
and you must not shrink from keeping them in their
proper place.
No person ever had more need than you have of
spiritual food, of silence, of meditation, of separation
from the world, of mistrust of herself and of the inclina
tion of her heart. You cannot fast too austerely from
the pleasures of worldly conversation. You require to
be abased continually : you will always raise yourself
up again, only too readily and too much. You require
to be humbled, to be treated as a child, to be wrapped
up in swaddling-clothes, and given broth to drink ; and
even then you will be a naughty child !

316 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
All the crosses which God gives you, and under
which He wishes you to bow your head, have not
yet overcome your pride. It will only be by dint of
renouncing your own spirit, in silence before God, that
you can be humbled and softened by grace. Speak
when you are alone : you cannot speak too much then ;
for it will be to God alone that you will speak then, of
your miseries, your needs, and your good desires. But
when you are in the company of others, you can hardly
fall into, the excess of speaking too little. Yet it must
not be a cold and contemptuous silence ; on the
contrary, it must be a silence of deference to others.
I should be delighted for you to speak, if it could
always be to praise, to approve, to yield, and to edify ;
but I am sure that, if you were to speak only in this
manner, you would speak very little, and the conversa
tion would seem very insipid to you. Reduce yourself
then, madam, to speaking little, to speaking simply
and modestly, to preferring others before yourself in
all. things, and to preserving recollection even during
conversation. You have more need than others of
this antidote.
You know how great is my zeal and my respect for
you. 179. (211.)
That we must avoid giving ourselves airs of contempt
and haughtiness ; and must bear patiently with the
faults of our neighbour. Versailles, June 22.
The last letter which you did me the honour of
writing to me, madam, has had a strange journey.
I have only just received it : you can judge by that
how quickly it has travelled.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 317
I quite understand what you are suffering, and how
you are making others suffer. You must labour
courageously and incessantly to load yourself with
y^our neighbour's burden, and so to relieve him. All
airs of contempt and haughtiness, all spirit of criticism
and mockery, are the signs of a soul that is full of
herself, that does not feel her own miseries, that gives
herself up to her fastidiousness, and takes her own
pleasure in the pain of others. Nothing is more calcu
lated to humble us, than this kind of pride that is so
ready to take offence, so satirical, so contemptuous, so
haughty, so jealous in desiring everything for itself, and
always so hard upon the faults of others. We are very
imperfect, when we bear so impatiently the imperfec
tions of our neighbour.
I see no other remedy for so many evils but hope
in God, Who is as good and powerful as you are weak
and bad. Nevertheless, He will allow you to languish
in 3'our misery for a long time, before He uproots your
natural faults and habits ; for it is much better for you
to be crushed by the sight of your own misery, and
by the experience of your powerlessness to escape from
it, than to enjoy all at once the pleasure of seeing your
self perfect. Think only of bearing with others, and of
turning away your eyes from people who cannot edify
you, just as we close our eyes to a temptation. It is a
very dangerous temptation for you. Pray, read ; humble
your mind by a taste for simple things. Soften your
heart by uniting it to the Child Jesus, Who was so full
of peace in the midst of humiliation. Seek your strength
in silence. I am delighted that you are interested in the
progress of Madam de Mortemart ; she is really good,
and wishes to be more and more so. It costs her as
much to be good as it does the rest of the world, and

3l8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
therefore she is the right person to encourage you. No
one can be more deeply interested than I am, madam,
in all the things that affect you most.

180. (212.)
Against excessive fear of enjoying innocent pleasures.
That we must follow the advice of our physicians,
with simplicity. Tuesday, June 27 [1690] .
I am sincerely grieved, madam, to hear of the
painful state in which you are. I think I can clearly
see the cause of it. If you can make up your mind to
use the simple remedy I am going to propose to you,
you will soon be relieved ; but I fear that a scruple may
prevent you from making use of it.
The excessive fear you have of enjoying any pleasure
in innocent and necessary things, does more harm to
your spiritual advancement, than the pleasure itself
could possibly do 3'ou. It is true that we must never
be too easy with ourselves, above all when we
are obliged to punish ourselves ; but this perpetual
struggle to repress even the least involuntary feeling
of pleasure in a good and regular life, is causing you
a trouble that is most hurtful to you. I advise you
then faithfully to mortify your excessive neatness and
cleanliness and the fastidiousnes of your taste, when
ever you are calmly conscious of them ; but I do not
wish you to have that forced attention in unceasingly
repressing the natural pleasure that is inevitably attached
to simple food and necessary repose. Since you are
ordered to take milk to refresh your blood, you ought
to do exactly as your physician tells you with regard
to fasting. We must allow others to judge for us,

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 319
without reasoning, when we have told them the facts
of the case ; otherwise, we are tossed about for ever,
and we torture ourselves. In all the other things
respecting your health, speak openly to your physician,
that he may not over-indulge you ; then let him decide,
and listen to yourself no more. But obey quietly : this
ought to be the fruit of your fidelity and courage.
Without this, you will not have the true peace of the
children of God, and you will not deserve to have it.
Bear all the sufferings of your state, which is full of
difficulties and subjections, in a spirit of penance ; it
is a penance which God gives you, and therefore much
safer than any penance you could choose for yourself.
There is no place in the world where you would not
find yourself again with all your old taste for pleasure.
The most austere solitude would have its dangers. The
best state for you is that in which the hand of God is
keeping you. Do not look beyond, and think only of
receiving all things from Him, from one moment to
another, in a spirit of death and self-renunciation.
But this state of resignation must be full of confidence
in God, Who loves you more in proportion as He
spares you less.
Sleep as long as your physician thinks necessary for
your constitution and your present indisposition. You
must have scruples about your scruples themselves,
but not about your sleep. No one can be more sincerely
and respectfully devoted to you, madam, than I am.

320 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

181. (213.)
Showing in what true humility consists; and that we
must hope in God notwithstanding our unworthiness.
Saturday, July 22 [i6go] .
It is a false humility to think ourselves unworthy
of the goodness of God, and not to dare to expect it
with confidence. True humility consists in seeing all
our unworthiness, and yet remaining abandoned to
God, not doubting that He is able to do the greatest
things in us. If God, for the accomplishment of His
work, had need of finding the foundations for it already
laid in us, we should be right in thinking that our sins
had destroyed everything, and that we were unworthy
to be chosen by the Divine wisdom. But God has no
need to find anything in us ; He can never find any
thing there that He has not first placed there Himself
by His grace. We might even say that the nothingness
of every creature, added to sin in an unfaithful soul,
was the most fit object to receive His mercies. It is
there that His mercies take pleasure in flowing freely,
that they may manifest themselves more sensibly.
Such sinful souls, who have never felt in themselves
anything but weakness, can attribute none of the gifts
of God to themselves. It is thus that God hath chosen
the weak things of the world, as St. Paul says, that He may
confound the strong. (a)
Do not then fear, madam, that your past infidelities
have rendered you unworthy of the mercy of God.
Nothing is so deserving of His mercy as a great misery.
He came down from Heaven to earth for sinners, and
not for the just ; He came to seek that which was lost,
{") 1 Cor. i. 27.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 321
and all was lost without Him. The physician seeks
the sick, and not the healthy. Oh, how God loves
those who present themselves boldly to Him, just as
they are, in their filthiest and most tattered rags, and
who ask of Him, as of their Father, a clothing worthy
of Himself! You are waiting until God shall show you
a sweet and smiling face, to familiarize you with Him ;
but I tell you that, if you will open your heart simply
to Him, with a loving familiarity, you need not be in
trouble about the kind of face which He will present to
3'ou. Let Him show you, as much as He pleases, a
severe and angry countenance, let Him do as He will :
He never loves us so much as when He threatens us ;
for He only threatens to try us, to humble and to
detach us.
Is it the consolation that God gives, or God Himself
without consolation, that your heart seeks? If it is
only the consolation, you are not loving God for His
own sake, but for your own. In such a case, you
deserve nothing from Him. If, on the contrary, you
are seeking God alone, with a pure love, you will find
Him still more when He tries you than when He
consoles you. When He consoles you, you have to
fear lest you should be more attached to His sweetness
than to Him ; but when He treats you roughly, if you
cease not to remain united to Him, it is to Him alone
that you are clinging. Alas ! madam, how we deceive
ourselves ! We are intoxicated with a vain consolation,
when we are sustained by sensible fervour ; we imagine
we are already ravished to the third heaven, and we
do nothing that is solid ; but when we are in a state
of dry and bare faith, then we are discouraged, and we
think that all is lost. In truth, it is then that every
thing is being perfected, provided we do not give way
to discouragement. Let God then do as He will
v **

322 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
is not for you to arrange what sort of treatment you
are to receive from Him ; He knows better than you
do what is necessary for you. You well deserve a
little desolation and trial ; bear it patiently. God, on
His part, does as He thinks proper, when He repulses
you. On your part, you too must do as you ought to
do, which is to go on loving Him, without expecting
Him to show you any love in return. Your constant
love will assure you of His ; your confidence will melt
Him at last, and will change all His severity into
caresses. Even if He should not be softened, you
must abandon yourself to His just conduct, and adore
His will in making you die upon the Cross in desolation,
with Jesus, His well-beloved Son.
This, madam, is the solid bread of pure faith and
generous love, with which you must feed your soul. I
pray God to make your soul strong and vigorous in
the midst of all its pains. Fear nothing : it would be
a want of faith to fear. Expect all things; and all
things will be given you : God and His peace will be
with you. Monday, July 24.
It is two or three days ago, madam, that this letter
was written : permit me to add a word about the news
from Ireland.* No one can share more than I do in
your just grief. I beg of God to console you, and to
let you hear of consequences less disastrous than this
beginning. * This relates to the Battle of the Boyne, in Ireland, lost by
James II. on the nth of the same month. The brother of the
Countess was serving in the army of King James II.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 323
182. (214.)
That we must adore the designs of God, in the revolutions
of this world. Thursday evening [1690] .
I know, madam, how much you feel about affairs in
England. Therefore I share in the sorrow you must
experience at the blow to the good cause in Ireland.
God knows what He wishes to do, and it is just that
we should be ignorant of it. We must adore His
designs, without understanding them. When I heard
this bad news, I was afraid that you might have in
that country some relation on whose account you would
be anxious. You could not have any grief, madam,
that did not sincerely affect me. If you wish me to
have the honour of seeing you, give me your commands,
without ceremony, as to time and place.
183. (215O
That we must not lean upon creatures ; and must humble
ourselves under the hand of God.
Friday, November 17 [i6go] .
I am very sincerely grieved, madam, at the mis
fortune of your brothers ; but while men abandon
them, you must interest God in their behalf by your
patience. He is the refuge of those who are persecuted,
and the comforter of the afflicted. He tries you by
the things which happen to your brothers ; but He
only tries you to detach you and to make you worthy
of Himself. He tells us that he that loveth father, or
mother, or brethren more than Me, is not worthy of Me.if)
(<¦) Matt. x. 37 ; Luke xiv. 26.

324 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
We must sacrifice flesh and blood to Him ; we must
sacrifice ourselves. He is the best of our friends, and
the nearest of our relations. Alas! madam, what do
you expect from men ? You do not then know them.
The3' are weak, inconstant, and blind : some of them
will not do what they can ; and others cannot do
what they will. The creature is a broken reed : if we
try to lean upon it, the reed bends, cannot support us,
and pierces our hand.
To come to a practical conclusion, this is what I
think. God has wounded you to the quick, by humbling
your pride ; the charitable physician has applied the
remedy to the sore and sensitive wound : so much the
better ; it is because He wishes to cure you. Be silent ;
adore the hand that strikes you ; do not open your
mouth except to sa3? : I have well deserved it. All
your speeches against the King and the Queen would
only serve as food for your feeling of revenge, without
doing you any good. You would do them harm,
without benefiting yourself at all ; thus you cannot in
conscience say anything : such an unbridled passion
would be scandalous.
For my own part, I believe that God was waiting
for you on this occasion ; and that it will decide, one
way or the other, as to your spiritual advancement.
If you lose the fruit of such a cross, you will be doubly
unfortunate, and you will fail in your duty to God in
a very dangerous manner. But how many graces are
attached to this cross, if you bear it courageously ! It
is by it that you will enter upon a new way, and will
run towards evangelical perfection. Do not hesitate
then, madam ; however bitter the chalice may be,
swallow it to the very dregs, as Jesus Christ did. I
pray Him to give you strength to do this, and not to
allow you to abandon yourself to unjust outbursts of

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 325
resentment. Jesus Christ died for those who were
putting Him to death, and He taught us to love and
bless and pray for those who curse us and persecute
us. Redouble your prayers in these times of trouble
and temptation. You will find in the Heart of Jesus
Christ dying upon the Cross, all that is wanting to
your own heart, to help it to love those whom your
pride would wish to hate and put to shame.
184. (216.)
On the compassion which she ought to show towards her
disgraced brother.
Sunday, November ig [i6go] .
You can show your brother, madam, a great deal
of sympathy and grief, and even overwhelming grief,
with regard to the misfortunes which have happened
to him. You may even add to all this a great eagerness
in seeking innocent means of helping him ; but you
must avoid letting him see that you also feel resent
ment against the people who are against him : this
would be to embitter his mind still more, and to
authorize the passions of hatred and revenge which
you ought to do your best to appease. Only tell him
the exact facts which it is necessary for him to know,
that he may understand the course of his affairs and
may take measures that are suitable for his real
interests ; do not tell him of circumstances which can
only poison his heart: by acting in this manner, you
will save him not only many temptations, but also a
great deal of pain of mind.
If you will come to-morrow, Monday, to the apart
ments of the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, I shall be there
at a quarter to eight in the evening, after evening

326 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
studies. I should be delighted, madam, to come and
pay my respects to you in your own house ; but you
would be less free there, and I should have a little
difficulty in doing so. 185. (217.)
That we must see our faults with humility, but without
trouble. Wednesday, April 4 [i6gi] .
I am very sorry, madam, to hear that you are doing
so badly ; but what consoles me is that you are dis
contented with yourself. This sincere discontent is
worth a great deal more than a most wonderfully good
behaviour, for which you would take credit to yourself.
If you wish me to have the honour of seeing you this
evening, I shall be free about six o'clock, and will
come to whatever place you may appoint. Although
I try to harden you against your crosses, and even
against the discouragement caused by your faults, I do
not cease to be affected by all your difficulties.
186. (218.)
That we must bear our crosses, in peace and humility.
Saturday, June 2 [i6gi] .
You are kind enough, madam, to excuse me from
coming to your house, on account of a bad cold which
confines me to my room. This has not, however,
prevented me from planning a letter, which I now send
you. You will take from it, without ceremony, if you
please, all that seems appropriate to your purpose, and
you will not doubt of my good-will.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 327
I pray God, not to deliver you from your crosses, if
they are necessary for you, but to make you bear them
with a humble and peaceful courage. Nature only
inspires us with a courage that is proud, and disdainful,
and irritated against the persons whom God makes use
of for our humiliation. Be great then in God and not
in yourself, great by your gentleness and patience, and
little by your humility. 187. (219.)
That we must easily pardon others their prepossessions.
Versailles, June 17 [1691].
You have always something to suffer,, madam, from
others, and from yourself. If you had only to suffer
from others, and if you experienced in yourself none of
the .miseries which you condemn in others, your poor
neighbour would appear to you as a monster who only
deserved to be suffocated. But God permits that you
should have a great deal to suffer from your own proud,
unjust, and rebellious temper, to teach you how to bear
with all that is irritating in other imperfect persons.
Pray observe, that self-love is insatiable, and is always
inclined to murmur. You would have thought yourself
too happy, a few months ago, if any one had promised
you the deliverance of your brother, and the joy of
seeing him for two days before he returned to serve
his King. All this has actually happened: and far
from thanking God for so unhoped-for a favour, you
complain of having seen so little of your brother.
Take care that you do not have your way, and that, by
his renewed disgrace, you are not made to see him
again for too long a time.
Why are you so angry with the King and Queen

328 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
of England ? Perhaps they are not able to do what
you wish, from reasons unknown to you ; perhaps you
ask too much ; perhaps their ideas are different from
yours, through their having been prepossessed by
others against your belongings. What then ? Is this
such an unpardonable crime in your eyes ? Is it not
an ordinary weakness with all men ? and where are
those who can entirely guard against it, however good
their intentions may be ? Have you never been
prejudiced about anything ? Cannot you possibly
forgive others for being so? Return, madam, to your
sentiments of humility, until charity shall have
vanquished your heart. If you cannot altogether
moderate and restrain yourself, at least humble your
self because you cannot ; reprove your pride, without
being discouraged. Try to quiet yourself in silence
before God, as a mother quiets her sobbing infant upon
her knees. Gradually calm will return to you by
means of recollection. If you will only profit by all
your free time at Dinan to be exact in spiritual reading
and prayer, all will be well. Crosses are necessary for
you, and God, Who loves you, will not fail to give
them to you. I pray of Him to give you also the
strength to bear them. 188. (220.)
That we must preserve our peace in the midst of crosses ;
and adore the hand that sends them to us.
Versailles, June 23 [i6gi] .
I cannot feel your grief, madam, as deeply as I
could wish. I see in it so many marks of mercy and
such a great harvest of grace for you, that if nature is
afflicted by it, faith ought to rejoice. You say that

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 329
you have lost hope, and that, without hope, you find
peace in unreserved submission and sacrifice. That
is exactly how God wishes you to be ; He has driven
you so far, to detach you from all that is not Himself.
What remains for you, but to embrace the cross that
He presents to you, and suffer yourself to be crucified ?
When He has crucified you thoroughly, He will comfort
you. But He does not do as creatures do, who give
poisonous consolation, which feeds the venom of self-
love ; He does not console until He has taken away
all the resources of a proud and weak nature. The
peace which you find in submission, without any
exterior relief or improvement in the circumstances of
your life, is a great gift. By it, God is accustoming
you to be tried without being cast down. Although
cowardly and sensitive nature may be crushed, yet the
depths of your soul are in peace. It is a peace all the
more pure because it is without consolation.
The thought of God, Who has every right to do as
He will with His creature, and the thought of your
own misery, which only deserves humiliations and
crosses, this is the bread with which you must nourish
yourself during this trial.
You consent to your trial; but you cannot under
stand why God should strike the innocent to purify the
guilty. Learn, madam, that no one is innocent, and no
one can enter into judgment with Him. How do you
know that the same blow which humbles you, may not
also humble your brother under the powerful hand of
God ? We must adore His deep designs without com
prehending them. Perhaps He wishes to prepare your
brother gradually, by so many misfortunes, to turn
sincerely to Him ; perhaps you will both rejoice one
day at that which grieves you so much now. Let God
do as He will, madam ; men can do nothing. When all

330 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
seems lost, sometimes all is saved. God takes pleasure
in bringing us to the verge of the precipice, and then
lifting us up from it by His own hand alone. But
whatever He may do for your brother, you have to
think of yourself, to accept your cross, and to adore
the hand that lays it upon you for your sanctification.
Happy is he who is ready for all things, who never
says, It is too much ; who relies not upon himself, but
upon the All- Powerful ; who desires no consolation
except that which God Himself is willing to give him,
and who feeds on the pure will of God alone !

189. (221.)
On the advantage of crosses borne in a Christian manner.
Versailles, September 9 [1691] .
I am very much ashamed of myself, madam, for
only having heard two hours ago that you have been
ill. Certainly I was told that you were in Paris, living
by rule, and making use of some protracted means of
cure, as you told me you were going to do, before your
journey to Dinan ; but I did hot know that you were
less well than usual, and I am quite ashamed to have
been so' ill-informed about things in which I take so
much interest. I am assured, madam, that we shall
soon have the honour of seeing you at Fontainebleau,
and that although you suffer very much, you begin to
feel that nature is overcoming the malady. This is
exactly what I could most wish for you in your illness j
a hope of being cured, and at the same time the fruit
of the Cross. I pray Him Who makes you suffer, to
give you peace and submission in the midst of your
pain. How happy we are when we suffer, provided we

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 33I
really wish to suffer and satisfy the justice of God !
What do we not owe to Him, and what pains do we
not justly deserve ! An eternity of punishment changed
into a few stings of pain ; the loss of God, the rage and
despair of devils, changed into a short and tranquil
suffering, in which we adore the hand that mercifully
strikes us, with consolation and hope : such crosses
deserve thanks and not complaints. They are graces
which we must feel with a heart melted at the goodness
of God. If He had covered you with leprosy, He'
would still have spared you. The leprosy of pride, of
sin, and of self-idolatry was much more frightful. He
has cured you of that.
I am longing to ask you at Foutainebleau, madam,
how you find yourself after the time of penance and
retirement in which God has placed you. The penances
we choose for ourselves are but little indeed ; it is God
alone Who really knows how to crucify us.

190. (222.)
That we must not put off our resolutions of perfection.
That perfect love casts out fear.
Versailles, September 17 [1691] .
I am delighted to hear, madam, that your health
is re-established. The state of mind in which you tell
me you are, shows clearly enough that the Cross is
never without fruit, when we receive it in a spirit of
sacrifice. I hope, madam, that we shall have the
honour of seeing you again at Foutainebleau, renewed
in grace and in detachment from the world.
You are quite right in thinking that we must not
wait for perfect freedom and retirement before detaching
ourselves from all things and overcoming the old Adam.

332 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
This perfectly free situation is nothing more than a
beautiful idea. Perhaps we may never attain to it,
and we must keep ourselves in readiness to die in the
slavery of our present state, if Providence prevents our
plans for retirement. You cannot freely dispose of
yourself, and God only asks from you what is in your
own power. The Israelites in Babylon sighed after
Jerusalem ; but how many of them never saw Jerusalem
again, and finished their lives in Babylon. What a
delusion it would have been for them, if they had
always put off serving the true God and labouring for
their perfection, until the time of their return to their
own country. Perhaps you will do as these Israelites
did. What you tell me of Madam de la Sabliere*
interests and edifies me. I have only seen her once,
but she made a great impression upon me. She is
quite right in seeking nothing more from men, now that
she has found God, and in sacrificing all her best
friends. The good Friend, Who is above all others, is
within the heart : He is the jealous Spouse, and drives
away all the rest. As to the thought of death, it only
troubles sensual and worldly people. Perfect charity

* Madam de la Sabliere is known from having given refuge in
her house to La Fontaine, who dedicated one of his fables to her.
After having lived in the great world and at Court, where she was
distinguished by her solid and brilliant qualities, the death of her
husband and the coldness of the Marquis de la Fare, who had
loved her passionately, brought her back to the practice of religion.
She consecrated the last years of her life to the relief of the poor
and sick. "She was," says Dangeau (Journal, January 9, 1693),
"a woman who' had a. great reputation for her mind, and who for a
long time past had retired to the hospital for incurables, where she
led a very austere and exemplary life." She wrote some Christian
Thoughts, afterwards printed at the end of the Maximes of the Duke
de la Rochefoucauld. She died January 8, 1693.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 333

casteth out fear. (a) It is not because we think ourselves
good that we cease to fear ; it is because we simply
love, and abandon ourselves, without reflecting or
relying on self, to Him Whom we love. This is what
makes death sweet and precious. When we are dead
to ourselves, the death of the body is nothing more
than the consummation of the work of grace.
Will you have the kindness, madam, as you are
writing to the sick lady, to tell her how much I rejoice
in the faith at all that God is doing in her, and how
much I hope that all her ills will be benefits to her ?
191. (223.)
He tells her of a place where she can sec him, and jests
about his bad temper.
Thursday, September 20 [1691] .
If you will come this evening, madam, about seven
o'clock, to the house of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, I
hope she will receive us charitably, although I have
not yet set foot within her door. You will see by this,
madam, that I am not less savage to her than I am
to you. I am even less savage to you, it seems to me :
for your troubles have softened my ferocious temper.
192. (224.)
That we must receive humiliations, as coming from
the hand of God.
Versailles, November 15 [i6gi] .
It is a long time, madam, since I gave you any
mark of my respect for you ; but I have not ceased to
ask news of you from all those who could tell me of
(") 1 Jo. iv. 18.

334 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
you, and to speak of your troubles with persons who
are interested in them.
God has given you a severe cross in the illness from
which you suffer. It is obstinate, it is painful ; and
besides the pains of the malady, you have those of the
remedies applied. But the pain is not that which
hurts you most, you are courageous enough and hard
enough to yourself, to suffer that patiently; but God
has attacked you in another much more sensitive part,
which is your special weakness. He attacks your
delicacy and your cleanliness. You who have such
an exquisite and fastidious taste, are reduced to be
disgusted with yourself, and to fear lest others should
be disgusted with you. It is God Who is doing it, and
all that He does is well done, and all that He does is
done in mercy. He must crush our self-love and our
pride. Let us adore His hand, and humble ourselves.
I pray Him to give you, madam, for your own body
and mind, all that His goodness can bestow upon you.
193- (225.)
Congratulations to the Comtesse on the mitigation of
the disgrace of her brother.
Friday, November 30 [1691] .
I hear, madam, that the eloquence of your good
husband has done more than you could have dared to
hope, for the liberty of your brother. Allow me to
express my joy on the subject to you, in this note,
until I am able, in some apartment, or near the little
chimney-piece of white marble, to tell you how much
I am interested in this fortunate success.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 335

194. (226.)
That we must not put off labouring at our perfection, and
must make it consist of fidelity in little things as well
as in great things. [No date.]
I should have a great deal of trouble, madam, to
remember all the things I said to you last Sunday.
All the idea that remains to me about the conversation
is, I think, that I said two things to you : the first was,
that we must sanctify ourselves in the state of life in
which Providence has placed us, without making plans
or resolutions of virtue for the future ; and the second
was, that we must have a very great fidelity to God in
the smallest things.
The greater number of people pass the best part of
their lives in acknowledging and regretting their way
of living, in proposing to themselves to change it, in
making rules for a time in the future, which they hope
to have and which often is never given to them, and
in losing thus, in barren resolutions, the time which
they ought to employ in good works, and in labouring
usefully for their salvation.
We must look upon all such ideas, madam, as a
ver3' dangerous temptation. Our salvation is to be
the work of every day and every moment of our lives.
There is no more fitting time to do this than the time
which God gives us now through His mercy ; because
we have it to-day and perhaps we shall not have it
to-morrow. Our salvation is not secured by our
simply desiring to secure it, but by our applying
ourselves to labour for it in the best way we can. The
uncertainty in which we live ought to make us under
stand that our will must be concentrated on this one

336 ' SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
affair, and that all other occupation is unworthy of us,
because it does not lead us straight to God, Who ought
to be the end of all our actions, and Who is the God of
our salvation, as David often calls Him in the Psalms.
Why, madam, do we make plans of perfection ?
It is because we know they are necessary for our
salvation. Why do we put off the execution of them,
since it is as necessary for us to labour to-day in the
work of our salvation as it will be in ten years' time ;
and as necessary for us at Court as if we were living
a more retired life ? We must always take the safest
way possible in the affair of our salvation : either we
lose all or we gain all. The state of life to which God
has called us is a safe way for us, if we fulfil all our
duties in it. If God had foreseen that we could never
save our souls in the Courts of princes, He would
have commanded us never to live there. But very far
from having given us such a commandment, it is He
Who makes kings and Who rules their Courts, and
Who permits that high rank or necessary employment
should give us an entrance there. He wishes therefore
that we should save ourselves there, and that we should
there find the road that leads to Heaven, which consists
in attachment to the truth, to that very truth which
Jesus Christ has told us will make us free, (f) that is to
say, which will secure us against all the dangers to
which we are exposed in this world.
The more dangers you meet with, madam, in your
present state of life, the more you must watch over
yourself, that you may not succumb to them. To watch
over ourselves, is to keep our attention fixed on God ;
to have Him always present ; to enter into ourselves ;
not to give way to dissipation or voluntary distraction
in the midst of creatures ; to love, as much as we can,
{") John viii. 32.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 337
retirement, Holy Scripture, and prayer; to pour out our
hearts, as the Prophet-King says, before God ; (<*) to find
Him within ourselves ; to seek Him by the fervour of
our desires ; in fine, it is to love Him more than all
things, and to avoid all that we know displeases Him.
This kind of virtue, madam, is a virtue for every state
of life ; it is a marvellous assistance at Court, and I
cannot think of anything that can help us more not to
love the world, even in the midst of the world, than a
right use of it. Make yourself familiar with it then,
madam, and try never to forget that you are in the
presence of God, and that God is within you, so that
you may always keep yourself faithful in His service.
Accustom yourself often to adore His holy will by
a humble submission of your own will to all His
commands and all the designs of His providence.
Beg of Him to hold you up, for fear lest you fall.
Implore Him to finish His work in you, and that,
having inspired you with the desire of saving your soul
in the state in which 3'ou are, you may indeed succeed
in saving your soul in the state in which He Himself
has placed you.
God does not ask of you great things that you may
succeed in this. The Kingdom of God is within you ; (?)
this is what Jesus Christ tells us in His Gospel :
we can meet Him there whenever we wish. Let us
do what we know He asks of us, and as soon as we
know His will, let us not spare ourselves, and let us
be very faithful to Him. This fidelity ought not only
to engage us to great things in His service and for
our salvation, but also all the indifferent things which
present themselves and which belong to our state of
life. If we could only be saved by great actions, there
are very few persons who could hope to be saved. Our
(") Ps. lxi. 9. (') Luke xvii. 21.
W **

338 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
salvation is attached to the way in which we accomplish
the will of God. The smallest things become great
when God asks them of us ; they are small only in
themselves, they are alwa3'S great as soon as they are
done for God, as they lead us to God, and serve us as
means for the eternal possession of Him.
Remember, madam, He has told us in the Gospel,
that he that is unjust in that which is little, is unjust also in
that which is great ; and he that is faithful in that which is
least, is faithful also in that which is greater, (f) It seems
to me that a soul desiring very sincerely to belong to
God never examines whether a thing is little or great.
It is enough for her to know that He for Whose sake
she does it is infinitely great, and that He deserves
that all His creatures should be solely occupied in
giving Him the glory that is due to Him, and which
can only be given to Him by the accomplishment of
His will.
As for you, madam, I think you must receive your
crosses as your principal penance; the importunities
of the world ought to detach you from it, and your own
miseries ought to detach you from yourself. Bear this
perpetual burden in peace, and you will not cease to
advance in the narrow way. It is narrow by the
sufferings that wring the heart ; but it is wide by the
expansion which God gives to the heart within. We
suffer, we are surrounded with contradictions, we are
deprived even of spiritual consolations, but we are free,
because we will all that we have, and would not escape
from it even if we could. We suffer our own weariness,
and prefer it to the most sweet state of consolation,
because God has chosen it for us. The great point is
to suffer without being discouraged.
(") Luke xvi. 10.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 339
195. (227.)
On the dispositions which are suitable for the season
of A dvent.
The season of Advent ought to inspire us, madam,
with great desires of giving ourselves to God, of
preparing our hearts to receive the plenitude of His
grace, and of disposing ourselves to be born again
with Jesus Christ, or rather, to profit by the fruits of
His Birth, through the union we ought to have with
Him and which the love of God alone can operate
within us.
We ought to think that the words are said to each
of us specially, which St. John the Baptist formerly
said to the Jews, to excite them to do penance : Prepare
ye the way of the Lord; make straight His paths ;(f) in
order that He may find our hearts in a fit state to
receive Him, and that He may pour out His blessings
upon us.
This preparation of the heart consists in an ardent
desire of possessing Him. This is why Holy Church
reminds us often at this time of the desires of the
hohy Patriarchs who longed after the coming of the
Messiah, called for that reason in the holy Scriptures
the Desired or the Desire of all Nations. We excite
this desire within ourselves in prayer, when we pour
out our hearts in the presence of God, and beg of Him
to come and take possession of them. Jesus Christ
Himself taught us this way of prayer, when He com
manded us to ask of His Father : Thy Kingdom come,
that is to say, that He may reign peacefully within us,
and that we may be devoted to His laws and His
Gospel through love. (") Matt. iii. 3.

340 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

We cannot form these desires within ourselves
better than in retirement from the world. This is why
I advise you, madam, to retire as often and for as long
a time as you can, that you may draw down upon
yourself the grace of God ; being persuaded that, as
God once made His voice to be heard in the desert
by St. John the Baptist, and in those lonely places, far
from worldly crowds, gave to the people the knowledge
of the Messiah, so will He enlighten 3'ou al^o, and will
fill you with His grace and His Spirit when, in solitude
and silence, you try to occupy yourself with Him, and
pray Him to give you a share in His merits.
I think, therefore, madam, that it is good for you
to employ a great deal of time in prayer, and to take
as the subject of your prayer the third chapter of
St. Matthew, a part of the. first chapter of St. Mark,
the third of St. Luke, and the first of St. John. You
will there find the exhortations of St. John the Baptist
to the people, which contain all that we ought to do
to dispose ourselves to profit by the coming of Jesus
Christ into the world and into our own hearts.
We can reduce all he said to the following things :
1. Penance, which must lead us to draw away
from the world, to mourn over the affection we once
had for it, and to embrace the teachings of the Gospel
that we may walk in the narrow wa3'.
2. Feelings of deep humility, esteeming ourselves
unworthy to appear before Jesus Christ, and still more
unworthy to be united to Him and to receive Him
into our hearts.
3. A great courage, and an unshaken constancy
in the pursuit of that which is good, never being dis
couraged at the sight of the dangers we may meet with,
and vigorously resisting the torrent of the world.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 341
I96. (228.)
On the advantage of crosses.
Versailles, December 22 [1691].
I assure you, madam, that the letter which you
have done me the honour to write to me has caused me
a sensible joy. You tell me that you are very much
better, that you are to return here with the New Year,
and, what is better than all, that you have tried to make
a good use of your crosses. That which attacks your
delicacy and your love of cleanliness, which has such a
contempt for anything in the least offensive, goes
straight to the point. God well knows how to choose
that which is necessary for us, and all His blows that
strike us are so many mercies. Your malady is worth
more to you than all the natural talents which attach
you to the world. You are very happy in having this
penance ; it ought to teach you to despise nothing, to
have a horror of nothing, never to prefer yourself to any
one else, and to bear the miseries of others. The leprosy
of pride, of self-love, and of all the other passions of the
mind, if we were not blind, would appear to us much
more horrible and pestilential than the most filthy
diseases, which only disfigure our flesh.
I await your return, madam, with a sincere im
patience ; no one will be more pleased at it than I shall
be, and no one can have more respect for you.

342 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
197. (22g.
That we must steal some hours from our employments
and difficulties, to strengthen ourselves by exercises of
piety. Friday, March 21 [1692] .
It is not I, madam, who am so difficult to be seen;
it is you. Please to remember that, and do not go on
grumbling at the people who are supposed to keep me
to themselves as if I were some holy relic. I should
not dare to intrude upon you when you are with the
Count and all those other people who are such good
company for you. But to speak very seriously, I pity
you for all your difficulties.
You have great need of certain hours of freedom, in
which you can recollect 3*ourself. Try to steal them
if you can, and be sure that these little savings snatched
from the rest of your day will be the best of your
possessions. Above all things, madam, save your
mornings, and defend them as a besieged place is
defended. Make vigorous sorties upon those who
attack you ; clear the trenches, and then shut yourself
up in your donjon-keep. It is too long to wait until
after dinner, before you take breath.
Recollection is the only remedy for your pride,
for the bitterness of your contemptuous criticism, for
the flights of your imagination, for your impatience
with those who serve you, for your taste for pleasure,
and for all your other faults. It is an excellent remedy,
but it must be renewed frequently. You are a good
watch, but your spring is short, and must often be
wound up: Resume the spiritual reading which once
moved you ; it will move you still, and you will profit
by it more than you did at first.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 343
Bear with yourself without flattering yourself and
without being discouraged. We rarely find a happy
medium in this ; either we expect too much from
ourselves and our good intentions, or we despair of
everything. Hope nothing from yourself, but expect
all things from God. Despair of our own weakness,
which is incorrigible, and unreserved trust in the
almighty power of God, are the true foundations for
the entire spiritual edifice.
If you cannot have a long time to yourself, do not
fail to profit by the shortest moments that remain to
you. We do not need a great deal of time to love God,
to place ourselves anew in His presence, to raise up
our hearts to Him, or adore Him in the depth of our
hearts, to offer Him all we are doing and all we are
suffering. This is the true Kingdom of God within us,
which nothing can trouble. 198. (230.)
On the ill-health of the Comte de Gramont.
Versailles, November I [1692] .
I cannot hear, madam, of the continual ill-health of
-the Comte de Gramont, without telling you how much
I share in your sorrow. This fresh trial comes at a
time when you seem to have more need of consolation
than of crosses and trials ; but God alone knows what
is necessary for us, and we have only to let Him do as
He will at the expense of nature. I hope then, madam,
that He will give you double patience and courage,
that you may be able to assist your invalid and to
satisfy all his wants. His bodily needs are not his
greatest needs, and I pray God to put into -your mouth
words that shall be strong enough to move his heart

344 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
with the truths of salvation. No one, madam, can
ever be more sincerely and respectfully devoted to you
than I am.

199. (231.)
On the fruit which we ought to derive from the
difficulties and contradictions of life.
Tuesday, November 4 [1692] .
You must not doubt, madam, as to where to find
your consolation in all your difficulties. It is God
Who wishes to make use of them to detach you from
yourself and from the comforts of this life. Recollection
and fervour would be less able to humble your natural
pride and to crucify your tendency to over-indulge the
senses. By your own choice, be always faithful to
spiritual reading, to prayer, to solitude and silence,
Be firm ; keep intruders at bay, especially in the
evening, that you may prepare for yourself a more free
morning. But when God allows you to be drawn into
inevitable difficulties, do not be troubled ; you will find
God wherever He leads you, in the most tangled affairs
as in the most tranquil prayer. You will find there,
with food for your soul, death to 3'ourself.
When the ladies of whom you speak to me are here,
I shall be delighted if they will obtain for me the
honour of seeing you. Meanwhile, I pray God with all
my heart, to be Himself your light in all contingencies
that may arise. Indeed, madam, I often think of you
and of the graces which you need, even perhaps when
you believe I am not thinking about you at all. Nothing
can surpass the zeal with which I am devoted to you.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 345

200. (232.)
On the illness of the Comte de Gramont. The advantages
of the Cross.
Versailles, Wednesday, November 12 [1692].
I am delighted, madam, at the good news you give
me of the Comte de Gramont. I wish him, more than
ever, a long and happy life, now that he begins to think
seriously of making a good use of it. If I thought that
I could see him without inconveniencing him, I would
try to steal away one of these days, in the interval
between our morning and evening studies, to congra
tulate him on his good intentions ; but I do not wish to
be too eager, to take the place of others, or to assume
a dictatorial tone. Besides, I do not even know if my
health would allow it ; for it has been rather bad this
last fortnight. Have the kindness then, madam, quietly
to ascertain the wishes of the Count in this matter,
without engaging me to anything. He has all the best
assistance that you could wish for him. If I undertook
this journey, it would not be for his needs, but to show
you my devotion, and simply to have the honour of
seeing you both. Tell me without ceremony what you
think about it.
For yourself, madam, you have only to bear your
cross patiently. The painful things which you believe
to be obstacles between God and yourself, will only be
means to unite you more closely to Him, if you bear
them humbly. The things which overwhelm us, and
confound our pride, do us even more good than those
which give us recollection and fresh energy. You have
more need than any one else to be thrown to the
ground, as St. Paul was at the gates of Damascus, and
to find no more resource in yourself. The deeper the

346 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
wound is, the larger and more painful must be the
incision. All that you suffer is the operation of the
hand of God, Who wishes to cure you of an evil of
which you were not conscious, and which is a thousand
times greater than those of which nature complains.
Pride is the most filthy of your abscesses, and you have
no horror of it. Do not lose courage, madam : deliver
yourself up into God's hands ; He is striking you in
mercy, without, by all your difficulties, and within, b3r
your infirmity. He loves you, and wishes you to love
Him with Jesus Christ upon the Cross. Expect all
things from Him, and you shall receive according to
the measure of your faith. 201. (233.)
He hopes that the Comte de Gramont will act as nobly
with God as he has acted with regard to the world.
Versailles, January 25 [1693] •
I was very sorry, madam, not to have the honour
of seeing you when you came here last time. I hope
that the good health of the Comte de Gramont will
allow you to return here soon, and to remain here a
long time. His health is, I am told, admirable ; it is
the gift of God, and it would not be just to make use of
it against Him. The Count must act in an upright
and honourable manner towards God, as he has always
done in his dealings with the world. God is pleased
with noble sentiments. True nobility must have fidelity,
firmness, and constancy. A man who has been so
grateful to the King, who can only give rewards that
perish, would he be ungrateful and unfaithful to God,
Who can give all things ? I cannot believe it, and I
do not wish even to think so. I think I have seen
what a good heart he has, and I hope he will have

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 347
courage enough to despise all false shame and freezing
sneers. You know better than any one else, madam,
how to warn him against bad habits and the imper
ceptible influence of frivolous society. He must think
seriously that his cure, which has put off the hour of
his death, has only put it off for a little while, and that
the longest life is always a short life. For my own
part, I do not wish to preach ; I confine myself to
rejoicing with you, madam, at this happy recovery. I
am longing to have the honour of seeing you both here,
in perfect health, and in the same happy dispositions.
You know, madam, my zeal and my respect.
202. (234.)
That we must take no fresh step, even in the way of
perfection, without asking advice. Exhortations to
humility and simplicity of spirit.
Versailles, March 28 [1693] .
I thank you very humbly, madam, for having allowed
me to see this letter:* it is good and very touching.
I like his humility and distrust of himself even better
than all his fervour. Provided he makes no step, even
in good things, without the advice of a holy and experi
enced person, all will go marvellously well ; but good
ceases to be good, as soon as we do it our own way.
The first and only solid good is to die without reserve
to our own will and our own judgment.
I pity you in your difficulties ; but if you are faithful
in doing all that is in your power to do, God will
Himself supply for what you cannot do, in the continual
state of subjection in which His providence has placed
* It was probably a letter from the Comte de Gramont to his
wife.

348 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
you. That which I desire for you most of all is
humility and simplicity of spirit. I fear for you a
devotion that is full of light and very exalted ; and
which, under pretext of aiming at what is solid in
spiritual reading and practice, would only secretly
nourish within you a certain indefinable spirit of false
greatness, quite contrary to the spirit of the Child
Jesus, which is very simple, and is despised by the
wise of this world. We must be children with Him.
I beg of Him, with all my heart, madam, to take away
from you, not only 3'our faults, but also 37our delight in
grand virtues, and to make you humble by His grace.
203- (235.)
That we must avoid uneasy foresight about the future.
On the fruit which we ought to derive from interior
contradictions. On the vanity of earthly possessions.
Issy, May 25.
The crosses which we make for ourselves, by our
uneasy fears about the future, are not crosses that
come from God. We tempt Him by our false wisdom,
when we wish thus to anticipate His dispensations, and
attempt to supply the place of His providence by our
own providence. The fruit of our own wisdom is
always a bitter fruit, and God permits this to shame
us for wishing to do without His fatherly guidance.
The future is not yet ours ; perhaps it never will be.
If it comes at all, it will come perhaps quite differently
to what we had foreseen. Let us then shut our eyes to
what God is hiding from us, and keeping in reserve in
the treasures of His profound wisdom. Let us adore
without seeing; let us be silent and remain in peace.
The crosses of the present moment always bring

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 349
their own grace with them, and consequently their
consolation also : we see the hand of God in them,
which clearly manifests itself to us. But the crosses of
an uneasy foresight are seen outside of the providence
of God : we see them without the grace to bear them ;
we even see them by an infidelity which separates us
from grace. Therefore everything in them is bitter
and unbearable : everything is dark ; everything is
without resource ; and the soul that wished through
curiosity to taste the forbidden fruit, finds nothing but
death and rebellion, without any consolation within
herself. This is what comes of not trusting in God
and daring to violate His secrets, which He jealously
guards. Jesus Christ tells us that : Sufficient unto the day is the
evil thereof ; and the evil of each day becomes a blessing,
when we leave it all to God, to do as He will. Who
are we, to say to Him : Why hast Thou done this ?
He is the Lord, and that is enough : He is the Lord ;
let Him do all that is right in His eyes. Whether He
raises us up or casts us down ; whether He strikes or
consoles us ; whether He afflicts us or cures all our
wounds ; whether He gives death or life : He is still
the Lord ; we are only the work of His hands, and
consequently only His playthings. What does it matter,
if only He is glorified, and His will is accomplished in
us ? Let us forsake ourselves ; let us have no more
self-seeking, and the will of God, which will be
developed from one moment to another in all things,
will also console us at each moment for all that God is
doing around us, or all that He is doing within us at
the expense of self-will. The contradictions of men,
their inconstancy, their very injustice, will all appear
to us as the effects of the wisdom and justice and
unchanging goodness of God : we shall see nothing but

350 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
an infinitely good God, hiding Himself behind the
weaknesses of blind and corrupt men.
Thus this deceitful vision of the world, which is
passing away like the scenery of a theatre, will become
to us a spectacle that is very real and worthy of eternal
praise to God. Men, however great they may appear,
are nothing in themselves : but how great God is in
them ! It is He Who makes use of their eccentric
humours, of their morose pride, of their deceitfulness
and vanity, and all their mad passions, to further His
¦eternal designs for His elect. He makes use of that
which is within and that which is without, of the
corruption of other men and of our own imperfections
and sensitiveness ; in a word, He employs all things
for our sanctification ; He moves heaven and earth ;
nothing is done but to purify us and make us worthy
of Him. Let us rejoice then that our Heavenly
Father tries us here by many interior and exterior
temptations, that He makes all things contrary to us
without, and all things painful within. Let us rejoice,
for it is by such sufferings that our faith, more precious
than gold, is purified. Let us rejoice thus to experience
the nothingness and falsehood of all that is not God ;
for it is by this crucifying experience that we are torn
from ourselves and from the desires of this world. Let
us rejoice, for it is by these pangs of spiritual child
birth that the new man is born within us.
What ! we are discouraged, and it is the hand of
God that is making haste to finish His work ! This is
what we are always wishing that He should do, and as
soon as He begins to do it, we are troubled ; our own
cowardice and impatience stop the hand of God.
I say, that in the trials of life, we experience the
nothingness and falsehood of all that is not God : the
nothingness, because there is an infinite void in all that

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 35 1
is not the infinite Good and the only Good ; and more
over, we find falsehood there, because the creature
promises great things, and the creature lies. Nothingr
ness may appear to be something, but it is only a lying
nothingness. What does it not make us hope for ! but
in reality, what does it give us ? Vanity and affliction
everywhere under the sun, but above all in the highest
places. Nothingness is not less nothing there than else
where ; for it is equally nothing everywhere : but it
is more of a lie there. It is a decoration which is not
less hollow, although it may be more highly adorned ;
it kindles our hopes, it excites our desires, but it can
never satisfy our hearts. That which is empty itself,
can never fill anything. Weak and wretched creatures,
who are the gods of this earth, cannot give the strength
and happiness which they do not possess. Do we go
to draw water from a spring that is dried up ? No,
indeed. Then why should we try to find peace and
joy with the great ones of this world, whom we see
longing also after what they have not, and begging for
something to amuse them, and devoured by weariness
in the midst of all the splendour of their pleasures ?
Let those be made like to them, who put their trust in
them, as the Prophet said of those who worshipped
idols. (a) Let us fix our hopes far higher, and in a place
that is more inaccessible to the accidents of this life.
Finally, I said that vanity and falsehood are to be
found in all that is not God : consequently they are to
be found also in ourselves. Nothingness : alas ! what
is there so empty and so completely nothing as our
own heart ? Falsehood : what is there that we do not
promise to ourselves? But our promises are full of
falsehood ; happy is he who is undeceived about them
{") Psalm cxiii. 8.

352 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
for ever ! Our own heart is as vain and as false as all
that is most corrupt outside of us.
Let us not then despise the world without despising
ourselves also : we are really more contemptible than
the world is, because, having received more from God,
we are more ungrateful and unfaithful. Let us consent
that the world, by a secret justice, should deceive us,
should fail us, and ill-treat us, as we have wished to
deceive God, as we have failed in our duty to Him,
and as we have so many times grieved the spirit of
grace. The more the world disgusts us with itself, the
more it will advance the work of God ; and it will do
us as much good, wishing all the time to do us harm,
as it would really have done us harm, if we had received
all the false good it seemed to promise us.
I pray God, madam, that your faith may be
nourished every day by these truths, that they may
germinate in your heart, that they may take deep root
there, and above all, that they may help you to renew
within yourself the spirit of Jesus Christ during your
retreat. May the peace of God, as St. Paul says, which
surpasseth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in
Christ Jesus.(a) Let us cut out every root of bitterness,
and let us cast away all sadness that troubles the peace
and simple trust of the children of God. Let us turn
to our Father in all our woes ; let us bury ourselves in
this Bosom that is so tender, and where nothing can
be wanting to us ; let us rejoice in hope, and let us
taste the pure joy of the Holy Ghost, far from the
world and the flesh. And that our faith may be
unmoved in the midst of tempests, let us hold fast by
this great saying of the Apostle : All things work together
unto good, to them that love God, to such as according to His
purpose are called to be saints. (e)
(") Phil. iv. 7. (<) Rom. viii. 28.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 353
204- (236.)
That we must accustom ourselves to recollection ; see our
faults without being disturbed ; and give ourselves to
God without reserve. Wednesday, November 17 [1694] •
I think, madam, that 3'ou must try, without any
painful effort, to occupy yourself with God, whenever
your desire of recollection and your regret at not being
able to practise it move your heart. You must not
wait for free hours, when you can shut the door and
see no one. The short moment which makes us regret
the impossibility of recollection can make us practise
it. In that moment, turn your heart to God, in a
simple, familiar, and trustful manner. All the most
interrupted moments spent in this way are good, not
only in a carriage or in a sedan-chair, but also in
dressing, in arranging your hair, even in eating or
listening to others who are speaking. In this way,
useless and wearisome stories, instead of tiring you,
will relieve you by giving you intervals of peace.
Instead of exciting your ridicule, they will give you
freedom for recollecting yourself. Thus all will turn to
good for those that seek God.
Another very important rule is, to abstain from
committing a fault whenever you are conscious of it
before committing it, but to bear the humiliation
courageously, if you are not conscious of it until after
having committed it. If you know it to be a fault
before committing it, take great care not to resist the
Spirit of God, which warns you of it interiorly, and
which you will quench, if you do not listen to the
warning. The Spirit of God is sensitive, it is jealous ;
it wishes to be listened to and obeyed. If we grieve it,
x **

354 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
it goes away from us ; the least resistance is an injury
to it ; let everything within you give way to it, as soon
as it makes itself felt. Faults of hastiness and weakness
are nothing in comparison to those in which we make
¦ourselves dead to the secret voice of the Holy Spirit,
when it begins to speak in the depths of our soul.
As for the faults, which we do not recognize as such
until after we have committed them, our disturbance
and the vexation of our self-love can never repair
them ; on the contrary, this vexation is only the impa
tience of our pride at the sight of that which puts it to
shame. The only use, then, to make of these faults, is
to humble ourselves for them in peace. I say in peace,
because it is not really humiliation if we take it with
vexation and reluctantly. We must condemn our
fault without seeking to soften it by any excuse, and
we must see ourselves before God in this state of con
fusion, without being bitter against ourselves and
without being discouraged, but profiting in peace by
cur humiliation for our fault. Thus, we draw from the
very serpent himself the remedy to cure us from the
venom of his bite. Confusion for sin, when it is
received within a soul that does not bear it impatiently,
is the remedy for the sin itself: but it is not to be
humble, when we rebel against humiliation.
Some thought of the presence of God during your
meals, especially when they last a long time and when
you often have opportunity for thinking, will help 3-ou
very much to keep within the bounds of sobriety, and
to strengthen you against your extreme niceness of
taste. There are also certain moments at table,
when our first hunger causes us to speak but little;
then we can think a little of God while we are eating :
but all this must only be done as we feel drawn to do
it, without putting ourselves out of our way.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 355
There is another thing about which I confess to you
that I am anxious, and of which we did not speak
to-day ; but we must put if off to the next occasion
when I shall have the honour of seeing you. You
will easily understand what I mean. I am thoroughly
convinced that you must, in this matter, be very firm
with yourself, and that you must distrust your best
intentions. Perhaps, in this way, you are hindering all the
graces which God is preparing for you. Often, all that
we offer to God is not what He wishes. That which
He wishes most from us is just what we wish least
to give Him, and we fear lest He should ask it of us.
It is Isaac, our only son, our well-beloved son, whom
He wishes us to sacrifice without compassion. All the
rest is nothing in His eyes, and He allows all the rest
to be done in a painful and unfruitful manner, because
His blessing is not upon this labour of a divided
soul ; He wishes to have all, and until we give Him
all, there is no rest for us. Who, Holy Scripture says,
hath resisted Him, and hath had peace ?{a) Do you wish
to be in peace, and do you wish God to bless your
labours ? If you do, reserve nothing ; cut down into
the very quick; burn all, spare nothing, and the God
of peace will be with you. What consolation, what
liberty, what strength, what expansion of heart, what
increase of grace, when we suffer nothing to come any
more between God and ourselves, and when we have
made, without any hesitation, the final sacrifices ! I
pray our Lord, and I will pray Him every day, madam,
to give you courage for this.
(a) Job ix. 4.

356 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
205- (237.)
That we must bear temptations with peace and humility.
I have not a very good recollection, madam, of
what I said to you, and which you now ask me to
write down for you ; but I think it was a question
of the too great sensitiveness which we feel within
ourselves, and which we are unable to moderate.
Many people torment themselves and vex themselves
unreasonably about this matter.
This sensitiveness does not depend upon us. God
has given it to us with our natural temperament, to
discipline us. He does not wish to deliver us from it,
but on the contrary, He wishes to make use of it to
discipline us. Let us then enter into His designs.
Temptations are necessary for us ; the only thing is,
not to yield to them.
Temptations from within are like those from
without : they all tend to lead us to victory through
conflict. The temptations from within are the most
useful for us of all, because they serve more directly to
humble us by the experience of our own inward corrup
tion. Temptations from without only show us the
wickedness of the world which surrounds us. Those
from within make us feel that we are as depraved in
our inclinations as the world itself. Let us then bear,
with a humble trust in God and an unchanging peace,
all our interior rebellions and all the temptations which
arise from ourselves, as well as the storms which come
to us from other creatures. All things come equally
from the hand of God, Who knows as well how to
make use of ourselves as of others, to make us die to
ourselves. It is often our pride which is disturbed and dis-

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 357
couraged at seeing so many obstinate rebellions within,
when it would like to see all the passions in a state of
perfect submission, so as to get fresh food for itself
from such an honour, and to take pleasure in its own
perfection. Let us try to be faithful in the depth of
our will, in spite of the repugnances and perturbations
of nature ; and let us suffer God to do as He will, when
He wishes to show us by these storms to what ship
wrecks we should be exposed if His powerful hand did
not preserve us from them. And if it does happen to
us sometimes to fall voluntarily through weakness, then
let us humble, annihilate, and correct ourselves, without
any pity. Let us not lose one moment before returning
to God ; but let us do it simply and without anxiety.
Let us get up and go bravely on our way again, without
being vexed and discouraged at our fall.

206. (238.)
How human passions clash with one another. On self-
renunciation and abandonment as the only means of
preserving peace.
While we remain shut up within ourselves, we are
a prey to the contradictions of men, to their malice
and injustice. Our bad temper exposes us to the bad
temper of others ; our passions clash with the passions
of our neighbours; our desires are so many weak
places in our armour, by which we make ourselves a
mark for all the arrows of the rest of men. Our pride,
which does not agree with the pride of our neighbour,
rises up like the waves of an angry sea: everything
fights with us, everything is against us, everything
attacks us ; we are undefended at every point, owing
to the sensitiveness of our passions, and the jealousy

358 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

of our pride. There is no peace to be hoped for from
within, where we see ourselves at the mercy of a host of
greedy and insatiable desires, and where we can never
succeed in satisfying that self, that is so fastidious and
so easily offended at all that affects it. From hence it
comes, that when we have to do with our neighbour,
we are like sick people who have been ill in bed for a
long time : there is no part of their body that can
be touched without hurting them. Our sick self-love,
that pities itself so much, cannot be touched without
crying out aloud. Touch it onty with the tip of one
finger, and it thinks it is going to be skinned alive.
Join to this sensitiveness of ours, the roughness of our
neighbour, full of imperfections of which he is himself
unconscious ; join to this again the disgust of our
neighbour with our faults, which is not less than our
disgust with his faults : and you see all the wretched
children of Adam serving as a punishment for one
another : you see one half of mankind made miserable
by the other half, and making it miserable also in its
turn : you see in every nation, and in every city, in
every community, in every family, and even between
two friends, the martyrdom of self-love.
The only remedy for all this, therefore, is to get
out of ourselves, that we may find peace. We must
renounce ourselves, we must give up self-seeking in all
things, that we may no longer have anything to lose, or
to fear, or to be politic about.
Then we shall enjoy the true peace that is reserved
for men of good-will, that is to say, for those who have
no longer any other will but the will of God, which has
become their will. Then men can do nothing more to
us ; for they cannot any longer take hold of us by our
desires or our fears : then we wish all things, and.
we wish nothing. This is to be inaccessible to o

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 359.
enemies ; this is to become invulnerable. Man can
only do what God allows him to do ; and all that God
allows him to do against us, being the will of God, is
our will also.
In this state, we have laid up our treasure so high,
that no hand can reach it to take it away from us.
Our reputation may be torn in pieces ; but we consent
to it, for we know how good it is to be humbled when
God humbles us. We are disappointed in our friends ;
so much the better : God is the one true Friend Who
is jealous of all the others, and Who detaches us from
them to purify our attachments. We are annoyed,
kept down, put under restraint ; but God is doing it,
and that is enough for us. We love the hand that
crushes us ; we find peace in all our troubles : happy
peace, which follows us even to the Cross ! We wish.
for what we have; we wish for nothing that we have
not. The more perfect this abandonment is, the deeper is -
our peace. If we keep back any attachment or any
desire, our peace is only half a peace : if every tie is
broken, our liberty is unbounded. If shame, and pain,
and death overwhelm me, I hear Jesus Christ saying
to me : Fear ye not them that kill the body, and are not able
to kill the soul.(a) Oh, how powerless they are, even if
they took away our life ! How short is their power !
They can only break an earthen vessel, they can only
kill that which is dying of itself from day to day, they
can only hasten this death a little, which is a real
deliverance ; and after all is over, we escape from their
hands into the bosom of God, where all is tranquil and
unchangeable. (») Matt. x. 28.

360 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

207- (23g.)
A picture of life at Court.
Versailles, July 4 [1695] .
For a long time, madam, I have been wishing to
recall myself to your memory, and to have the honour
of writing to you ; but you know that life passes away
in good desires without any results, even in matters
that are more important than our duties to society. I
had then intended to ask you for news of yourself; and
a multitude of tiresome little worries have always
prevented me from doing so. However, I have not
been ignorant of your state, for the Comte de Gramont
has explained it to me. If Bourbon is as favourable to
you as it is to him, I am not surprised that it should
make you forget the Court. Bourbon is to him a real
fountain of perpetual youth, and I believe he plunges
into it night and morning.
Versailles does not renew our youth in the same
manner ; we must have a smiling face here, but our
heart does not smile. In . so far as any desires or any
sensitiveness of self-love remain in us, we have always
enough here to make us grow old : we have not what
we wish ; and we have that which we would rather not
have. We are grieved at our own misfortunes, and
sometimes also at the good fortune of others ; we
despise the people with whom our life is passed, and
yet we run after their esteem. We are importuned in
our turn, and yet we should be sorry not to be so, and
if we had to remain in solitude. There are a crowd of
little flying cares, which come round you every morning
as soon as you awake, and never leave you again till
the evening; they succeed each other in the work of

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 361
agitating you. The more fashionable we are, the more
we are at the mercy of these imps.
This is what is called life, in a worldly sense, and is
the object of the envy of foolish persons. But these
foolish persons include the whole of the blinded human
race. Every man who does not know God, Who is
All, and the nothingness of everything else, is one of
these foolish people who admire and envy a state that
is very miserable. Therefore the Wise Man said that
the number of fools is infinite.(f)
I hope with all my heart, madam, that you may
have the good spirit which God will give to them that ask
Him, as it is written in the Gospel. (f) This remedy,
which cures our hearts, is better than healing waters,
which only cure our bodies. We must think of having
our youth renewed in Jesus Christ for eternal life, and
we must let our exterior man grow old, which is, as
St. Paul calls it, the body of sin. (*) I have been preaching
you too long a sermon. Pardon it, if you please,
madam, in a man who has kept silence for so long.
Francois de Fenelon, Archb.-El. of Cambrai.

208. (240.)
Letter of farewell to the Countess, who was setting out
for the waters of Bourbon.
Wednesday, July 31 [1697] .
I cannot have the honour of coming to see you,
madam, because the studies of the princes are going
to begin. I wish you a happy journey, a perfect state
of health, a profound forgetfulness of all the troubles
you are leaving, and as many consolations as I have
(") Eccles. i. 15. (') Luke xi. 13. (') Rom. vi. 6.

362 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
crosses. I pray God to sanctify you, and to load you
with His graces. Be persuaded, madam, that I shall
all my life preserve a very respectful affection for you.
209. (241.)
Showing the dispositions of Fenelon, with regard to
his book of the " Maximes des Saints."
Cambrai, September 12 [i6g7] .
I have always felt the proofs of your kindness
very much, madam. So you may judge if my feeling
is lessened, when you so generously redouble your
attentions at a time when the rest of the world
forgets me. It is pure love, when we love people who
are no longer in the fashion. Interested love is the
love of Courts. The Court is the one country in the
world where they ought best to understand this dis
tinction, but where, as a matter of fact, it is least
understood. I am delighted, madam, that you are pleased with
the Duchesse de Beauvilliers ; she is really good, and
desires in all good faith to overcome everything in
herself that is not fully in accordance with the will of
God. She perfectly returns the feeling you have for
her. I am waiting here, in the spirit of submission of
a simple child of the Church, who owes her more
obedience than others do, because he owes more to
the Church on account of his position, and is only
worthy to be a pastor in proportion as he is a docile
member of the flock. If I am deceived, I shall be
the person who will gain most by this affair ; for I
shall be undeceived. Truth is more precious than
any triumph.

TO THE COMTESSE DE GRAMONT. 363
I cannot conclude, madam, without begging you to
tell the Comte de Gramont that I shall never in my
life forget that he was not ashamed of me, and that
he boldly took my part before the courtiers at Marly.
He will not understand this language, which is
unknown at Court ; but you will have the kindness to
explain it to him. Allow me, madam, also to say two
words for the good people I left in your apartment the
last time I saw you : they are people whom I love and
honour. It is only you, madam, who shall have no compli
ments from me. I content myself with wishing you a
heart humbled under the hand of God and softened
towards your neighbour ; a spirit that is simple as a
dove and prudent as a serpent, to avoid all that can
dissipate you ; and finally, a true detachment from the
world and from yourself, a detachment of which the
practice shall be real and constant. All our other
affairs go on well, when that one is advancing ; for
that is the only one for us. Success, reputation, favour,
talents, and comforts are but so many snares.

364 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG.
210. (467.)
He explains to the Marquise what is the reason of his
conduct with regard to several persons who wished to
have him as a director. Cambrai, Tuesday, December 2, 1710.
You have done wonders, my dear daughter, in
opening your heart to me on the subject of your
troubles. God will bless you, if you act thus with
simplicity. He permits you to be troubled and not to
see things as they are ; but if you do not see them so,
He does, and He knows all that I am doing with a
view to being of real service to you. I should be
sparing myself much labour, if I could cease to care for
all that interests you. You are not just, either to me
or to others, if you think that I have been influenced
against labouring on behalf of even the youngest of
your friends. Such a suspicion has no foundation. I
have been always ready to do so very heartily ; but
I never thought it was for me to make any advance, as
I never have made any advance towards any person,
whoever they might be, in such a case. I always
thought that it was best to see if they came to me
through a choice of real confidence, or only through a
politic wish to please me. But, indeed, my zeal has
always been without reserve.
As to you, my dear daughter, you must look upon
your distress of mind as to my dispositions and actions
with regard to your real interests, as 'a temptation.
It is sufficient if your will does not consent to it,
and if you bear your repugnance as to what I am

TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG. 365
doing for you with humility and abandonment to God.
Go to Communion, and do violence to yourself that you
may not speak against persons who offend you. God
knows with what zeal I am devoted to you in Him.
211. (468.)
Upon an anxiety which was keeping the Marquise
from Holy Communion.
Cambrai, December g, 1710.
You must suppose, my dear daughter, that you did
say at the time, what you do not remember to have
wished to be silent upon. You have nothing to do now
but to be at peace, and to go to Communion. It is
true that you must be disposed to overcome 3'our pride,
by saying in simplicity and humility a humiliating
thing ; but it is sufficient for you to be quite determined
to say it, the next time I come to see you, whatever it
may cost you. And having taken this determination,
there is nothing to keep you from Holy Communion.
As to carrying out your determination, God will help
you. You must not listen to yourself and you must
say everything at once, without giving yourself any
time for reflections of self-love. 212. (469.)
Against excessive refinements in friendship.
Sunday, April 24, 1712.
It is yourself, my dear daughter, that you are
seeking when you seek the friendship of creatures ; but
you will not find what you seek from them. Your
refinements of friendship are only an exquisite form of

366 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
self-love ; but your fellow-creatures also have self-love ;
and every one wishes to have everything for himself.
Besides you will never find either peace or consolation
in this self-love of yours, that is so hungry for friend
ship ; it will bring you nothing but pain and trouble.
Do you not deserve that it should, since the Infinite
Himself is not sufficient for you, and since you do not
find God loveable enough, unless you join the most
frivolous amusements to the love of Him ?
Return to recollection ; but do not delay. Every
moment of delay is a great infidelity. Prayer must be
your penance until it becomes again the food of your
soul. Good-night. I am yours entirely, but in God
alone, for ever. 213. (470.)
He reproaches her with unfaithfulness to God.
Monday, July 4, 171 2.
You have broken your word to me, my dear
daughter, and, what is a hundred times worse, you
have been unfaithful to God Himself. No one can be
more distressed than I am at your state. I will come
and see you as soon as you wish me to do so ; but I
become useless to you, in spite of all my efforts, by
your resistance to God, by the shutting up of your
heart, and by your voluntary dissipation, which exposes
you to the greatest dangers. Console me, and restore
peace to yourself, by yielding to God without any
delay. What would I not do for your real good !

TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG. 367
214. (471 0
He begs of her to suspend her decision on an affair
of importance.
Cambrai, Sunday, September 18, 1712.
I am delighted at the dispositions which God
gives you, my dear daughter. Remain in them, with
peace and humility, and without listening to your
self-love. But do not take any decided steps until I
have the honour of seeing you. I must arrange every
thing with you first, if you please, and afterwards I
must speak to others to prevent the inconveniences
which you foresee from arising in the future. In the
meantime go to Communion, since you are prepared
for all things. Have no hesitation whatever.
215- (4720
On consent to our daily crosses.
September 25, 171 2.
Such a reason ought not to keep you back in any
way, my dear daughter. Try to return to recollection,
and do not dwell on anything that is disturbing either
your head or your heart. No vexation, no reasoning,
no plans and schemes ; but peace, simplicity, humility,
and acquiescence in your daily crosses. Good-bye.
It is time for us to return to the essential point, which
is dependence upon grace, that we may die to our
selves.

368 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
216. (473 0
He exhorts her to return to her first fervour.
April 13, 1713.
I cannot say anything more suitable to you, my
dear daughter, that these words of St. John to the
Angel, that is to the Bishop of the Church at Ephesus,
who was apparently Timothy : But I have somewhat
against thee, because thou hast left thy first charity. Be
mindful therefore from whence thou art fallen : and do penance,
and do the first works. Or else I come to thee, and will move
thy candlestick out of its place. (f) It is thus that the Spirit
of God loves men, without flattering them. He loves
and He threatens. He even threatens only through
love. He reveals the penalty, in order that man may
not oblige Him to enforce it.
See how the most perfect persons may fall little by
little, almost without noticing it. This was the Timothy
whom St. Paul called the man of God ; (e) this was the
Angel of one of the most holy Churches in the East, in
those happy days when religion was so flourishing :
this angel falls ; he forgets his first love, his recollec
tion, his prayer, his good works ; he becomes lax and
dissipated. He does not at first perceive his error
and his fall. He says to himself: What have I done
wrong ? Is not my conduct upright and regular in
the eyes of the world ? Is it not necessary for one to
have some consolation ? Is it living when one never
has anything to sustain or to animate the heart ? It is
thus that we are ingenious in deceiving ourselves and
in disguising our relaxation.
Make haste, says the Holy Spirit, to open your
e3'es, and to see from whence thou art fallen. Oh ! how
(") Apoc. ii. 4, 5. (') 1 Tim. vi. 11.

TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG. 369
far below your former place you are ! Remember the
first fervour of your prayer, of your peaceful solitude,
of your love of recollection, and of your fidelity in
shunning all that could disturb it. If you remember all
this no longer, others will not have forgotten it, and
they will not fail to say : What has become of all that
fervour ? Nothing is to be seen now but exterior
amusements, and weariness of soul as soon as the
amusements are over. She is no longer the same
person ; does she still think she is devout ?
It is thus that we fall, by imperceptible degrees
and under fine pretexts, from a state of sincere death
to self into a state of dissipation, in which all the
coarsest forms of the life of self-love reappear, so that
all can see them. At least, we should remember the
state from whence we are fallen. We should regret that
first love that nourished our hearts. We should take up
again those first works which we gave up, in such a
cowardly manner, for works of vanity. We should look
from afar off at the solitude in which we were once at
peace with the true Comforter. We should say, as the
prodigal son said : I know what I will do, / will arise
and will go to my Father, and say to Him : Father, I have
sinned against Heaven and before Thee ; I am not now worthy
to be called Thy son.(f)
If at first He makes you feel some coldness and
dryness, receive this penance humbly, for you need it
very much.
If you do not return quickly to His paternal bosom,
this is what He will do : / will come to thee, He says,
and will move thy candlestick out of its place. He will take
from you the torch of which you make no use, and
He will leave you in darkness; He will transfer His
precious gifts, which you have so long trampled under
(<*) Luke xv. 18, 19. #*
Y

370 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
foot, to some other soul, who will be more simple, more
docile, and more faithful.
You must resume your spiritual reading, your
prayer, your first simplicity and humility. With
regard to your Communions, you must increase them
by one Communion more each week, until you have
re-established them as in your former state.
217. (474.)
On the same subject. News of the Marquis de Fenelon.
Cambrai, September 13, 171 3.
I am very glad, my dear daughter, that you have
seen the Princess of Espinoi ; * I also saw her for a
moment. Take advantage of your solitude to return to
recollection. Outside of this true centre of your soul,
you cannot either preserve yourself in true piety, or
moderate the sensitiveness of your heart, or sweeten
your crosses, or enjoy any peace. You will have to
begin by doing a painful violence to yourself, to bring
yourself back to an interior life, and to that dependence
upon the spirit of grace, which is jealous of all the
secret lives of self-love, and which gradually undermines
them ; but this restraint will change into liberty at last.
And such liberty well deserves to be purchased at the
expense of a constant state of subjection. This labour
is less painful than that of giving ourselves up to the
vain sensitiveness of a self-love that is always in a
state of vexation.
My nephew is very far from being remiss in the
feelings of gratitude which he owes you : he writes to
* Teresa of Lorraine, widow of Louis de Melun, Prince of
Espinoi. The Marquis de Risbourg was of the same family.

TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG. 371
me as a man who has a lively sense of them. I do
not yet know when he will come here. The skin has
not yet completely re-formed over his wound, and it is
thought advisable to wait for this, before allowing him
to travel. For myself, I rely upon coming to pay my respects
to you, and to dine at Valincour, as soon as possible ;
but I cannot tell you on what day, until I have got
rid of two affairs which are very important to me and
very troublesome. Nothing can exceed my zeal and
respect for you. 218. (475.)
That we must renounce our own spirit.
Sunday, May 20, 1714.
You must not fail, my dear daughter, to go to Holy
Communion to-day : this great feast * demands it of
you. I pray our Lord to give you His Spirit, and to
take from you your own. The wisdom of the love of
God is very much opposed to the wisdom of self-love.
The one labours to dispossess us of ourselves, that God
alone may reign over us in all things : the other only
wishes to possess itself in all things, and to bend God
Himself to its own will. Be simple and humble : I
pray God to make you like a little child in His hands.
He knows how devoted I am to you in Him.
219. (476.)
He pities her interior sufferings. [No date.]
I share in all your sufferings, my very dear
daughter ; but I am consoled to see your good resolu-
* It was the feast of Pentecost.

372 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
tion. It was said to St. Paul: It is hard for thee to kick
against the goad.(a) If you never resist God, 3'ou will
have nothing but peace even in the midst of your pains.
I long to come and see you : another myself must come
to you for me. 220. (477-)
Upon a poor peasant woman in the diocese of A rras,
who appeared to be in an extraordinary state.
[No date.]
I think that the good woman in question ought to
do two things. The first is, never to rest in any of her
extraordinary revelations. If these revelations really
come from God, it is sufficient for her, that she may
not resist them and may receive all the fruit of them,
to remain in a state of general and unlimited acqui
escence in the whole will of God, in the darkness of
the most simple faith. If, on the contrary, these
revelations do not come from God, such a state of
peaceful simplicity in the darkness of faith will be a
certain remedy against all delusion. We are not
deceived, as long as we do not wish to see anything,
and when we do not fix our attention or our faith on
any distinct object but the truths of the Gospel.
It often happens also that these revelations are of
a mixed nature : beside one of them, which may be
true and may come from God, another may present
itself, which arises from our own imagination, or from
our self-love, or from the tempter, disguised as an angel
of light. Even true revelations themselves are to be
feared; for we may become attached to them with a
subtle and secret self-complacency; they may insensibly
become a support and a possession to us ; and in that
(") Acts ix. 5.

TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG. 373
way, they may be turned into delusions in spite of their
truth, and so stand in the way of the nakedness and
deprivation of all sensible supports, which God requires
from advanced souls. Hence it comes, that these extra
ordinary gifts of light are generally given to souls who
are but moderately dead to themselves ; those whom
God is leading on farther, come to transcend this kind
of sensible gifts, by the increased simplicity of their
state. We see the rays of the sun distincthy, when we
are near a window, and in a half-light ; but when we
are out of doors in the open air, we distinguish them no
longer. I beg of this good woman to pass by all these gifts
very simply, without positively rejecting them, con
fining herself to paying no attention to them b3' the
choice of her will. If they come from God, they will
do His work as much as is necessary; but I believe
they will gradually cease, in proportion as her sim
plicity and destitution increase. This is the first point
for her to observe, and it is of extreme importance, if
I am not deceived.
The second point is, that I think she ought, in all
simplicity, to follow without scruple the attraction of
her inmost heart. If she is always trying to follow
methodically and exactly all the rules which other
people, very pious though they be, may lay down for
her, she will be very much constrained herself, and
will constrain the Spirit of God within her. Where the
Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty, says St. Paul.(a) But
God forbid that this liberty of love should ever be the
excuse for the very shadow of the least licence ! It is
this true liberty which will enlarge her heart, and will
accustom her to keep herself familiarly in the presence
of God. It is not sufficient to feed a little child ; when
{") 2 Cor. iii. 17.

374 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
he comes to a certain age, he must leave off his-
swaddling-clothes. She must simply follow in a child
like spirit her interior attraction, as to her times of
prayer, as to the subjects with which she is then
occupied, as to speaking or keeping silent, as to acting
or suffering. This dependence upon the spirit of death,
which is in reality the spirit of true life, will constitute
her whole state.
I am not speaking of those inclinations which come
from some perceptible cause or from reflection ; it is
when we listen to our self-love and its suggestions that
such inclinations come to us. These are inclinations
that are strangers to the true instincts of our soul : we
give them to ourselves ; we prepare them ourselves ;
we form them by a reasoning process ; we do not find
them completely formed within us, without, as it were,
our having any share in them. Our true interior incli
nations are those which are found in the inmost depth
of our soul, when the soul is in peace in the presence
of God, when it gives itself up to Him entirely in order
that He may do as He will.
This is what I should wish this good woman to-
follow after, without reflection and in a simple spirit
of pliability, just as a feather allows itself to be carried
hither and thither, without resistance, by the slightest
breath of wind. She need not fear to follow this
impression that is so spiritual and so delicate ; for it
will only lead to death, to the darkness of pure faith,
to the total deprivation of all sensible supports, and to
a nothingness of self, which will be a total possession
of her soul by God alone ; and yet she will not fail in
the performance of any real duty.
As to her sufferings, she has only to receive them
without paying any attention to them, and to trans
cend them, as in the case of the revelations, not

TO THE MARQUISE DE RISBOURG. 375
keeping any account with God of all she suffers, and
not even noticing it, except in so far as the thought
of it may come, without her having sought it or
encouraged it.
She must receive every one with humility, especially
priests in authority ; but she must not allow herself to
be confused and perplexed by all kinds of good people
without sufficient experience. God will give her all
that is necessary, without any distinct light, if she is
content to remain in the darkness of pure faith, and
if she does not seek after securities of her own choosing,
that she may have a sensible support to lean upon. I
commend myself to the prayers of this good woman,
and will not forget her in mine.

MARIE-FRANCOISE DE BOURNONVILLE,
Only daughter of the Due de Bournonville, Governor of Paris,
and Lucrece de la Vieuville, his wife, was married on the
13th of August, 1671, to Anne-Jules de Noailles, Duke and
Peer, and afterwards Marshal of France. She made the
acquaintance of Fenelon, during her residence at Versailles,
and had always the greatest respect and veneration for
him, even after he had lost favour with the Court. She
endeavoured, by every means in her power, to prevent her
brother-in-law, the Cardinal de Noailles, from joining the
enemies of the Archbishop of Cambrai : unfortunately, all
her efforts were fruitless. 221.
(Lettres Spirituelles, 1850. ¦ No. 25.)
TO THE DUCHESSE (AFTERWARDS MARECHALE)
DE NOAILLES.
Upon some faults of the Duchess; upon the course of
conduct she ought to pursue at Court and with her
family. [About 1690.]
You are more steadfast than the world believes you
to be, madam ; but you are less so than you think.
You are a good friend, you are faithful, trustworthy,
generous, full of appreciation and discernment for true
merit, sensible to the friendship of estimable people, full
of penetration and of a certain gracious gift for serving
your friends, knowing how to say at the right time that
which is useful. You have perception and foresight,

TO THE DUCHESSE DE NOAILLES. 377
you are quick at expedients, you have a very delicate
uprightness and sense of justice. You are even sincerely
religious, and I would trust your religion more than
that of a great number of semi-devout people.
But with so many good qualities, you have one
defect which makes you frivolous. It is that you cannot
put any constraint upon yourself. You give fine names
to this weakness. You call it sincerity, freedom ; you
think it is something to be proud of that you are
neither cringing, nor hypocritical, nor anxious to please ;
but you deceive yourself, if you think you have nothing
with which to reproach yourself.
You must think seriously and immediately of
becoming better than you are and of bravely correcting
your faults. The fear of passing for a hypocrite or a
weak devotee ought not to hinder you from being a
good Christian. It is cowardice not to dare to approach
God through an evil shame of the world's opinion.
Not only must we overcome ourselves for God's
sake ; we must also overcome ourselves for the sake of
gaining and keeping such influence with others as may
be necessary for our true interests. It is to pride
ourselves on our uprightness very unseasonably, when
we will not control ourselves in indifferent things,
and thus please men whose aid we require. Now, you
care for your family — and your family cannot live away
from the Court. All plans for doing so can only be
visionary. You must therefore accommodate yourself to
their wishes, in everything where you can do so without
injuring true decorum. But that which could make
you agreeable to the Court, far from being contrary to
real decorum, would correct you of that which is
contrary to it.
You have an air of frivolity and vivacity which
nothing can quench. A person must know the reality

378 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
of your kind spirit and feelings, to be reassured
about this vivacity of yours, which is so full of gay
mockery. Laugh as much as you please with safe and
chosen persons who do not laugh too much, and who
know how to laugh only when it is right to do so. But
try to be a serious and circumspect person. Let your
manners be a promise of all the real worth which is
found in you by those who understand you.
More than this, do not mix up the play of your
wit with more serious matters. You elude the most
important advice by a pleasantry, and you laughingly
defend false maxims upon which you have never been
undeceived, because you have never listened seriously
enough, nor tried to understand the truth. You think
to get rid of your responsibility by saying that you
cannot change ; and all the time it is the fear of being
obliged to constrain yourself, which makes you afraid
of seeing clearly and of taking things more seriously.
You will not believe any one ; but even if you would
believe yourself, your own reason alone would lead you
far on the right way.
But it is not your reason, it is your inclination that
you follow ; and you only employ your intelligence in
authorizing that which pleases you, and in turning into
ridicule the truths which weigh upon you too heavily.
This is why something frivolous is mixed up with all
the solid qualities which you possess. God and the
world would agree in this respect ; for, if you could
once persuade yourself to submit to a rule, in a moment
all in which solidity consists would be found united in
you. You only want a little more serious reflection
upon great truths, and a little more courage against
your own inclinations.

CHARLES-HONORE D'ALBERT,
DUC DE CHEVREUSE,
Peer of France, and a Knight of the Orders of the King,
Captain of the Light Cavalry of the Royal Guard, and
Governor of Guyenne, was born on the 7th of October, 1646.
Very early in life, he contracted a warm friendship for the
Due de Beauvilliers, a friendship which only grew still deeper
and more lasting, when the two friends married two sisters,
both daughters of the great Colbert. It was through his
brother-in-law that the Duke de Chevreuse was brought into
connection with the virtuous instructors of the Due de
Bourgogne ; and, without having any actual position in the
household of the young prince, he gained nevertheless and
preserved all his life, the confidence and esteem of his
illustrious pupil, by the depth of his learning and the
amiability of his character. A wonderful similarity in virtue
and religious opinions united the Due de Chevreuse in the
bonds of the closest sympathy and friendship with F6nelon,
which nothing was ever able to break. After the Archbishop
lost favour at Court, the two friends kept up a secret corres
pondence on spiritual matters, and on plans and projects for
the good of their country. They had also the consolation of
meeting pretty often at Chaulnes, a town in Picardy, three
leagues from Peronne. The Due de Chevreuse died at Paris,
on the 5th of November, 1712. " He died like a saint," says
Dangeau, " after a life of constant and perfect piety. He
was adored by his family, who mourned his loss with the
deepest grief."
In 1667, he had married Jeanne-Marie-Theirese, eldest
daughter of the great Colbert. Ten children were born of
this marriage, which was, in every respect, a most happy
one. The Duchesse de Chevreuse shared in all the feelings

380 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
of respect and veneration of her husband for the Archbishop
of Cambrai. She survived her husband many years, dying
at last on June 26, 1732, aged eighty-two. Her widowhood,
like that of her sister, the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, was
consecrated entirely to devotion and works of charity.
LETTERS TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE.
222.
(Correspondance, premiere section. No. 4.)
That we should try to preserve our union with God in
the midst of all exterior agitation and difficulties ;
and that continual prayer is then our only resource.
The hopes of Fenelon for the Duchesse de Chevreuse.
May 28, 1687.
I am very glad to hear, my dear lord, that her
journey, agitating as it was, has left the Duchesse
in the same state. There is always a fear that such
great changes may disturb our peace a little. But, in
reality, if only we keep ourselves united to Jesus
Christ, by prayer and the frequentation of His
mysteries, this disturbance often serves but to
strengthen us. That tree, of which David speaks,
planted beside the waters, and deeply rooted there, in
humility and charity, according to the expression of
the Apostle, cannot be shaken by the winds which tear
up other plants that have no roots. Such a tree is
even made stronger, in proportion as it appears more
agitated. The occasions of vanity, of dissipation, of
ambition, and of jealousy, are for such souls only
occasions of new merit.
But I agree with you, my dear lord, that in these
circumstances we have need of great watchfulness over
ourselves, and of a very close union with God. For if

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 381
God should turn away from us ever so little, to punish
our negligence and unfaithfulness, we shall soon find
ourselves in the same state as David was in the midst
of his Court. " Alas ! " said this Prince after God's
Heart, " I thought myself confirmed in justice, and
that I should never be shaken in my resolutions ; here
am I fixed for all eternity : Dixi in abundantia mea : Non
movebor in sternum ; but Thou hast only turned Thine
eyes away from me for one moment, O my God, and
immediately I am troubled : Avertisti faciam tuam, et
f actus sum conturbatus.(f)
Of ourselves we have so terrible an inclination
towards the things of sense, and we are urged to the
pursuit of them with so much violence by all that
surrounds us, that if the Strong One of Israel ceases
ever so little to support us, our fall is most certain.
Our way is slippe^, says the Psalm, (e) and the des
troying angel drives us to our ruin with all his strength.
Who can keep us in safety upon the brink of a precipice
towards • which we are already gliding by our own
inclinations ? It is Thy grace alone, O my God ; it is
Thou alone, O Jesus, Who hast overcome the world,
both within us and without, by filling our souls with a
sweetness infinitely greater than the false sweetness
which tried to lead us astray !
But such a grace as this, my dear lord, is only
communicated, in the ordinary way, by means of
frequent prayer and the reception of the sacraments.
A poor man, whose needs are continual, and who has
neither strength nor ability to supply them by his own
efforts, has no other resource but to beg continually for
help, and to address himself to those who can supply
his needs. Should we then be astonished that Jesus
Christ and His Apostles have commanded us to pray
(") Ps. xxix. 7, 8. (') Ps. xxxiv. 6

382 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
constantly and without ceasing ? And even if we were
not commanded to do so, our own weakness ought to
suggest this practice to us.
But, unfortunately, we do not even feel these needs
of ours, although they are so pressing and of so much
importance. If our bodily strength fails ever so little,
we feel it immediately and in a very lively manner ;
the least change in the state of our head or our heart
warns us that we require a physician and a remedy ;
but often our spiritual strength is almost entirely
exhausted before we have any knowledge of our malady.
We attribute to a first impulse, or to a slight negli
gence, or to an insignificant weakness, things which are
often the effect and the sign of a dominant passion
and a corrupted heart. We love the world and the
things of the world with a real affection, and we
imagine that we have only passing ideas of them which
leave no impression upon our hearts. Who is he, my
dear lord, who is able to distinguish between the
passing impression made by the world upon a soul
exposed to its dangerous influence, and a permanent
affection imprinted there ? Who can discern whether
it is through necessity and with reluctance that he
serves vanity, as the Scripture says,(a) or whether it is
willingly and with pleasure ?
What then must we do in this terrible uncertainty ?
We must humble ourselves, we must weep, and pray,
and long incessantly after Jesus Christ. Averte oculos
meos, ne videant vanitatem : in via tua vivifica me — " Turn
away mine eyes that they may not behold vanity : quicken me in
Thy way "(f) This is an excellent prayer for a soul
employed at court, as David was, that is to say,
plunged into the midst of the allurements of the world.
O my God, Who art the Sovereign Truth, and loveable
if) Rom. viii. 20. («) Ps. cxviii. 37.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 383
above all things, turn away my eyes from the vanity
which surrounds them on all sides ; and because their
natural movement inclines them to turn incessantly
towards the objects which are presented to them and
which dazzle them, do Thou fix them, O my God, by
presenting Thyself to their gaze, and by making Thy
presence felt with all the strength which causes great
objects to attract and absorb our whole attention and
perception. But do not content Thyself, Lord, with only once
turning away my eyes from vanity. Alas ! I should
soon return to the eager desire of those miserable but
agreeable things which Thou hast once veiled from
my sight ; do Thou make me enter entirely and solely
upon that way of justice and of holiness in which
vanity presents itself no more to those who love Thee ;
in via tua vivifica me : place me in that way wherein
nothing can be seen, nothing can be heard, on which
ever side the soul may turn, but truth and charity.
Fill my mind, and even my imagination, incessantly
with thoughts and images which will lead me to Thee ;
penetrate my heart with that ineffable sweetness which
draws souls after the odour of Thy perfumes ; conse
crate my body even, by the infusion of Thy Spirit
and by the touch of Thy Sacred Flesh, in such a
manner that my flesh as well as my heart may thirst
and long after the Living God. Grant, O Jesus, that as
I have been made by Thy grace, through my Baptism,
my Confirmation, and the Holy Eucharist, Thy temple,
Thy child, one of Thy members, flesh of Thy Flesh
and bone of Thy Bone — grant that I may have no
impulse that is not Thine.
And if it is not in the design of Thy Providence,
or for my advantage, that I should be exempt from all
temptation, at least, O my All-powerful God, suffer

384 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
me not to yield to temptation. It is to Thine own
glory that Thou shouldst overcome the devil in my
person, as Thou didst overcome him in Thine own
Person, not by preventing his temptations but by
resisting them. Grant then, Lord, that when this
seducing spirit shall tempt me, either through sensu
ality, or curiosity, or ambition, I may be as unshaken
as Thou wert in the desert. If he shall show me
the glory of the world, promising to give me a share
in it, if only I will adore him, then do Thou turn
my eyes away from this vanity, make me to feel
the illusion of his vain promises, and imprint power
fully and deeply upon my inmost heart those truths
by which Thou didst once put to flight the vanity of
Satan, the truth that the Lord thy God shalt thou adore,
and Him only shalt thou serve.(f)
I am sure you will pardon me for this little digres
sion, my dear lord. I am so touched by my own danger
sometimes, that I say to God all that then comes into
my thoughts to say ; and as I make no great distinction
between my love for my own salvation and my love
for yours, you must not be surprised that I speak for
you as I speak for myself. Nevertheless, I must
conclude, for fear lest my zeal may become indiscreet.
But indeed I can never express to you how entirely I
am devoted to you.
I do not know if the respect and gratitude I have
for persons whom I honour, and to whom I am under
obligations, should rather impose silence upon me;
but I cannot conceal from you the hope I have of
seeing Madame de Chevreuse a great saint. There are
so many marks of the mercy of Jesus Christ in that
soul, that He will most assuredly finish the work He
has begun in her : yes, He will finish it, in spite of the
(") Matt. iv. 10.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 385
devil and the world, and no one shall tear from Him
this sheep which He has bought with every drop of
His Blood. You can scarcely believe what joy I have
in my hope of seeing those whom I esteem belong
entirely to God. You might become a favourite at
Court, Prime Minister, or sole Minister, and I do not
think I should experience any great emotion on the
subject ; but I cannot think without intense joy of your
desire to belong to Jesus Christ without reserve and for
ever. I have great hopes also, these few days past, of the
Comte de Montfort.* You will see the fruit of my
hopes, if I am not deceived, when you return. The
two little ones are behaving perfectly well for their
part. O my God, take all this family for Thine own.
Good-night, my dear lord.

223.
(I- 5-)
Containing good wishes for the Duke and the Duchess,
on the occasion of the feast of Pentecost. [No date.]
I do not fail to beg of God to grant the Duchess
the powerful assistance she stands in need of, in her
present state. I hope she may receive that fulness of
the Holy Spirit, which empties us entirely of the spirit
of the world. She is hardly in the circumstances in
* Fenelon is here speaking apparently of Honore-Charles
d' Albert, Due de Luynes and Comte de Montfort, the second son
of the Due de Chevreuse, who was born on the 6th of December,
1669, and died in Alsace, on the gth of September, 1704, in conse
quence of the wounds he had received that day, while fighting for
the King. **

386 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
which Mary and the disciples were, for receiving that
Holy Spirit, Whom the world can neither know nor
receive ; but I have good reasons for believing, that in
the midst of the distractions of a Court where her
•duties detain her, her recollected and mortified heart,
that is united to God, and consecrated by His grace
and the Adorable Sacrament of the Eucharist, forms a
temple, and is itself that temple into which the Holy
Spirit will descend, and wherein He will take up His
permanent abode.
God grant that this sacred wind may drive far away
all the defilement and dust which we contract in our
intercourse with the great world. God grant that this
consuming fire may devour all the scum and the straw
that float upon the surface of our hearts. It is difficult
for us, living as we do at a period of time and in a
country in which everything tends to draw us away
from piety, or at least to weaken our attraction for it,
it is difficult for us not to be influenced by all this in
some measure ; but it is not impossible for us to remain
firm and to persevere, when we are strengthened by the
Holy Spirit. We have a very impressive description in
ecclesiastical history, with regard to a certain pious
lady, who was exposed to terrible trials in the world.
We are told of her : Tanto pondere fixit earn Spiritus
Sanctus, ut immobilis permanent — " So firmly rooted and
grounded was she in the strength of the Holy Spirit,
that she remained immovable."
We can scarcely acquire such a degree of constancy,
except by earnest, frequent, humble, and pure prayers.
To this we must add the frequent reception of that
Sacred Bod3' which was formed by the Holy Ghost
Himself, and which is in Itself an inexhaustible source
of the spirit of sanctity. I am, of course, always
supposing that we are leading a Christian life. No

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 387
other preparation is necessary for the reception of the
Holy Eucharist, if we go into the root of the matter.
Whoever is in a state of health, or only slightly
indisposed, must eat, unless he wishes to grow
gradually weaker, and finally to die. Journeys did
not prevent the early Christians from breaking the
Bread of Life and eating It. They carried It with
them, this Heavenly Bread, for fear of being deprived
of It through unforeseen accidents. If we are living
by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, we have a right to be fed
by His Sacred Body.
May the Holy Spirit vouchsafe to descend upon us
with the same gifts that He brought to the first
disciples ! Let us be inebriated with this Holy Spirit,
my dear lord ; let us no longer remember, either our
early weaknesses, lest we should be discouraged, or the
charms of the world, lest we should again be seduced
by them. Let us forget all things, as the Apostles did ;
•except the holy truths and the eternal blessings which
this Divine intoxication of the soul makes us to experi
ence and enjoy. Let eve^thing else appear to us as
a delusion, such as it is in reality, a vain shadow, and a
dream. It is in this manner that Holy Scripture speaks
to us of those miserable pleasures, of those perishable
good things, which pass away more quickly than dreams
and shadows. A man who, during his sleep, has imagined
himself to be in the midst of pleasures and riches, says,
on awaking the next morning and finding himself as he
was before, poor and wretched : How quickly has my
imaginary happiness passed away ! it was nothing but
a dream. Alas ! what will those rich and pleasure-
loving men, of whom David speaks, f) say at the hour
of their death, when, awaking from their lethargy,
they find nothing in their hands or in their hearts ?
(") Ps, lxxv. 6.

388 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
We call the pleasant imagination of one short night
a dream , and in truth it has a very real solidity and a
very real duration when viewed in connection with the
shortness of our whole life. What name shall we give
to that other delusion of a moment, even if that
moment were to last all our lives, when we enter upon
eternity ?
I do not know why I have gone on writing so long.
I am so sure of your religious feelings and the kindness
of your heart, that I observe no precaution or measure
when speaking to you of our common hope.
224.
(1. 16.)
That submission to the will of God is the only means of
reforming our own will : and how we may attain to
this resignation.
I am not at all surprised at the fear the Vidame has
of writing to  . Nature can only bear with great
difficulty the being detached, or rather torn away, from
her amusements. I remember that his elder brother,
who is now dead, once wrote to me, begging me not
to pray to God for him, for fear he might have to give
up an attachment he then had. This is an effect of
the corruption of our own will, which is passionately
attached to everything, and cannot make a resolution
to give up that to which it is attached.
You know that this will of ours can only be
reformed and changed and finally abandoned, by
submission to the will of God, by resignation, by
union with Him, and even by the loss of our own
will in the will of God. As it is the contrary of all
this that causes all the irregularity of our lives, these

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 389
very lives become regulated in proportion as our will
turns efficaciously to God ; and the more our will is
turned efficaciously to God, the more it is turned away
from all those vain amusements which were keeping
it back and engrossing its affections, because this
return of our will to God can only be brought about
by charity, which commands this power of our soul,
and which is more or less perfect, according as the
return of our will is more or less perfect. Therefore
it is not a question of our minds being enlightened ;
this is not what God requires ; it is our hearts that He
asks of us.
I do not know why people get an idea into their
heads that when we have given ourselves up to God
we must forsake all our friends. I do not see why the
Vidame should imagine that at his age, if he belongs
to God, he must give up all society, even that which
is neither dangerous nor criminal nor too attractive :
on the contrary, he must see his friends frequently,
even if his interviews with them should not be very
long. I must say that conviction alone will never make
a man belong entirely to God ; it is only when our will
is gained altogether and turned towards Him, that this
work can be accomplished : all arguments are barren
and unfruitful, if the heart is not gained for God ; and
this is what we must labour for.
I would try therefore to do this in the following
manner : every day I would present myself for a few
moments in the presence of God, and open my heart
before Him, not reasoning, but having said those
words, Fiat voluntas tua, I would give my will to God
that He might dispose of it, and I would thus present
my will before Him without saying anything else to
Him, but simply remain for some moments in a

390 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
respectful silence, in which the heart alone prays
without the assistance of reason or speech. I ask of
him to perform this little practice every day for a few
moments, and I will answer for it that he will not do
this long without feeling the effect of it. I pray God
to make him experience that this advice, which seems
so little in itself and so easy, will be of such real
advantage to him afterwards and by degrees, that he
himself will be amazed at it. He will no longer have
need of a great variety of things to make him under
stand what is the will of God, because God Himself
will make him accomplish that will in all things.
225.
(1. 17.)
Upon the involuntary distaste we may experience
in the service of God.
I do not think that we must always attribute to the
devil those resistances and repugnances of our inferior
will, in breaking through the obstacles that hinder us
from going to God; for this distaste is, as it were,
identical with our nature, which cannot endure
anything that tries to tear it from its pleasures and
amusements. As nature lives in these things, it fears,
as it fears death, that self-renunciation, which is so
strongly recommended by Jesus Christ. Nature knows
quite well that the reign of Jesus Christ and His life
in the soul can only be accomplished by the ruin of
the old man of sin, and that this old man must give
place to the new.
But when we labour with a little courage to over
come this repugnance of nature, even if we are rowing
against the stream, we find the thing easy; because,

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 391
being faithful in keeping ourselves near to Jesus, not
by a process of reasoning but by a loving attention to
Him and tender affections, He will help us in our
labour, until He takes the guidance of our helm upon
Himself. 226.
(I. 18.)
He exhorts the Duke to fight against his natural activity.
August 31, i6gg.
No one can feel the loss of your lawsuit more than
I do, my good Duke. I am even grieved that you have
engaged yourself to plead it again before another
tribunal, with great danger of another defeat ; the
agitation and disappointment into which this affair
has thrown you, touch my heart. I am very glad to'
hear that this decision will not deprive me of the
pleasure of having you near me at Chaulnes ; perhaps.
a quiet time may come when I shall be able to visit
you there.
Your mind is too much occupied with exterior
things, and still more with reasoning ; so that you are
not able to act with a constant sense of the presence of
God. I am always very much afraid of your extreme
natural inclination for reasoning. It is an obstacle to
that recollection and silence in which God com
municates Himself to the soul. Let us be simple,
humble, and sincerely detached from men. Let us be
recollected, calm, and not given to reasoning with God.
The people to whom you paid most attention formerly*
are infinitely cold, argumentative, critical, and opposed
to the true interior life. If you listen to them ever so
* The disciples of Jansenism.

3g2 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

little, you will listen at the same time to endless
reasonings and to a dangerous curiosity, which will
insensibly drive you out of your present grace, and
throw you back again into the faults of your natural
character. Old habits are soon stirred into life again,
and changes which bring about our return to our
natural character, being in conformity with the root of
a man's nature, are much less easily perceived than
other changes. Distrust all such things, my good
Duke, and take care of the beginnings which entail
such consequences.
I am speaking to you with an unlimited freedom,
because your letter induces me to do so, and because
I know your kind heart, and because nothing can
restrain my zeal for you. I would give my life for your
real advancement in the ways of God. If only we
could have seen each other, I would have said many
things to you.
I am in a state of peace that is dry and bitter, but
in which my health increases with the increase of my
work. Let us pray for each other : let us remain
closely united in Him Who is our common Centre.
I salute the good Duchess with zeal and respect : I
shall be devoted to you, my good Duke, and to her,
until my last breath. 227.
(1. 19.)
On how we can distinguish the movements of grace from
those of nature.
I have given my attention to your difficulty, my
good Duke, that I might distinguish the movements of
grace from those of nature in disguise.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 3g3
We can never have a precise and certain rule on
these matters, within ourselves. We have only the
exterior rule for our actions, which is conformity with
the precepts and counsels of the Gospel, and with what
Christian decorum requires of us. If, besides this,
we had a rule within ourselves, by which we could
distinguish with certainty between the supernatural
principles of grace and the principles of nature, we
should have an assurance of our sanctity, and an infal
libility for the guidance of ourselves by a kind of
inspiration. This is what is exactly contrary to the
obscurity of the life of faith, to the uncertainty of our
pilgrimage here, and to the state of dependence upon
our superiors in which we ought to be. We must not
then seek for that which we are not permitted to find in
our present state ; I mean to say, for that certain rule
by which we may distinguish the movements of grace
from those of nature which can even imitate grace itself.
Yet, on the other hand, it appears that nothing is so
important in the avoidance of delusion, as to be able to
make this distinction, and to have a sure rule for
making it. We are told that we must follow the
attraction of grace. And that if we fail in this, we
resist God, we grieve the Holy Spirit, we keep ourselves
back from the perfection to which we are called. But
how are we to follow the attraction of grace, if we have
not a safe rule for distinguishing it from the specious
movements of nature in disguise ? Want of certainty
in this respect exposes us to the continual danger of
doing quite the contrary of what we wish to do, and
of acting every moment on the impulse of nature while
we believe we are acting through grace. This is a
troublesome perplexity : let us seek for light.
Such a doubt can never extend, as I have already
remarked, to those things which are forbidden by the

394 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
precepts, or the counsels, or the rules of Christian
decorum. Not only can grace never influence us to
violate the precepts, but also it never invites us to act
against the Evangelical Counsels. Here we have at
once that purity and perfection of morals which is
entirely above doubt in all cases. It is only a question
then of the choice between two practices of perfection :
of discerning which is the most suitable to our attraction
of grace. It is true that in making this choice we have no
clear evidence or certainty from within. We have
only, from without, the rules of Christian prudence,
to help us in judging from circumstances, which of two
things is best for us to choose. But we have no certain
rule within us, by which we can discern whether the
attraction we experience for one practice of perfection
rather than for another, comes from grace or from
nature. It is also not suitable to our present state that
we should have this certain and evident rule to guide
us. God wishes to keep us in obscurity and uncertainty
with regard to our own justice ; and we should not be
so kept, if we could clearly discern our grace and its
operations. Necessarily therefore, this grace must be
accommodated to the darkness of our present state, and
must operate in continual obscurity. Are we to be
astonished that we cannot know with certainty if we
are acting through a pure impulse of grace in the work
of our perfection, when we can never know with
absolute certainty if we are led by grace at all, or if we
are ruled by sin ? The danger of venial delusions with
regard to the practices of piety is not astonishing in a
state wherein we must even be accustomed to uncertainty
with regard to the most dangerous delusions of self-
love— of a self-love which makes us take the death of
the soul for the true life of grace.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 3g5
What must we do then in this deep night ? We
must do what is in our power to do, and rest contented
with that. This perseverance in fidelity and peace
together, in the midst of so painful an uncertainty, is
the greatest martyrdom of souls that have a lively
and keen feeling for the things of God.
It is true, that in spite of the darkness of our
pilgrimage, there are certain appearances, without
certainty, which serve to nourish within our hearts a
humble hope that we are in a state of grace. There
are also certain gleams of grace in the darkness of the
most obscure faith, which give us glimpses from time
to time of the fact that we are going on in the way of
perfection, following the attraction of love. But when
God wishes thus to mix light and darkness together,
to give to a soul just enough to keep her from going
astray, but not enough for full security, He so tempers
these two things that we cannot separate them, nor
can we find any certain or fixed support.
We can know best if we are acting from grace,
first, when the exterior action is pure and in conformity
with the perfection of the counsels ; secondly, when we
do it simply and calmly, without any great eagerness
to do it, and content not to do it, if it were better to
abstain from it ; thirdly, when after having done it,
we do not seek to justify our action by uneasy reflec
tions, but are ready to allow it to be condemned, and
to condemn it ourselves, if a superior light should
show us some defect in it ; in fact, when we do not
appropriate our action, but leave it to the judgment
of God ; fourthly, when this action leaves the soul in
her simplicity, her peace, her uprightness, her humility,
and her disappropriation.
All these things, it is true, are delicate in their
interior operation, and all that we can try to explain

3g6 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
about them can never be a positive demonstration.
But, although the practice of these things must always
be mixed with the darkness of the state of pure faith,
it is nevertheless true that God, without laying down
fixed rules, which might serve us as a sensible support,
does know how to accustom a soul to hear His voice,
to recognize it and to follow it, although she could
not give an account, on philosophical grounds, of the
precise rules of this discernment. He gives her
momentary assurances, when she has need of them,
and takes them away immediately afterwards without
leaving a vestige or trace of them behind. Our greatest
danger is to interrupt the operations of God, by the
uneasiness with which we are always wishing to force
our state and to see clearly in the midst of a darkness
in which we must incessantly walk, as it were, groping
our way.
There is only one thing more which it seems to me
good to observe, and that is, that we can often more
easily recognize an impulse of nature than one of grace.
Let us peacefully drop all our simply natural impulses ;
those of sloth as well as those of over-eagerness ; those
which come from the refined tastes of our mind, as well
as those which arise from the rebellious flesh ; and in
this peace, without ever forsaking the bounds of the
precepts and counsels, let us act in the sight of God
as the most simple voice in the depths of our souls
tells us to act, that we may die to ourselves and please
our Beloved. This is the clearest rule that the
obscurity of pure faith gives us for our guidance by
grace: Si Spiritu facta carnis mortificaveritis, vivetis — "If
you, by the Spirit, mortify the deeds of the flesh, you shall
live." (a)
But we must take great care not to fall into scruples,
(") Rom. v i 13.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 3g7
into interior constraint, into a very dangerous trouble,
by wishing to arrange all these things, so as to assure
ourselves that we are doing them through grace. For
this would be to extinguish our grace by dint of wishing
to feel certain that we were following it ; to go back
again, under a pretext of security, into all that self-
seeking which we pretend to have given up ; to lose
the real attraction of grace, by seeking in it for a
certainty, which we know God has not chosen to put
there ; to pass our lives in reasoning about the
operations of grace, without ever daring to abandon
ourselves to them that they may influence our souls ;
in fine, to follow nature, by wishing to discover grace
and to force our state of pure faith.
To tell you something for yourself and something
that regards you personally, my good Duke, you must
remember that for you, the inclination of nature and
the snare of delusion is not in coarse irregularity of life,
but in inordinate wisdom and excess of reasoning. Be
afraid of your desire of going too deeply into things.
Reflect little, but do very much ; instead of which, you
are tempted to reflect very much, and in reflecting very
much, you do little. Wisdom even must be sober
and temperate. This sobriety and simplicity of mind
are the same thing. Reasoning can never produce
anything but a state of irresolution, which hinders the
work of God. Walk in the light while the light shines,
instead of examining what is the source and the cause
of it. The practice of true love dissipates all doubts,
and disgusts us with all speculative reasoning.

3g8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

228.
(I. 20.)
How we should study, so as not to dry up our hearts.
Exhortation to the contempt of the world.
It is now four months since I have had any time for
study ; but I am very glad to do without study, and
to cling to nothing as soon as Providence deranges my
plans. Perhaps this winter I may be able to enter my
study-rooin again ; but if I do, it will only be to remain
there with one foot in the air, ready to leave it again
at the slightest signal. We must put our minds to
fasting, as we do our bodies. I have no desire either
to write or to speak, or to make people speak of me,
or to argue, or to persuade any one. I live from day
to day, dryly enough, and in subjection to many
exterior things which are a trouble to me ; but I
amuse myself as much as I can when I feel the need
of relaxation. Those who make prognostics about me,
and pretend to be afraid of me, are very much mistaken.
God bless them ! I am so far away from them, that
I should be mad if I wished to annoy myself by annoy
ing them. I would willingly say to them as Abraham
said to Lot : A 11 the earth is before us. If thou wilt go to
the left hand, I will take the right. (f)
Happy is he who is really delivered from all things !
It is only the Son of God Who can thus deliver us ;
but He only does so by breaking every tie : and how
does He break it ? By that sword which separates
the husband from the wife, the father from the son,
the brother from the sister. Then, the world is
nothing to us any more ; but as long as it is still
(") Gen. xiii. 9.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 3gg
something to us, we are only free by a figure of speech,
and we are held in captivity, like a bird whose foot
is caught in a snare. It seems to be free, the thread
is not seen, it tries to fly away, but it cannot fly
beyond the length of its thread, and it is a captive.
You understand the parable. The thing that I wish
for you is better than anything you can fear to lose.
Be faithful in that which you know, that you may
deserve to know still more. Distrust your intellect,
which has often deceived you. Mine has deceived me
so much that I dare no longer rely upon it. Be simple
and firm in your simplicity. The fashion of this world
passeth away.(f) We shall pass away with it, if we make
ourselves like to it in its vanity ; but the truth of God
endures for ever, and we shall be eternal as that is, if
that alone occupies us.
Once more I repeat, distrust learned men and great
reasoners. They will always be a snare for you, and
will do you more harm than 3'ou can do good to them.
They wear themselves out with going round and round
difficult questions, and never attain to the knowledge
of the truth. Their curiosity is a kind of spiritual
avarice which is insatiable. They are like conquerors
who ravage the world without possessing it. Solomon
speaks with a profound experience of the vanity of their
researches. When we study, we must only study through a real
necessity which Providence has laid upon us, and we
must do it just as we go to the market for the necessary
provisions of each day. And, even then, we must study
in a spirit of prayer. God is at the same time truth
and love. We cannot really know the truth, except in
proportion as we love it. When we love it, we really
know the truth. If we do not love Love itself, we
(") 1 Cor. vii. 31.

4O0 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
cannot know it. He who loves very much, and remains
humble and little in his ignorance, is the beloved of the
truth ; he knows that of which learned men are ignorant,
and which they do not even wish to know. I desire for
you this real wisdom, which is reserved for the simple
and the little ones, while it is hidden from the wise and
prudent, (f) 229-
(I. 22.)
He exhorts the Duke to avoid curiosity, natural impetuosity,
and a minute exactitude in his affairs.
December 30, i6gg.
I am very much touched, my good and dear Duke,
by your long letter, which reached me a month after
date, because M  returned here much later than he
proposed doing. I now see much more plainly what
God is doing for you, and what you are doing for Him.
Your heart wishes in a general way to cleave to Him
alone, but your practice is not always in conformity
with your intention and your inclination.
Allow me to represent to you that, without being
conscious of it, you very often follow your natural
attraction for argument and curiosity. This is a life
long habit of yours, and therefore you are actuated by
it insensibly and without reflection, almost from one
moment to another. Your position increases still more
the strength of this subtle temptation : the multiplicity
of your affairs always carries you away rapidly. I have
often remarked that you are always in a great hurry
to pass from one occupation to another, and that,
nevertheless, each particular occupation leads you too
(") Matt. xi. 25.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 40I
far. This is because you follow too much your spirit
of exact analysis in everything. You are not slow to
act, but you take a long time to act. You employ a
great deal of time over everything, not by the slowness
of your operations (for, on the contrary, they are preci
pitate), but by the excessive multitude of things which
you mix up with every action. You wish to say on
every subject all that can possibly be said upon it.
You are always afraid that you have not said enough.
This is what makes every one of your occupations too
long, and obliges you always to pass hurriedly, and
yet behind time, from one affair to another. If you
were to cut it shorter, each affair would have sufficient
space to itself, and would easily find its proper place,
without being put off; but to cut things short like this,
you must study to retrench all that is not essential, and
you must avoid a brilliant exactitude which does harm
to what is necessary, by being too much occupied with
the superfluous.
If we wish to be sober in words, we must be so in
thought. We must not follow our natural impetuosity
in wishing to persuade others. You will never reach
the source of the evil, unless you silence your mind
often by the silence of your soul. This silence of
simple prayer would calm your reasoning powers,
which are so active. Soon the Spirit of God would
empty you of your speculations and arrangements.
You would see each affair as it came, with a clear
and simple vision, and would speak as you had
thought ; you would say in a few words all that
was necessary to be said, without taking so many
measures to persuade people. You would be less
overwhelmed with work, less agitated, less distracted,
more free, more at ease, more regular without trying to
be so, more resolute with regard to yourself and your
AA **

402 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
neighbour. Moreover, this silence of the soul, which
would make your manner of getting through your
exterior occupations much shorter, would also accustom
you to do them all in a spirit of prayer. Everything
would be easy to you ; whereas, you will otherwise be
more and more hurried, fatigued, and exhausted ; and
your exterior affairs, which you allow to overcome the
soul in its spiritual needs, will soon overcome also the
health of your body.
In the name of God, cut ever3rthing short, from
morning till evening. But act with yourself as you act
with others. Make yourself keep silence interiorly ;
recollect yourself over and over again by means of real
and frequent prayer, but without effort, and rather by
quieting all thoughts than by fighting against those
that come, and hunting after those that do not come.
This calm and leisurely way of proceeding will bring
all your affairs to a happy issue as forced labour and
over-eagerness never could do. Listen to your own
thoughts rather less, that you may be in a state to
listen more frequently to the voice of God.
I venture to promise you that, if you are faithful in
this to the light from within on every occasion, you will
soon be relieved in all your duties, you will be more
able to satisfy your neighbour, and at the same time
be far more in the way of your true vocation. It
is not everything to love good books ; we should
ourselves be a living good book. Your soul must be
a realization of what good books teach.
The saints had more difficulties and crosses than
you have ; and it was in the midst of all these difficulties
that they preserved and increased their peace, their
simplicity, their life of pure faith and of a prayer that
was almost continual. Have no misplaced scruples,
I beg of you : fear your own spirit which may do harm

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 403
to your way of prayer ; but do not fear your way of
prayer, which is simple and straightforward in itself.
I can easily believe that the multiplicity of your
affairs dries up and dissipates your soul. But the
true remedy for this evil is to shorten each affair as
much as possible, and not to allow yourself to be
carried away by detailed occupations, in which your
mind acts too much in accordance with its inclination
for exactitude ; because in this case, insensibly, and
for want of nourishment, your interior grace will dry
up : Renovamini spiritu mentis vestrm — " Be renewed in the
spirit of your mind." (f) Do as wise men do, when
they perceive that their expenditure is going too far ;
they courageously retrench in everything, for fear of
-being ruined.
Reserve to yourself times for spiritual nourishment,
which may be a source of grace to you at other times ;
and even during the time of exterior affairs act peace
fully in such a spirit of conciseness as will make you
die to yourself.
Moreover, my good Duke, you ought, in addition,
to nourish that spirit of simplicity which makes you
love and relish good books. You must read them,
therefore, unless prayer takes the place of them ; and
you can even combine the two things without any
difficulty, for you can begin your spiritual reading
whenever you do not feel drawn to prayer; and you
can let reading give place to prayer whenever prayer
attracts you.
Finally, you need a little conversation with some
one who has a real depth of grace and of attraction
for the interior life. It is not necessary that he should
be a perfect person, nor even that his conduct should
be very much superior to yours. It is quite sufficient
(") Ephes. iv. 23.

404 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
for you to converse in extreme simplicity with some
one who is not given to reasoning or curiosity. You
can open your heart to him, to exercise yourself in
simplicity and to give freedom to your soul. Such a
person will console you, will nourish you, will reveal
you to your own eyes as you are, and will tell you the
truth about yourself.
By means of such intercourse, we become less
proud, less cold, less reserved, more pliable under the
hand of God, and more accustomed to reproof. A
truth that is told us by others gives us more pain than
a hundred truths which we might tell ourselves. When
we find fault with ourselves, we are less humiliated at
the truth of our discovery, than flattered at our own
candour in being able to tell it to ourselves. But when
others tell us of our faults, it always wounds us a little,
and deals a death-blow to self-love.
I confess that you must be very careful in your
choice of the person with whom you intend to hold this
communication. Most people would be a constraint
upon you, would freeze you up, and close up your
heart to the real grace of your state. I pray our Lord
to enlighten you in this matter. Distrust your old
prejudice in favour of people who are argumentative
and severe.* It seems to me, that I am speaking to
you thus, without passion. I live in peace with them,
and they with me, in this country ; but the true interior
spirit is far away from that school.
Pardon me, my good Duke, for all I have just said
to you. If you are not pleased with.it, I shall have
done wrong in saying so much ; but I cannot think that
after having written to me in so open-hearted a manner,
you should not approve of my unlimited zeal. Even
if I deceive myself in this, my indiscretion, although it
* The Jansenists.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 405
may mortify you, will do you good, if only you receive
it in humility.
A thousand respects, with all my heart, to the
Duchess. Never, my good and dear Duke, can any
one be more devoted to you than I am.

230.
(I- 23)
Against a subtle and minute spirit.
I pray our Lord that He alone may be all things
in you. The more deeply-rooted a life is, the more
delicate, subtle, and specious, so much the more
difficulty is there in extinguishing it. It escapes us by
its very subtlety ; it makes us spare it by its . fine
pretexts ; it is all the more dangerous, when it appears
least so. Such is the secret life of a curious spirit,
given up to reasoning, possessing itself by a philo
sophical method, and wishing to possess in the same
way all that surrounds it. On the contrary, we must
be possessed by a spirit that is entirely superior to our
own : our philosophy must give place to the simplicity
of the Gospel. Blessed are the poor in spirit 1(f) From
whence we may conclude : Woe to those who are rich
in spirit, to those learned men who accumulate so much
knowledge, to those philosophers who are wise in their
own eyes, to those curious minds who wish to penetrate
everything, and to gloat over their intelligence as a
miser does over his treasures ! These are those bad
rich men in mind, who fare sumptuously every day,
while poor Lazarus suffers his hunger in peace. I
confess to Thee, O Father, because Thou hast hid these things,
(a) Matt. v. 3.

406 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
— Thy mysteries— from the wise and prudent, and hast
revealed them to little ones.(f)
The mind has no less need of fasting than the body ;.
and the mind can also be guilty of intemperance.
Fasting, which might seem necessarily to exhaust us,.
strengthens us nevertheless, when it relieves an over
loaded stomach. In exactly the same way, a mind
that is over-loaded with food needs to fast : it is all the
stronger for it, and digests better afterwards. The fast
of silence, of recollection and prayer, nourishes the soul ;
too much exterior action dissipates its real strength..
Sapere ad sobrietatem — "to be wise unto sobriety "(') —
what a profound truth is here ! Jesus Christ, Who was-
to be such a short time visible upon earth for the
instruction of mankind, did not hesitate to interrupt the
labour of His Apostles, to recall them to a holy repose.
Labour then in the affairs of your position, but
without giving way to a multiplicity of ideas, which
always causes delay and indecision. Cut everything
short, and boldly make mistakes in the details, rather
than make a general mistake of always wishing to do
things too well, and therefore never finishing them.
Do not deliver yourself up to be swept away by the
torrent of too much business, but reserve to yourself
times of retirement, when you can be free and alone
with God.
As for all reading of mere curiosity, you cannot
retrench in such a matter too much. Any excess in
food, be it ever so solid, can only cause indigestion.
Curiosity is a fault against sobriety which puffs up the
heart. We are full, without knowing it, and full of
nothing; for the greater part of all acquired knowledge
gives us no nourishment that is of any real use for the
life of the soul, which is the love of God.
(") Matt. xi. 25. (') Rom. xii. 3.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 407

231.
(I. 24.)
Upon the same subject.
Any one who would wish to assure himself at every
moment that he is acting through reason, and not
through passion or caprice, would let the time for
acting pass away, would spend his life in analyzing his
heart, and would never succeed in finding that for
which he is seeking; for he would never attain to
complete assurance that it was not caprice or passion,
disguised under specious pretences, that was making
him do what he appeared to be doing from pure reason.
This is the state of obscurity in which God always
keeps us, even in the order of nature. With how much
stronger reason then must we renounce evidence and
certainty, when it is a question of the most delicate
operations of grace, in the deep night of pure faith, and
in the supernatural order.
This restless and obstinate search after an impos
sible certainty is a very plain impulse of nature, and
grace has nothing to do with it; you cannot distrust
it too much. This subtle search will always, after a
hundred windings, appear again, in the last resort, to
have one and the same aim and end. This taste for
a geometrical certainty is enrooted in you by all the
natural inclinations of your mind, by all the long and
agreeable studies of your life, by a habit which has
become a second nature to you, and by your plausible
reasons for fearing, and watching against, and taking
precautions against delusion. But evangelical watch
fulness must never go so far as to trouble the peace
of the heart, nor to make us wish for certain evidence

408 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
with regard to those obscure operations of grace, behind
which God wishes to conceal Himself as under a veil.
If I may speak to you frankly and without reserve,
you know quite well that you have to fear your excess
of reasoning, even in the ordinary affairs of life. You
ought therefore to fear it still more when it is a question
of operations that are above reason, and which God
Himself keeps secret. There is one thing that is very
certain, and that is, that the more faithful you are in
dying to the inclinations of your mind, to your curiosity
and philosophical research, to your intemperate wisdom,
your studied arrangements, and your methods of per
suasion for your neighbour ; so much the more will you
die to your real natural defects, and consequently,
so much the more will you increase the life of grace
within you.
Listen to God very much, and do not voluntarily
listen to yourself with regard to the natural inclinations
of your mind. Your letters give me great pleasure,
because they display a knowledge of yourself and
against yourself, which grace alone can give, when God
is acting strongly upon a soul, and when He finds that
soul pliable in His hands and ready to be deprived of
all that could keep it back in the way of perfection.
I pray our Lord that you may never look behind you,
and that His will may be your will in all things : Et
£rit omnia in omnibus—" That God may be All in all." (f)
(") i Cor. xv. 28.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 40g
232.
(I. 25.)
A n exhortation to recollection ; that we should repress
natural activity and curiosity of mind.
What I wish most of all for you is recollection, and
a somewhat frequent cessation of all that distracts you.
The action of the mind, when it is continual, and when
it is not absolutely commanded by God, dries up and
exhausts the soul. You know that Jesus Christ with
drew His disciples from the crowd of people who were
following them, and He suspended their most pressing
functions. He then even allowed the multitudes who
had come from afar off to hear Him and seek His
assistance, to wait for Him in weariness ; although He
had pity on them, He withdrew Himself from them
and said to His Apostles : Requiescite pusillum — " Rest a
little." if)
Suffer me to say as much to you from Him. It is
not sufficient to be always acting and giving ; we must
receive, we must be nourished, we must offer ourselves
in peace to every Divine impression. You are too much
accustomed to allow your mind to be in a constant
state of application. You still retain the habit of a
curiosity of which you are scarcely conscious. You
are always taken up with a thorough examination, or
an arrangement, or a series of operations, either going
back to the beginning of all things, or drawing conse
quences from existing things.
I would rather you should amuse yourself with some
trifle which would superficially occupy your imagination
and senses, and leave the depths of your heart empty,
(<•) Mark vi. 31.

4IO SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
that the secret presence of God might dwell there. A
simple amusement has no place in the depths of the
soul ; but serious work, although it may appear more
solid, is in reality more vain and more dangerous, when
it recurs too often, because it nourishes human wisdom,
dissipates the heart, and accustoms a soul to be never in
peace. She then always requires agitation and occupa
tion within and for herself. Minds that are in a constant
state of application would have as much difficulty in
doing without it, as people who are not accustomed to
application would have, if they tried to apply themselves.
Make your greedy mind fast therefore, make it keep
silence, make it rest once more. Requiescite pusillum.
Your affairs will only go on all the better for this ; you
will take less trouble about them, and God will do
more. If you always wish to do everything, you give
Him no opportunity of doing anything as He pleases.
Oh, how dangerous it is to be a busy-body in the spiritual
life ! In the name of God, Vacate, et videte quoniam Ego
sum Deus — "Be still, and see that I am God."(f) This
is the true Sabbath of the Lord. And this cessation
of all activity is a great sacrifice. 233-
(I. 27.)
Containing some advice with regard to the time and
manner of prayer and other exercises of piety. Also
upon the choice of a person to whom the Duke might
open his heart. January 27, 1700.
Your letter, my good Duke, has given me a pleasure
that no words can express, and this pleasure makes me
(<¦) Ps. xlv. II.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 411
see how much I love you. It seems to me that you
are entering, at least by conviction, exactly into all
that God requires of you, and without which all your
labour would be in vain. As you are beginning to
understand this, I have nothing to add to the contents
of my first letter. I pray God that you may enter upon
this way, less through reflection and your own reason,
than through simplicity, humility, docility, and dis
appropriation of your own intelligence. If you enter
upon this way, not as possessing these things and
making them your own, but as being entirely possessed
by them, you will see what a change they will make in
the very depths of your natural character and in all
your habits. Believe, and you shall receive according
to the measure of your faith.
As for your prayer, I think you should begin it with
a book, which you may leave, whenever God may
more immediately occupy you with Himself. With
regard to the choice of a book, I am assuming that you
will take one of those you have mentioned to me, as
being full of unction and of nourishment for your heart.
And amongst books of this kind, choose, without putting
any constraint upon yourself, those which help you
most to a simple sense of the presence of God, and to
quiet the activity of your mind. You can even select
from each book the passages which best feed your soul,
and freely pass over the others.
As to the time of your prayer, I would advise you to
divide it, if possible, among different hours of the day,
taking one part in the morning, and another towards
the evening ; in the morning, a person is not supposed
to have risen, until he chooses to make his appearance :
and in this way, you can secure a quiet time to your
self. In the evening, you can secure half an hour in
your study, under the pretext of business to attend to,

412 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and you can give that time to pra3?er which you would
otherwise give to scientific curiosity : in this way, you
will gain a double profit ; for - you will mortify your
intellectual tastes, and you will live to God. The
journeys which you so frequently undertake will also
be very convenient for you ; you can make your prayer
in the carriage. The periods of your stay at Marli are
also periods of retreat and freedom.
I do not propose to you an exact length of time for
3'our prayer, because I would rather measure that,
either by the attraction you feel for prayer or the need
you have of it. If your attraction holds you in prayer
for a long time, you may allow that occupation to last
as long as your health and exterior duties may permit.
If the attraction is less felt, but if experience shows
you that it is only by a certain perseverance in prayer
that you can give up something that is dissipating your
mind, and that prayer alone can quiet 3'ou; in that
case, I would still advise you patiently to persevere in
prayer, until it has brought about that deep silence of
thought, which is so necessary for you. Thus, you see
I cannot lay down a fixed rule for you ; but God will
help you to make one for yourself. Do in this matter
as people do when they take the waters : begin by an
average quantity, and accustom yourself by degrees
to increase it. Afterwards you can tell me your
experiences. With regard to your Communions, I approve very
much that you should communicate two or three times
a week ; but I would rather that in this you should
follow the interior rule of necessity or attraction, than
that you should keep to an external form of certain
set days. I would also like you sometimes to vary
the place of your Communions, so as to give pain
to no one ; but this should be done without imposing

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 413
constraint upon yourself from politic reasons, a thing
which would be very pernicious to you.
With regard to your Confessions, you are right in
not going too often, or on certain stated days. It is
sufficient for you to go to confession, when the need of
it is somewhat marked ; this advice will not carry you
too far. You formerly had a confessor who did not
embarrass you in this matter : if you have the same
confessor now, you can act freely.
The most difficult matter to treat upon is the choice
of a person to whom you can open your heart. M 
would not suit you ; the good  * is not able to help
you to freedom, for he is himself too narrow. I can
only think of N  ; she has her faults, but you can
tell her of them, without speaking too decidedly.
The advice we give generally only wounds others,
because we give it as if it were certainly and incon-
testably true. We must neither judge, nor seek to
be believed. We must say what we think, not with
authority, or as if we thought a person would be
very wrong if he did not allow us to correct him ;
but simply to unburden our heart, that we may not be
guilty of a reserve that is contrary to simplicity, that
we may not fail in our duty to a person whom we love ;
but without preferring our ideas to his, knowing that
we may easily be deceived and scandalized when there
is no occasion ; and finally, we must be as contented
not to be believed when we make a mistake, as we are
glad to be believed when we say what is right. When
we give advice in such dispositions as these, we give it
very gently, and we make our advice loved. If it is
true, it enters by degrees into the heart of the person
who has need of it, and carries grace with it ; if it is
not true, we are gladly undeceived, and at once acknow-
* Probably the Due de Beauvilliers.

414 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
ledge that we had taken certain exterior things, either
wholly or in part, quite otherwise than we ought to
have taken them.
The good  * is impulsive, abrupt, and free-
spoken ; but she is kind, just, simple, and strict with
herself, as far as she knows how to be. I can even see
that she has grown much more reasonable in these last
two years ; she is not perfect, but no one is that. Are
you waiting until God sends you an angel ? Taking
one thing with another, she is, without comparison, the
best person to receive your confidence, unless I am
very much mistaken. She has clear views of things ;
she loves you, you love her ; you know each other ;
you can see each other whenever you wish ; you will
do her good, and I hope she will return it to you with
usury. Do not be repulsed by her defects : the very
Apostles were not without them. St. Paul expresses a
wish that his outward appearance may not be despised,
prcesentia corporis infirma,(f) this outward appearance
that was so ill-proportioned to the gravity of his
letters. Some counterbalancing infirmity is always
necessary for our personal humiliation, some veil, to
exercise the faith of those who beh&ld us.
If the good  ¦ speaks too freely to you, and if her
advice does not suit you, you can tell her so simply;
and she will stop at once. If the advice you give her
wounds her, she can tell you so in the same way.
Neither of you need decide in such matters, and each
one of you can at any moment limit your confidences.
I will take upon myself to regulate everything between
you, and to moderate all that might go too far. God
will never permit such a friendship, cemented by grace,
* Probably the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, sister-in-law of the
Due de Chevreuse. (") 2 Cor. x. 10.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 415
to turn to evil, provided only that you both enter upon
it with a humble heart and a spirit of disappropriation.
You will see that even the obstacles, which seem so
great in the distance, will grow smaller as you come
nearer to them. Even if you do meet with some diffi
culties, are not difficulties to be found everywhere, and
can any one help us to die, without giving us trouble
and pain ? I will answer for it, that the good •  will
do all you wish as well as she can, and for the rest, she
will agree to any rule I lay down.
These are my ideas, my good Duke ; correct them,
if you do not think them good. God sees my heart ; its
tenderness for you is redoubled. I pray Him to inspire
your heart with all that is necessary to accomplish His
designs upon you. 234-
(i. 28.)
Against a curious, reasoning, and over-eager spirit.
March 24, 1701.
Nothing has ever touched me more, my good Duke,
than the letter you have written to me, half from  -,
and half from Versailles. May God bless you, and
may He take delight in you, because of your humility.
Do not cease to distrust your spirit of curiosity and
your love of reasoning ; fear the inclination you have
for intellectual and learned men. You know that there
are even certain devout people, who are cold, critical,
and contemptuous, full of confidence in their own ideas,
and all the more to be feared by you, because your
inclination, your habits, and your trust have so long led
you in that direction.*
* The Due de Chevreuse had for a long time been connected
with the Jansenists, who had educated him.

416 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
With regard to your affairs, take no steps in them,
except such as you feel you ought to take, when you
are before God in prayer, such steps as are necessary
for the clearing up of difficulties and for enabling
the judges to do justice to you. Remember that all
arrangements of studied reasoning, all over-eager efforts
of solicitation, all persuasive eloquence, — that all such
things will never do so much as a moderate, quiet, and
simple perseverance, by which you will only act in pro
portion as grace prompts you to act, without giving
way to your natural impetuosity.
Above all things, reserve to yourself certain hours
for prayer, for reading sufficiently to provide food for
your prayer, and for calming the natural agitation which
a multitude of important affairs always causes. Every
thing depends upon that, and you cannot be too firm in
thus entrenching yourself against the torrent of affairs
which would otherwise carry you away.
Since the humility of the Child Jesus makes you
find, in a very good person, better even than we first
thought, a friendship which helps 3'ou and keeps alive
your grace, do not fail to seek consolation from that
person, and make it easy for yourself to do so: such
a friendship will draw a special blessing upon you.
235-
(I. 29.)
Against activity and curiosity, which extinguish the
spirit of prayer and grace. June 16, 1 701.
I am delighted, my good Duke, that you have found
in the person of whom you speak to me all that you
needed to find. God gives as it pleases Him, and

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 417
where it pleases Him. Naaman could not be cured
in the rivers of Syria ; it was necessary for him to have
recourse to the river of Palestine. What does it matter
from whence light and assistance come to us? It is
only a question of the source ; if that is pure, the
channel matters nothing. That which most exercises
our faith, which most overthrows our human wisdom,
that which makes us simple and humble, and un
deceives us most with regard to our own spirit, is
exactly what most coincides with the designs of God
for us. Receive then what He gives you, and receive
it with dependence upon the Spirit which breatheth where
He will : thou knowest not whence He cometh, and whither He
goeth.f) But it is not a question of wishing to know
what God wishes to conceal ; it is sufficient to be
faithfully attentive to what He shows us.
If you will only wean yourself from all curiosity and
all superfluous reasoning, you will gain a great deaL
of time for prayer and for necessary business. The
spirit of prayer will make you simple, prompt in action,.
decided, sober in thoughts and words, calm in the
midst of difficulties. The human spirit is feverishly
active, verbose, vacillating, impetuous, full of plans
and schemes, wishing always to succeed in everything
and to do impossible things, losing what is good by
grasping after what is better, expecting to persuade and
please and conciliate everybody. The spirit of grace
quietly seeks only to be faithful, without fearing any
of the troubles which fidelity cannot avoid. This is
that peace which the world can neither give nor take
away, and which surpasses all human understanding.
How should the world give it ? The world knows it
not and cannot know it ; the world cannot even believe
in its existence in the hearts of those who enjoy it.
C) John iii. 8. **
BB

418 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Reasoning is a great dissipation of the soul.
Reasoners, learned men who have no experience of
prayer, extinguish the interior spirit, as the wind
extinguishes a taper. After we have been in their
company, we feel that our hearts are dried up and our
minds displaced from their centre. Be afraid of this
sort of people ; they are infectious for you. Some of
them appear recollected, and they are not so at all.
It is easy to mistake a certain fervour of imagination
for recollection. This kind of people are very zealous
in the pursuit of certain exterior benefits to which they
are passionately attached. This zeal distracts them,
for they are continually occupied with different objects
upon which they reason, subtilize, and exhaust them
selves ; but they have not interior peace, they have
not that silence in which the soul listens for the voice
of God ; therefore they are more infectious than other
people, because their dissipation is more disguised.
Sound them to the bottom and you will find that they
are restless men, given to criticism, impetuous, always
occupied with exterior things, hard and unbending in
all their desires, sensitive through excessive reflection,
full of their own ideas, impatient at the least contra
diction ; in short they are spiritual busy-bodies, troubled
about everything, and almost always troublesome to
everybody else. The less you see of such people,
the more free will you be to act according to your
grace. With regard to your journey to Chaulnes, God
knows, my dear Duke, what joy I should feel if it
could obtain for me the consolation of seeing you ; but
it is for you, who are on the spot, to know better than
I can what can be done without any ill-consequences.
Take counsel, I beg of you, with the good Due de
Beauvilliers, and do afterwards what you think best.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 419
236.
(I. 30.)
He consoles him for the recent loss of one of his sons.
August 1, 1701.
I have learnt with deep grief, my good Duke, of
the loss you have just experienced.* God has per
mitted it, and we must be silent. Nothing remains for
us but to pray for him whom we have lost. You know
that I loved him very much, and have always been
very much interested in all that concerned him. I am
certain that you will bear this cross in peace, and that
you have at once made a sacrifice to God of this dear
child, whom it has pleased Him to take to Himself
again. But I am in trouble when I think of the tender
affection of the Duchess for her son, and although I
have no doubt of her conformity with the will of God,
yet I fear that her heart will have very much to suffer,
and I pray our Lord to console her.
The sweetnesses of this life are scarcely ever con
soling, and they almost always expose us to the danger
of being too much attached to them ; but as for the
bitternesses of which life is full, they are indeed real
and mortifying. Our whole path in life is sown and
bordered with thorns ; we are only in this world to
suffer, and to love Him Who tries us by these suffer
ings. All our purest attachments are turned into so
many crosses for us. God severs them, to unite us
more entirely to Himself; and in severing them, He
* The Due de Chevreuse had just lost the Chevalier d' Albert,
his son, who was killed on the 9th of July, at the Battle of Carpi,
on the Adige, at the head of a dragoon regiment which he was
commanding.

420 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
tears from us our very heart-strings, to which these
exterior objects held fast. We must allow the hand
of God to perform this painful operation on every
occasion. More than any one else, I ought to feel for the grief
of the kind Duchess, who has sympathized so much
with my trials. I have just heard that some good
people have gone to see you at  -, and I am delighted
to hear it, hoping that this visit may have helped to
comfort your hearts. I wish I could be invisibly
transported into your solitude. But it seems to me
that we are very near each other, even though God
keeps us at a distance ; it is in Him that I never cease
to carry you in my heart, and I will do so, my good
and dear Duke, until the last breath of my life.
237-
(i- 31)
On the same subject. August 18, 1701.
I have received your letter on your sad loss, my
good and dear Duke, and I think that you will have
received by this time the letter which I wrote to you
on the same subject, as soon as I could find a safe
means of doing so. I feel very much, both for this
loss and for the grief with which you appear to me to
be overwhelmed ; but I cannot be in trouble about
your heart, as I have no doubt that it is in that true
peace which is always inseparable from the love of the
whole will of God. I only compassionate you for that
secret wound by which your heart is, as it were, pierced
through and through. But suffering is the secret life
of souls in this world ; for it is only by a feeling of

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 421
death that the germ of a new life is formed within us.
All that seems to make the grain decay in the earth,
makes it in reality germinate and grow ready for the
harvest. Nevertheless, you must not give way to thoughts
that are too full of grief. The weaknesses of so impres
sionable an age, and of a life so full of distractions,
are less malicious than certain vices of the mind, which
we refine and disguise under the appearance of virtues
when we come to a more advanced age. God sees the
clay of which He Himself has made us, and He has
pity on His poor children.
Besides, although the torrent of passion and bad
example may have carried a young man a little away
from the right path, yet we can say of him, as the
Church says in her prayers for those in their agony :
Nevertheless, 0 my God, he has believed and hoped in Thee.
Faith and religious principle, deeply rooted though
dormant in the soul during the tumult of excited
passion, may awake suddenly in a moment of extreme
danger. Such an extremity dissipates at once all the
illusions of life, withdraws a kind of curtain, opens the
eyes to eternit3', and recalls to the mind all the truths
that had been obscured. However slightly God may
act at such a moment, the first movement of a heart
that has once been His is to have recourse to His
mercy. God has no need of any length of time or of
any words, to make Himself heard and felt. He said to
the Magdalen only one word: Mary ;(f) and she only
answered Him in one word: Master ; and all was said.
God calls His creature by name, and already His
creature has returned to Him. Such an ineffable word
is all-powerful ; it creates a new heart and a new spirit
within us. Weak men, who see only the exterior,
(") John xx. 16.

422 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
might require preparations, carefully arranged acts,
resolutions properly expressed. God has need but of
one instant ; and in that instant He can do all, and see
all that He is doing.
It would be a horrible presumption on our part to
expect such miracles of grace ; but He Who forbids us
to expect them, takes pleasure sometimes in performing
them. You will find in the fifth and in the fiftieth
Homilies of St. Augustine, and in other places also,
that life itself is a grace, because God only prolongs it
to invite us to be converted, up to the last moment.
Let us have no doubts therefore on this subject. He
Who sincerely desires the salvation of sinners, only
waits for them to save them ; and it would be in vain
for Him to wait for them, if, in the last hour of their
final struggle, He were to refuse them the necessary
assistance which alone could make their salvation
possible. Consolamini in verbis istis — " Comfort ye one
another with these words." (f)
I pray the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, to soften the
affliction of the Duchess and yours also. I carry you
both every day in my heart at the altar, with all your
family ; you will all be precious to me, to my last
breath. Neither do I there forget the poor child whom
you have lost. I am, in Him Who has loved us so
much, and Whom we all wish to love, full of devotion
and affection for you, my good Duke, and for the
Duchess. (") i Thess. iv. 17.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 423
238.
(VI. 200.)
Consolation on the death of his eldest son.
September, 1704.
Your grief is always present to me. I do not lose
sight of the great loss you have suffered; but God
takes away that which is His, and not ours. Who
shall say to Him, Why hast Thou done this? You
are very far from saying so to Him. You know that
He has no account to give us. His good pleasure is
supreme reason. To say, Sit pro ratione voluntas — " I put
my will in the place of reason" — is an unbearable
caprice on the part of any creature ; but in God, the
all-reasonable, the very same thing is perfect justice.
Besides, we can always see, in the most severe blows
from His paternal hand, a secret design of mercy. He
takes away, whilst they are in good dispositions,
certain weak men whom the fascination of the world
might perhaps have led astray: Raptus est; . . .
properavit educere ilium de medio iniquitatum — "He was
taken amay; He hastened to bring him out of the midst of
iniquities." (f)
Oh, what wonders we shall see in the other life,
which escape our sight in this ! Then we shall sing
the canticle of joy and eternal gratitude, for events
which made us weep here below. Alas ! in our present
darkness we do not see either the true good or the true
evil. If God did as we should like, He would lose us all.
He saves us by breaking our bonds, and making us
cry out with bitter cries. The same blow which saves
those we love, by taking them away from the midst of
(<*) Wisdom iv. 11, 14.

424 SPIRITUAL' LETTERS.
iniquity, detaches us, and prepares us, by the death
of others, for our own death. What could we wish, for
ourselves or for those we love, from this vain and
contagious world ? If it is true that faith and the love
of God are the life of our heart, ought we to weep,
because God loves us better than we can possibly love
ourselves ? Shall we complain because He takes away
from temptation and sin those who are dear to us ?
Does He do harm to us, by shortening their days
of misery, of conflict, of seduction, and scandal ?
What do we desire for them ? A longer time of
danger, and more violent temptations, to which the
elect themselves, if it were possible, would yield ?
We desire all that flatters our self-love, that we
may forget our true country in this place of exile.
God snatches away the poison from us, and we weep
as a child weeps when his mother takes away a
pretty knife from him, with which he might pierce his
breast. Your son was having a great success in the midst
of this pernicious world : it was this success which
was doing harm to him, and it was this success which
caused the thread of his life to be cut short, by a
design of mercy for him and for his. We must adore
God, and keep silence.
Why can I not come to see you, and show you
how much I feel for the deep wound which I would
gladly cure ! It is only the true Comforter Whose
society can console you. Let us remain then in silence
with Him ; He will comfort us. We shall find all
things in Him alone. Happy is he who wishes for no
other consolation ! This one is pure and inexhaustible.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 425'

239-
(I- 53-)
That the transition from a state of dependence to a state
of liberty must, with young people, be made by
successive and gradual changes. On the liberty
which may be allowed to a young lady with regard
to the theatre. January 13, 1705.
I do not think, my good and very dear Duke, that
you must look upon the question concerning Madame
la  * as if it were a case of conscience for you to
decide upon. Although she is very young, and although
you are in a measure responsible for her, it is neverthe
less true that one of the most important items in her
education at present is, that you should gradually and
imperceptibly give her the liberty, which she must only
have entirely when she has attained a certain age.
When liberty is given suddenly and without measure
to a person who has been kept under restraint for a
long time, it gives him a wild delight at being free, and
almost always plunges him into excesses. When a
person must soon be trusted and put upon his honour,
we must make him pass from the state of dependence
in which he is to this full freedom, by an almost
imperceptible change, like a gradual shading of colours.
No one likes to be in a state of subjection : every one
is flattered and dazzled by freedom. Therefore we
must gradually give a young person a moderate taste
of liberty first, to show him that liberty is not quite all
he imagines it to be, and that there is an absurd
* Undoubtedly this lady was the daughter-in-law of the Duke,
the wife of the Vidame d'Amiens.

426 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
delusion in the pleasure he promises himself to enjoy
by eating the forbidden fruit.
I would advise you then to begin early to treat
Madame la  as a grown-up person, who must
learn to control herself and not make a bad use of any
liberty she may be allowed. Do not decide for her,
whether she shall go to the opera or to the play, and
never take upon yourself such a case of conscience as
this, which she must discuss with her confessor; but
include an occasional visit to the opera or a play, in
the extent of the liberty 3'ou mean to give her. Allow
her to go out with Madame de  , or with some other
lady who can be trusted to take care of her, and if
they sometimes take her to the play: very well, no
harm is done. Do not pretend to ignore it ; do not
say positively that you approve of it ', but, without any
affectation, let such things take their course, as you are
beginning to give her a kind of half-liberty. If she
speaks to you about it, do not be scared at anything,
and do not give a formal consent to anything, but refer
her to a good confessor, who is neither too easy nor too
severe. She will recognize at the same time, your
steadfast piety, and your condescension in waiting
until she is undeceived.
In this way, my dear Duke, it seems to me that
you will neither overburden your own conscience, nor
the conscience of our good Duchess, and you will be
acting in a manner calculated to touch the heart of
this young lady. You will see what use she will make
of such a sample of liberty, and this experience will be
a rule for your guidance in the future.
Nothing has ever given me more pleasure than to
hear from you that you now understand several things
relating to the spiritual life, quite differently from the
way in which you formerly understood them, although

T0 THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 427
you then imagined you understood them quite well.
The Master Who gives us instruction in the depths of
our souls, instructs us much better than any exterior
masters. He who has not learnt from these secret
lessons, knows nothing as he should know it : there is
the same difference in this, that there is in hearing any
one speak of a certain man and actually seeing him
ourselves. Listen always to the voice of God within
you, and do not listen to yourself. The silence of the
soul, when it listens to God alone, can do all things.

240.
(I. 68.)
He exhorts the Duke to terminate as soon as possible some
family affairs, that he may afterwards be more at
liberty to occupy himself with God.
Cambrai, February 24, 1707.
I send you, my good Duke, a letter for your son,
the Vidame ; read it : if I have made a mistake in
writing it, simply do not give it to him ; if you approve
of it, have the kindness to close it up and give it to
him. I often think of you with a very tender heart. It
seems to me that my devotion to the Duchesse de
Chevreuse increases. When I saw her at Chaulnes, I
found her much more detached from everything than
formerly ; she is very good, and I hope she will be still
better. Put all your affairs in as much order as
possible, but do it quietly, and think of disengaging
yourself from them. Every affair, whatever care and
skill we employ in it, is not well done if we do not
finish it ; we must be brief, if we wish to reach the

428 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
end, and we must sacrifice much to gain time in a life
so short. Oh, how much I hope that you will be able
to take breath after so many labours ! In the meantime,
we must find God within ourselves, in spite of all that
surrounds us to deprive us of Him. It is little to see
Him by an effort of our mind as an object ; we must
have Him within us as a principle of life : as long as
He is only an object to us, He is, as it were, outside
of us ; but when He is the principle of our life, we
bear Him within ourselves, and by degrees He takes,
more and more completely, the place of self. Self here
is self-love. The love of God is God Himself within
us. We shall find God alone within us, in proportion
as the love of God has there taken over the office and
all the functions which self-love had usurped there.
Good-night, my good Duke : do not listen to 3'our-
self, and God will speak to 3'ou incessantly : His reason
will triumph on the ruins of yours. What an advan
tageous exchange ! 241.
(I. 69.)
On death to self.
Cambrai, May 17, 1707.
I have waited, my good Duke, as long as I possibly
could, for the Vidame to pass through here ; but he
does not come, and I can no longer put off my depar
ture for my visitations. Our P. A. (the Abbe de
Langeron) will tell you much more than I could write
to you. He will speak to you of all that has to do
with metaphysics and theology.
With regard to your spiritual life, I can only
recommend you two things : one is, to shorten as much

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 429
as you can all your exterior actions and conversations,
the other is, that you fast from reasoning. When you
cease to reason, you will die to yourself; for reason is
the very essence of your life. Now, what can you wish
for, that is more safe and more perfect, than death to
self? Nothing is so opposed to the delusion of self-love
as this, which puts the axe to the root of the tree and
kills this self-love. The more you reason, the more
food you give to this philosophical life of yours.
Abandon yourself then to the simplicity and folly of
the Cross. The first chapter of the first Epistle to the
Corinthians was written for you.
Try to put your affairs into shape, that afterwards
you may rest. You must try to calm the good Duchess
when she is anxious to see the end of it all : but you
must bear with her impatience quietly, and make use
of it as a spur to urge you to a speedy conclusion. We
gain by losing when we lose that we may finish quickly.
Sed ut sapientes, redimentes tempus — "As wise, redeeming the
time, because the days are evil."(f)
If you are coming to Chaulnes this autumn, let me
know of it in good time, and tell me, with simplicity,
if I may come and see you there. God knows what
joy I should have in doing so ! Love always, my good
Duke, the man who is devoted to you, ad convivendum
et commoriendum. (a) Ephes. v. 16.

43O SEIRITUAL LETTERS.

242.
(I. 72)
On the death of the A rchbishop of Rouen* the brother
of the Duchess. December 24, 1707.
I do not wish, my dear Duke, to fatigue our good
Duchess by a letter of condolence. She does not
require any compliments from me, and, unless I
deceive myself very much, she has no doubt of the
sincerity with which I am interested in all that concerns
her. I have really felt for the loss she has just suffered
in the death of her brother ; but I adore the hand of
God in this trial. This prelate had a principle of faith
although it was mixed with natural inclinations and
dissipation. God prepared him for his end by a long
illness, and finally took from him all that was dangerous
for him. We know, my good Duke, how often we have
seen similar mercies shown towards members of the
same family.f We must thank God for such proofs of
His goodness, and turn these losses to our own advan
tage, by detaching ourselves from all things.
A detachment, which is the fruit of grace, never
either terminates or weakens friendships ; it only
purifies them. Can we love our best friends better
than when we love them with the love of God Himself,
and love God in them ? It is in this way, my good
Duke, that I wish to love you all, and in no other
* Jacques-Nicolas Colbert, who died at Paris, on the 10th of
December, aged fifty-three (See in first volume of this translation,
pp. 12—15).
t In allusion to the Marquis de Seignelai, the eldest brother of
the Archbishop of Rouen and of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, who
died at the age of thirty-nine.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 431
way. I wish to see in each one of you only the sole
Beloved of my heart. Can we complain of those who
love their friends in this way? They love them as
they love themselves. Is not this the most sincere,
the purest, the strongest, and the most unchanging
love? I would say more to you on this matter, but I have
not yet quite recovered from a feverish cold, which
has troubled me for the last three days. Give me
news, I beg of you, on the first opportunity, of your
son (the Vidame). I always remember him at the altar
with emotion.
Good-bye, my good Duke ; may God be within you,
cutting down, thinning out, taking away all the useless
wood, to leave only the trunk alone, nourished with the
pure sap. May He be All in all things !
243-
(i- 73-)
Upon the state of purefaith, and the subtraction of
sensible fervour. [No date.]
A loving father is not always thinking of his son : a
thousand objects may attract his imagination, and
through his imagination, his mind. But these distrac
tions never really interrupt the paternal love : whenever
he remembers his son, he loves him ; and he feels in his
inmost heart that he has never ceased for one moment
to love him, although he may sometimes have ceased
thinking of him. Such should be our love for our
Father in Heaven ; a simple love, without distrust and
without uneasiness. If our imagination wanders, if
our understanding is distracted, do not let us be

432 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
troubled ; these two powers are not the real man of the
heart, the hidden man, of whom St. Peter speaks, who
is in the incorruptibility of a quiet and meek spirit. (f) We
have only to make a good use of the thoughts that are
free by directing them always towards the presence of
the Beloved, without troubling ourselves about the
others. It is for God to increase, when He pleases, our
sensible facility for realizing His presence. He often
takes it away from us for our advancement ; for this
facility amuses us by too many reflections, and these
reflections are real distractions, which intercept our
simple and direct occupation with God, and in that
way withdraw us from the darkness of pure faith. In
these reflections we seek for something for self-love to
rest upon, and for the consolation which the evidence
of such things gives us. Therefore we are really
distracted by this sensible fervour ; and, on the con
trary, we never pray so purely as when we are tempted
to think we are not praying at all. Then we fear we
are praying badly, but we ought only to fear giving
way to the feeling of desolation which comes from our
cowardly nature, and to the philosophical infidelity
which always wishes to demonstrate to itself the reality
of the soul's operations in the way of faith ; and
finally, we ought to fear our impatient desire of seeing
and feeling, for our consolation.
There is no more bitter penance than this state of
pure faith, without any sensible support : from whence
I conclude that it is a penance that is the most
effectual, the most crucifying, and the most exempt
from all delusion. Strange temptation ! We seek
impatiently for sensible consolation, fearing that we are
not sufficiently penitent. Ah ! why cannot we accept
(<*) i Pet. iii. 4.

TO THE DUC DE CHEVREUSE. 433
as our penance the renunciation of this consolation,
which we are so much tempted to desire ?
Finally, we must remember Jesus Christ, Who was
forsaken by His Father, as He hung on the Cross.
God withdrew all feeling and all reflection, to hide
Himself from Jesus Christ. This was the last blow
from the hand of God that struck the Man of Sorrows.
This was what consummated the Sacrifice. We must
never abandon ourselves so entirely to God as when
He seems to have abandoned us. Let us therefore
receive light and consolation when He pours them upon
us, but without attaching ourselves to them. When
He buries us in the night of pure faith, then let us
go willingly into this night where all is agony: one
moment is worth a thousand in that tribulation. We
are distressed, and yet we are at peace : not only does
God hide Himself from us, but He hides us from
ourselves, that all may be of faith. We feel ourselves
discouraged, and yet we have an unchanging will, that
wills all that God wills, however hard it may be. We
will all, we accept all, even to the very trouble by
which we are tried. Therefore we are secretly at peace
by means of this determination to endure the conflict,
which is preserved in the depths of our soul. Blessed
be God, Who does such great things within us, in spite
of our unworthiness.
When I have the honour of seeing you again, we
will speak of matters upon which 3-011 desire an expla
nation. I pray our Lord to load you all with His
graces, you, Madame de Chevreuse, and every member
of your family.

cc

LOUIS-AUGUSTE D'ALBERT D'AILLY,
VIDAME D'AMIENS,
AND AFTERWARDS (17H) DUC DE CHAULNES,
Was the fifth son of the Due de Chevreuse, and was born on
December 20, 1676. The death of his elder brothers made
him heir to the estates of the Due de Chaulnes, who was
first-cousin to his grandfather, the Due de Luynes. He
married, on July 21, 1704, Marie-Anne Romaine de Beau-
manoir, daughter of Henri-Charles Beaumanoir, Marquis de
Lavardin. In 1711, the Due de Chevreuse obtained for him
a new creation of the title of Due de Chaulnes ; he then
assumed that title, and transmitted his title of Vidame
d'Amiens to his eldest son. During the war of the Spanish
succession, he served in several campaigns under the Due de
Bourgogne, and especially distinguished himself at the
disastrous Battle of Oudenarde, in 1708. It was often
through him that the young Prince and the Archbishop of
Cambrai were able to carry on their usual correspondence.
The Due de Chaulnes was afterwards created Marshal of
France. He died on November 9, 1744.
LETTERS TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS
(CREATED DUC DE CHAULNES IN 17II).
244-
(I- 52.)
He sympathizes with the grief caused by the death of his
elder brother, and profits by this sad event to recall
him to a more Christian life. October 22, 1704.
I have felt for your sad loss, sir, with a deep grief ;
my heart still aches on that account. The vanity and

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 435
illusion of this dream which we call life have been
brought very near you by this touching example.*
Men cling very much to this world ; but the world
does not stay with them. Life, which is so uncertain
for all men, is infinitely more so for those of your
profession. They cannot be sure of one day, however
good their health may be. They are only occupied with
the amusements of this life, although they continually
discover the hollowness of them : they scarcely ever
think of death, and nevertheless they go continually to
meet it, as if it were not coming to them fast enough.
We are always in God's hands, without thinking of
Him, and we make use of all His gifts to offend Him.
We would not wish to die, hating Him eternally ; but
we do not wish to live in His love. We confess that we
owe everything to Him, and we will do nothing for
Him. We prefer the amusements which we despise
most to Him. We would not dare to mention the
things which we often put in our hearts above Him.
We know the unworthiness of this world, and yet we
meanly serve it ; we know the greatness and infinite
goodness of God, and yet we give Him onhy vain
ceremonies. In this state our conduct is as much
opposed to reason as to faith.
You know the truth, sir; you wish to love it. You
would have a horror of dying in a state in which those
who call themselves honourable men of the world are
not ashamed to live ; but the torrent carries you away.
You are not at peace with yourself, and yet you cannot
make up your mind to do that which would restore
peace to your heart.
What is keeping you back ? All the shifts and
* Honore-Charles, Duke of Montfort, the elder brother of the
Vidame d'Amiens, had just been killed in a battle fought near
Landau, on the preceding gth of September.

436 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
half-measures which men vainly think of, to spare
themselves, are false. God wishes you to give Him
all, and all is due to Him. No division of your
heart, no delay, is allowable for you. The least w~e
can do for Him, from Whom we have received every
thing, and to Whom we owe everything, is to give
ourselves up to Him in good faith. Do you wish to
dictate laws to God ? Do you wish to prescribe limits
to Him as to how far you will go in His service ? Do
you wish to say to Him : I find Thee sufficiently
amiable to deserve that I should sacrifice to Thee
such and such an interest, and such and such a
pleasure ; but I cannot make a resolution to love Thee
enough to sacrifice that other special pleasure to Thee ?
Are you waiting until your passions are exhausted
before you will make a sacrifice of them to Him ? Do
you wish to pass your life in ingratitude, in resistance
to the Holy Spirit, and in contempt of the goodness of
God, while you are waiting until your love of the world
is worn out ? Do you wish to run the risk of the
horrible event of one of those sudden deaths by which
God sometimes surprises ungrateful and hardened
sinners ?
It is not a question of abstaining only from great
sins ; you must set yourself seriously towards w7hat is
right, must do good constant^', must look behind you
no more, must make a resolution of controlling yourself
continually, and must nourish your faith with spiritual
reading, with heartfelt prayer, and with the thought of
the presence of God during the day.
You must distrust your weakness, and still more
your self-conceit, for if you are not self-conceited, your
weakness will humble you, and will make you feel the
need of prayer. You must fear and avoid all dangerous
society, as far as your position will permit. When

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 437
we do not love evil, we have no longer any affection
either for the occasion, or the appearance, or the
remembrance of it.
You must so order 3'our life as to be able to receive
the sacraments often, with fruit and consolation, that
they ma3r help to raise you from your present state of
lukewarmness and fatal dissipation. We are often
disgusted with ourselves almost to the point of dis
couragement and a temptation to despair ; and yet we
will not seek for strength where it may be found, nor
draw heavenly consolation from its very source. Oh,
how satisfied your heart would be if you had broken
all your bonds ! Oh, how you would thank God for
having saved you from yourself, if once this result were
attained ! It is a painful operation ; but the health it
brings makes the patient happy afterwards. I pray
our Lord to give you the necessary courage : do you
yourself ask the same of Him, very often. It is in
Him, sir, that I am devoted to you without reserve.

245-
(I- 54-)
He urges the Vidame to give himself to God.
May 28, 1705.
I am delighted to hear, sir, that you are not going
far away from our frontier, and that I shall still be able
to torment you by my letters. I do not wish either to
flatter or to discourage you with regard to the affair in
question ; you will never have any true rest until it is
accomplished. The comparison you make is a very
just one, it expresses everything ; but when a person
knows himself as you know yourself, he has no excuse

43^ SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
if he does not carry such knowledge into effect against
himself. That which I ask of you does not require a great
effort of courage ; it is only that you should at once
begin a work which you know cannot be done too soon,
and that you should no longer listen to yourself. You
will spare yourself a great deal of suffering and danger ;
you will even spare others a great deal of suffering by
deciding everything at once. We can only mitigate
the agony of painful operations by performing them as
quickly as possible, and we can only make sure of their
efficacy, if sincerely distrusting ourselves, as you ought
to distrust yourself after so many experiences, we
put ourselves at once in a happy state of inability
to fall back into the same evil courses, under any
pretence. If you wish, in good faith, to put all this
in execution, why are you still hesitating and delaying
with so much artfulness, and thus only making it more
difficult for yourself?
Reserve to yourself every day a free quarter of an
hour in the morning, and as much towards the evening,
that you may accustom yourself to draw strength from
its true source. If 3'ou do this faithfully, you will be
quite astonished to find yourself very much stronger
and more decided than you could have dared to hope.
Try it perseveringly, and then tell me how you get on.
I think of you, sir, every hour in the day ; I carry
you in my inmost heart, and I cannot express to you
with what zeal I am devoted to you, for the whole of
nry life.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 439

246.
(I- 55-)
On the same subject. June 16, 1705.
I cannot read your letters, sir, without being
delighted to see how well you know the man whose
weakness you describe. Your letters are a formal
condemnation of this friend of yours, if he does not
reform. He ought never to forget the comparison
between a tooth that is pulled out suddenly and as it
were by surprise, and another tooth that is gradually-
loosened and only shaken a little after several half-pulls.
Even if our sole object were to manage with as little
pain to ourselves as possible something that must be
done sooner or later, the best plan would still be to do
it quickly and without giving ourselves time to realize
it. Moreover, in this particular affair there is a very
special assistance given to those who do not enter upon
it in a half-hearted manner. The truest wisdom is to
have no temporizing in this matter, and to pay no more
attention to self-love. We shall be powerfully supported,
as soon as we acknowledge our own weakness, and
throw ourselves into the arms of our true Friend without
looking back.
Do not fear any enemies who may arise against you.
What they say is only worthy of contempt ; despise
them, and they will soon respect you. Be simple and
true, gentle, temperate, accommodating, diligent in all
your duties, holding your own in essential things
without any affectation ; then every one will soon be
silenced and will do you justice.
I could not forget you when I am with the Friend

44° SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
in Whom you trust, I will do all you ask me to do
with Him. Nothing can exceed my affection for
you. 247.
(I. 57-)
He urges the Vidame to follow the leading of his
conscience. Cambrai, October 30, 1705.
You are now, sir, at the end of your campaign, and
I am hoping every day to see you, as you pass this way.
I shall take the liberty^ of asking you many indiscreet
questions. You must indeed pardon me for doing so.
Make m37 joy complete, I beg of you. How glad I
¦shall be if I find you have come to a decision, and that
you are perfectly at peace with yourself.
We can satisfy neither ourselves nor any one else,
as long as we bear within us a principle which we will
not follow and cannot stifle. We torment ourselves,
we are afraid of ourselves, we dare not be alone with
ourselves or enter into the depths of our own hearts ;
we are like a man who is driven from his own home
and obliged to wander all round it like a vagabond.
Besides, we are not natural in the society of others,
because we are walking with fetters on.
Set yourself free, therefore. And freedom consists
in being no longer led captive by your own weakness,
against your convictions, and against the real attraction
of your heart. It will cost you something at first, but
much less than you imagine, and this brief pain will
turn into an everlasting consolation.
Horace, although he was a pagan and a libertine,
says, Sapere aude ; and again, Dimidium facti, qui ccepit,

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 441
habet.if) Do you expect to deliver yourself from all
that has cost you so much, without the effort costing
you anything ? I am awaiting your attack, my friend-
enemy, nor do I intend to budge an inch from my post ;
you will not get the better of me so easily as you did
of the Duke of Marlborough. 248.
(I- 59)
He urges the Vidame to surrender to the pursuit of the
Divine mercy. Cambrai, June 25, 1706.
It is impossible to be more touched than I am, sir,
at your troubles and 3'our sincerity. I hope that the
way in which you open your heart may serve to heal
it ; this is what I never cease to beg of God for you
every day. His mercy forgets nothing that may help
you to break your bonds, and facilitate your entire
deliverance. It is time for you to respond to so many
graces. Why will you go on loving that so much
which can give you no love in return, and prefer it to
God, Who has loved you in all your wanderings, and
has not grown weary of waiting for you to return to
Him? You did not distrust yourself sufficiently when it was
a question of flying from evil things, and breaking with
them, and now you do not trust God enough when it
is a question of hoping that He will help you. The
separation which you had not the courage to make has
been made in spite of 3'ou, you have only now to let it
remain as it is, and not begin over again what the
goodness of God has ended.
(«) Epist. 1. i. ep. ii. v. 40.

442 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Now is the time for you to hope in Him. Do not
fear that you may not be able to remain in your present
state, God will take care to make it easy for you.
Amuse yourself with innocent pleasures, make little
occupations for yourself which will deceive 3'ou for your
good, and give your inclinations a little change. Return
every day to a short time of prayer and spiritual
reading. I forgive you for having been afraid of me, for
having avoided me, and for being delighted at not
seeing me ; these are only the natural consequences of
your unhappy state. I shall not run after 37ou any the
less. God wishes to have 3'ou for His own ; see all
He has done to take possession of you, and all you have
done to escape from Him. Do not tire out His patience,
do not be wicked that you may prevail against Him
Who is so good. Throw yourself into His arms without
listening to your own false reasons. Why cannot I
come to see 3-ou ? I would give my life for your real
conversion. Judge from that, sir, how devoted I am
to you. 249.
(I. 60.)
He congratulates him on his candour, and urges him
to make a generous resolution.
Cambrai, July 5, 1706.
You will see by the early date of this letter, sir, that
I did not forget you : that is what I could never do,
as long as I remain faithful to God. But I did not
dare to risk sending such a letter by the post, not
knowing where you might be, and fearing it might
never reach you, on account of the constant movements

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 443
of the troops, from one hour to another. I did not know
if you were stationed at Tournai, so as to be able to
receive my letter there.
But you must not imagine, sir, that I am at all
afraid of being troublesome to you. Since it is neces
sary for you to be troubled, I shall not fail to do so,
by evety safe means in my power. I am even as
pleased with you as it is possible to be, for telling me
so candidly your fear of being annoyed by me, and for
overcoming that fear, by begging of me to do the very
thing 3'ou dreaded.
There are within you two distinct persons, who will
never make peace with one another. If you wish to
have any rest, one of these persons must conquer the
other. The reasonable and Christian man will never
be so crushed by the other, please God, that you will
no longer feel any secret conflict on his part. There
fore you can never have any true peace by suffering
him to be overcome. Your only resource then is to
be found in helping him always, and whatever it may
cost you, against that other blind, bewitched man, who
has nothing strong about him except his unreasonable
passion. The more you overcome him, the greater
will be the peace and consolation of your inmost heart.
This is the decayed tooth which you must pull out.
There is a formal preparation which is very dreadful :
the acute pain does not last long ; as soon as the tooth
is out we can sleep in peace. It is through this sharp
pain that we find relief. Besides, we suffer far more
from putting it off and from our irresolution, than from
a quick and violent operation.
Pray from your heart, with confidence ; often enter
into your inmost heart, that you may find God there.
Notwithstanding your unworthiness, have recourse to
Him with the freedom and familiarity of a little child,

444 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
who can never doubt the goodness of his Father. Tell
Him all your difficulties, and the bad tricks of your
self-love, all the disgust you feel for virtue, all the
fear you have of making promises which you can never
break, and beg of Him to take possession of you,
since you know not how to give yourself to Him.
You did not send me the letter of the Due de
Chevreuse, you must have forgotten it. Have the
goodness to send it to me, by a safe hand, and be
certain, sir, that I am unreservedly devoted to you, for
life and death. 250.
(I. 67.)
He represents to the Vidame the patience, aud mercy
of God towards him.
Cambrai, February 9, 1707.
If my answer to you has been long dela3'ed, sir, it
is because I did not wish to answer you by the post.
But I need hardly say this, for you already judge
rightly in being sure of the anxiety I should have to
show you how much I am touched by your confidence.
The time of this winter is a precious time for you.
How do you know that it may not be the last of your
life ? Perhaps the conversations of your father, so
full of faith and zeal, but seasoned with tenderness and
moderation, with which he attempts to strengthen you
in the right way, may be the last words of truth 3'ou
will ever hear. Perhaps the impressions of grace which
you still feel may be the last graces which the mercy
of God will give to your heart. Hodie si vocem ejus
audieritis, nolite obdurare cor da vestra. — "To-day if you should
hear His voice, harden not your hearts." (f)
(") Ps. xciv. 8.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 445
God has had such great pity for your weakness, that
He has snatched from 3'ou that which you would never
have had the courage to give Him. He has caused to
drop out of your unwilling hands the thing which you
had to fear. He has broken your bonds ; and yet you
do not wish to be free. What more must He do to
render your salvation easy ?
Now, the time of danger is approaching : Juxta est
dies perditionis, et adesse festinant tempora — " The day of
destruction is at hand, and the time makes haste to come."(f)
You have no fear for your body ; but at least fear for
your soul. You may despise the weapons of men,
but do not despise the judgments of God. Alas !
I fear even His mercies for you. So many graces
trampled under foot will at last turn to vengeance
against you. And nothing is so terrible as the wrath
of the Lamb.
But what is the reason that you do not serve God ?
You believe His truths ; you hope for His blessings ;
you know the senseless error of the impious ; you feel
the vanity and illusion of the present life, the witch
craft of the world, the poison of prosperity, the treason
of flattering promises, the rapid passing away of all
that is going to vanish for ever. You have been
delivered from your slavery, in spite of yourself; your
fetters are broken, and you will not enjoy the liberty
of the children of God which is offered to you. You
cannot mention anything now which can still divide
your heart. Why do you put off seeking for peace
and life at their only source ? Gustate, et videte quoniam
suavis est Dominus — ¦" 0 taste and see that the Lord is
sweet." (e)
Oh, how guilty you will be, if you resist so many
advances which God has made to you ! How patient
(«) Deut. xxxii. 35. (e) Ps. xxxiii. 9.

446 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
He is with you ! How you have made Him wait !
How you have repulsed Him, for the sake of unworthy
amusements ! Oh, my dear Vidame, delay no longer,
open your heart to Him ; begin to pray to Him, to
read in a spirit of prayer, to regulate your time, to
fulfil your duties, to overcome your taste for amuse
ment. In this matter the world itself, corrupt as it
is, is in agreement with God. Forgive me for having
preached so much.
I cannot take Courcelles. I do not know yet if my
upholsterer is going to leave me ; if he does, only an
upholsterer would do to take his place.
A thousand respects to your wife. I hope very
much that she has some kind remembrance of me.

251.
(I. 71.)
He teaches him how to occupy himself during prayer.
May 31, 1707.
You ask me, sir, how you must pra3f and occupy
yourself with God, so that you may be united to Him
and strengthened against the temptations of life. I
know how much you desire to find the help you need
in this holy exercise.
I think that you cannot have too much confidence
in God, in your intercourse with Him. Tell Him all
that is weighing upon your heart, as we unburden our
hearts to a kind friend and tell him of all that grieves
us or gives us pleasure. Tell Him your troubles, in order
that He may console you ; tell Him your joys, in order
that He may moderate them ; reveal your desires to
Him, that He may purify them ; represent your repug-

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 447
nances to Him, that He may assist you to overcome
them ; speak to Him of your temptations, that He may
secure you against them ; show Him all the wounds
of your heart, that He may heal them. Disclose to
Him your coldness for good, your depraved taste for
evil, your dissipation, 3'our weakness, your inclination
for the corrupt world. Tell Him how your self-love
inclines you to be unjust against your neighbour ;
how your vanity tempts you to be untruthful, that
you may dazzle men in society; how your pride
disguises itself to others and to yourself. When you
are thus telling Him all your weaknesses, all your
needs, and all your troubles, what will you not have
to say to Him ! You will never exhaust these things ;
they will be for ever new.
People who conceal nothing from each other are
never in want of subjects for conversation : they do
not prepare their conversations beforehand, or set
limits to themselves as to how , much they will say,
because they have nothing to keep back. Again, they
make no forced attempts at conversation : they only
speak to each other out of the abundance of their
hearts ; they speak without reflection, as the thoughts
come ; it is the heart of the one speaking to the heart of
the other; it is two hearts pouring themselves, so to
speak, into each other. Happy are those who attain
to this familiar and unreserved friendship with God !
In proportion as you speak to Him, He will speak
to you. Therefore you must often be silent, and let
Him speak in His turn, that you may listen to Him
in the depths of your heart. Say to Him : Loquere,
Domine, quia audit servus tuus — " Speak, Lord, for Thy
servant heareth.(f) And again : Audiam quid loquatur in me
Dominus — " I will hear what the Lord will speak to me."(f)
(") 1 Kings iii. 10. (') Ps. lxxxiv. 9.

448 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Add to this, with a loving and filial fear : Domine, ne
sileas a me — " 0 Lord, be Thou not silent to me."(f) The
Spirit of Truth will bring to your minfHf) within, every
thing that Jesus Christ teaches you without by the
Gospel. This is not an extraordinary inspiration which
might expose you to delusion ; it but inspires you with
the virtues of your state of life, and the means of dying
to yourself that you may live to God : it is an interior
voice which instructs us according to our needs on
every occasion.
God is the true Friend, Who gives us always the
advice and consolation that are necessary for us. We
only fail in our duty to Him by resisting Him : there
fore, it is most important to accustom ourselves to
listen for His voice, to make ourselves keep silence
interiorly, to listen with the ear of our heart, and to
lose nothing of what God says to us.
We understand well enough what it is to keep
silence without, and to put a stop to the noise of words
pronounced by our mouth ; but we do not know what
this silence of the soul is. It consists in imposing
silence upon our vain, restless, and volatile imagina
tion ; it even consists in imposing silence upon our
mind, which is filled with human wisdom, and in
suppressing a multitude of vain reflections which
agitate and dissipate the soul. We must confine our
selves in prayer to simple affections, and to a small
number of objects, with which we are to occupy
ourselves more through love than through great reason
ings. Strained application of the brain fatigues, dis
gusts, and exhausts ; the acquiescence of the will and
the union of the heart do not weary us in the same
way. The spirit of faith and love will never fail us, if
we do not forsake the source of it.
(») Ps. xxvii. 1. (<•) John xiv. 26.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 449
But, you may say, I am not the master of my
imagination ; it wanders, it gets excited, it troubles
me ; my mind even grows distracted, and draws me
away, in spite of myself, towards I know not how many
dangerous, or at least useless, objects. I am accustomed
to reason about things ; the curiosity of my mind rules
me. I fall into weariness, as soon as I constrain myself
to fight against this curiosity ; and this weariness is
no less a distraction than the curiosity which diverted
me. During these distractions, my prayer vanishes
away, and I pass the whole time of prayer in perceiving
that I am not praying at all.
I reply to you, sir, that it is with the heart that we
pray, and that a sincere and persevering will to pray
is a real prayer. Distractions which are entirely in
voluntary do not interrupt the direction of the will
towards God. In that case there always remains a
certain foundation of prayer, which the schools call
a virtual intention. Whenever we are conscious of our
distraction, we drop it, and return to God by taking up
again the subject of our prayer. Therefore, not only
does prayer remain, even during the time of distraction,
deep down in the depths of the soul, like a fire hidden
under ashes, in the form of an indistinct occupation
with God ; but also, we rekindle in ourselves, as soon
as we become conscious of our distraction, lively and
distinct affections upon the truths which we remember
at such moments. It is not then lost time. If you
will make a patient experience of this, you will see
that certain periods of prayer, passed in distraction and
weariness but with a good will, will nourish your heart
and strengthen you against all temptations.
A prayer of dryness and desolation, provided it is
continued with persevering fidelity, accustoms a soul
to the cross, hardens her against herself, humbles
DD

450 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
her, and exercises her in the dark way of pure faith.
If we always had a prayer of light, of unction, of
feeling and of fervour, we should spend our lives
in being fed with milk, instead of eating hard, dry
bread ; we should only seek for pleasure and sensible
sweetness, instead of seeking abnegation and death ;
we should be like those people whom Jesus Christ
reproached because they followed Him, not for the
sake of His doctrine, but for the sake of the loaves
which He had multiplied for them. Do not be disgusted
then with your prayer, although it may appear to you
to be dry and empty, and interrupted by distractions.
Be wearied in it patiently for the love of God, and go
on always without stopping ; you will not fail to get
over a great deal of ground in this way.
But do not attack distractions directly ; we only
distract ourselves the more, when we enter into a direct
contest with distraction itself. The shortest way is to
pay no attention to it, and to place ourselves again
quietly in the presence of God. The more you agitate
yourself, the more will you excite your imagination,
which will trouble you without ceasing. On the
contrary, the more you remain in peace, by returning,
with a simple thought, to the subject of your prayer,
so much the more will you approach to the perfect
contemplation of the things of God. Otherwise you
would pass all the time of your prayer in fighting
against the flies which are making a noise around
you : let them buzz in your ears as much as they like,
and accustom yourself to go on with your work as if
they were far away from you.
With regard to the subject of your prayer, take the
passages in the Gospels or the Imitation of Jesus Christ
which touch you the most. Read slowly ; and in pro
portion as any word moves you, do with it as we do

TO THE VIDAME d' AMIENS. 451

with a preserve, which we keep a long time in our
mouth and let it melt there. Let this truth flow by
degrees into your heart. Do not pass on to anything
else, until you feel that this truth has done its work
and finished its impression. In this way you will
insensibly pass a long quarter of an hour in prayer.
If you arrange your time in such a manner as to be
able to do this twice a day, it will be half an hour of
prayer at two different times.
You will do this easily, provided you do not wish
to do too much in it, or wish too much to see how your
work is getting on. Be very simple in your bearing
towards God throughout your prayer, and have the
confidence of a little child who tells Him all that
comes into his heart. It is only a question of opening
our hearts to God, of accustoming ourselves to Him,
and of feeding our love. When love is nourished, it
enlightens, reproves, encourages, and corrects.
With regard to your exterior occupations, you must
divide them between your duties and your amusements.
I count among your duties all the necessary courtesies
in your intercourse with the generals of the army and
the principal officers, with whom the manners of society
and proper attentions are necessary ; this is what you
can do at certain hours in public, when, belonging to
all the world through politeness, you are not taken up
with any person in particular.
Besides these hours sacrificed to the claims of
society, you must have a special intercourse with a
very small number of true friends, who think as you
do and who serve God, or who at least will do nothing
to estrange you from Him. You must choose them
of a birth and distinction that are suitable to your
position in the world.
Besides books of piety, you must also read histories,

452 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and other works which will cultivate your mind as
much for war as for such business affairs as you may
have to do with in your various appointments.
One of your chief occupations should be, I think,
to see all that goes on in the army, and to get infor
mation about it from all those who have the most skill
and experience in such matters. You must seek them
out, spare their weak points, and show them great
respect, that you may gain all necessary knowledge
from them.
As to reading out of pure curiosity, which leads to
nothing but to give pleasure to your intellect, I should
advise you to put a stop to it, as soon as ever you
find that you are becoming passionately attached to it.
We must give up drinking wine as soon as we feel it
is intoxicating us. In any case, I would only allow
such intellectual amusements — which we honour too
much when we call them studies — to a degree corres
ponding, at the outside, to the time and kind of
attention which we give to two or three games of chess
after dinner.
The principal thing is to cultivate in your heart the
germ of grace. Avoid all that can weaken it ; bring
together all that can feed it. Labour with all your
might in the beginning. Regnum Dei vim patitur, et
violenti rapiunt illud — " The Kingdom of Heaven suffer eth
violence; and the violent bear it away." (f) Occupy yourself
with the thought of the mercies of God and of His
patience on your behalf. An ignoras quoniam benignitas
Dei ad pcenitentiam te adducit ? — " Knowest thou not that the
benignity of God leadeth thee to penance?" (f) I pray to
Him every day for you, sir. He knows how devoted
I am to you for my whole life.
(") Matt. xi. 12. (') Rom. ii. 4.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 453

252.
(I- 74-)
He pities the Vidame for his interior trials, and exhorts
him to make a generous resolution.
Cambrai, March 28, 1708.
It is not astonishing, sir, that you should be afraid
of me. As long as you are not at peace with yourself,
you will fear your own reason and still more your
faith, which both condemn you ; far more cause,
therefore, have you to fear a man whom you imagine
to have but slight compassion for your weakness. But
indeed, I am not so cruel as you believe. I do pity
you ; and I wish I could comfort you. Why cannot
I suffer your trials, that so you might be delivered from
them ? There is nothing I would not do for you, except
flatter you by false kindness.
You suffer far more than you would suffer if only
you would throw yourself into the arms of God. You
would have only the same actions to do every &a.y, and
the love of God would sweeten them for you. The
more you listen to your self-indulgent habits and to
your taste for certain amusements, the more difficulties
and obstacles you place in your way. What are you
waiting for before coming to a decision? It is your
divided heart and your irresolution that are keeping
you back. If once you were determined, you would
see things quite differently and you would feel as you
have never yet felt. You are convinced of all you owe
to God. You have nothing to oppose to the truths of
religion except your passion for certain amusements,
and your coldness for virtue. Si veritatem dico vobis,
quart non creditis mihi ?—" If I say the truth to you, why

454 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
do you not believe Me ? " (f) Since Jesus Christ tells you
the truth for your salvation, why do you hesitate ?
Why do you not give yourself up to His grace and His
love ? Woe to the man who has two hearts ! Va
duplici corde.(f)
Oh, if you had but once tasted the consolation and
freedom that is to be found in having but one heart
and one will entirely united to that which is good, you
would regret every moment you have lost ! It is
already a great misery to have within ourselves the
revolt of the flesh against the spirit ; but at least the
spirit ought not to be divided. The spirit should be
at one with itself, to will only what God wills. If this
close oneness of will does not exist, we have no peace,
and a civil war is going on in our hearts.
You cannot put an end to your irresolution except
by prayer. Reason little, but pray much ; and to be
able to pray much, pray with a simplicity which will
make prayer easy to you.
I once wrote you a letter while you were with the
arm3', telling you how to occupy yourself in prayer,
and how to grow familiar with this exercise. You
cannot give yourself too great liberty of spirit in it,
that you may be able to persevere without too much
strain or constraint. Speak to God in your prayer as
to the best of your friends ; speak to Him of all that
you know of your faults, of all your troubles, and all
your needs. Consult with Him upon all your affairs,
and ask His advice upon all that requires a decision.
As to that which relates to a certain course of
conduct which you ought to take, and without which
you will make no progress, you must be severe with
yourself, and you must go on without looking back.
It is in this way that we really get off most cheaply in
(<•) John viii. 46. {') Eccli. ii. 14.

TO THE VIDAME D' AMIENS. 455
the end. Although you fear me as if I were some
fantastic monster, I am longing to embrace you as you
pass through here. Try to love a little, if you please,
sir, a friend who honours and loves you beyond measure.
253-
(I- 77-)
He thanks the Vidame for a small service, and exhorts
him to remain faithful to God.
Cambrai, May 28, 1708.
I am very much obliged to you, sir, for the kindness
with which you have done what I asked you to do.
My care for you now, in return, will be to pray to God
for you during the campaign that He may preserve
you in every way. Every day you will be exposed
to occasions of danger. I confess that such a situation
gives me great anxiety for those whom I honour and
love. My wish for them is, that they may have a pure
conscience, which will be the foundation for a humble
confidence in God, if they are called to appear before
Him. When we have done our duty for some time, we
have practical evidence that we are able to go on doing
it ; we are the same persons, and God never forsakes
those who are faithful to His grace. In doing what
was right we have not been unhappy,: why should we
fear we may become unhappy by continuing to do so ?
We have enjoyed the peace and pleasure of a good
conscience : why do we imagine we shall enjoy them
no longer ? You owe more to God than others do,
you, who have acquired so much useful knowledge,
and whose mind has been exercised with the most
serious reflections ; but I make no account of intellect

45^ SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and courage in the practice of virtue, unless we have
recourse to the grace of God with a sincere distrust
of ourselves. Honour me, if you please, sir, with a
continuation of your frindship, and look upon me as the
man in the whole world who is most devoted to 3'ou.
254-
(I- 79-)
He exhorts the Vidame to be firm hi his resolutions.
August 10, 1708.
For a long time, sir, I have been wishing to have
the honour of writing to you ; but the movements of
the troops, which have been occupying you for some
time past, have prevented me from doing so. Never
theless, I cannot alwa3'S resist my inclination and my
zeal. I was delighted to hear that you were in perfect
health after all that had happened. It only remains
for me to desire that N  * should not allow himself
to be carried away by his daily amusements, and that
he should be resolute in executing the plan he has
formed. Courage is necessary for all things ; I do not mean
a courage that shows itself in single efforts, and by fits
and starts ; but a patient and equable courage. The
less violence we do to ourselves, the less we become
capable of doing; on the contrary, the more we do
violence to ourselves, the more we grow accustomed
to overcome ourselves. The things which we give up
appear as they really are as soon as we have given
* We have every reason for believing that the letter N means
the Vidame himself, and that Fenelon wrote to him thus, in the
third person, for fear the letter might be intercepted.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 457
them up ; we only consider them of great consequence
as long as we have not tully made up our minds to
despise them.
You will perhaps tell me that N  thinks in these
matters exactly as you and I do ; but that he is weak,
full of taste for amusements, and that he is afraid of
the trouble of applying himself to the work of his
correction. I answer you, that N  must desire to
overcome his weakness. You will reply to me again :
How is he to overcome his weakness, he who is so
weak ? Where is the strength by which he can do so ?
I answer, that it is already a beginning of strength if
he acknowledges that he is weak. A sick man who
feels his weakness has at least a feeling that is a help to
him ; for he immediately takes a stick, asks for food
to strengthen him, and has recourse to some one to
support him when he wishes to get out of bed.
N  must seek in others for all that he feels to be
wanting in himself. You will render him a great service
if you often present this truth before his eyes. You
are the proper person to persuade him of it ; you who
have such a thorough experience in the matter. You
must rouse him often by little words, without fatiguing
him. From time to time urge him a little in a friendly
manner, to induce him to take certain necessary steps.
He will find true consolation if he follows your advice,
and you will be delighted to have helped him to come
to a decision. You know, sir, how devoted I am to
you.

458 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

255-
(i- 84.)
He exhorts the Vidame to give himself courageously
to God, and points out to him several means of
perseverance. Cambrai, September 17, 1708.
I took the liberty of sending to you, sir, by the safe
means of one of your principal servants, a letter for the
Due de Bourgogne. Allow me to enclose a second
letter to him in this one to yourself. I beg of you to
send it back to me again by my servant, if you have
any reason for not giving it to him, or if you cannot
find an opportunity of giving it to him privately. One
thing is quite certain, and that is, that even if my letter
were seen by all the world, it contains nothing that
could be blamed, either by the King or by the public ;
but it is necessary for it to be kept very secret. I
cannot do better than leave everything in your hands.
I pray God every day for you, in order that He
may help you against yourself, and may not permit
that all His graces, which He has so abundantly
poured into your heart, should turn to your condemna
tion. You know what is right ; you love it ; it is in
3'our heart ; it reproaches you there for all that you do,
and all that you leave undone. You despise the charm
that binds you ; you are ashamed of that which you
put in the place of God. You would have a terror of
dying as you are now living, in dissipation, in luke-
warmness, and in infidelity.
You would soon escape from this kind of bewitch
ment, if you would really take a little trouble to attain
to the habit of two things : one is, to give yourself to

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 459
meditation and spiritual reading, every morning and
evening, for a short quarter of an hour, and, during
the day, to occasional short retirement within yourself,
so as to find God there, and to acquire the habit of
renewing the remembrance of His presence during the
chief events of the day ; the other is, to avoid all that
dissipates you, all to which you are too passionately
attached and which deprives you of relish for the things
of God. You will find that it is only useless amuse
ments that cause this dissipation, and that all the
occupations which are in the order of Providence with
regard to your state of life, will never alienate you from
God, if you make a moderate use of them, for the love
of Him. Can you possibly give yourself to Him under better
conditions ? Take courage then, sir ! Hesitate no
longer, and abandon yourself to Him Who wishes to
take possession of you for your eternal happiness.
Even in this world you will receive a hundred-fold for
all you give up for His sake. God knows how unre
servedly devoted I am to you. 256,
(I. 87.)
He hopes to see the Vidame again soon, and to find him
at peace with himself.

Maubeuge, September 21, 1708.
Your campaign is now far advanced, sir ; its end is
approaching, and I see with pleasure that the time of
your passing through our frontier is also approaching.
What will be my joy if I find you at peace with your
self ! What peace and sweetness we have when we are
fully decided in our inmost heart upon essential things!

460 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Contradictions from without, however painful they may
be, can never be compared to those within. Nothing
is so hard as always to carry about within us our
condemnation ; and even then, it is a great happiness
if we do not stifle our conscience.
I love your sincerity ; it touches me very much. I
expect good consequences from it. But it is not
sufficient to be sincere against ourselves ; we must
carry out our own sentence upon ourselves, whatever it
may cost us, and act as reasonably as we speak.
You know, sir, with what zeal I am devoted to you
for the whole of my life. 257-
(i- 93.)
He exhorts the Vidame to distrust himself very much,
and to take the means he has already been advised to
take for his perseverance. Cambrai, October 15, 1708.
I am truly grieved, sir, at the painful state which
you describe to me as being your own just now; but
that which consoles me for it is to see how much you
feel it, and how much you fear the consequences of it.
I shall hope all things for you, as long as you fear all
things for yourself. This experience of your dissipation,
of your lukewarmness, of your relaxation, and of your
weakness, ought to inspire you with a great distrust of
your own heart.
We generally flatter ourselves that we have, at
least, an upright heart, that is sensible of its true
duties. But what duty can be compared to the duty of
not being ungrateful with regard to God ? We should
have a horror of a man who was unnatural enough to

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 461
be ungrateful to his father, to his benefactor, or to a
friend from whom he had received great favours. Now,
you have received from God your body, your soul, that
very self which is so dear to you, with life and all its
comforts : in short, you have nothing that you do not
hold from God alone. Never could any other obliga
tions be compared to those with which God has loaded
you. Nevertheless, it is He Whom you forget from
one hour to another ; it is to Him that you prefer the
most contemptible amusements ; it is He Who wearies
you ; it is His presence that you long to escape from ;
it is upon Him that you turn your back, to run after
men whom you despise, and who have no other merit
in your eyes, than that they help you to lose your time,
and flatter your imagination a little.
I groan, you say, to find myself in these unworthy
dispositions. It is my consolation, sir, to see that you
do groan. But in fact these are your dispositions ; and
they are as contemptible according to reason, as they
are depraved and dangerous according to faith. After
this continual experience of yourself, what can you
still hope for from your heart ? What can be more
contemptible than a taste so corrupt ? What can be
more disgraceful than such frivolity ? To what a degree
ought you not to distrust incessantly a heart that is so
spoiled, and so insensible to its true good !
You cannot make up your mind to love Him Who
is loveable above all things, and Who has loved you
from all eternity without forsaking you, even amidst
the most monstrous of 3'our infidelities. You cannot
renounce that which will ruin you, that world which
does not love you and will never love you, those
amusements which are so unworthy that you dare not
class them with serious things. This is what you have
no shame in putting in the place of God, and of all

462 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
His eternal blessings. What then can be more con
temptible than your heart ? Heart of clay, always
weighed down to the earth, always incapable of feeling
the graces of God !
You ask me for the means of escaping from this
kind of bewitchment ; but you know the means, and it
remains useless to you because you will not make use
of it. How can you expect that a means will be useful
to you, if you will not make use of it ? The best
remedy can do us no good, if we will not take it.
The means for which you ask is to read, to pray
every day at certain hours reserved for that purpose, to
frequent the sacraments, to fly from all the occasions of
dissipation which you can escape from without failing
in the real courtesies of your position ; to renew often
during the day your remembrance of the presence of
God ; to humble yourself before Him as soon as you
perceive your dissipation ; to return quietly to Him,
without ever being discouraged or impatient ; to bear
with yourself in your miseries and unworthiness without
flattering nor excusing yourself in anything ; to accustom
yourself to hope no more for anything either from your
reason or your courage, and to take refuge in God
alone, with a humble confidence ; to labour with His
assistance, which will never fail you, and which is even
now reproaching you so much in the depths of your
soul, by a voice of secret mercy.
I am longing to have the honour of seeing you, that
I may say more to you.
I am sending you a letter, which I beg of you to
have the kindness to give to the person to whom it is
addressed. No one can ever be more devoted to you,
sir, with more zeal and affection than I am, and shall
be until death.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 463

258.
(I. 100.)
He points out to the Vidame the means of putting an
end to his lukewarm and dissipated life.
Cambrai, April 4, 1709.
I feel all your kindness very much, sir, and your
last letter has really moved me to compassion. I carry
you in my heart every day at the altar, with much zeal
for all that concerns you. You must not be surprised
at finding yourself so lukewarm, so dissipated, and so
weak : this is a natural effect of the long habit of a
dissolute life. Your passions are strong ; you live in
the midst of the world, and of the most dangerous
temptations ; your faith is only half-nourished ; your
self-love acts with full liberty in everything that the
fear of God does not reproach you with as a gross
disorder. This is to live a worldly life, moderated in
some measure by the fear of God ; but it is not to
live by the love of God, put in the place of self-
love. It is only by giving ourselves up to God through
love, and by nourishing this love by frequent and
familiar prayer, that we can escape from this state of
fluctuation. When we will only practise as much
religion as is necessary to appease the remorse of our
conscience, and to give ourselves a hope that consoles
our heart, we go through life half-alive within. We are
like a convalescent sick person, who contents himself
with only taking sufficient nourishment to keep him
self from fainting away every hour, and to spare
himself great sufferings. He only drags on from day
to day, and has no strength.

464 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
You ask me what it is that you ought to do ? Here
it is :
First, you must look upon yourself as a man who
has made his choice, and does not wish to conceal it,
who is not ashamed of Jesus Christ, although he avoids
all affectation ; who is determined to be firmly fixed in
what is good, and to look back no more.
Secondly, you must read and pray, but it must be
prayer from the heart ; you must frequent the sacra
ments, and lay down for yourself a good rule of life,
following the advice of a man who is neither too strict
nor too lax, and who has a real experience of the ways
of God. Thirdly, you must try to find out, especially in
prayer and immediately after your Communions, what
God asks of you to make you die to your passions, to
secure you against yourself, to repress your inclinations,
and to cut short those amusements which either distract
3Tou from your exterior duties, or are opposed to a life
of recollection. You will see that if you abandon 3'our-
self to the spirit of grace, it will make you feel all that
is keeping you back in the way to which God calls you.
Fourthly, you must be neither astonished nor
discouraged at the sight of your faults. You must
bear with yourself patiently, without flattering yourself
or sparing correction. You must do for yourself as you
would for another person. As soon as you perceive
that you have failed, condemn yourself in your heart,
turn yourself to God to receive your penance from
Him ; then tell your fault with simplicity to the man
of God who has your confidence. Begin afresh to do
well, as if it were the first day of your conversion, and
do not be tired of always beginning over and over
again. Nothing touches the Heart of God so much
as this humble and patient courage.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 465
You must not be disgusted, although you may
experience many temptations within yourself, and may
even commit various faults. Power, says the Apostle,
is made perfect in infirmity. (a) It is less by sensible relish
and spiritual consolations, than by interior humiliation
and frequent recourse to God, that we advance towards
Him. This, sir, is what I pray Him to make you under
stand thoroughly. I love you tenderly ; I honour you
with all my heart. I am devoted to you in ever3' trial,
and without reserve, for the rest of my life. Love me,
but in God and for God, as I love you. My zeal for
you is boundless. A thousand respects to Madame la
Vidame. 259-
(i. 112.)
That nothing is more to be feared than grace which we
have despised. On the motives and means for begin
ning a life of fervour. Cambrai, December 19, 1709.
I thank God, sir, for the graces with which He
loads you ; but I fear that your own labour is not in
proportion to so much assistance. Nothing is so much
to be feared as the grace that we despise, and the
most severe judgment will be based on mercies that
have been received without fruit. This is the sin of
ingratitude and of resistance to the Holy Spirit.
God has preserved you in the midst of danger this
year, apparently to draw you to the love of Him by so
many secret inspirations. But I see the next campaign
approaching, and I cannot think of it without fearing
for you. In the name of God, do not spend in sloth
(") 2 Cor. xii. 9.
EE **

466 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and curiosity and idle amusement this winter, which
perhaps has been granted to you as a time of crisis
for your eternal salvation.
You are surrounded by a father and a mother who
both serve God with their whole hearts. You have
married a lady, who perhaps is not yet devout, but
who has much reason, goodness of heart and virtue,
and who has a sincere respect for true piety. Are you
not then too happy with regard to your external
surroundings ? Moreover, God never ceases to attract
you to Himself. He is not disgusted with your negli
gence ; He condescends to have with you the patience
which you ought to have with Him.
I fear lest this patience of God should spoil you.
Do not be satisfied with avoiding gross vices : pray,
unite your heart to God, accustom yourself to be alone
with Him in a friendship of love and confidence ; do all
your actions in His presence, and give up all those that
do not deserve to be offered to Him. This is a sign by
which 3'ou ought to decide all your cases of conscience.
Read a good book, and nourish yourself with it by
means of a simple and affectionate meditation, thus
applying to yourself the truths you have found therein.
Frequent the sacraments. Do not regulate your Com
munions by your life, but regulate your whole life by
your frequent Communions. For the rest, be cheerful,
accommodating, full of compassion for the faults of
others, and diligent in correcting your own, without
flattering yourself or getting impatient over this work
which must be begun over and over again every day.
Do honour to piety by showing that it can be made
amiable in every occupation of life.
Apply yourself to the duties of your position rather
than to making clocks. The first mechanism for you
is the regulation of your household, and the good state

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 467
of your accounts. Think of your creditors whom you
must neither leave in danger of losing all, if you were
to fail, nor keep waiting for your money without
necessity ; for keeping them waiting ruins them almost
as much as refusing to pay them.
Do not suffer yourself to be amused any longer by
the phantom of this world which is passing away. You
will pass away with it ; a little longer, and all this
will have disappeared for ever.
Oh ! how I could wish that the heart of Madame la
Vidame might also be powerfully touched by God.
She would help you, and you would support one
another. I liked her very much at the time of my first
journey to Chaulnes ; and on my second visit I was
inspired with real devotion for her. You ought at
least to ask her to try to be alone with God, heart to
heart, for half a quarter of an hour every morning
and the same time in the evening. This is not too
much if we wish to gain eternal life. It is only a
question of being alone with God as with a person
whom we love, without any constraint. She is good,
true, without vanity, without love of the world : why
should she not belong entirely to God ? If only you
could both be His, my dear sir ! I am devoted to you
without measure for ever. 260.
(I. 116.)
That we must not be astonished at our weakness, and
must distrust ourselves very much.
Cambrai, February 10, 1710.
I am only writing to you a few words, sir, to beg
of you not to be astonished at your weaknesses, nor

468 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
even at your ingratitude to God after so many graces
received from Him. You must see yourself in all your
ugliness, and have all the contempt for yourself that is
suitable ; but you must bear with yourself without
flattering yourself, and despair of your own heart to
hope no more except in God. Fear yourself. Feel
the treason of your heart, and your secret understanding
and communication with the enemy of your salvation.
Place all your resource in humility, in watchfulness,
and in prayer.
Do not let yourself go according to your inclinations;
your own weight would drag you down. Your body
seeks only for repose, comfort, and pleasure ; your
mind wishes for nothing but liberty, curiosity, and
amusement. Your mind, in its own way, is as sensual
as your body. Days pass like hours to you as soon as
you are occupied with something that pleases 3'ou.
You run the risk of losing the most precious time
which ought to be given either to the exercises of
religion, without which you would languish in dissipa
tion and a fatal lukewarmness, or to the duties of
your position in the world and of your appointment.
Distrust yourself then. Renovamini spiritu mentis vestrce
— "Be renewed in the spirit of your mind." (f) Keep your
heart always open to your good father. You know
his kindness and condescension.
I should be so glad to embrace you once more, but
indeed I cannot desire that the continuance of the war
should make you pass again through Cambrai. I
should not even wish for you to expose yourself again
as you did at Malplaquet. Permit me here, my very
dear sir, to express a thousand very respectful com
pliments to Madame la Vidame, whom I honour above
measure. I pray God with a full heart for you and
(<¦) Ephes. iv. 23.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 469
for her also. God knows how devoted I always am
to you both. 261.
(I. 118.)
That we must fear to weary the patience of God.
Showing the Vidame on what conditions he might
desire his advancement at Court.
Cambrai, February 23, 1710.
What shall I say to you, my very dear sir, if not
that, being a perfectly honest man as far as the world
is concerned, as regards God you are but an ungrateful
villain ? Would you load with benefits and marks of
affection a friend who was as cold, as negligent, and
.as fickle towards you as you are towards God ?
And 3'et, in spite of having so much occasion to
scold 3'ou, I love you with my whole heart ; but I desire
that you should not tire out the patience of God, and
that you should sacrifice your tastes for amusement
and vain curiosity rather than the duties of your
religion. Alas ! what will you sacrifice to God, if you
have not even the courage to give up things that are so
superfluous, for His sake ? This is like refusing Him
the cuttings of your nails and the ends of your hair.
With regard to your advancement at Court, I confine
myself to insisting upon two points. The first is, that
you shall not be guilty of either injustice or meanness
or false tricks, to ensure success, and that you shall
content yourself with asking for your successive pro
motions in Court rank, when your turn comes for them,
according to the rules, with modesty and dignity. The
¦second is, that in the depths of your heart you shall
-only desire this permitted advancement, in a calm

47° SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and moderate fashion that is entirely submissive to the
providence of God.
Ambition does not carry its own reproach with it,
as other gross and shameful passions do. It springs
up insensibly, it takes root, it grows apace, it extends
its branches under fine pretences, and we do not begin
to perceive it until it has poisoned our hearts. Beware
of ambition, therefore ; it kindles jealousy, it turns to
avarice in the most disinterested men, it spoils the
finest natural character, it extinguishes the spirit of
grace. Look at professional courtiers, and fear lest
you should resemble them. Watch and pray, that you
may not enter into temptation. What the world calls
a clever courtier, and a man who is wide-awake where
his own advantage is concerned, is a most odious man.
Merit without measure, ask with modesty, desire very
little. But also do not, for want of ambition, go and
shut yourself up in your study, and put machinery in
the place of the world and of God Himself.
Good-night, sir. Can you forgive me for saying so
much ? I love you too much to say less, even if you
are vexed with me for it.
A thousand respects to Madame la Vidame. I pray
to God for her with great hope ; but do not tell her so,
for perhaps she might do like some one else, who sent
me word that I was not to pray for him until he asked
me to do so, for fear I might obtain his conversion
before he wished to be converted. She is good and
noble ; we must win her by degrees, by confidence and
edification, without hurrying her.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 471

262.
(I- 133)
Upon the way he should conduct himself in prayer, and
upon the use of lawful amusements.
Cambrai, September 13, 1710.
I am delighted, sir, to know you are at Chaulnes,
although such a step takes away all hope of our meeting
at Cambrai. I confess that you are infinitely better in
your enchanted castle, but I think you will be in a bad
case everywhere if you will write, and dictate, and
excite your brain and 3'our body, and keep awake till
all hours, as you often do. If Madame la Vidame
comes near our frontier, I have a great wish to have
the honour of seeing her ; but I do not wish to be
indiscreet, and limit myself to your decision.
With regard to your exercises of piety, I see only
two things for you : one is, that you must suffer peace
fully weariness, dryness, and distraction, when God
sends them ; then they will do you more good than
all illuminations, delights, and feelings of fervour. The
other thing is, that you must never bring this kind of
distraction upon yourself, through your own infidelity.
You must allow yourself a few amusements to
unbend your mind ; but you must give them to yourself
out of pure kindness when you feel the need of them,
just as you would make a little child play. You require
amusement without passion; it is passion only that
dissipates us, dries us up, and indisposes us for the
presence of God. Take your business affairs quietly,
have a well-arranged comprehension of them without
drowning yourself in details, and be brief in your precise
and positive decision upon each article.

472 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Reserve to yourself some time to be alone with God.
Remain there in the simplest, the freest, and the most
familiar intercourse. Make of all things matter for con
versation with Him ; speak to Him of all according to
your heart's depths, and consult Him upon everything ;
•silence your desires, your tastes, your aversions, your
prejudices, your habits. And in this silence of your
whole self, listen to Him Who is the Word and the
Truth : Audiam quid loquatur in me Dominus — " I will
hear what the Lord will speak in me. (a) You will find that
a quarter of an hour will be easily filled up with such
an occupation. Do not seek for more than is necessary
in prayer. If you did nothing but weary yourself with
•God, for the love of Him, and let drop your dis
tractions, as soon as you perceived them, without being
disgusted at their importunity, you would have done a
great deal.
You must have great patience with yourself. Be
cheerful without giving yourself up passionately to your
iinclinations. You must be kind to 3'ourself without
flattering yourself, as you would be kind without flattery
to a good friend whom you were afraid of spoiling. True
charity puts everything in its proper order, and ourselves
as well as others. Have no sadness and no thoughtless
merriment, no constraint, no haughtiness, no sloth.
Now that you are alone, at liberty, and at rest,
accustom yourself to be often with God, remembering
His presence even in your external occupations. As
soon as you feel that you are becoming passionately
attached to any occupation that it is flattering your
self-love, and estranging you from God, break it off at
once ; 3Tou can take it up again, if necessary, when
passion enters into it no more.
Monsieur Du Fresne, the governor of our citadel,
(") Ps. lxxxiv. 9.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 473
has a nephew in the light cavalry,* whom he loves
very much. He is so afraid you may not be pleased
with him, and he would extremely like to know in
what his nephew fails to give you satisfaction, in order
that he may take pains to remedy it. He is a very
good man, full of virtue. I beg of you to tell me the
exact truth about this nephew.
Good-night, sir ; I have no words to express how
devoted I am to you for good. 263.
(I. 140.)
On the death of the Abbe de Langeron. An exhortation
to true piety.
Cambrai, November 15, 1710.
I have lost the greatest sweetness of my life and
the principal help which God had given me for the
service of the Church : judge of my grief, my dear sir.
But we must love the will of God. Nothing was more
true and more amiable than the virtue of the departed.
Never was grace more plainly to be seen than in his
death. If the passage of the troops did not keep me here,
I should come to Chaulnes to let you see my weakness
at this loss; but I must be here, to take certain
measures; and on your side, you must set out for
Paris, since the armies are separating.
I hope we shall see you return in the spring, or
rather, I fear it. I would rather that peace should
dispense you from passing the Somme, and that instead
I could pass it, and come for a few days to enjoy the
sweetest society I know. But, good God! how dear
* The Vidame was captain of the light cavalry.

474 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
our real friends cost us ! Life has no sweetness but
friendship, and friendship turns into inconsolable
sorrow. Let us seek the Friend Who does not die,
and in Whom we shall find again all the others.
I would give all I have in the world to see Madame
la Vidame belong entirely to God. She will never
have any true rest but in Him, and all the dissipation
she may enjoy, outside of that straight way of peace,
will only poison her heart. I ask one thing of her, and
that is, that she will be faithful in praying from her
heart. Let her often enter into herself that she may
find God there, and let her speak to Him without
reserve, with simple confidence and familiarity. Who
ever seeks Him in good faith, will find Him. I know
no one in whom I take a deeper interest than in her.
Indeed, I have a right to all the kindness she shows
me ; for my zeal and affection for her are very great.
I am not saying this from mere formal respect.
As for you, my dear sir, I beg of you to labour
courageously and patiently to overcome your natural
character and habits in all that is necessary that you
may practise true piety. Curtail all useless expenses ;
save a crown carefully, to pay your debts or to relieve
some poor creditors who suffer. Be careful of your
money as of your time. No amusements of curiosity.
Be brief in all your business arrangements. Decide at
once ; then pass on to something else ; leave no vacant
time between the two decisions. Be sociable ; cause
virtue to be honoured by the world. I tenderly embrace
my little Count. God knows how devoted I am to you.
Why do you tell me nothing about your health ? I
am anxious about it.

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 475

264.
(I- 144)
He points out to the Vidame several remedies against
tepidity and dissipation.
Cambrai, February 15, 171 1.
I confess, my very dear sir, that I find it very
difficult to give you advice as to how you are to
overcome your tepidity, your dissipation, and your
inclinations that are contrary to grace. The only
remedy is the one you neglect. I mean to say, prayer,
reading of a kind to nourish your soul, and fidelity in
at once withdrawing your will from all that weakens
the spirit of grace within you. If you had this fidelity,
you would do more in one day than you do now in
several months.
But you fear the trouble of it, and you are jealous
of a false liberty ; but this false liberty will never give
you any true peace of heart, either before God or
according to the world ; it will do you as much harm
with men as with God. We must lead ourselves to
execution, without listening to ourselves : it is in this
that you will find honour in the sight of men and
true consolation before God. But, to accomplish this
execution of self, which is very hard, you must
strengthen yourself interiorly by a frequent turning to
God, and you must avoid the occasions which might
revive your old tastes and habits.
Do not throw yourself, through an imaginary fidelity
to duty, into innumerable details of papers and docu
ments, which would leave you no time either for your
spiritual exercises, or for the courtesies of society, or
for useful reading. Relieve yourself by employing a

476 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
good secretar3' ; decide quickly and clearly ; go on
always to the next point; cut each affair short, and
reserve time to yourself for your other duties. If you
are firm in observing this conduct, in a spirit of
dependence upon grace in the presence of God, you
will soon see a rapid change ; and you will have more
ease and peace than you have ever felt before.
I am troubled about your health, which is very
precious to me. Take care of it, and do not excite
yourself b3r labour that you can easity spare yourself,
by employing a good secretary.
I should desire the return of spring, that I might
see you again in this country, if I did not fear it also,
on account of the perils of the campaign, which I regard
with uneasiness for 3'our sake, and for that of other
persons in whom I am interested. If God allows us
to be able to meet again at Chaulnes with Madame
la Vidame, I shall be charmed at it. I am devoted
to her with the greatest zeal ; I have no words to
express to you how devoted I am to you and to her.
265.
(I- I47-)
He exhorts the Vidame faithfully to follow the attraction
of grace. Cambrai, March 25, 1711.
I have no doubt whatever, sir, that the warnings
you believe 3'ou have received during the past two
years in the depths of your heart, come from God and
are very precious graces. The more we advance towards
God, the more God takes possession of us, to warn us,
to reprove and correct us, on every occasion. Indeed,
it is in the faithful and constant dependence upon this

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 477
warning of the spirit of grace, that our whole progress
in the interior life consists. The more God gives, the
more He asks in return : it is very just that He should
ask in proportion to that which He gives. We are
troubled as soon as we resist Him ; and it is a real
grace that God should make us feel this trouble, as
soon as we are wanting in our duty to Him : it is a
reproach of love, which the Beloved makes the soul
feel. Our interior attraction would be false and full of
delusion, if it inspired us with anything different from
the evangelical virtues, and if we imagined we had
different lights from those which faith teaches : but,
when this interior attraction flatters our self-love in
nothing, and never leads us into any indiscreet
singularity, so that it only tends to make us die to
our passions and inclinations, and to attach us to our
duties, then this attraction is but the impulse of grace
and the testimony of our own conscience. Our con
science becomes more sensitive and more jealous for
God against ourselves, in proportion as more and
more we listen to His voice speaking to us through
this our conscience, and as we increase in the love of
Him. The great point is to yield to this attraction.
Obedience, as Holy Scripture tells us, is better than
sacrifice.^) On the contrary, to resist the Holy Spirit
is the sin which can never be pardoned, either in this
world or the next.(') Do not resist then, my very dear
sir. The generation of the just are nothing but obedience
and love.(f)
Accustom yourself to turn familiarly to God, and
to ask His help, as soon as He asks you for a sacrifice
which you have not the courage to make. Your
sensitiveness about the least trifles you have to give
(«) i Kings xv. 22, 23. («) Matt. xii. 32. (') Eccli. iii. 1.

478 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
up, shows what great need you have that God should
tear them from you.
Oh, how happy we are to be able to make sacrifices
to God that are of great value in His eyes, although
in themselves they are but children's playthings !
Oh, what a good and easy penance for all the sins of
our lives ! We have no need to have recourse to hair-
shirts and instruments of penance, or to fly to the
desert ; we have only to allow God to take from us
the childish amusements of which He is depriving us.
Without exceeding the limits of the common life, and
without adding any other cross to the sufferings of our
state, we can incessantly die to ourselves, and the
sacrifices we can make to God are inexhaustible. If
we happen to refuse Him anything He asks of us,
through our infidelity, we have only to loosen our hold
upon it the moment we recognize our fault.
But to obtain this fidelity, we must watch and pray,
we must feed our hearts, and not feed our curiosity, or
our vanity, or our sloth. You are young, and of high
rank in the world ; but, in this time of war, there is but
a spider's web between you and death. Uno gradu ego
morsque dividimur — " There is but one step between me and
death." (f) God is urging you, He wishes to take entire
possession of you. How do you know how long you
have to live? Hasten to accomplish His work, by
disarranging all the plans of your self-love.
Do you intend to spend this summer with the army ?
Shall you stay at Chaulnes ? I am longing to have the
honour of seeing you, and Madame la Vidame also ; but
I must wait, and not make plans so long beforehand.
I am devoted to you both beyond measure.
(") I Kings xx. 3.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 479-

266.
(I. 170.)
Showing the Due de Chaulnes (formerly Vidame
d'Amiens) that many things, which we believe to
be innocent, are dangerous in practice.
Cambrai, January 4, 1712.
I am not astonished, sir, that the dissipation of the
world and the taste for pleasure should make your
heart dull for your exercises of piety ; but you must
see, by this experience, how often things that seem to
us to be innocent, are dangerous in practice. We give
ourselves up to curiosity, to the amusement of the
society of our relations and good friends, and to the
comforts of a free and easy life ; and then we say :
What harm am I doing ? Am I not keeping within
the bounds of a regular life, in accordance with my
position ? Is it not sufficient for me to pray to God at
stated times, to do some spiritual reading every day,
and to frequent the sacraments ?
Yes, undoubtedly, all that would be sufficient, if it
were well done ; but your indolent and dissipated life
prevents you from doing it well. It is necessary that
the whole detail of your daily occupations should
experience the effect of your pious exercises, and that
every occupation should be animated by a spirit drawn
from that source. On the contrary, it is your hours
of prayer and spiritual reading that are affected by
the sloth and dissipation which govern your exterior
occupations. You carry with you to your prayer an
imagination that is quite full of vain curiosities, a mind
that is absorbed by its ideas and plans, and a will that
is divided between its duty to God and an inclination

480 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
for all that flatters self-love. Is it to be wondered at,
then, that your prayer changes so easily into troublesome
distractions, dryness, disgust, and impatience for the
end ? That which ought to be 3'our support against
all temptations, is not supported. That which ought
to nourish your heart, wants nourishment itself; the
very source is dried up.
What remedy can we find for these things ? I only
know of two : one is to diminish the dissipation of the
day, the other is to increase your recollection during
the hours that you are free.
I should not wish you to curtail any of your duties
with regard to the public ; I have even thought some
times that you did not give enough time to visits of
courtesy, or to the duties of societ3" according to your
position. But you must cut into the quick with regard
to your hours of freedom. Allow yourself fewer curious
reasonings, fewer papers, fewer details and less analysis
about your affairs. You must cut matters short by a
few determined words, and learn one great art, which
is the art of allowing yourself to be relieved. You are
more distracted in your study^ by unnecessary toil and
trouble, than you would be by attending to the duties
of your position, and thus sacrificing your taste for
freedom from the shackles of society. It is only passion
that nourishes self-love and dissipates us. If you take
away from men the passion and with it the nourishment
of self-love, no occupation of duty will be able to
distract them ; they will do everything peacefully in
the presence of God ; all their exterior labours will be
turned into prayer. They will be like those hermits
of old, who worked with their hands in a state of
pra3'er that was almost continual.
With regard to your time for prayer and spiritual
reading, I should not wish to increase it at present ;

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 481
you have too many external occupations ; but I should
like you to add to these regular exercises, a frequent
recollection within yourself, that you may find God
there, while 3'ou are in a carriage, or in other places
where you are under no restraint. As for mortification,
content yourself with the mortification of an exact rule
of life, and with bearing your sufferings patiently.
This is all I can tell you in a hurried manner.
Present a thousand assurances of respectful affection
from me to Madame de Chaulnes. God knows, my good
and dear Duke, how unreservedly devoted I am to you.

267.
(I- I75-)
On abandonment to God. Anxiety of Fenelon about the
health of the Due de Chevreuse.
Cambrai, March 4, 1712.
I cannot find it in my heart to resist the will of God
which crushes us, my good and dear Duke. He knows
all I suffer, but indeed it is His hand that strikes us,
and we deserve it. We have only to detach ourselves
from the world and from self ; we have only to abandon
ourselves without reserve to the designs of God. We
nourish our self-love even with these very designs
when they flatter our desires ; but when they have
nothing that is not hard and destructive, our hypo
critical self-love, that disguised itself under the pretence
of devotion, rebels against the cross, and it says as
St. Peter said, when he heard of the coming Passion
of Jesus Christ : This shall not be unto Thee.f) Oh, my
dear Duke, let us die in real earnest !
(») Matt. xvi. 22.
FF

482 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
I have been very anxious about the health of the
Due de Chevreuse. See if you and the Duchess and
M. Soraci cannot find means to keep him a long
time for us still, by a careful regimen.
A thousand respects to Madame de Chaulnes.
Indeed, no one is more attached to her than I am
for the remainder of my life. I would give my life for
you both. Belong entirely to God, and love me a little
for His sake. I am devoted to you beyond measure
for ever. 268.
(I. 187.)
Containing some advice to the Duke for his perfection.
Cambrai, August 6, 1713.
I am profiting, my good and dear Duke, of a safe
opportunity to wake you up, if you are asleep. Have
the kindness to say a thousand things from me to the
Duchesse de Chevreuse, also a thousand congratulations
to our good Duchess on her happy confinement.
When Madame de Mezieres is in Paris, take care to
put her little sister in good hands, if possible ; she
deserves it very much.
Fly from the dangerous occasion of many papers ;
too much detail is the rock upon which you come to
grief; free yourself from it. Pray, read, and learn.
See people, and be seen by them ; fulfil your vocation :
mine is to torment you. Oh, how I love you, and how
I wish to see you fashioned by the hand of God, just as
He pleases !
Judge of my heart by my expressions : do not be
afraid to take them literally ; you spoiled me at Chaulnes.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 483
269.
(I. 188.)
. Advice to the Duke for the work of his perfection.
Cambrai, March 1, 1714.
Only two words, my very dear Duke, to wake you
up as you allow me to do. Curtail little details, that
you may get through everything quickfy, and may be
able to fulfil the more important duties of your position.
Are you doing this ? Are you taking your affairs
wholesale ? are you going straight at the root of the
tree, to bring things to an end ? Are you a little more
sociable ? Here are a great many questions. I pray
God to do all things in you, and that you may allow
Him to do so, whatever it may cost you.
A thousand respects to both the good Duchesses.
Do not forget that you have promised me the dear
children for the spring : I should be so glad to have
them. As for you, my very dear Duke, I will suffocate
you with my embraces as soon as I see you, if you do
not do all that God wishes. 270.
(I. 189.)
He asks the Duke for news of his family, and of his
own conduct. Cambrai, April 3, 17 14.
Only two words, my dear Duke, to ask how you all
are. Is your health good, yours, and the health of both
our dear Duchesses ? Have you put your affairs into
shape and set them going, so that they may be righted

484 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
without your being drowned in details ? Are you
faithful to all that God asks of you, according to your
position ?
I beg you to send me your children, who are mine
also, about the feast of Pentecost, when I shall have
returned from my visitations. They will not be the
slightest trouble to me ; I shall be charmed to have
them, and I will be their head tutor, and take pre
cedence of M. Gallet. You shall have no compliments
from me. 271.
(I. 190.)
A dvice to the Duke with regard to his private occupations,
and upon fidelity in following the attraction of grace.
Cambrai, June 6, 1714.
I am sending an account to the Duchesse de
Chaulnes, my good Duke, of everything concerning the
little people. You will be able to judge of my sincerity
about the children, by the unsparing frankness with
which I am about to discuss the father with himself.
I understand from your letter that you are always
drowned in your papers, and that your life is spent in
petty details. This is to fail in your vocation, to
neglect your chief duties, to forget the courtesies
belonging to your position, to lower your reputation
in the world and at Court, to put yourself out of
the reach of the King's favours of which you stand
in need, to expose yourself to the danger of being
without support in times of trouble, when intrigues
will be sure to ruin any man of position who is
without interest. Moreover, you exhaust your health
to no purpose.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 485
Why cannot you learn to give yourself a little
relief? to accustom yourself to leave the details to
inferior people? Why cannot you limit yourself to
doing those things which can only be done by you
alone, and which must always be very few ? Why do
you not compare the principal duties of your position
with the petty details, that you may occupy yourself
with that which is really important, in preference to
that which is much less so ? Why do you not pray to
obtain the courage and strength which are wanting
to you, that you may overcome your inclinations and
the habits of years ?
God will never fail you ; it is you who are wanting
in your duty to Him, and who will not accept the
help He is ready to give you. Offer Him your heart ;
open it to Him entirely ; wish to wish fidelity to every
impression of His grace. You feel His attraction ;
you see all the advances He makes towards you : and
yet you are none the less given over to your minute
trifles ; this is your infidelity and your resistance to
grace. I beg of you, my good and dear Duke, not
to read this letter without promising God to make a
real and speedy change. He will accomplish this work
within you, if you will allow Him to do as He pleases ;
but you must allow yourself to be broken, in every
sense of the word, and you must lose all your own
self's self- consistency in the hands of God, that He
may do as He will. He who wishes to keep his own
shape, is not yet pliable under the operation of the
interior spirit, which unmakes and remakes all things.
The Abbe de Beaumont tells me that Madame de
Chevreuse has been kind to him without stint or
measure. She lodged him, fed him, and honoured
him with a thousand attentions. He cannot cease
from expressing his gratitude, and he begs of me to

486 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
add mine also. But what can I say ? I am well accus
tomed to the kind heart that does so much good. May
God grant that she may be rewarded with a good stock
of health. The Abbe" de Beaumont made me very
anxious by telling me that it had been found necessary
to bleed her, and that she had not been able to go to
Bourbon. I hope that M. Gallet will bring us news
of her return to Bourbon, and that he will tell me at
once. I cannot express to you, my good Duke, how
deeply I am interested in her health and in yours.
Leave your dear children with me ; they are mine
also. They give me great pleasure ; and I shall try to
be of use to them. 272.
(I. 191.)
He speaks to the Duke of the characters and dispositions
of his children, and gives him advice for his own
guidance. Cambrai, July 23, 1714.
I am glad to make use of this opportunity, my dear
Duke, to speak freely to you of your young people.
The Comte de Montfort * is a good child, with
plenty of good sense, and an inclination for piety,
although he is somewhat frivolous, and not so diligent
at his studies as he might be on account of his love
for pleasure. God is leading him by His grace, and
* The Comte de Montfort was Paul d'Albert, grandson of the
Due de Chevreuse, and nephew of the Due de Chaulnes. He was
born January 5th, 1703, and during the following year his father
lost his life, while fighting for the King. The Comte de Montfort,
after following the profession of arms for some little time, became a
cleric in 1721, Bishop of Bayeux in 1729, Archbishop of Sens in
1753, and a Cardinal in 1756. He died on the 21st of January,
1788, being apparently the last survivor of the friends of Fenelon.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 487
will, I hope, give him a vocation for the priesthood.
If he were a little older, and I not so old, I should
make many plans for him : I love him very dearly.
The Vidame * is advanced for his years ; he also
has much good sense, his mind is clear, well-balanced
and determined. I find that he is succeeding well in
his efforts to conquer his quick temper. He is growing
more gentle ; he wishes to give satisfaction to those
around him ; he is conscious of his faults ; he acknow
ledges them faithfully and candidly ; he loves those
who reprove him kindly. His vehemence is great ;
but, considering his age, he makes great efforts to
overcome himself. He is courageous, and knows how
to act in any difficulty ; he is full of good feeling and
piety. He is a most winning child, and gives bright
hopes for his future. Every one here loves him, and
observes the real progress he is making.
The Comte de Piquigny is very intelligent and
fearless ; he speaks fluently and to the point ; but his
temper is violent, and he has not yet sufficient good
sense to enable him to control it. He is easily carried
away by it, and it is not so easy to bring him back
again to reason ; but, in spite of all this, there is a
solid foundation of intelligence and strength in his
character, from which we may expect great things.
He must be guided firmly, but gently, patiently and
consistently. It is impossible to avoid correcting him
sometimes ; otherwise he would be very unkind, even
to his brother, whom he wishes to strike and really to
hurt, when these fits of temper occur. It is also not
* The Vidame d'Amiens and the Comte de Piquigny, of whom
Fenelon is here speaking, were the two sons of the Due de
Chaulnes, and first cousins to the Comte de Montfort. The
Vidame was born on the 31st of July, 1705, and the Comte de
Piquigny in the month of September, 1707.

488 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
an easy matter to make him feel that he has been in
the wrong ; he is very defiant, and pretends to take the
correction quite coolty and contemptuously. But if we
can only accustom him by degrees to learn self-control,
this child will develope many admirable qualities. He
has a very strong natural character; it only requires
to be softened and moderated. As he grows older,
and his reasoning powers are strengthened, the force
of good example, of instruction, and authority, will
modify all this childish impetuosity ; at present, we
must do our best to keep it within bounds.
M. Gallet is most assiduous and affectionate in the
education of these children. I say to him whatever
appears to me right upon this subject, and he takes
it all very amiably. All things considered, you would
have much trouble in finding another man who had as
much assiduity, patience, zeal, and virtue, as M. Gallet.
He deserves to be respected, supported, and treated
with every consideration.
As for the flock of little people, I am delighted to
have them here. I love them all dearly ; they make
me very happy, they give me no trouble whatever.
Even when I am obliged to go away on my visitations,
they will be just as well here as at Chaulnes. Of course
the house has to go on as usual ; their staying here will
be very little additional expense. My absence cannot
be a long one ; I shall be charmed to find them here on
my return. If you think that I can be of any service
to them, make use of me, I beg of you, in all simplicity,
not merely as if I were a man who honours you per
fectly, but as if I were your other self, with whom you
need stand on no ceremony, and whom you can
command in all things. Your family is dearer to me
than my own.
I am anxious about your health. Do not exhaust

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 489
 _ — ^__ 
yourself in little details and superfluous exactitude.
True exactitude consists in never neglecting the really
great and important things. We make a mistake when
we allow ourselves to be behindhand with great things,
because we are carried away and entangled by thinking
too much of little things. If you are giving yourself
up to little things, from natural choice and inclination,
you are deceiving yourself strangely, and acting against
human wisdom. If you are doing this, through a false
idea of being faithful to God and fulfilling all your
duties, you will fail in your duty to God, through this
very determination of failing in nothing. God does not
wish for this false exactitude, by which we make
ourselves so scrupulous and superstitious about trifles,
that we are no longer able to perform that which is
essential. Do yourself the important things with which you
cannot trust any subordinate person, and do not trouble
yourself about less important matters which can easily
be executed by some one else, who will afterwards give
an account to you. The man who does not know how
to relieve himself, by allowing others to work for him,
does not know how to work himself. The most
important part of the work of a superior is to give to
each one his appointed task, to set everything going,
and calmly to superintend all these different labours.
If you ask God for wisdom, as Solomon did, He
will give it to you, so that you will be able to rule over
all He has entrusted to you. Abandon yourself to the
spirit of grace, that you may die to your own inclina
tions and habits ; die to this false exactitude about
details. God will set you free, and you will go straight
to your true end. You must act all day long with the
same spirit of peace and dependence upon grace in
which you made your morning prayer. Every hour

490 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
during the day you must be as a man who reads in a
book what the will of God is, that he may accomplish
it without anxiety or disquiet.
A good servant follows his master wherever his
master goes ; to the right or to the left, quickly or
slowly, he decends or ascends, he goes out, he comes
in: everything is a matter of indifference to him, pro
vided only that he always obeys. It is thus that we
should continually be, in the hands of God. It is
self-will alone that is constrained, embarrassed, and
discouraged. It is self-will that has no time for
anything, and that neglects important things through.
being absorbed by insignificant details. It is sufficient
for us to prefer that which is preferable, to begin with
that, not to allow ourselves to be distracted, to act
promptly and without hesitation, to take each matter
as a whole, to clear it of all that is superfluous, and to
allow the whole thing to be done imperfectly rather
than have it neglected altogether, in the vain hope of
doing it more perfectly.
Forgive me, my dear Duke, for this long discourse.
You know what is in my heart. Go to the root of the
matter of your health with the most skilful physicians
and surgeons, and consult with them as to the best
means of curing your malady ; be guided implicitly by
their decision, and act promptly. It seems to me that
I am often praying for you and with you. A thousand
assurances of my deep affection and reverence for the
Duchesse de Chevreuse. I cannot tell you with what
zeal and respect I am devoted to the Duchesse de
Chaulnes. As for yourself, my very good and very
dear Duke, I can only say to you these words : Cupio te
in visceribus Christi Jesu. (a)
(") Philip, i. 8.

TO THE VIDAME D' AMIENS. 49I

273-
(i. 196.)
He exhorts the Duke to distrust himself, and to fulfil
the duties of his position.
Cambrai, November 23, 1714.
I assure you, my good and dear Duke, that I feel
very much for the loss you have just suffered.* I
share sincerely in the grief which our good Duchess
must naturally feel on this occasion ; but your little
child is now an angel in the presence of God, he is
happy for evermore, and is delivered from all the
dangers of this miserable life.
What is best spoils what is good, says an Italian
proverb. Chaulnes has spoilt Cambrai for me. Regret
is turning to weariness, because I can no longer see the
pleasant company, can no longer walk in the spacious
park, and because those happy days are over for me. I
lay the blame on Cambrai for this November dark and
piercing cold. To speak seriously, I am really affected
by the life I have been leading with you ; perhaps it
was too easy and luxurious.
Do not be sad about yourself. Hope nothing from
your own weakness ; you have so often experienced
with shame how little you can rely upon it ; but trust
in the goodness of God, Who, when it pleases Him,
can take the very stones and make of them true children
of Abraham, living, as that holy Patriarch did, by pure
faith alone. This hope in God ought always to produce
two good effects : one is, a prayer that is simple, frequent,
and full of love, in which we ask, as helps against
ourselves and in all good faith, for humility, for detach-
* The Due de Chaulnes had just lost one of his sons, a year old.

4g2 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
ment, for the renunciation of our inclinations and our
vanity, for distrust of our love of ease, for the sacrifice
of our false liberty, for patience in bearing the cross, and
for the annihilation of self, so as to give contentment to
the spirit of grace. The other effect of this hope is, that
we make frequent efforts not to fall into relaxation, or
if we do so fall, to rise again quickly. We must watch
over ourselves against ourselves, we must make ourselves
render an account to ourselves as to how we have
employed our time, we must anticipate our falls and in
that way prevent them, and we must continually turn
to God and open our hearts to Him, listening in silence
to His voice speaking within us and telling us of all
the sacrifices which His love requires of us.
Your chief infidelity consists in your attachment to
your own inclinations and habits. You behave in your
affairs like certain men do on the road along which
they are walking — at every step they stop to talk. We
must go on without stopping, yet also without pre
cipitation. We need to have a sickle always in our
hand, that we may cut short whatever is superfluous in
words or occupations. Look at the letters of your lively
friend ; nothing can be shorter or more decisive. He
is a miser in words, his foot scarcely touches the ground.
You owe a duty to the public ; your rank and
position have decided that for you. It is your vocation,
and sins against the state of life in which God has
placed us are the most inexcusable. You bury your
talent ; the misapplied expenditure of energy each day
which is ruining you now, would be sufficient to pay all
your true debts to God and man. In the name of God,
let me hear as soon as possible of a real change. I
shall believe it when you write to me that the thing is
already done, and not before. What would I not give,
my good and dear Duke, to see you free from all

TO THE VIDAME D AMIENS. 4g
embarrassment, prompt and expeditious in action !
You must also be sociable, friendly with persons worthy
of your friendship, useful to society, full of discretion
and foresight, well-informed about public affairs, and
known to be so. You will say that I am asking too
much and am a harsh creditor : yes, I will go on
scolding you, through excess of love for you, until
you are in your right place, doing all that God wills.

274.
(I. 197- )
He gives the Duke some advice for the management of his
affairs, and for his own conduct.
Cambrai, December 5, 1714.
I often pray for you, my good and dear Duke, that
God may often arouse and reanimate you. The life
you are now living is one of pleasing yourself and
doing as you wish. If you arouse yourself from it
sufficiently to attend to your duties, you still please
yourself by little details and a false exactitude in these
very duties. Remember that minor duties become
mere distractions and amusements as soon as they are
the cause of our neglecting other more important
duties. Choose for your steward a man of good sense and
upright character. Although he may not be particularly
clever, he will relieve you of many cares. It is better
that the course of your affairs should be managed
somewhat roughly, provided nothing of real importance
is neglected, and that you yourself should find leisure
for other occupations. These occupations are to pray,
to read, to make acquaintance with various persons

4g4 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and to be known by them, to form friendships, to
obtain supporters, to show kindness to those who
deserve it, and to hold yourself in readiness to serve
your King and country when called upon, as becomes a
man of your rank and position. This is your true
vocation, which you will never fulfil by leading an
obscure life, in which you do nothing befitting your
station, even though you may be always occupied in
doing disagreeable things. Pardon my sarcasm ; you
deserve it, and it is my duty to say this to you. When
we love any one very much, we are not afraid of
offending him.
Ask the Duchesse de Chaulnes if all I am now
saying to you is not true. I was anxious about her,
and am delighted to hear she is in retirement and out
of the world's way. She greatly needs a long rest to
gain strength and get quite well.
Allow me now to send loving messages to our dear
little men. I am not writing to the Duchesse de
Chevreuse, on purpose to spare her the trouble of
answering me ; but I hope you will tell her of my
unceasing gratitude, devotion, and respect.
Choose for yourself those occupations which are
of the most consequence ; confine yourself to what is
really essential in these, and even in essentials cut
everything short. Make a sincere sacrifice of yourself
to God, that He may give you grace for this continual
and painful circumcision.
You may judge of my zeal for you by my shafts of
satire.

TO THE VIDAME D'AMIENS. 4g5
275-
(i. 200.)
He exhorts the Duke to be firm in his good resolutions.
Cambrai, December 28, 1714.*
Here is an opportunity, my good Duke, of giving
you news of myself, and asking for yours in return. I
was very much alarmed at hearing of the illness of the
Duchesse de Chevreuse ; but my feelings were much
relieved by being assured afterwards that it was nothing
serious. And the Duchesse de Chaulnes, how is she ?
I am anxious about her. And I am no less so about
yourself. Are you fatiguing yourself no longer with your
papers ? Are you doing with regard to the employment
of your time that which you well know God asks of
you, and which you have promised Him so many times
to do ? Would you not be ashamed if you had as often
broken your word to the meanest of men as you have
broken it to God ? You say that you love Him ; is it
thus that we love our friends, who are only miserable
creatures ? Would you thus deceive them incessantly,
by promises without effect ? Does God ask too much
of us when He asks of us the good faith and exactness
in keeping our word which a poor husbandman would
have a right to expect ? What is it that you prefer to
God ? A wearying and troublesome mass of details,
an occupation which fruitlessly wears out your health,
an employment of your time of which you would not
dare to give an account, a something, I know not what,
which makes your life obscure, and lowers your position
in the world. This is what you prefer to God. What
a frightful bewitchment !
* Fenelon died eight days later.

4g6 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Pray ; humble yourself, that you may break the
charm ; beg of God to loosen your bonds of inclination
and habit. Turn against yourself ; make constant and
persevering efforts ; distrust the treason of your natural
temperament, the tyranny of habit, and the fine pre
texts by which you are ingenious in deceiving yourself.
Listen to yourself in nothing ; begin a new life ; it will
be hard for 30U at first, but God will help you and you
will enjoy the fruit of it afterwards. Happy is the
man who trusts in God, and not in himself ! What
would I not give to see you a changed man !
I ask it of God, at this holy season, when we must
be born again with Jesus Christ. You can do this ;
you must do this ; you will have to answer for it to
the Master. Accustom yourself, by recollection, to
depend upon His Spirit. With what zeal am I devoted
to you !

PAUL DE SAINT-AIGNAN,
DUC DE BEAUVILLIERS,
And peer of France, first gentleman in waiting to the King,
head of the Council of Finance and Minister of State, was
born in the year 1648. Early in life he formed a close
friendship with Fenelon, in accordance with the advice of
M. Tronson, Superior-General of Saint-Sulpice, who was the
director of both. In 1689, he was appointed governor to
the Due de Bourgogne, and, as he was allowed to choose
coadjutors in this office, he selected Fenelon as tutor to the
young Prince, and frequently consulted his own brother-in-law,
the Due de Chevreuse. Never was there a more admirable
association of virtue and uprightness, and never did an
education succeed more perfectly than that of the Due de
Bourgogne. Even after Fenelon lost favour at Court, the
Due de Beauvilliers continued to correspond with him, but
it was necessarily in secret, both from a fear of compro
mising his friend still more, and to shield himself from being
involved in the obloquy which threatened all the friends of
Fenelon after the storm of July, 1698. The Due de Chevreuse
became the confidant and intermediary in this secret corre
spondence between the two friends, his own assured position
not obliging him to so much caution. The Due de Beauvilliers
died at Vaucresson, near Versailles, on the 31st of August,
1714, aged sixty-six.

GG

4g8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

276.
(I. 50.)
TO THE DUC DE BEAUVILLIERS.
A dvice to the Duke for the regulation of his spiritual life,
and for the guidance of the Due de Bourgogne.
Cambrai, November 4, 1703.
I have much pleasure, my good Duke, in profiting
by the opportunity which offers itself of sending this
letter to you by M. Denonville, to wish you health,
peace, joy, and fidelity to God, with freedom of heart
in the midst of all the difficulties of your position.
The more difficult 3'our affairs become, the more neces
sary it is for you to act with regard to them in a spirit
of faith. Never hesitate through human respect ; never adopt
any course of action through natural timidity, or
through a certain sudden feeling which may only arise
from the liveliness of your imagination ; but act
according to the inclination of your inmost heart,
considering God alone, after you have listened without
prejudice to the reasons given by men.
Take great care of your health, which is very
delicate, and which may very easily be affected. Not
only does the effort of much real work exhaust our
strength, but also a constant succession of dreary
and troublesome occupations insensibly wears us out.
Weariness and constraint imperceptibly undermine our
health. We need relaxation and innocent gaiety ; joy
pours a balm of life into our veins. A sorrowful spirit
drieth up the bones: the Holy Spirit Himself tells us
this.(a) (") Prov. xvii. 22.

TO THE DUC DE BEAUVILLIERS. 4gg
I am delighted at all I hear of Monseigneur (the
Due de Bourgogne). Try to act in such a manner that
those who are charmed with him in the army may find
him the same at Court. I know that there must be
inevitable differences ; but you must try to bring about
as great a resemblance as possible between these two
states of mind of his.
True virtue must come to him from within first,
and then spread to the exterior. It is the same with
grace for the soul as with food for the body. A man
who tried to feed his arms and legs by applying to
them externally the most nourishing substances, would
never fatten them at all ; everything must begin from
within, where all food must first be digested by the
stomach, and then become chyle, and blood, and at last
actual flesh. It is from the deepest interior that
nourishment is distributed to the whole exterior.
Prayer is, as the stomach is, the instrument for all
digestion. It is love which digests everything, which
makes everything its own, and incorporates with itself
all that it receives ; it is the hidden love of the soul
which nourishes the whole exterior for the practice of
virtue. As the stomach makes flesh and blood and
strength for the arms, the hands, the legs, and the feet,
so the love of God in prayer renews the spirit of life in
our whole conduct. It creates patience, gentleness,
humility, chastity, temperance, disinterestedness, sin
cerity, and in general as many other virtues as are
necessary to repair the daily exhaustion of our souls.
If you attempt to apply the virtues to the soul from
without, you create nothing but an external symmetry,
which will but constrain the soul within, — a superstitious
arrangement, an accumulation of legal and Judaical
dead works ; it may be a masterpiece outwardly, but
it has no life. It is a whitened sepulchre : the exterior

500 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
is a magnificent structure of marble, on which all the
virtues are sculptured in bas-relief; but within are
nothing but dead men's bones and all uncleanness.
The interior is lifeless ; there is nothing but a skeleton
there ; everything there is dried and withered up for
want of the dew and unction of the Holy Spirit.
It is of no use then to try and put love into our
souls by means of a multitude of exterior practices,
scrupulously piled one upon another ; but, on the
contrary, it is the interior principle of the love of God,
cultivated by prayer at certain hours and nourished
by a familiar remembrance of the presence of God
during the day, which will carry food from the centre
of the soul to all the exterior members, and make us
exercise on every occasion, with ease and simplicity,
every virtue that is suitable for that moment.
This, my good Duke, is what I wish with all my
heart that you may be able to inspire in our Prince,
who is so dear to God. Piety taken thus becomes
gentle, accommodating, simple, exact, and constant,
without ever being scrupulous or severe. Take care
of his health : he will be going against his clear duty
to God if he does not husband his strength.
I am always unreservedly devoted to you, as I ought
to be.

HENRIETTE-LOUISE COLBERT,
DUCHESSE DE BEAUVILLIERS,
And wife of the preceding, to whom she was married in 1671,
was the second daughter of the great Colbert, and sister to
the Duchesses de Chevreuse and de Mortemart. She was
the mother of thirteen children, and survived her husband
many years, dying on the 19th of September, 1733, after a
life consecrated entirely to works of charity and devotion.
She owed much of her virtue and amiable qualities to the
good advice of Fenelon, for whom she had always preserved
the greatest respect and veneration. 277-
(I- 195)
TO THE DUCHESSE DE BEAUVILLIERS.
Words of consolation on the death of her husband*
Cambrai, November 16, 1714.
The hope that you hold out to me, madam, is one
of the greatest consolations I can experience for the
whole remainder of my life. Meanwhile, I pray God
every day that He may console you.
There is a consolation which our heart desires not,
and we are right ; it is a vain consolation, and unworthy
of the spirit of grace. But there is another consolation
• The Due de Beauvilliers had died on the 31st of August
preceding.

502 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
which comes from God alone. He soothes desolated
nature ; He makes us feel that we have lost nothing,
and that we shall find again in Him all that we seem
to have lost ; He makes our lost friend present to us
by faith and love ; He shows us that we shall soon
follow those who have gone before us ; He dries our
tears with His own hand.
I hope, madam, that He Who has afflicted you by
so crushing a blow may moderate your grief; it is
only He Who can do so. Take care of your health ;
it must be very much affected : you have suffered
terribly. 278.
(I. 198.)
TO THE SAME.
Words of consolation on the death of her husband.
Cambrai, December 5, 1714.
I take advantage of this opportunity, madam, to
tell you how much I am thinking of you and of all
your sufferings. May God pour His consolation into
the depths of your wounded heart ! It is a terrible
wound; but the hand of the Comforter has an all-
powerful virtue to heal.
No, it is only your senses and your imagination that
have lost their object. He, whom we can no longer
see, is more than ever with us. We find him always
in our common Centre. He sees us there, he there
obtains for us true assistance. He there knows our
infirmities better than we do, he, who has no longer
any infirmities of his own, and he asks for us the
remedies that are necessary for our cure. I myself,

TO THE DUCHESSE DE BEAUVILLIERS. 503
who was deprived of the sight of him for so many
years, I speak to him now ; I open my heart to him ;
I feel that I find him in the presence of God ; and
although I have shed bitter tears for him, I cannot
believe that I have lost him. Oh, what a reality there
is in this close companionship !

279.
(I. 199)
TO THE SAME.
On the same subject.
Cambrai, December 28, 1714.
I beg of you, madam, to let me know how you are
through N  , whom I am now sending for news of
you. I am anxious about your health ; it has been put
to long and severe trials. Moreover, when the heart
suffers, the whole body suffers with it. I fear the
consultations about your affairs for you, and every
object that can awaken your grief.
You must enter into the designs of God and help
yourself, that you may give yourself consolation. We
shall soon find him again whom we have never really
lost. We are drawing nearer to him every day with
rapid steps* Yet a little longer and we shall weep
no more. It is we who are dying ; he whom we love
lives, and can never die. This is what we believe ; but
we believe it very imperfectly. If we really believed it,
we should be, with regard to those most dear to us, as
* It seems as if Fenelon, when he wrote these words, must have
been inspired by a supernatural presentiment. Three days after
this letter was written, he was seized by the illness of which he
died, January 7, 1715-

504 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Jesus Christ wished His disciples to be with regard
to Himself, when He had ascended into Heaven:
If you loved Me, He said, you woidd indeed be glad at My
glory.^) But we mourn for ourselves when we mourn
for those whom we regret.
We are right in grieving for persons who have led
a worldly life ; but as for a true friend of God, who has
been faithful and humble, we can think of nothing but
his happiness, and the graces which he will obtain for
the dear ones he has left behind. Suffer your grief to
be soothed therefore by the very hand of God that has
struck you. I am sure that our dear N  desires
your consolation, that he is asking it of God, and that
you will enter into his spirit, if you moderate your
.sadness. (<•) John xiv. 28.

MARIE-HENRIETTE DE BEAUVILLIERS,
DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART,
Was the daughter of Paul de Saint-Aignan, Due de Beau
villiers, and of Henriette-Louise, his wife. On the 20th of
December, 1703, she married her first cousin, Louis de
Rochechouart, Due de Mortemart.
The following letter of Fenelon to the young Duchess
shows that she shared in the confidence and veneration
-which was felt by all her family for the Archbishop of
Cambrai. She died on September 4, 1718.

280.
(I. 61.)
TO THE YOUNG DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART
(MARIE-HENRIETTE DE BEAUVILLIERS).
That we must distrust ourselves, and trust in God; that
we must co-operate earnestly with grace. Advice to
the Duchess on the means of preserving union in her
family. Cambrai, August 4, 1706.
I think, madam, that the principal thing for you
is never to despair of the goodness of God to you, and
to distrust only yourself. The more we despair of
ourselves and hope in God alone for the correction
of our faults, the more progress we make in that work
. of correction : but we must not expect God to help us,

506 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
unless we also labour earnestly on our parts. Grace
onby works effectually in us, in proportion as it makes
us work without intermission, in conjunction with it.
We must watch, do violence to ourselves, be afraid
of flattering ourselves, must listen to the most humiliat
ing advice with docility, and must not think we are
faithful to God, except in proportion to the sacrifices
we make every day, that we may die to ourselves in
the actual living of our lives.
Since you think you have said something to the
Due de Mortemart, which may have caused some
misunderstanding between him and his mother, it
is for you to bring about a reconciliation ; do so
gently and gradually. It is important that the son
should not be estranged from so good a mother, who
loves him tenderly and has his true interests so much
at heart. She may sometimes do too much or too
little, as may happen to the wisest people and to those
who have the best intentions ; but, in reality, it is very
rare to find a person who has so much sincere piety
and such clear ideas of all her duties. She may some
times show a little irritability towards you, with regard
to things she wishes you to do for your good ; but she
loves you. I have seen it so plainly that I can have no
doubts on the matter ; and the too much which perhaps
you think you feel, is only an excess of affection.
You must therefore labour incessant^, madam, to
unite the son to the mother, both for his own sake and
for yours; but you must do this without agitating
yourself. Even supposing you have committed some
considerable fault in this respect, as the letter you
have done me the honour to write to me indicates,
you must bear the interior humiliation of your fault
without being discouraged. It is sufficient for you to
avoid in future all that could involve you again in

TO THE DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART. 507
such difficulties, and also for you to neglect no means
of making atonement for the past.
I have seen one excellent thing in you, madam, and
that is an openness of heart towards your mother-in-
law.* Tell her everything. Go on]doing'so, whatever
it may cost you : you know by experience the use she
will make of it. God will bless your uprightness and
simplicity. You see how many graces He gives you,
in spite of your infidelity in not correcting yourself.
Do you wish to abuse His patience by using it against
Him, and do you think you can despise His mercy
with impunity ? It is not sufficient to say everything ;
you must say it at once, be sincere from the beginning,
and not wait until God forces from you that which you
would like to be able to refuse Him.
Oh, what a joy it would be for me to hear that
God had set your heart free, that He had taught you
to despise your imagination, that He had accustomed
you to labour continually in all your duties, and to
emancipate yourself from indolence ! Then you would
have as much liberty and peace as you now have
trouble, discouragement, and uncertainty.
You may judge of my devotion to you, madam, by
the freedom with which I speak to you.
* Marie-Anne Colbert, Duchesse de Mortemart, the sister of
the Duchesses de Beauvilliers and de Chevreuse.

JEAN-BAPTISTE COLBERT,
MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI,
Was the eldest son of the great Colbert, and brother to
the three Duchesses de Beauvilliers, de Chevreuse, and de
Mortemart. He was born in 1651, and was trained to State
affairs from his early years by his father, who afterwards
obtained for him the reversion of the post of Secretary of
State. His talents and activity in upholding the honour of
the French navy, which was the creation of his father, gave
hopes that he would prove a worthy successor of that great
man ; but his brilliant career was cut short by a premature
death. He died on the 3rd of November, 1690, at the early
age of thirty-nine. In spite of his numerous duties, and his
natural taste for pleasure, he did not altogether neglect his
religion, and towards the end of his life, he engaged in
correspondence with M. Tronson, Superior- General of Saint-
Sulpice, and also with Fenelon, and by them was helped to
practise all the duties of a truly Christian life. The letters
which follow were written to him by Fenelon, during his
mission to Saintonge and afterwards, to encourage and
strengthen him during the last year of his life.
LETTERS TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI.
28l.
(I. 6.)
That we must avoid a division of our heart between God
and the world. On the means of obtaining a perfect
conversion. [1690.]
I thank God, sir, for the fear with which He has
inspired you, of ceasing to do evil without at the same

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 509
time going on to do well. This fear, which He Himself
has imprinted upon your heart, will be the solid founda
tion on which His work in your soul shall rest. Besides
the certainty that, with your temperament, you can
never for any length of time persevere in your warfare
against evil, except by a fervent practice of all that
is good, you would also be the most unhappy of men,
if you were to engage in this conflict with your
passions, without at the same time uniting yourself
closely to God. Your heart would be incessantly torn
asunder ; you would have neither the intoxication of
earthly pleasures nor the consolation of the Holy Spirit.
Your heart must of necessity be filled either with
God or with the world. If it is still filled with the
world, the world will draw you back again, insensibly
and perhaps suddenly, into the depths of the abyss.
If it is filled with God, He will never suffer you to
remain in a state of cowardly lukewarmness : your
conscience will urge you on to better things ; you
will taste the sweetness of recollection ; the things
which once charmed you will appear to you vain and
frivolous ; you will feel within yourself a constraining
authority to which by degrees all else must yield ; in
one word, you will not half give yourself to God, you
will be all His. If you try to divide your heart by a
false temporizing, God, Who is a jealous God, will
reject with horror such an offensive division, which
would attempt to put Him on an equality with His
own creature, that is to say, with nothingness itself.
Nothing remains for you then but either to fall
back into the abyss of iniquity, in horrible despair,
delivered over to yourself, to a deluded world, and
to all your tyrannical desires ; or to abandon your
self unreservedly to the Father of mercies and the God
of all consolation, Who holds out His arms to you in

5IO SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
spite of your ingratitude. We cannot make bargains
with God ; He is the Master. We must give ourselves
to Him and be silent, we must suffer ourselves to be
led, and not even try to see where we are going.
Abraham left his own country, and travelled to a
strange land, without knowing whither he went. Let
us imitate his courage and his faith. As long as we
attempt to regulate and limit our conversion, we are
walking under our own guidance : when we give our
selves to God without making any conditions, we
constitute God, so to speak, the bail and security for
all that we undertake. Return to Him, sir, like the
prodigal son : form in the depth of your heart that cry
so full of confidence : Father, I have sinned against Heaven
and before Thee ! (f)
It is not possible for you to escape from the
struggles of heart which your passions will cause you
to experience until they are thoroughly stifled. You
will feel all those earthly pleasures coming in crowds,
to draw you away from your good resolutions, as
St. Augustine tells us of himself; you will hear them
saying to you in a whisper : " What then ? have you
bidden us an eternal farewell ? will you see us no
longer ? shall your whole life be henceforth nothing but
constraint and sadness?" This is what they will say
to you. But God also will speak in His turn : He will
make you feel the joy of a purified conscience, the peace
of a soul which He has reconciled to Himself, and the
true liberty of His own children. You will no longer
have those mad pleasures which intoxicate the soul,
and make it forget its misery by stupefying it ; but you
will have, instead, that interior peace and that consoling
testimony of a good conscience which will support you
in all difficulties; you will be at peace with yourself;
(") Luke xv. 18.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 5II
you will no longer fear to enter into yourself: on
the contrary, it is there that you will find true peace ;
you will have nothing to fear or to conceal ; you will
love all that you do, because you will love the will
of God which inspires 3'ou to do it ; 3'ou will no
longer desire any of those things which God does
not give you ; you will carry in your heart an inex
haustible source of consolation and hope against all
the ills of life. Thus, these evils will be changed into
good things for you ; illnesses, contradictions, difficult
labours, even death itself, all will become good: for all
things work together unto good, as St. Paul tells us, to them
that love God.(f)
Ah, why should you not love Him, since He loves
you so much ? Have you ever found anything sweeter
to love, or more worthy of your love ? This phantom
world is vanishing away ; this vain pageant will soon
disappear. The hour is coming, it is approaching,
behold it coming towards us, already we are touching
it ; the charm is broken, our eyes are opening ; we see
nothing but the eternal truth. Then God will judge
His creature who was ungrateful to Him. All those
fools who once passed for wise men, will be convicted
of their folly : but shall we, who have known and tasted
the gift of God, shall we allow ourselves to be swallowed
up in this condemnation ? But you, sir, will you shut
the door of your heart, or will you open it only half
way, when God comes Himself, so patiently, to ask
you to give it entirely ?
Jeremias, speaking on the part of God, says : (e)
What husband would not have a horror of his wife,
if he saw her unfaithful to himself, and running
immodestly after strange lovers? Do you think, he
says, that the husband would take her back again, if
(<*) Rom. viii. 28. (') Jerem. iii. 1—4.

512 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
she returned to him after so many abominations ? And
I, he continues, O My spouse, O daughter of Israel,
although thou hast forsaken thy covenant, although
thou hast shamefully broken thy marriage vow, although
thou hast gone all ways after strange lovers ; never
theless, return to Me, return, O My spouse, and I will
receive thee. This, sir, is what a jealous God does.
His patience and His goodness are even greater than
His jealousy. But if He is thus waiting for you with
love, He wishes that your return should be full of
fidelity and courage.
Let us now enter upon the consideration, in detail,
of those dispositions and rules of which you stand in
need. With regard to the dispositions that are necessary
for you, the principal one of all is the love of God. I
am not speaking now of a sensible and emotional love ;
you cannot obtain that for yourself by your own efforts,
and such a love is not necessary ; God gives it more
often to those who are weak, to encourage them in His
service by the pleasure they find therein, than to the
strong souls whom He wishes to lead by a way of purer
faith. Often we are even deceived by this sensible love;
we become attached to the pleasure we feel in loving,
instead of being attached to God alone ; and when
the pleasure grows less, and this piety of taste and
imagination vanishes away, then we are discouraged,
we think all is lost, and then we begin to draw back.
If God gives you this sensible relish to help you in
the commencement of your return to Him, you must
receive it ; for He knows better that we do what is
necessary for us. But if He does not give it to you,
do not be troubled about it ; for the true and pure love
of God often consists in a dry will, that is determined
to sacrifice all things to Him : in that case, we serve

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 513
Him with far greater purity, because we serve Him
without any pleasure or assistance but the renunciation
of our own will. Jesus Christ in the Garden was
sorrowful even unto death, and His horror of the
chalice which Plis Father was presenting to Him cost
Him a sweat of Blood. What a consolation for us is
such an example ! How far was He from feeling any
sensible pleasure in the will of His Father ! Never
theless He says : But yet not My will, but Thine be done. (a)
Let us say as He did in our times of desolation, and
let us remain at peace in the hands of God.
Remember, sir, that you do not deserve to experi
ence the joys of those pure souls who have always
followed in the footsteps of the Spouse. Remember
how long you have kept Him waiting at the door of
your heart. It is just that in His turn He also should
make you wait a little.
The distractions which you may have in prayer
must not astonish you, they are inevitable after so
much agitation and so many voluntary dissipations ;
but they will do you no harm, if you bear them
patiently. The only danger I fear for you from them
is, lest they should discourage you. What does it
matter if our imagination wanders, and even if our
understanding gives way to a thousand foolish thoughts,
provided our will stands firm, and provided we return
quietly to God without getting uneasy, whenever we
become conscious of our distraction ? If only you will
persevere in this gentle and simple course of conduct,
your very distractions will turn to your advantage,
and in the end you will experience how useful they
have been to you, although God may hide it from you
at present. Prayer should be simple, very much from the heart,
(") Luke xxii. 42.
HH

514 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
very little from the head : it should consist of simple,
loving, and short reflections, of artless colloquies with
God, without trying to excite ourselves to make a great
many acts for which we have no inclination. It is
sufficient if we make the principal acts, those of faith,
hope, love, and contrition, in the beginning of our
prayer, but all must be done freely, and as the heart
prompts us to do it. God is jealous of the purity of
our intention ; but in proportion as He is jealous of
this purity of intention, so is He easily satisfied and
condescending with regard to all the rest. Never was
a friend more tender and easily pleased than He is.
As to the subject of 3'our prayer, you can take it from
any of those passages in the Psalms which touch you
most. Whenever you perceive that your attention is
wandering, take up the book again, and do not distress
yourself. Uneasiness on account of distractions is the
most dangerous of distractions.
Nothing is better for you than to distrust yourself
entirely. This is the fruit which you must draw from
your falls. It is for your humiliation that God has
allowed them to be so frequent, so deep, and of such
long duration; and after all the graces you formerly
received, you had more need than any one else to fall
from so great a height, because it was necessary to
bring down your arrogance which is extreme, and to
crush your pride, which otherwise would always be
lifting up its head. But your mistrust of yourself must
not diminish your confidence in God. Your mistrust
of yourself must make you fly from the occasious which
might bring about a relapse for you. It must induce
you to lead a kind of life that is on guard against
yourself and against your friends ; but it must never
make 3'ou doubt of the assistance of God. If He
sought after you and pursued you, when you were

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 515
flying from Him, and stopping your ears for fear you
might hear His voice calling to you, how much more
will He now lead you step by step, now that you are
returning to Him ! Fear nothing, sir ; all the angels
in Heaven are rejoicing over your return.
Take great care, therefore, not to be uneasy about
your assurance of the reality of your conversion, and
do not be too anxious to conceal it, for fear it should
become known and perhaps afterwards become a cause
for scandal. This would infallibly happen, if you were
to rely upon your own strength. Your courage, great
as it is, would be the broken reed of which Holy
Scripture speaks ; instead of supporting you, it would
pierce your hand. But abandon yourself to God, do
nothing to attract attention ; but at the same time,
never be ashamed of the Gospel — such a false shame
would prevent God from blessing your return ; I should
fear such a shame a hundred times more than your
weakness. Do not fear the dishonour which would
fall upon you, if you were again to forsake God, for in
such a case you would indeed deserve it, and such
dishonour would be the smallest part of the misery of
your condition. Do nothing, therefore, that might
appear extreme, but also do not be too anxious to
conceal the good which you wish to do. Leave the
care of arranging all things to God, and content yourself
with leading an ordinary life.
You must, from the very first day, give up every
thing that could be a cause of scandal. Do not expect
to be able to conceal your conversion for any length
of time from your servants and your friends, when they
see that you have removed all scandals and are at
the same time performing those actions from which a
Christian cannot be dispensed. You must hear Mass
recollectedly, you must speak with reserve and modera-

516 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
tion. All these things will at once cause the conclusion
to be drawn that you are at least returning to a more
regular life, and you may be quite sure that public
rumour, which is always extreme in its opinions, will
also conclude that you are returning to a life of devotion.
But what does it matter ? Let people say whatever
they please, and content yourself with only manifesting
what you cannot conceal. God will carry your burden
for you, and His angel will take care that you do not
even hurt your foot against the stones strewn in your
way. The principal thing for you is never to look back.
Cut off all the approaches by which anything that could
divert you from your purpose might be able to return
and rekindle an unholy fire. The least thing might
be able to reopen all your wounds, and inflame them.
Let no servant or friend dare to give you letters, or
read to you anything from those persons. ... It is
easy for you, with the authority you possess, to put
a stop to all that sort of thing ; you have only to will
it ; and you must will it, as you will your own salvation,
because that can only be obtained in this way.
The things which trouble me most about you are
not your irritability with your servants, or your anger
with persons who cross you ; I fear most for you
your natural pride and your passionate inclination for
pleasure. I fear your pride, because you cannot belong
to God and be filled with His Spirit, except in pro
portion as you empty yourself of your own spirit and
sincerely despise yourself. God is jealous of His own
glory, and the gloty of men irritates Him. God resisteth
the proud, and giveth grace to the humble, f) The Scripture
tells us again that God hath made the roots of proud nations
to wither, (f) You see that He dries them up, that is to
(") James iv. 6. (') Eccli. x. 18.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 517
say, He destroys them to the very roots. If you are
not humble before God, if you do not renounce worldly
glory, He will never bless you.
As to your inclination for pleasure, it would make
me tremble for you, if I were not well persuaded that
God has only begun His work in 3'ou to bring it to a
conclusion. You are surrounded by people leading
lives of pleasure ; everything in your house breathes
of nothing but amusement and worldly joy. All the
friends to whom your confidence is given are full only
of sensual maxims, and have the right of speaking to
you according to the bent of their corrupted hearts.
You must of necessity change the tone of your inter
course with them. Ask God, therefore, to give you a
face of brass against iniquity ; ask of Him that mouth
speaking strong things and that wisdom which He 'has
promised to His own, to make them victorious over
worldly wisdom. It is not a question of preaching or
casting down your eyes, but it is a question of keeping
silence, of turning the conversation in another direction,
of showing no sympathy with evil, of never laughing
at a licentious jest or an impure conversation. No
matter what people think about you, in these matters
you must carry things with a high hand ; in this you
must make use of the authority of your position and
of your natural talents. But remember, sir, that if you
once suffer yourself to be prevailed upon, you are lost.
If you try to make a false compromise between God
and the world, you will satisfy neither God nor the
world. God will reject you, the world will reinsnare
you, and will laugh to see you caught again in its
snares. The thing that will preserve you from this
misfortune will be an upright course of conduct that is
full of confidence in God, and of renunciation of all
human considerations.

5l8 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
With regard to the change of your heart, here is the
essential thing which I ask of you in the name of God :
it is that you may be firmly resolved on two points.
The first is, that you make up your mind to receive
without hesitation any lights which God may perhaps
give you later on, to lead you much farther than you
at first proposed to go ; for instance, make a promise
to God in good faith that — if you do not yet understand
all you owe to Him, either for the reparation of scandal
and injustice or for the right use of your wealth and
authority — you will never close your eyes to the light
He gives you, but that, on the contrary, you will
always be delighted to advance in the knowledge of
your duties.
The second point is, a firm and sincere resolution
of always following the light God may give you, what
ever it may cost you ; so that if afterwards He shows
you more duties to fulfil and more victories to be
gained over yourself, you will never resist the Holy
Spirit, but that, on the contrary, you will trample
every obstacle under foot, that you may never fail in
anything God asks of you. By means of these two
dispositions, I hope that you will walk upon unshake-
able foundations, and that we shall never have the pain
of seeing you stumble in the way of salvation.
I have still a few words to say to you with regard
to your exterior conduct, and the rule of piety which
you may lay down for yourself. Speak then, sir, to
Madame de Seignelai, as you have already resolved to
speak, and do so as soon as possible ; this proceeding
will be very pleasing to God, and will be a means' of
grace for your own conduct.
Your rule of devotion must not now be as it will
be later on when your health is perfectly restored.
Content yourself for the present with taking every

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 519
morning, when you feel better and have fewer visitors,
some passages of the Psalms which you may choose
according to your inclination ; occupy yourself with
them in the manner I have already marked out for
you in this letter, and spend in this occupation about
a quarter of an hour, if you are able to do so. If your
health does not allow you to do this at one stretch,
then do so by several shorter intervals during the day,
in those hours in which you feel less indisposed, and
more free from difficulties. Read also to yourself, or
let the Due de Chevreuse read to you, a chapter of
the Imitation every day. Do not fear to interrupt this
when you feel fatigued ; you can take it up again
afterwards. For the rest, what I think will suit you
best of all, is from time to time to raise up your
heart to God without any effort of mind, and with
perfect trust.
This time of illness is very favourable for you, for
it is a kind of compulsory retreat which shelters you
from worldly conversation, and surrounds you with the:
virtuous members of your family. A little Christian
conversation with the Due de Chevreuse will strengthen
you very much in your good purposes. You have need
of assistance in so painful a return to God. And this
very opening of your heart to a faithful friend will give
it great relief, and will enlarge it so that the things
of God may enter into it.
I pray Him incessantly, sir, that He may support
you by His all-powerful hand against the world and
against yourself. As you lie on your bed of weakness
and pain, you seem to me like Saul, overwhelmed and
prostrate on the ground at the gates of Damascus.
Jesus Christ, Whom you have forsaken and outraged,
says to you : Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me ? It is
hard for thee to kick against the goad. Do you say to Him :

520 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?(f) And He will
make of you a vessel of election to bear His name.
282.
(I- 7-)
On the obligation of advancing from day to day in the
knowledge of our duties and of the Divine law.
Paris, July 2 [1690].
It seems to me, sir, that the most important of all
your questions is the one you ask me upon your
ignorance of your duties. You have a great wish that
you might be allowed to content yourself with what
you have hitherto known with regard to them, without
taking the trouble to arrive at a more perfect knowledge
of them, but I must confess to you that I cannot enter
into your feelings in this matter.
It is not that I approve of those excessive and
indiscreet severities which require a man to tremble at
every moment, and on account of every action, for fear
of doing wrong. We have a good Master, Who asks
more for our confidence than for anything else. As a
father hath compassion on his children, so hath the Lord com
passion on them that fear Him; for He knoweth our frame,
He remembereth that we are dust. (e) It is thus that God
Himself speaks to us in one of the psalms. God forbid,
therefore, sir, that I should wish to force you into a
devotion of sheer timidity and constraint in which
people believe that -God forgives nothing, and that He
only tries to surprise us in the slightest faults, that
He may put us to shame ! No, no, I fear nothing more
than such a course of conduct as this ; and, far
from wishing to drive you into it, I am thinking only of
(") Acts ix. 4 — 6. (e) Ps. cii. 13, 14.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 521
directing your steps towards the way of pure love,
which is always free, simple, cheerful, courageous,
wherein the soul walks at large, animated by perfect
trust. Once more, I repeat, God is my witness that I
believe the directors who lead souls by that other way
of constraint and trouble are grossly deceived, and run
the risk of spoiling everything.
But let us also see in good faith what we justly owe
to God. Perhaps as yet we have never thought
seriously enough on this matter. Do we not owe as
much to God as one friend owes to another, or as a
servant owes to his master?
If you had a friend to whom you had confided all
your interests, who was under great obligations to you,
and whom you tenderly loved, would you like him to
be contented with understanding only a part of your
intentions with regard to things he had promised to
do for you ? What would you think of him and of
his friendship, if he contented himself with a general
knowledge of your wishes and feared to know more of
them in detail ? Suppose a man who desired your
advantage were to come and say to him : " Will you
not send a message to your friend and ask him
to enlighten you more precisely with regard to the
matters he has committed to your charge ? Is it
not right that you should consult him personally, for
fear you may be deceived, and may not thoroughly
understand all he expects from you ? " Now, would
such a man deserve the name of friend, and could
you believe him to be in good faith if he were to
reply : "I am acting in accordance with what I
understand of the wishes of my friend ; what does
it matter to me to know more of his wishes ? I do
not wish to take too much upon myself; it is quite
sufficient for me to be guided by the imperfect know-

522 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
ledge I have of his interests, without seeking for a more
perfect knowledge. Such a research would only serve,
perhaps, to engage me to do things for him at great
inconvenience to myself; I do not wish to take so
much trouble about his affairs. I shall be very sorry
to offend him in any of his essential interests, but I
shall certainly not put myself out of the way to under
stand the means of never offending him in small
things, and even with regard to the most important
things, I do not wish to know his intentions better than
I know them at present, and I am resolved, rather than
consent to such an embarrassing explanation, to run
the risk of offending him even in matters of con
sequence." I think, sir, that such a friend would
appear to 3'ou very unworthy to bear the name of one,
that you would be mortally wounded by his ingratitude,
and would be ashamed of ever having trusted him ;
I am even quite certain that you would consider his
behaviour all the more atrocious because he would
have added bad faith to bad will. I would much rather,
you would say, that he had openly refused to serve me ;
but to offer me his services, and then to seek for pretexts
for not thoroughly understanding my interests, and to
be afraid of comprehending them too clearly lest he
might thereby be obliged to do too much for me : this
is what seems to me most corrupt and inexcusable.
This, sir, is what you would say of a friend who
owed you scarcely anything. What do you think, then,
that God will say of you when He judges you ; of you,
I say, who owe everything to Him ; what will He say
of you, if you are like that faithless friend who pretends
to shut his eyes for fear of seeing too clearly into the
interests of his friend, and yet who boasts of being a
really faithful friend ?
But let us come to a second comparison, that I

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 523
may succeed in making this truth clear and striking
to you. Supposing the King had confided a fortress, or an
army, or a negotiation to one of his subjects, would he
think it right for this subject to neglect to take proper
information with regard to the fortifications and the
strength of the place ; or again, for this general of an
army to content himself with a very slight knowledge
of the art of war ; or finally, for this ambassador to
refuse to go to the bottom of the matter with regard
to foreign affairs, or the means of making his negotiation
successful ? If the King were afterwards to reproach
these three men with their failure in all the under
takings he had confided to them, would the governor
dare to say to him : " I thought I knew quite enough,
although I did not really know much about sieges, and
I did not wish to take the trouble to learn more about
how to defend the place better and for a longer time " ?
Would the ignorant general be able to say to him :
" I did not wish to confuse myself with the different
advice of various engineers as to the attack on such
and such a town, nor was I willing to listen to the
arguments of experienced officers who could have
supplied for my ignorance ; and it was this that made
me lose the battle. I was satisfied with my own
opinion; I thought that my good intentions and my
want of capacity would excuse me, and that you would
be contented with me, provided I did not betray you " ?
Would the ambassador have the face to allege that he
was not obliged to be thoroughly acquainted with the
designs of his opponents, or with the affairs of the
foreign Court with which he had negotiations, or with
the means of influencing minds there, that so he might
serve his master's interests ? The King would reply :
" It was necessary for you all to have watched day and

524 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
night that you might gain a perfect knowledge of all
these things ; and because you neglected this, you have
betrayed my interests, and you have sacrificed me to
your own indolence."
This is what the King would justly say. But what
will the King of kings say to you if you act like these
cowardby and unworthy servants ?
You see quite well, sir, that you would never pardon
such an ignorance, full of negligence and affectation,
and still less can you expect that God will overlook it
in you. And, indeed, we see that the observation of
the Sunda3' has been instituted for this very reason,
that one day in each week might be reserved for the
study of the law of God and for meditation on His
mysteries. This is why, in the olden times, those who
wished to be Christians were kept for a long time at
the study of religion, even before Baptism was given to
them. The necessity of knowing God and Jesus Christ
His Son, our Saviour, is always the same, and can
never grow less.
The Gospel, which is the book by means of which
God instructs mankind, is not given to us that we may
always remain unacquainted with what it contains. I
know that there are many earthly minded and unpre
pared men, who might abuse this holy study ; but those
who are prepared for it by a pure intention and a
complete docility of mind, ought not to deprive them
selves of it ; it is by this book, and not according to
the judgments of men, that we shall be judged. It is
therefore according to the standard of this book that
we must prepare our accounts, and anticipate, by our
fidelity in following the rules there laid down for us, the
awful judgment of God.
St. Paul said to the first Christians : You are made
rich in all knowledge, in all utterance of the truths of

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 525
God. (f) And, nevertheless, he incessantly repeats to
the faithful, that is to say, to all Christians without
exception, that they must be increasing, from day to
day, in the knowledge of God ; that they must be reformed
in the newness of their mind, that so they may not
only know the law in a general manner, but also
what is the good, and the acceptable, and the perfect will
of God. (f)
Whoever really loves his friend, is not content
with simply not offending him, he also tries to do all
in his power to oblige and please him. Sincere friend
ship is full of inventions and ingenuity. It is only the
craven fear of a slave that confines itself to avoiding
the punishment of great acts of disobedience. No man
of any spirit would like to be served by a domestic
who was never willing to do anything but things which
he could not possibly avoid doing, and who was afraid
of knowing too much of that which might gain the
affection of his master.
Jesus Christ is so anxious that we should be
enlightened with regard to His law, that He does not
even wish us to rely upon the decisions of people whom
we may consult, if we have cause to distrust them, or
to fear that they are not sufficiently enlightened. He
says : If the blind lead the blind, they shall both fall into the
pit. (*) Observe carefully that He does not say the fall
of the one shall excuse the fall of the other ; on the
contrary, the blind guide only serves to drag the other
into his own destruction, and both are precipitated into
the abyss.
Are we to conclude from this, that we are to run
incessantly from one teacher to another, and never
know in whom to trust, or what to believe ? That surely
(°) 1 Cor. i. 5. (') Coloss. i. 10; Rom. xii. 2.
(¦') Matt. xv. 14.

526 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
would be a state of uncertainty which would trouble
the peace of every conscience.
I agree to the truth of such an argument ; but
what I believe to be necessary is that we should
do for the eternal salvation of our souls what we
never fail to do for the fleeting life of our bodies.
If we are ill, we do not think that the most experi
enced physician or the most skilful surgeon is too
experienced or too skilful for the treatment of our case ;
we should look upon a man as actuated by a strange
rashness who contented himself with very inferior
physicians, and would not condescend to consult the
most skilful. Common sense alone is sufficient to make
us come to a decision on these occasions. Do the same
for your soul. Do not rest upon anything but the
advice which you believe to be the wisest, the most
upright, and the most disinterested. Avoid those people
who are too strict, either from a sour disposition, or
from ostentation, or through an obstinate pursuit of
novelties. But take care also not to seek, as the
Israelites did, after flattering and interested advice, or
those people who are enervated by worldly considera
tions, who, as the Scripture says, sew cushions under every
elbow, and make pillows for the heads of every age, to catch
souls, (f) instead of subjecting sinners to penance ; or
finally, those ill-instructed persons who would deceive
you b3' being themselves deceived. According to the
light which God has given you, seek after the just
medium ; and exercise in this search the same care
that a wise man employs in selecting the best advocate
and the best physician. Then you will be able to
remain in peace, and to trust humbly in the goodness
of God, Who will never permit you to remain always
in error, supposing you were being led astray.
(") Ez. xiii. 18.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 527
But, you will say, must we pass our lives in the
study of religion, like a doctor of theology ? No,
sir, this is not what God requires of you. He requires
that you should humbly nourish your soul each day
with the truths of the Gospel, not that you may decide
for yourself, but that you may distrust yourself more
and more, and learn of Jesus Christ to be meek and
humble of heart, (f) Then it will not be a subtle and vain
science that you will learn ; you will only learn how to
despise yourself, to trample under foot the fragile goods
of this world, to detach yourself from this life, which
vanishes away like a shadow, to love the greatness of
God, before which all other greatness disappears, to be
gentle, patient, just, and sincere in all your dealings
with your neighbour.
This science is not learnt by subtleness of argu
ment, or by a long course of reading, or by a facility in
retaining what is read : all that is necessary is a simple
and docile heart, and then, without any special acuteness
of intellect, we shall make a continual and marvellous
progress in this science, which is the science of the
saints. Two words will teach you the most profound
truths, and if you are humble you will understand more
from them than the greatest theologians who are puffed
up by their own wisdom. This is the science of so
many souls, ignorant in all else, to whom God has
communicated Himself. This is why Jesus Christ said :
/ confess to Thee, 0 Father, because Thou hast hid these things
from the wise and prudent of this world, and hast revealed
them to the simple and the little ones, (f) This is why He
said again, that we must become as little children to enter
into the Kingdom of Heaven. (;) It is therefore in this
science of becoming simple and as a little child, that
(«) Matt. xi. 29.
(') Matt. xi. 25. (¦') Matt, xviii. 3.

528 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
you must seek instruction every day, by meditation on
the Word of God.
I have written at such length on this one question,
sir, that I have not time to-da3^ to reply to your other
questions, but I will do so on the first opportunity.
I pray God to make you understand and appreciate all
I have said.
I had forgotten, sir, to say to you that the first of
all the commandments of God is quite sufficient to
disperse in a moment all your pretexts, and to canry by
force all your intrenchments. Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and
with all thy strength, and with all thy mind, f) See how
many expressions are united together by the Holy
Spirit, to anticipate all the reserves which a man might
wish to make, to the detriment of that love of God
which desires all things to be sacrificed to itself. This
is a jealous and supreme love ; the whole is not too
much for it. It will suffer no division, and permits
nothing to be loved any more except God, and those
things which God Himself commands to be loved,
for His sake.
We must love Him, therefore, not only with the
whole extent and strength of our heart, but also with
the whole application of our mind. How then can we
imagine we love Him, if we cannot resolve to think of
His law, or apply ourselves without intermission to
accomplish His will ? We are deceiving ourselves if
we imagine we can love with such a watchful and
attentive love, while at the same time we are afraid of
discovering too clearly what this love requires of us.
There is only one way of loving Him in good faith, and
that is, to make no bargains with Him, but to follow
with a generous heart all His inspirations, revelations
(°) Luke x. 27.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 529
as they are of the adorable will of Him Who has
created us out of nothing, and redeemed us by His own
Blood from eternal death.
All those who live thus behind these retrenchments
of self-love, wishing to love God only from the fear
that He may punish them, but also wishing very much
to be a little deaf that they may only half under
stand Him when He speaks to them of detachment
from the world and from themselves, all such persons
run a great risk of being of the number of those luke
warm souls of whom Jesus Christ declares that He will
vomit them out of His mouth, (f)
As for ourselves, who wish to belong to Him without
reserve, peace and mercy will come upon us ; and we
shall receive, in reward for the sacrifices we may make,
the hundred-fold promised even in this life, over and
above the Kingdom of Heaven hereafter. Liberty of
heart, peace of conscience, sweetness in abandoning
ourselves into the hands of God, joy at seeing the
Divine light always increasing within our hearts,
finall3', the escape from all the fears and the tyrannical
desires of this world : these will make up that hundred
fold of happiness which the true children of God
possess in the midst of crosses, provided only that they
are faithful to Him.
How faint-hearted then should we be, if we feared
to promise too much for the future, with so desirable a
state within our grasp ! The Scripture says : Woe to
them that are of a double heart ! (e) And, indeed, they are
incessantly torn asunder, on the one hand by the world
and their still living passions, and on the other by the
remorse of their conscience and by the fear of death
followed by eternity. Happy are those who, with
bowed heads and closed eyes, throw themselves into
(«) Apoc. iii. 16. (') Eccli. ii. 14.
II

530 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
the arms of the Father of mercies and the God of all
comfort, (a) in the words of St. Paul ! Far from fearing
lest they should see too clearly, these happy souls fear
nothing so much as not to see with sufficient distinct
ness all that God requires of them. As soon as ever
they discover some new depth in the law of God, they
rejoice, the Scripture tells us, as one that hath found
great spoil. (f)
As to your questions on the subject of what you
may read, and how you should employ your time, I
promise you, sir, a speedy reply, but I have already
said to you that this letter is too long, and you see that
even since I said so, I have made it still longer.

283.
(I. 8.)
He sympathizes with his sufferings, and tries to make him
look upon them as an effect of the mercy of God.
Friday, July 14 [1690] .
I hear, sir, that you are suffering very much, and
that God is putting you to a very severe trial by the
long continuance of your illness. If I followed the
impulse of my heart, I should indeed be grieved at
this ; but I understand that God loves you by His
striking you, and I am certain that these evils will
prove afterwards to have been real blessings to you.
God is imposing a penance upon you, which you
never could have made up your mind to impose upon
yourself, and which is nevertheless nothing more than
you owe to His justice for the expiation of your sins.
He takes away from you that which you would have
(") 2 Cor. i. 3. («) Ps. cxviii. 162.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 53I
had great difficulty in giving Him. And in taking it
from you, He takes from you also the glory of sacri
ficing it to Him ; so that you cannot take any honour
to yourself for this sacrifice. Thus, He humbles you
whilst instructing you.
Besides, He is keeping you in a state of powerless-
ness which overturns all the designs of your ambition.
All those magnificent schemes, upon which you have
nourished your heart for so long, are vanishing away.
Your wisdom is put to shame. In this manner, God
is forcing you to turn yourself entirely to Him. He
was jealous of a journey in which worldly glory would
have occupied all your desires, and in which you would
have been a prey to the most violent passions. Indeed,
sir, I believe that in preventing this journey, He has
not only preserved your soul from a great danger, but
He has also spared your body a mortal agitation.
He wishes you to live, and to live for Him alone.
And to make you enter upon this true life, He causes
you to pass through a state of overwhelming weakness,
in which you are dying to all human support. After
having afflicted you, He will console you like a kind
father, when affliction shall have detached and purified
your heart.
I pray Him to give you an unlimited patience in
sufferings so long and so painful as yours are. Why
cannot I share them with you, sir, and be your sick
nurse ? You could not have a more devoted one than
I would be.

532 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
284-
(I. 9.)
He exhorts him to confidence in God.
Tuesday, July 18 [1690] .
You ask of me, sir, some motive for confidence in
the midst of your afflictions ; but do you not see that
those very afflictions are in themselves the most sensible
proof you can have of the goodness of God, and that
they ought to reanimate your confidence in Him ? What
a happiness for you to perform a penance which you
have not chosen yourself, and which God Himself has
laid upon you ! Not only does this penance serve as
an expiation for the past, but it is also an antidote for
the future. It is forcibly detaching you from those
great designs of ambition, which of yourself you would
never have had the courage to sacrifice to God ; it is
keeping you suspended between life and death, and
surrounded by all kinds of important worldly affairs,
with yourself completely useless in the midst of them ;
it has brought you to the gates to death, and is with
drawing you from them again, after having shown
you at such close quarters that horrible gulf which
swallows up all that the world most admires. God
has overthrown you, as He overthrew St. Paul at the
gates of Damascus, and He is saying to you in the
innermost depths of your heart : It is hard for thee to
kick against the goad. Why persecutest thou Me ? (f) After
this, sir, can you doubt that He loves you ? If He did
not love you, why did He not abandon you to the
desires of your heart ? Why did He pursue you, when
you were flying from Him, with so much hardness of

heart and ingratitude ?

(") Acts ix. 4, 5.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 533
Did you deserve such long patience on His part,
and such a return of the grace you had so often
despised ? You had extinguished within you the spirit
of grace ; 3'ou had offended that spirit of truth ; you
had trampled under foot the blood of the covenant ;
you were a child of wrath : and yet God was not
weary of you ; He loved you, in spite of yourself. You
wished to perish, and He did not wish that you should
perish. He has revived His grace within you. You
love Him, or at least you desire to love Him; you fear
not to love Him ; you have a horror of yourself at the
sight of your sins and of the goodness of God. Do
you think that, without being assisted by the Spirit of
God, we can possibly desire to love Him, fear not to
love Him, and have a horror of ourselves and of our
own corruption ? No, no, sir ; it is God alone Who
can make such great changes in a soul so lost and
hardened as yours was ; and when God makes such
changes, we cannot doubt that He loves that soul with
an infinite love.
He saw more clearly than you did the leprosy with
which you were covered ; and it was the multitude of
your horrible wounds which, far from disgusting Him,
drew His compassion upon you. Ah ! what is necessary
to sovereign mercy, if it is not an extreme of misery, by
means of which it can be glorified ? Oh, what a fit
object you were for the mercy of God ! It shines forth
in you, more than in the case of another. Another
might imagine that the regularity of his life and
conduct had drawn grace upon him. But you, sir,
what had you ever done to God but offend Him, and
offend Him over and over again, by your scandalous
relapses ? What had you a right to expect from Him ?
Nothing but Hell, and a more severe Hell than that of
others. You are therefore the very man to whom He loves

534 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
to give, for He owes less to you than to any other. His
grace appears as a more unmixed grace in your case,
and it is to exalt this grace of His that He fills with
mercy such an abyss of misery and corruption. You
then, sir, can say with St. Paul : For this cause have I
obtained mercy : that in me first, Christ Jesus might show
forth all patience, for the information of sinners that shall
believe in Him unto life everlasting. (f) O men, who seem
to have filled up every measure of iniquity, look at me,
and never despair of the mercy of your Father in
Heaven ! There is only one crime that is unworthy
of this mercy, and that is, if we harden our hearts
against it, and refuse to hope for it.
It is true that you must never again rely upon
yourself, nor must you ever expect anything from your
own talents or your own courage. All will fail you
that is your own ; and you will be confounded by the
malediction of Jeremias, (e) if you lean upon an arm of
flesh : but in the same measure as you feel your own
helplessness, so should you open 3'our heart to the
all-powerful strength of Him Who says to you : Fear
not, for I am with thee.(f) He will change all your
afflictions into blessings. The illness of your body
will be the cure of your soul. And in the midst of
your consolation, you will praise God for having
stricken you with so many exterior wounds, to cure
those other deep and mortal wounds which pride and
sloth had made in your heart. You will see this secret
guidance of His mercy develope by degrees with regard
to you. Why do you delay to give glory to God, sir, by
giving yourself up to Him, without conditions and
without reserve? The more completely you trust in
(") t Tim*, i. 16.
(«) jjerem. xvii. 5. (') Is. xli. 10.

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 535
Him, the more you engage Him to take care of you.
I beg of Him with all my heart to make you experience
the peace and consolation which are to be found in
hoping in Him alone. 285.
(1. 10.)
He gives him certain subjects for meditation, and teaches
him how to sanctify his sufferings.
Wednesday, July 26 [1690] .
I send you, sir, seven different subjects for medi
tation : one of them I have treated twice, on account
of its importance. When you have made a trial of
them, you will see if this way is suitable for you, or if
there is any change you would like to make.
The more I think of you, sir (and that happens very
often), the more convinced I am that it is not without
some great purpose of His own that God is pressing
you to advance towards Him. You will have neither
rest nor consolation until you are detached from every
thing and belong entirely and unreservedly to Him, for
Whom all is not too much. Then will come peace and
joy in the Holy Ghost, with health and strength to
accomplish the designs of God. You can glorify Him
very much; this is why He loads you with His mercies :,
but He wishes for a large and generous heart in return,
which shall place all its consolation in repairing its
past sins and scandals by a brave course of conduct,
abandoned to the guidance of grace. I pray our Lord
to take possession of you in spite of yourself, and to set
fire to the four corners and the very centre of your
heart.

536 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

286.
(I. II.)
How we can preserve our sense of the presence of God
in the midst of crosses. [No date] .
You ask me, sir, by what means you can preserve
your sense of the presence of God, in the midst of
crosses. For my reply, I hope that you may experience
how true it is that crosses of themselves are most
powerful means towards keeping us continually in the
presence of God. What can there be more natural,
when we are suffering, than to seek for some relief? but
what relief and consolation are to be found in suffering,
when we lovingly turn our thoughts to God !
When your pains weigh heavily upon you, you send
for. those physicians and those members of your family
whom you think best able to help you : call in the same
way upon your Heavenly Physician to help you ; He
can understand and cure your pains all the better,
because it is He Who has caused them, through
His mercy. Call upon the sole Friend, the true
Comforter, the tender Father, Who will carry you in
His arms, and Who will give you, either relief for
your sufferings or courage to bear them patiently in all
their bitterness. Oh, how sweet it is to feel such a
resource as this in God, and to know that He will never
fail us ! He is always quite ready to listen to us ; He
knows better than we know ourselves all we are
suffering. It is He Who has made us suffer, because
He wishes to spare us other eternal sufferings, which
we have deserved. It is He Who forms within us the
cry by which we call Him to our assistance. That cry,

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 537
He tells us in the Holy Scripture, (f) shall scarcely have
been formed in your mouth, and already I will hear it,
and will hasten to your assistance.
If sometimes He appears slow in delivering us, and
in coming to console us, it is because He is acting
towards us as Jesus Christ acted towards Lazarus,
whom He loved so tenderly : He purposely waited
several days, and allowed Lazarus to die, in order that
He might have occasion to raise him to life again. God
seems slow to cure you, because He wishes to leave
you a prey to your sufferings a little longer, that you
may die to yourself and to the corrupt life of this world.
When all your desires shall have been thoroughly
deadened, when your pride is in the dust of the tomb,
when 3'ou begin to be insensible to false shame and
pernicious acquiescence in the wishes of your profligate
friends ; when you have sacrificed all to God without
reserve, and have left to the old man neither hope nor
resource ; then I hope that God will manifest His
glory: He will restore to you a life that is pure and
worthy of Him ; He will show you to the world as a
new Lazarus risen from the dead, not that you may
resume your cowardly, vain, and profane life, but that
you may be, in the eyes of an unbelieving world, a
living proof of the wonders of God, which shall
convince the incredulous, silence the most malignant
wickedness, and encourage sinners to turn to Him.
Meanwhile, sir, say to God in your sufferings : My
God, rather would I forget myself than forget Thee :
Memor fui Dei, et delectatus sum — "I remembered God, and
was delighted." (f) My sufferings are inevitable; for I
cannot escape from the blows of Thy just and all-
powerful hand. It is necessary then for me to suffer,
because I have sinned, and because the sentence for
(«) Is. lxv. 24. (e) Ps. lxxvi. 4.

538 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
my punishment has gone forth from on high. There
is nothing for me to do now, but either to suffer with
the despair of a soul given over to its own weakness, or
with the consolation of entire trust in Thee ; either
with the agitation of self-love driven to desperation by
pain, or with the peace of Thy love and confidence in
Thine eternal goodness.
Impatience can deliver us from no suffering ; on the
contrary, it is in itself a ver3? poignant suffering, which
we add to all our other sufferings, until we are over
whelmed by them. Resignation does not increase the
pains we suffer ; it soothes them, it even charms them
away, so to speak, by discovering to us the infinite
blessings which are hidden under these apparent evils.
I only propose, therefore, sir, that you should throw
yourself into the. arms of God, in order that you may
find there the sweetest of all remedies. You may be
quite sure that such an abandonment of yourself will be
less a sacrifice of 3'our own will in the midst of your
pains, than a relief of those pains themselves. If you
accustom yourself by degrees to seek in God with
confidence all that is wanting to you in 3'ourself, you
will acquire by degrees a happy habit of turning to
Him whenever your sufferings oppress you, just as a
little child clings to the bosom of his nurse whenever he
sees anything that frightens him, or whenever he is
in trouble. That which makes your return to God so difficult, is
that you make too much effort in doing so, without
having a certain full and simple trust in Him, and
you seek rather to make a painful sacrifice of yourself,
than to find the consolation of your heart in Him. God
wishes you to be more at ease with Him. Turn to Him
then, less to give to Him, than to receive from Him ;
for you can only give to Him what He has first given

TO THE MARQUIS DE SEIGNELAI. 539
to you. Open your heart to Him from one moment to
another ; you will receive from Him patience in the train
of love. When you lose your patience in the midst of
suffering, you can have recourse to God, and call upon
Him to help you, just as you would call some one to
your assistance to share in carrying part of a very
heavy burden. If you should happen to give way to
a temptation to impatience, do not add to that fault
the greater fault of being discouraged. When we are
impatient with our impatience, we only inflame the
wound : we must, on the contrary, lift our eyes to our
Physician, and show Him the depth of our wound, in
order that He may pour in balm to heal it.
Remain tranquil and humbled under the hand of
God, at the sight of your pride and impatience, your
shrinking from suffering and your irritability. Nothing
is more calculated to put you to shame, than the reflec
tion which God has caused you to make. You have
now only one single way in which you can practise
virtue, and that is, by suffering with peace and
gentleness ; every other occasion of sacrifice is taken
away from you. You have neither the snare of worldly
affairs nor the seduction of profane society and con
versation : you are surrounded by a Christian family,
and nothing remains for you but to suffer. You do
this so badly, that this alone ought to suffice to take
away all your confidence in yourself. How many
innocent souls are there who suffer much greater pains
than yours, and who have none of the alleviations that
you have, although you deserve none ! Remain often
in the presence of God, quietly thinking over all these
things. One word from a Psalm or from the Gospel,
or from some other passage of Scripture which may
have touched your heart, will be sufficient to help you
from time to time to raise up your heart to God. But

54° SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
these elevations of the heart must be easy, short,
simple, and familiar ; you can make them even when
you are surrounded by people, without any one per
ceiving it.
You have besides one advantage which you ought
not to lose sight of, and that is, that you are able to
speak freely of such things to those members of your
family who are themselves full of piety. When such
little conversations are but an overflowing of the
heart's fulness, and perfectly spontaneous, they nourish,
strengthen, and encourage the soul ; they give it courage
to bear crosses, and comfort it in its temptations
to despair ; they enlarge a heart that is narrowed by
suffering, and they preserve that heart in a certain
peace that is scarcely ever enjoyed as long as we
remain shut up within ourselves.
As for your prayers and spiritual readings, you must
make them very short, for in your present state you
cannot be too careful of your mind and body. Short,
simple, and frequent elevations of your heart to God,
by means of some passage that has touched you,
will do you more good than continued application to
a given subject. You can let your family and your
friends speak to you, and content yourself with listen
ing. And while you are listening to their conversation,
your heart need not cease to be often recollected in the
consideration of spiritual things, and it can feed on
God in secret. Silence is very necessary for your body
and soul. It is in silence, and in hope, as the Scripture
says,(a) that your strength shall be.
(") Is. xxx. 15.

MARIE-ANNE COLBERT,
DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART,
Was a daughter of the great Colbert, and was married in
1679, to Louis de Rochechouart, Due de Mortemart. She
was left a widow nine years afterwards, her husband dying in
1688 at the early age of twenty-five. After his death, the
Duchess led a life of piety and retirement, keeping up a close
friendship with the Due de Chevreuse and the Due de Beau
villiers, her two virtuous brothers-in-law. It was through
them that she became acquainted with Fenelon, for whom
henceforth she always entertained the greatest respect and
veneration. From several letters of Father Lami, the Bene
dictine, to Fenelon, we learn that the Duchesse de Mortemart
was in the habit of making frequent retreats at the Convent
of the Visitation at Saint-Denis, where one of her daughters
was a professed nun, that a cell was there reserved for her
use, and that, without taking the actual vows of religion, she
there led the life of a true religious. She died there on the
13th of February, 1750.
LETTERS TO THE DOWAGER DUCHESSE DE
MORTEMART. 287-
(I. 66.)
That we must follow grace step by step, and be compas
sionate to the weakness of beginners. That we should
proportion spiritual reading to the interior state of
each person. Cambrai, January 9, 1707.
We hear every day, my good Duchess, that you
are still suffering. I am very truly grieved at this,

542 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
and fear the consequences of so prolonged a state of
suffering. With regard to other things, I am delighted to hear
that the Due de Mortemart is doing his duty to you
and to the public, and that the young Duchess is
behaving better. You cannot have too much patience
with her, as long as you do not go so far as to flatter
her ; for I am strongly tempted to believe that the
vivacity of her imagination, her custom of giving way
to the romantic fancies of her self-love, and the weak
ness of her nature to resist all these difficulties, often
make it almost impossible for her to succeed in correct
ing herself. It seems to me much more important not
to force her in anything, and not to shake her confidence
in you, than to urge upon her the correction of her
faults. We must follow grace step by step, and content
ourselves with gradually drawing from souls as much
as they can give.
As for the Due de Mortemart, I am assured that he
is conducting himself well, and it seems to me that the
Due de Saint Aignan approves of his behaviour ; he
even praises the nobility of his sentiments, and does so
in a way that I believe to be sincere. I hope that you
may be relieved from your embarrassment with regard
to the expenses of your household ; it is necessary for
you to put your affairs in good order. But as your son
is doing well, I think you would not be willing that any
such separation or change should take place and be
publicly known, as might lead people to think you were
not satisfied with him. Tell me, when you can, how
he stands with the Due de Beauvilliers, and what is to
be hoped for with regard to the office.*
* The Due de Mortemart was son-in-law to the Due de Beau
villiers ; the office was no doubt the government of Havre, which
the Due de Mortemart actually held later on.

TO THE DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART. 543
I think I must tell you as a secret, something that
has reached me through a source that is worthy of
attention. I am told that Lechelle has undertaken the
direction of his niece and of several other persons, inde
pendently of his brother the Abbe, who was at first
their director ; that he gives them spiritual reading
that is too advanced for them, and above their compre
hension ; that, among other things, he makes them
read the writings of N  , which these persons are
not at all capable of understanding, or of reading with
any profit to themselves. I will tell you with regard to
this matter that, as I do not wish to rely exclusively
on my own wisdom, I think I ought to confine myself
to proposing that you should write to the author, that
he may examine what use ought to be made of the
writings he has left. Are there not too many copies of
them ? are they not communicated too easily ? does not
each person take it upon himself to decide as to com
municating them as he thinks proper, although he may
not perhaps be sufficiently advanced to come to any
such decision ? I do not know what is actually going
on ; therefore I do not blame any of our friends. But,
in a general way, I should like them to have a rule
from the author himself in this matter, which might
restrain them.
In these writings, there are many excellent things
for the greater number of souls who have some idea of
the interior life ; but there are also very many things,
which, being the best of all for persons of a certain
attraction and a certain degree of advancement, are
capable of causing delusion and scandal in the case of
many other persons, who might read them prematurely.
I would like the person in question to write you two
words upon his intentions in this matter, in order
that in future we may, without quoting him, see to

544 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
the rule being observed which he shall have laid
down. I had not yet received this information with regard
to Lechelle, when he set out from here. You know
that he is very likely to act from enthusiasm, and that
he is not naturally docile. You can easily find out the
root of the matter, and remedy it, if necessary. It is
also important to beware of his brother, who has been
deceived several times. He is too anxious to discover
what is extraordinary. He is guided by what he reads,
instead of by direct experience ; his imagination is no
less lively nor less rigid than that of Lechelle.
Good-night, my good Duchess ; take care of your
health, and believe that I was never more devoted to
you than I am now. 288.
(i. 78.)
That we must fight against our faults, patiently and
calmly ; and give others full opportunities of confiding
in us. Cambrai, June 8, 1708.
I must confess to you, my good Duchess, that I am
delighted to see you overwhelmed by your faults, and
by your powerlessness to conquer them. This despair
of nature, when it is reduced to expect nothing more
from itself and to hope for nothing except from God, is
precisely what God wishes. He will correct us, when we
have given up all hope of ourselves correcting ourselves.
It is true that your natural temperament is quick
and irritable, with a depth of melancholy, which makes
you too sensitive to the faults of others, and leaves
impressions upon you which are difficult to efface;
but God will never reproach you for your natural

TO THE DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART. 545
temperament ; you did not choose it for yourself, nor
are you free to deprive yourself of it. It will even
serve for your sanctification, if you bear it as a cross.
But what God does ask of you, is that you should
really put into practice that which His grace puts in
your power. It is a question of being very humble
within, since you cannot be gentle without ; of giving
up your natural haughtiness, as soon as the light comes
to show it to you ; and of atoning, by your humility,
for that which you have spoiled by an outburst of pride.
It is a question of the virtue of humility, actually and
continually practised when the occasion arises ; and of
a sincere spirit of detachment with regard to your own
judgment. It is not astonishing that the high opinion
which all our good people have had of all your ideas
for the last twelve years, should have imperceptibly
accustomed you to a secret confidence in yourself, and
to a pride of which you were not conscious.
This is what I fear for you a hundred times more
than all your outbursts of bad temper. Your temper
will only cause you to make short deviations from what
is right ; it will serve to show you your pride, which
perhaps you might never see, if it were not for the
bursts of irritability which escape from you; but the
true source of the evil is only to be found in the secret
pride which has been nourished for so long, under the
finest pretexts.
Suffer yourself then to be humbled by your own
faults, as much as your occupation with the faults of
others has raised you up. Accustom yourself to see
others do without your advice, and do you do without
judging them. At least, if you say a few words to them,
let it be from pure simplicity, not to decide and to
correct, but only, as it were, proposing a thing as if
you were not quite sure of it, and wishing that they
JJ

546 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
may tell you of your mistakes, as you may have told
them of theirs. In short, the great point is to put
yourself on a level with the most imperfect of the little
ones. You must allow them a certain freedom with
you, which will help them to open their hearts to you.
If you have received anything for them, you must give
it to them, less by way of correction, than for their
consolation and nourishment.
With regard to Monsieur de Chamillard, you will
never do so well that which God asks of you, as when
you have neither over-eagerness nor activity. Do not
interfere in anything, if you are not sought for. You
will not have the confidence of people for their own
good, and you will not be able to be useful to them,
except in proportion as you let them come to you of
their own accord. Nothing gains confidence so much,
as never seeking for it. I say all this to you, because
it is natural for you to be tempted to wish to reform
things that seem to have an urgent need of reform, and
in which you are interested. To observe a just modera
tion in this matter, you may consult some one who
knows more about it than I do.
God knows, my good Duchess, how closely I am
united to you, and how much I wish that others may
be so also. 289.
(I. 80.)
That interior peace is only to be found in humility and
poverty of spirit.
Cambrai, August 22, 1708.
The great Abbe (de Beaumont) will give you news
of me, my good Duchess ; but he cannot tell you how
closely my heart is united to yours.

TO THE DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART. 547
I wish -very much that you may be at peace within.
You know that peace can only be found in humility,
and that humility is only real, in proportion as we
allow ourselves to be humbled under the hand of God
on every occasion. The occasions which God makes
use of consist generally in the contradiction of others
who disapprove of us, and in the interior weakness
which we experience. We must accustom ourselves to
bear with the contradiction of others from without, and
with our own weaknesses from within. We are truly
humble when we are no longer surprised to see ourselves
corrected from without by others, and incorrigible
within ourselves. Then everything is too much for us,
just as if we were little children, and we are willing
that everything should overwhelm us thus ; we feel
that others are in the right, but that we are powerless
to overcome ourselves, or to reform ourselves. Then
we despair of ourselves, and we expect nothing any
more, except from God. Then the correction of others,
however cold and hard it may be, appears to us less
than we deserve.
If we cannot bear the correction, we condemn our
sensitiveness still more than our other imperfections.
Correction cannot make us any smaller then ; it finds
us already so little. Our feeling of interior revolt, far
from preventing the fruit of the correction, is on the
¦contrary that which makes us feel our urgent need of it.
In truth, correction can only be felt, in proportion as it
cuts into the quick. If it only cut into that which was
dead within us, we should not feel it. Therefore, the
more intensely we feel it, the more we must conclude
that it is necessary for us.
Pardon me then, my good Duchess, for all my
indiscretions. God knows how much I love you, and
how much I feel for all your troubles. I ask your

548 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
pardon for all I may have written to you that is too
severe ; but do not doubt my heart, and count all that
is simply mine as nothing. Look only at the hand of
God, Who has made use of this clumsiness of mine,
to strike you a painful blow. The pain proves that I
have touched the affected part. Yield to God ; acquiesce
fully : it is this that will give you rest and peace with
your whole self. This is what you know so well how
to say to others. This is an important occasion ; a
time of crisis. Oh, what grace will flow upon you, if
you bear, like a little child, all that God does to humble
you, and to dispossess you as much of your own ideas
and opinions as of your will ! I pray of Him to make
you so little, that it will be impossible to find you any
more.

291.
(1. 142.)
That the knowledge of ourselves is hindered by self-love;
that we should use discretion in telling others of their
faults. Cambrai, February 1, 171 1.
I cannot express to you, my good and dear Duchess,
how much your last letter has consoled me. I find in
it all the simplicity and openness of heart which God
gives to His children with one another. I can protest
to you that I had no doubt whatever with regard to all
that you told me before. I only thought of telling you
things in a general way, without knowing how much
of them you might reasonably take to yourself, and
only feeling sure that each one of us never quite sees
the whole depth of his self-seeking, because that which
remains to us of self-seeking is precisely that which

TO THE DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART. 549
blinds our eyes, so as to conceal from us the sight of
these subtle and disguised remains of self-seeking itself.
But it was rather a general exhortation for all of us
and especially for myself, than a particular counsel for
you. It is only true that I hoped you would pay attention
to what I said with regard to not pressing our neigh
bour too much for the correction of certain faults, even
if they are glaring ones, until we see that God is
beginning to enlighten the soul of this neighbour and
to invite him to correct himself. Until then, we must
wait, as God waits, with kindness and patience. We
must not anticipate the signal of grace : we must
content ourselves with following it step by step. We
die very much to self, by this work of pure faith and
continual dependence upon grace in teaching others to
die to themselves. A criticizing and impatient zeal
may soothe us more, but it corrects us and others less.
The physician of the soul does as the physicians of the
body do, who do not venture to purge the sick person,
until the bad humours which cause the illness have
come to what they call a head.
I confess, my good Duchess, that it was my idea
that you should be careful in bearing with the faults of
the most offensive of our brothers, until the spirit of
grace gives them light and attraction to begin to correct
themselves. I was only seeking in all that for the
means of winning their confidence in you. I do not
know in detail what faults they have committed against
you : it is but natural that they should have com
mitted some without wishing to do so ; but these
faults will all happily prove to be profitable, since you
take them all upon yourself, and wish to see no imper
fection except in yourself. This is the true way of
yielding to God, and of making our house clean for the

550 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
little Master (Jesus Christ). Abandon yourself to Him
in the darkness of your soul and in all your sufferings.
Oh, how good the deepest night is, provided we really
believe we can see nothing, and that we flatter our
selves in nothing ! 292.
(1. 156.)
That we must not seek the confidence of others with
too much eagerness; that we must bear patiently
the crosses which God lays upon us ; and fear the
illusions of self-love. Cambrai, July 27, 171 1.
It is a long time since I wrote to you, my good and
dear Duchess ; but I do not like to write to you by the
post, and I have not been able to find any other means
for a long time.
You do well to let the confidence of your friends
come and go as it will. When we give up all the
reflections of our self-love, we learn to live in peace with
our own weariness, and our sensitiveness is deadened.
The less we expect from our neighbour, the more this
resignation makes us amiable and able to edify every
one. If you seek for confidence, it will escape from
you ; if you cease to expect it, it will return to you :
but it must not be with the intention of regaining it,
that you should make the sacrifice of it.
The more painful your crosses are, the more faithful
you must be to increase them in nothing. We increase
our crosses, either by trying to throw them off by vain
exterior struggles against Providence, or by interior
struggles, which are not less vain, against our own
sensitiveness. We must remain motionless under our

TO THE DUCHESSE DE MORTEMART. 551
cross, keep it as long as God gives it to us, without
impatiently trying to shake it off, and we must bear
it with humility, adding to its weight the shame of
bearing it so badly. The cross would be a cross
no longer, if self-love had the flattering support of
carrying it courageously.
Nothing is better than to remain without any inde
pendent movement of our own, and to resign ourselves
with an entire pliability to every touch of the hand of
God alone. Then, as you say, we give up everything ;
but nothing is lost in this universal surrender. It is
sufficient for us to acquiesce really in all that God
shows us with regard to the correction of our faults.
We must also be always ready to listen with humility,
and without justifying ourselves, to all that others tell
us about ourselves, with a sincere disposition to follow
their advice, as far as God gives ,us light to do so.
The state of which you speak to me — a feeling of
emptiness of good and evil — can do you no harm.
Nothing could keep you back, but some secret fulness
and self-satisfaction. The silence of the soul makes
the soul listen for the voice of God ; the emptiness of
the soul is a real fulness; and its nothingness is the
true all: but this nothingness must be very real.
When it is real, we are ready to believe that it is not
so; he who wishes to have nothing, is not afraid of
being deprived of all.
For myself, I spend my life in getting angry when
there is no occasion, in speaking indiscreetly, and in
being impatient with every importunity that disturbs
me. I hate the world, I despise it, and nevertheless I
am flattered by it a little. I feel that old age is advanc
ing insensibly, and I accustom myself to this, without
being detached from life. I find nothing real in myself,
either within or without. When I examine myself, I

552 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
think I am dreaming ; I see myself as an image in a
dream. But I do not wish to think there is any merit
in this state : I do not wish to judge of it, as good or
bad : I abandon it to Him Who cannot be deceived,
and I remember that I myself, as any one else, may be
in a state of delusion.
My union with you is very sincere ; I feel for all
your troubles ; I would like to see you, and help to
comfort you : but we must be contented with what God
does. It seems to me that I have no desire whatever
to mix myself up with the world ; I feel that there
is a kind of barrier between the world and me,
which prevents me from desiring it, and would, I
think, make me annoyed if I were obliged one day
to return to it. The sad and bitter remembrance of
our dear little Abbe* comes back to me very often,
although I have no longer a keen grief for his loss. I
often find that I miss him, and yet I imagine he is
quite near me.
I send you an answer for 3'our daughter, whose
confidence is touching. I also send you an answer for
Madame de la Maisonfort.
Good-night, my good Duchess ; I am yours without
measure, more than I have ever been in my life.
* The Abbe de Langeron, who had died the year before.

LOUIS, DUC DE BOURGOGNE,
AND AFTER THE DEATH OF HIS FATHER, DAUPHIN
OF FRANCE,
Was the grandson of Louis XIV. and of Marie-Th6rese of
Austria. He was born at Versailles on the 6th of August,
1682. His governor was the Due de Beauvilliers, and the
Archbishop of Cambrai was his tutor. With them were asso
ciated the Due de Chevreuse, the Abb6 de Beaumont, the
Abb6 de Langeron, and several other friends no less worthy
of sharing in the education of the young Prince. " There was
but one heart, one spirit, and one soul between them all, and
that soul was the soul of Fenelon."
The results of their united labour were of the most striking
kind. The Due de Bourgogne, who was naturally proud,
haughty, and passionate, became in a few years, under their
wise guidance, the most virtuous, amiable, and accomplished
of Princes. His talents and knowledge rendered him
admirably prepared to undertake the government of a great
kingdom, and all the hopes of France were centred upon him.
These hopes were doomed to a terrible disappointment, for
the young Dauphin was suddenly carried off by a cruel
illness, less than a year after the death of his father, on the
1 8th of February, 1712, and his loss was a death-blow to
Fenelon, who loved him dearly, and looked upon him as the
coming regenerator of his country. The Duke had married,
on the 7th of December, 1697, Marie-Adelaide, daughter of
Victor- Amadeus II., Duke of Savoy. She died six days before
her husband. Their children were : (1) The Due de Bretagne,
born June 26, 1704; died April 13, 1705. (2) Louis, Due de
Bretagne, born January 8, 1707 ; died March 8, 1712. And
(3) Louis, Due d'Anjou, and afterwards Dauphin of France,
born February 15, 1710, who succeeded his great-grandfather,
Louis XIV., and reigned under the title of Louis XV.

554 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
LETTERS TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE.
293-
(I- 34)
Exhortation to solid piety and a humble self-knowledge.
Cambrai, January 17, 1702.
Nothing has ever given me so much consolation
as the letter I have received from you. I return thanks
for it to Him Who alone can do with the heart as He
wills, for His own glory. He must love you very much
when He thus gives you the love of Him in the midst
of all that is most capable of extinguishing that love in
your heart. Love Him then above all things, and fear
nothing but the loss of this love. He Himself will be
your sole light, your sole strength, your life, and your
All. Oh, how rich and powerful a heart is, even in
the midst of crosses, when it bears this treasure within
itself! It is in your heart that you must accustom
yourself to seek Him with the simplicity of a child,
with a tender familiarity, and with a perfect confidence
which will charm so kind a Father.
Do not be discouraged at your weaknesses. There
is a way of bearing with them without flattering them,
and of correcting them without giving way to impatience.
God will help you to find out this peaceful and efficacious
way if you seek it with an entire distrust of yourself,
and if you walk always in His presence, as Abraham
did. In the name of God, let prayer nourish your heart,
as food nourishes your body. Let prayer, at certain
regular times, be for you a constant source of the
remembrance of the presence of God during the day;

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 555
and let this thought of the presence of God, by becoming
frequent during the day, be a renewal of your prayer.
This short and loving thought of God reanimates the
whole man, calms his passions, brings with it light and
counsel on all important occasions, gradually subdues
natural impetuosity, and makes us possess our souls
in patience, or rather makes us allow God to possess
them. Renovamini spiritu mentis vestrce — "Be renewed in
the spirit of your mind." (f)
Do not attempt long meditations, but be careful to
give yourself every morning to short mental prayer
during some time snatched from your usual occupations.
This moment of provision will nourish you for the
whole of the day. Make this prayer more from your
heart than your head, less through reflections than
from simple affection ; with but few arranged consider
ations, and much faith and love.
You must read also, but you must read things
that will help you to be recollected, things that will
strengthen you and familiarize you with God. You
have a person near you who can guide you in the
selection of suitable spiritual reading.
Do not be afraid to frequent the sacraments accord
ing to your needs and attraction ; you must let no vain
considerations deprive you of the Bread of Heaven
which came down for you, and desires that you should
receive It. Never make any useless parade of your
religion, but at the same time never be ashamed of
Him Who will alone be all your glory.
That which gives me wonderful hopes about
you, is that I see from your letter that you feel
your weakness, and humbly acknowledge it. Oh,
how strong we are with the strength of God when
we know how weak we are in ourselves ! Cum
(") Ephes. iv. 23.

556 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
infirmor, tunc potens sum — " When I am weak, then am I
powerful." (f)
Fear a fall a thousand times more than death
itself. But if unfortunately you do fall, hasten to
return to the Father of mercies and the God of all
consolation, Who will hold out His arms to 3'ou ; and
open your wounded heart to those who can heal it.
Above all things be humble and simple. Et vilior flam
plus quam factus sum, said David, et humilis ero in oculis
meis — " And I will make myself meaner than I have done, and
I will be little in my own eyes." (f)
Be diligent in all your duties, take care of your
health, and moderate your inclinations, that you may
not exhaust your strength.
I am only speaking to you of God and of yourself ;
it is not a question of myself. Thank God, my heart
is in peace ; my heaviest cross is not to be able to see
you, but I ever bear you in my heart before God, in
a presence that is closer than any sensible presence.
I would give a thousand lives as freely as one drop
of water, to see you all that God wishes you to be.
Amen. Amen.
The Abbe de Langeron is full of gratitude for your
kindness. 294.
(I- 35)
That the love of God must be our beginning, our end,
and our only rule in all things.
I think, my lord, that the true way of loving your
kinsmen is to love them in God and for God. Men
know nothing of the love of God ; for want of knowing
(") 2 Cor. xii. 10. (') 2 Kings vi. 22.

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 557
Him, they are but afraid of Him, and withdraw them
selves from Him. And this fear, in its turn, makes
them unable to understand the sweet familiarity of
little children in the bosom of the tenderest of all
Fathers. They only know an all-powerful and severe
Master. They are always ill at ease with Him, always
constrained in all they do. They do what is right
grudgingly, to avoid being punished ; they would
do wrong if they dared, and if they could hope for
impunity. The love of God seems to them a burden
some debt; they. try to elude it by the substitution
of empty formalities, and by an exterior worship which
they are always putting in the place of a sincere and
effectual love. They try to cheat God Himself, that
they may give Him as little as possible. O my
God, if men but knew what it is to love Thee, they
would care for no other life and no other joy but
Thy love !
This love requires nothing of us but an innocent
and regular life. It only wishes that we should do for
God what reason alone ought to make us practise.
There is no question of our adding to the good actions
we are already doing ; it is only a question of doing for
the love of God what upright men, who lead a good
life, do from motives of honour and love for themselves.
We have nothing to give up except evil, which we
should always have to give up, even if we had no other
guiding principle but true reason. With regard to
everything else, let us leave it in the order which God
has established in the world ; let us do the same honest
and virtuous things that are done by all who are
upright, but let us do them for the sake of Him Who
has made us, and to Whom we owe all.
This love of God does not require of all Christians
austerities similar to those which the ancient hermits

558 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.

practised, neither their profound solitude, nor their
exalted contemplation ; it usually requires neither
brilliant and heroic actions, nor the renunciation of
riches that we have lawfully acquired, nor the depriva
tion of the advantages of the various conditions of life ;
the love of God simply wishes us to be just, sober, and
temperate in a suitable use of all these things ; it wishes
that we should not make of them our god, or place
our beatitude in them, but that we should make use of
them according to the will of God, and as means of
leading us to Him.
This love of God does not increase our crosses,
it finds crosses already sown broadcast in every con
dition of man. Our crosses come to us through the
infirmities of our bodies and the passions of our souls ;
they come from our own imperfections and the imper
fections of other people with whom we are obliged to
live. It is not the love of God which causes these
troubles, on the contrary, it is that which sweetens
them for us, by the consolation with which it seasons
our sufferings. It even diminishes our crosses, in
proportion as it moderates the ardour of our passions
and our sensitiveness, which are the source of all our
real troubles. If the love of God were perfect within
us, by detaching us from all we now fear to lose or
desire to acquire, there would be an end to all our
real sufferings, and we should be crowned with a
blessed peace.
Why, then, should we have so much fear of this
love which causes none of our sufferings, which can
relieve them all, and which will bring with it every
blessing into our hearts? Men are really their own
enemies when they resist this love and fear it.
The commandment to love God, far from being an
addition over and above the other commandments, is

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 559
on the contrary, that which makes all the others sweet
and easy. That which we do from fear and without
love is always wearisome, hard, painful, and over
whelming. That which we do from love, from per
suasion, and with a perfectly free will, although it may
be hard to human nature, becomes ahvrays sweet. The
desire to please the God Whom we love, even if we
are suffering, makes us love to suffer; and suffering
that which we love is no longer suffering.
This love disturbs nothing, disarranges nothing,
changes nothing in the order which God has estab
lished. It leaves the great in their greatness, and
makes them humble under the hand of Him Who has
bestowed greatness upon them. It leaves the lowly
ones in the dust, and makes them contented to be
nothing, except in God. This contentment in the
lowest place has nothing mean about it, and consti
tutes a real greatness.
The love of God regulates and animates all the
other affections which we owe to creatures. We never
love our neighbour so much as when we love him for
God's sake, and with the love which God gives us.
When we love creatures outside of God, we only love
them for our own sakes. It is always either our own
interest, coarse and undisguised, or a more subtle and
disguised form of self-interest, that we seek in them.
If it is not money, or comfort, or favour that we seek
from them, it is the vainglory of thinking that we love
them from disinterested motives ; it is our inclination,
our self-complacency in the confidence shown to us,
our pleasure in being loved by worthy people, which
all flatter our self-love much more than a sum of money
would flatter it. It is therefore so far our own selves
whom alone we love, whilst we imagine we are loving
all our dear friends. To love others for our own sakes

560 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
is a very imperfect kind of love ; it is self-love rather
than true friendship.
How then shall we attain to true love of our friends ?
We must love them as God wishes us to love them ;
we must love God in them ; we must love what He has
given them, and bear for the love of Him the absence
of that which He has not given. When we only love
our friends from self-love, self-love, which is impatient,
sensitive, jealous, full of requirements and claims and
empty of merit, incessantly distrusts itself and its friend
also : it is weary, it is disgusted ; it soon sees the end
of all it thought greatest ; it finds disappointment
everywhere ; it is always seeking after perfection, and
never finding it ; it is affronted, it changes, it can rest
nowhere. The love of God, loving its friends without
self-seeking, loves them patiently in spite of their faults.
It does not expect to find in them more than God has
given them ; it seeks only God and His gifts in them ;
it willingly puts up with all men and all circum
stances, provided it can love what God has made, and
can bear with what God has not made, but which He
permits and wishes us to bear with, that we may
conform ourselves to His designs.
The love of God never expects to find perfection in
any creature. It knows that perfection is to be found
in God alone, and it is delighted to say to God, as
St. Michael said : Who is like to Thee ? All the imper
fection that it sees makes it say : " You are not vay God."
As it expects perfection from no creature, it is never
disappointed in anything. It loves God and His gifts
in every creature, according to the degree of goodness
in each one. It loves less that which is less good ;
it loves better that which is better : it loves all,
because there is no one who has not some little spark
of good, which is the gift of God, and because the

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 561
most wicked persons, as long as they are still in this
life, may always become good, and receive the gifts in
which they are wanting.
The man whom this love possesses, loves for God's
sake all that is the work of God, and all that God has
commanded him to love. He loves more that which
God wishes him to hold more dear. In his earthly
father he sees the image of his Heavenly Father ; in a
brother, in a cousin, in a friend, he sees the close bond
of friendship which Providence has appointed. The
closer these bonds are in the order of Providence, the
firmer and more intimate the love of God makes them.
Can we love God without also loving everything that
He has commanded us to love ? It is His own work
that He wishes us to love. Shall we not do so ?
It is true that we would rather die than love any
thing more than Him. He tells us in the Gospel : He
that loveth father or mother more than Me, is not worthy of
Me.(a) God forbid then that I should love more than I
love Him that which I only love for His sake. But I
love with all my heart, for His sake, all that represents
Him to me, all that contains His gifts, all that He
wishes me to love. This solid principle of love causes
me never to fail in any of my duties either to my
relations or my friends. Their imperfections do not
surprise me, because I expect nothing but imperfection
from all that is not my God. I see Him alone in all
that has the least degree of goodness. I love Him
alone in His creatures, and nothing can change this
love. It is true that this is not always a tender and
sensible love; but it is a real love, deep, faithful,
constant, and effectual; and I prefer it, by the choice
of my inmost will, to any other love. It has even its
(«) Matt. x. 37. **
KK

562 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
tendernesses and its raptures of affection. A soul
which really belonged to God would no longer be dried
up and contracted by the shifts and subtleties of self-
love ; loving nothing except for God's sake, it would
love as God loves, with an admirable love or charity ; for
God is charity, as St. John says ; (f) and its heart would
be an inexhaustible source of living water, as He has
promised. (e) Love bears all things, suffers all things,
hopes all things for its neighbour ; love surmounts all
difficulties ; from the depth of the heart it spreads even
to the senses ; it melts with pity for the woes of others,
counting its own sorrows as nothing; love consoles,
waits patiently, accommodates itself to all ; it is little
with the little ones, and great with the great ; it weeps
with those who weep, and rejoices through condescen
sion with those who rejoice : it is all things to all men,
not by a forced appearance and a hollow outward
show, but from the abundance of a heart in which the
love of God is a living source of the tenderest and
strongest and most exquisitely appropriate feelings.
Nothing is so dry, so cold, so hard, and so narrow, as
a heart that loves itself alone in all things. Nothing is
so tender, so open, so full of life, so sweet, so loveable,
and so loving, as a heart that is possessed and animated
by Divine love. 295-
(I. 36.)
An exhortation to imitate the virtues of St. Louis.
Child of St. Louis, imitate your father : be, as he
was, gentle, humane, easy of access, affable, compas
sionate, and liberal. Let your exalted position never
(") 1 John iv. 8. (') John vii. 38.

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 563
prevent you from descending with kindness to the level
of the smallest, or from putting yourself in their place,
and let this kindness of yours never weaken either your
authority or their respect. Study men incessantly,
learn to make use of them, without becoming a slave
to them. Go in search of real merit to the very end
of the world : as a general rule, it remains unobtrusive
and retired. Virtue does not push its wa3>- through the
crowd ; it is neither greedy nor overeager ; it allows
itself to be forgotten. Do not allow yourself to be
beset by flatterers and intriguers : let them see that
you love neither praise nor meanness. Give your
confidence only to those who have the courage to
contradict you respectfully when it is necessary, and
who love your reputation better than your favour.
The strength and the wisdom of St. Louis will be
given to you, if you ask for them, humbly acknowledg
ing your weakness and emptiness. It is time for
you to show to the world a maturity and strength of
mind proportioned to the present necessity. St. Louis,
at your age, was already the delight of the good and
the terror of the wicked. Give up, therefore, all your
frivolous amusements of past years : let the world see
that you think and feel all that you ought to think and
feel. It is necessary that good people should love
you, that the wicked should fear you, and that all
should respect you. Make haste to correct your own
faults, that you may labour usefully in the correction
of others. There is nothing weak, or sad, or constrained in
real piety: it enlarges the heart; it is simple and
amiable ; it makes itself all things to all men, that it
may gain all. The Kingdom of God does not consist in
a scrupulous observance of small formalities ; it consists,
for every one, in the virtues that are suitable for his

564 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
state of life. A great prince ought not to serve God
in the same manner as a hermit or as a simple subject.
St. Louis sanctified himself as a great king. He was
brave in war, decided in council, superior to other men
by the nobility of his sentiments, without pride,
without presumption, without harshness. He had
regard in all things to the interests of his country ; he
was as much the father of his people as their King.
He saw to everything with his own eyes, in important
affairs. He was diligent, provident, temperate, upright,
and firm in all his negotiations, so that strangers
trusted him no less than his subjects did. Never was
a prince more wise in governing his people, and making
them both good and happy. He loved tenderly and
trustingly all those whom he ought to love ; but he
was firm in correcting those he loved most, when they
were in the wrong. He was noble and magnificent
according to the manners of his time, but without pomp
or luxury. His expenses, which were great, were kept
in so much order, that they did not prevent him from
freeing his whole dominions from debt.
Long after his death, his reign was still remembered
with emotion, as one that might serve as a model to
other reigns, for centuries to come. People still spoke
only of the weights and measures, the money, the
customs, the laws, the policy, of the reign of the good
King St. Louis. They thought it impossible to do
anything better than to bring everything back to this
rule. Be the inheritor of his virtues before you are the
inheritor of his crown. Invoke him with confidence in
all your needs : often kiss his precious remains.*
Remember that his blood flows in your veins, and that
* Fenelon had given the Duke de Bourgogne a reliquary contain
ing a piece of the jaw of St. Louis.

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 565.
the spirit of faith, which sanctified him, must be the
life of your heart. He is watching you from the
heights of Heaven, where he is praying for you, and
where he wishes you to reign one day with him in Godi
Unite your heart to his. Conserva, fili mi, prcecepta patris
tui — " My son, keep the commandments of thy father." (")

296.
(I- 83-)
That it is in adversity that the courage of a prince
ought especially to shine forth. The example of
St. Louis. That those at the head of affairs must
avoid indecision. Cambrai, September 16, 1708.
My lord, I am only consoled at the disappoint
ments you are experiencing, by my hope of the fruit
which God will give you from these trials. God often
gives temporal prosperity even to the wicked, as St.
Augustine remarks, to show how He despises those
benefits which so much dazzle the world. But as to
crosses, He reserves those for His own, whom He
wishes to detach from all things, to humble under His
powerful hand, and to make the objects of His com
placency. Because thou wast acceptable to God, the Angel
said to Tobias, it was necessary that temptation should prove
thee. If) Very much is wanting to any man, however
great he may otherwise be, if he has never experienced
adversity. The Wise Man says: What doth he know,
that hath not been tried ?{l) We have no knowledge,
either of other men or of ourselves, if we have never
been in circumstances of misfortune, in which we gain
(°) Prov. vi. 20.
(') Tob. xii. 13. (*') Eccli. xxxiv. 9.

566 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
experimental knowledge of ourselves and of others.
Prosperity is a torrent which bears us up ; when we
are prosperous, every one burns incense in our honour,,
and we are intoxicated with this incense. But adversity
is a torrent which sweeps us away, and against which
we must struggle ceaselessly.
Great princes have more need of the lessons of
adversity than all the rest of mankind : and it is usually
these very lessons which is most wanting to them. They
need contradiction to teach them to restrain themselves,
just as persons of an inferior condition have need of
encouragement. Without contradiction, princes are
not in the labour of men,(f) and they forget their common
humanity. They must feel that everything can escape
from them, that their very greatness is transitory, and
that the men who are now under their feet would fail
them, if their greatness were to fail them. They must
-accustom themselves never to care to run the risk of
finding themselves at the end of their power, and to
know how to put themselves in the place of even the
least of other men, by kind consideration, and to spare
them as much as possible. Indeed, my lord, it is
much more important for the real good of princes and
their people, that princes should acquire such an
experience as this, than that they should always be
victorious. The thing I most feared for you was lest you
should be overjoyed and intoxicated at commanding
so powerful an army. I prayed God that you might
not be like that king of whom it is said in Holy
Scripture : Gloriabatur quasi potens in potentia exercitus
sui — "He gloried himself as a mighty one, in the force of his
army. "(f) The greatest princes have only a borrowed
strength. Their confidence is very vain, if they
(«) Ps. ixxii. 5. (') Judith i. 4.

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 567
imagine they are strong, on account of the number of
men assembled around them. An accident, a shadow,
a nothing, is sufficient to throw all that large body
of men into confusion, and terror. I was melted to
tears, when I heard you pronounce with such genuine
religious feeling those amiable words : Hi in curribus,
et hi in equis : nos autem in nomine Domini — " Some trust in
chariots, and some in horses : but we will call upon the name
of the Lord our God."(a)
Many short-sighted people imagine that the glory
of princes depends upon their success : it really depends
upon their taking proper measures to ensure success,
but not upon the success which such measures prepared.
It does not even entirely depend upon well-taken
measures ; for the mistakes that the most clever princes
are liable to make, may be turned to advantage for
their perfection and for the restoration of their
reputation, if they know how to make a good use
of them. The real honour of princes depends only upon their
virtue. They can but be admired, if they show them
selves to be good, wise, courageous, and patient.
Adversity gives them a splendour which the most
brilliant prosperity could never give. Adversity brings
to light resources in them which the world would never
have seen, if all things had gone well with them
according to their desires. The greatest of all victories
is that of a wisdom and courage that triumphs over
misfortune itself.
I cannot give you a more striking example of this
than the example of the King, St. Louis. He fought
for religion ; and God, Who loved him, gave him every
imaginable cross, as you know. I pray very often, that
the descendant of this great King may be the heir of
{<•) Ps. xix. 8.

568 SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
his virtues, and that you may be, like him, a man after
God's own Heart. My joy would be great, if you
could accomplish great things for the King and the
State ; but if God permits that you should not be able •
to accomplish them, I hope that at least you will do
to the very utmost of 3rour power all that is expected
of you. You will do this undoubtedly, my lord : if
you are faithful to God, He will lead you as by the
hand. Shall I dare to tell you what I hear is said of you
in public ? If I followed the rules of prudence, perhaps
I should not do so. But I would rather expose myself
to the risk of appearing to you indiscreet, than fail in
telling you what will perhaps be useful to a heart like
yours. You are sincerely respected ; you are tenderly
loved ; the highest hopes are entertained of the good
you may be able to do : but the public pretends to
know that you are not sufficiently determined, and that
you have too much regard for advice that is very
inferior to your own intelligence. As I do not know
the facts, I am ignorant as to the persons aimed at by
all this talk, and I only report to you, simply and word
for word, accusations, the truth or falsehood of which
I have neither the knowledge nor the power to unravel.
It is true, my lord, that your submission to the wishes
of the King must be inviolable; but you must make
use, to its full extent, of the power that he grants you,
for the good of his service. Moreover, it is befitting
that you should make the strongest representations of
your case, if you see that it is necessary that your
powers should be increased. A staid Prince, accus
tomed to serious application, and long since given up
to virtue, who is now concluding his third campaign at
the age of twenty-seven, cannot be looked upon as too
young to form decisions. The Due d'Orleans has

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 569
absolute powers in the war with Spain. It has already
been seen by experience that nothing can be expected
from you, my lord, but a conduct that is well con
sidered and full of moderation.
It is not a question of decisions that you might
make quite alone, and contrary to the advice of all the
general officers of the army : it is only sufficient that
you should be free to follow the course which you think
right, when your own opinion is confirmed by that of
the general officers who have the highest reputation
and the most experience. Far less would be risked,
by giving you such powers, than by keeping you always
under restraint and in submission to the ideas of one
particular person, or by making you always wait for
the decisions of the King. This last course might
expose you to most disastrous accidents. There are
urgent cases in which it is impossible to wait for
orders, without losing the opportunity, and upon
which no one is able to decide, except those who are
on the spot.
I ask your pardon, my lord, for this extreme freedom
of speech, which comes from extreme devotion. Thank
God, I have no interest whatever in this world. I am
only thinking of your interest, which is that of the King
and the State. I know to whom I am speaking, and
cannot doubt of the goodness of your heart. Mine is
devoted to you for the rest of my life, with the most
inviolable affection and the most profound respect.

57° SPIRITUAL LETTERS.
297-
(I. 86.)
Advice for the time of sadness and adversity.
[September, 1708] .
My lord, I thank God with my whole heart, at
seeing the simplicity and candour with which you are
good enough to disclose to me all that is passing within
your soul. The more designs God has on you, the
more' jealous He is of all your natural talents. He
wishes you to feel sadness, depression, pain of heart,
and irresolution, difficulties which you cannot over
come, and weakness which makes you discontented
with yourself. Oh", how pleasing this state is to God !
and how you will displease Him, if, possessing all the
regularity of the most brilliant virtues, you rejoice in
your own strength, and in the pleasure of being
superior to all. Say with David, my lord : Et vilior
flam plus quam factus sum, et ero humilis in oculis meis —
" And I will make myself meaner than I have done. And I
will be little in my own eyes." (f)
Fear nothing, as long as you are humble under the
powerful hand of God. Go on, not like a great prince,
but like a little shepherd-boy, with five stones, against
the giant Goliath. Provided you are not prejudiced
either for or against any one, provided you listen calmly
to all those to whom you ought to listen or whom you
ought to consult, and provided that afterwards, without
any regard to your natural likes and dislikes or to your
prejudices, you follow that which God, present and
humbly invoked, shall put into- your heart, you will
feel yourself to' be free, consoled, simple, and deter
mined ; and you will only make mistakes in proportion

TO THE DUC DE BOURGOGNE. 571
as you fail to act in this constant dependence upon the
spirit of grace.
If you are faithful in reading and praying during
the time reserved to yourself, and if, during the day,
you walk in the presence of God, in this spirit of love
and familiar confidence, you will be at peace ; your
heart will be free; you will have a piety without
scruples, and a joy without dissipation.
(") 2 Kings vi. 22.

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