Vive ? JÉsus!

Annecy, 1617.

I have three quarters of an hour free, my dearest daughter, and seize the opportunity to write to you. You have indeed given me very special pleasure by speaking a little of your beloved self and of your dear daughters. God be praised for all you tell me of both the one and the other. Oh! my love, if you but persevere in serving our great and gentle Redeemer with the highest part of your soul, indifferent as you say to all that presents itself, true happiness will be yours. Souls who act thus are royal souls. May the divine Majesty give you the grace of faithful perseverance.

You have done well to discontinue your retreat. I assure you I never undertake mine in the very hot weather on account of the great drowsiness which it causes. Well, if God wishes us to walk like one who is blind and groping in the dark, what does it matter? We know that He is with us.

I am surprised at what you tell me about Paris and Chalons,[A] we have heard nothing of it from any one else. It would be a great boon to us not to separate for a year: but the Holy will of God comes before all things, and grace urges us to the acceptance of it. If they send me, it will do me good to see you again.

I do not quite know what to say of Sister ——[B]; tell me about her a little more in detail and of the effects on her of what she feels.

Consult the Rev. Father Rector and get her to speak to him herself. She should certainly use every endeavour to hide what you tell me of, and should never abandon herself to it; but if there is humility and simple obedience we need have no anxiety. You should insist emphatically upon simplicity, truth, and straightforwardness in all her actions, above all when she has these consolations. But in a word, if she possesses virtue you need fear nothing, even though they may come from the evil spirit. Nature or the imagination would seem to me more dangerous. Speak of this, I beg of you, in her presence to the Father Rector.

I assure you I am consoled to hear about little Orlandin. But the other little one, Raton, how is she going on? My daughter, you do singularly well not to keep those girls that are unsuitable. Try to win over their friends so that they may be satisfied with our own choice of subjects, even though those we choose may not have much dowry. My God! how important it is to have good subjects! I shall be sorry if Sister N. goes, for I think that in time she may make a good novice mistress and so relieve that daughter[C] whose mind is so wearied by the charge. The continuance of this weariness of hers gives me pain. Oh! my daughter, how true it is that we must be more than women to serve God above all natural humours and inclinations. Yet what happiness so to subdue nature that grace reigns in its stead! May it please the good God to assist us, for we can do nothing without His succour.

I have just written a line to M. Austrain, who begs of us to keep his daughter at least till September. We will willingly do so for his sake, but I own to you, daughter, that she is no gain to us.[D]

Still no news from Rome. I think His grace the Archbishop[E] would be glad to help us should this business be delayed. Beg of him, I beseech you, to push on the matter and above all by using the privileges which the Father Procurator says that he has obtained for us. It is really impossible to submit to anything else. I think, daughter, that you will do well to write him a humble, dignified, earnest request on the subject, for I fear the Father Procurator may be a little slow in following it up: but write as from yourself. My child, I must conclude. May God be all to you. Amen.

May His goodness be blessed. Believe me to be always devoted to you and Sister Barbe Marie and to all your daughters.... My child, I write in such haste that I forget half of what I want to say. Yes, indeed, most willingly will we make a chalice veil for you, but not until the very hot weather is over, for one cannot work neatly while it lasts. I do not know if we have the silks: Sister PÉronne Marie says we have not, but she will write to you about it.