TO A LADY, WHO HAD LOST HER ONLY SON. Aug. 23, 1619. KNOWING your sorrow, my dear daughter, my soul has been touched in proportion to the sincere love for you with which God has inspired me. I can see you, very grievously afflicted, a poor mother losing her only and most dear son. Nevertheless, I doubt not but that you are well assured that this parting is not for long, inasmuch as we are all travelling fast towards the country where your son has already arrived, as we hope, and rests within the Arms of God's Mercy. And it is your duty thus to soften, as far as may be, the bitterness of your natural grief. But I hardly need say this to you, my dear daughter. You have so long striven to serve God, and have so diligently studied in the school of the Cross, that you will not only accept this sorrow patiently, but gladly and lovingly too, I am certain; remembering Him Who bore His Cross even to the death, and her who had like you an Only Son, (and such a Son as none else ever had,) Whom she saw dying on the Cross, her heart full of grief, her eyes running down with tears, yet with a most tender, holy grief, for her grief was the salvation of the world. Well, my dear daughter, you have given up the most

precious possession you had. Bless the Name of the Lord, Who gave it and has taken it away. He will be more to you than many children. As for me, I have prayed earnestly for the departed soul, and will continue to do so by reason of the love I bear your soul, which may our Lord of His Eternal Goodness ever fill with heavenly blessings.

I am, my dear daughter, wholly yours, &c

[466.]

LXXV.

TO A YOUNG LADY.

MY VERY DEAR CHILD,

Sept., 1619.

I say Adieu to you with all my heart; may you be à Dieu for ever in this mortal life, serving Him faithfully amid the trials we must meet in carrying our cross after Him; and in the life to come may you worship Him for ever with His Heavenly Host. The great blessing of our souls is to be God's; the greatest of all is to be His only.

He who is God's only is never sorrowful, save when he has displeased God, and then his sorrow turns to a deep, but gentle, calm humility and submission, from out which he rises up with true loving confidence, free from all vexation and disturbance.

He who is God's only seeks none save God, and,

inasmuch as He is God's child as much in tribulation as in prosperity, his grace is never destroyed, come what may. He who is God's only thinks often upon Him, amid all the varying occupations of this life. He who is God's only would have it known by all that he is the servant of Christ, and strives in every way to live accordingly.

My dear child, be God's only; seek to please Him alone, and His Creatures in Him, through Him, and for Him; what greater blessing can I wish you? So with this I will say adieu, and, bidding you commend me often to His Mercy, I am, &c.

[467.]

LXXVI.

TO A RELIGIOUS.

MY DEAR DAUGHTER,

Sept. 9, 1619.

Strive to keep your heart in peace, and to preserve an even temper. I do not say do it, but strive to do it; let this be your chief aim. Above all, beware of being disturbed because you cannot all at once conquer the excitability of your temper and its many moods.

Shall I tell you what a monastery is? It is an academy for a minute education, in which each soul must learn to be manipulated, repaired, and polished, so that, having been finished and perfected, it may be

fitted into precisely that position which has been assigned to it by God's Will. There is no surer sign of perfection than a willingness to be corrected; the best fruit of humility is a knowledge that we stand in need of correction. A monastery, again, is a hospital of spiritual invalids who seek to be cured, and who are ready, to that end, to endure the lancet or the knife, as well as all other necessary treatment. In the early days of the Church monks were called by a name which signified "one who heals." Now, my daughter, do you be all this, and put away all that self-love may say to the contrary; only let your resolution so to do be quietly and lovingly made. Say, "I must either die or be healed, and inasmuch as I would not die spiritually I must be healed; and in order to be healed I will bear cure and correction, and I will intreat the physicians to spare me no suffering which is needful to such a cure."

My dear daughter, I hear that you are afraid of spirits and ghosts! The Sovereign Spirit of God is everywhere, and without His Will and permission no spirit has any power at all. Whoso fears His Holy Spirit need fear none besides. You are safe under His Wings, like a chicken beneath those of its brooding mother. When I was young I shared somewhat in this fancy, and in order to get rid of it I forced myself by degrees to go alone into the places which

Letters.

were alarming to my imagination, armed with trust in God; and I grew so completely out of the terror that now I delight in the darkness and solitude of night, in which the Presence of God seems more especially near. His good Angels, too, are around you, as a guardian band. "He shall give His Angels charge over thee; thou shalt not be afraid for any terror by night."

You will gradually win this confidence, as God's Grace waxes stronger in you; for grace brings forth trust, and "hope maketh not ashamed." May God ever reign within your heart. In Him I am, yours, &c.

[473.]

LXXVII.

TO THE ABBESS ANGÈLIQUE ARNAUD,

OF PORT ROYAL.

Sept. 12, 1619. I HOPE that God will strengthen you more and more, and that the thought, or rather temptation, of despondency as to your fervour will not last. When it arises, answer resolutely that you know those who trust in God will never be confounded, and that spiritually, as well as in all temporal things, you have cast your care upon the Lord, confident that He will sustain you. Let us serve God diligently to-day, and He will provide for to-morrow. Sufficient unto the