[47.]

II.

TO A PRIEST ABOUT TO BE CONSECRATED

BISHOP.

ANNECY, June 3, 1603.

You are attaining the summit of ecclesiastical

life, and I would say to you, as it was said to the shepherd who was chosen to be King of Israel: "Mutaberis in virum alterum." You must be altogether a new man, both externally and inwardly, and to attain this great and solemn change you must stir up your whole mind. Thanks be to God who has given you the desire so to do; I trust that He will also give you the power, and so perfect His work in you.

In order to effect this change, you must seek the assistance both of the living and the dead; of the living, for you should seek out one or two very spiritually-minded men, by whose intercourse you may profit. Such confidence is a great relief to the mind. . . .

Then as to the dead, you must have a little library of two kinds of spiritual books; one kind suitable to you as an ecclesiastic, the other specially so as a Bishop. Make use of Grenada's works, almost as a second office book; they will frame your mind to a true loving devotion. To read profitably you must not be voracious, but weigh and ponder, applying what you read bit by bit to your own soul, with much

meditation and prayer. [Here follow the names of various other spiritual authors of that day-Stella, Arias, Avila, &c., and specially the Fathers SS. Augustine, Jerome, Gregory, and Bernard.]

I would further say that it is of infinite importance that you receive consecration with the greatest reverence and devotion, and with a full apprehension of the dignity of the ministry. The beginning is most important in all things, and we may well say, "Primum in unoquoque genere est mensura cæterorum.”1

I would also urge upon you great confidence and love for your Guardian Angel, the patron of your Diocese. . . . . Make a resolution to be diligent in preaching to your people. The Council of Trent, as well as all the Fathers, considers preaching to be a foremost office of Bishops. Do not aim at being considered a great preacher; do it simply as God's Will and your duty-a Bishop's fatherly sermon is worth more than the most elaborately got-up discourses of other men. He does not need much; his sermons should be about practical matters, not studied or curious; his words simple and unaffected; his action natural and fatherly, not studied; and then let his words be few, they will be enough. . . . I pray you, commend me to God; I will do the like for you, and will ever be yours, &c.

....

"The first step is the measure of all that follows."

[53.]

III.

TO MADAME ROSE BOURGEOIS, ABBESSE DU

PUITS D'ORBE.

April 18, 1604.

I

YOUR father has told me how much you are suffering. . . . The Lord be praised! This is the most sure and royal road to Heaven; and from what I hear, you are likely to travel along it for some time; your father tells me that you are still in the doctor's and surgeon's hands. I feel exceedingly for your sufferings, and commend them often to our Lord, that He may make them useful to you, and that at the last it may be said of you as of Job, "In all these things he sinned not." Courage, my good sister, my dear daughter; look at your Bridegroom, our King, crowned with thorns and stretched upon the cross, so that we "may tell all His bones." Bethink you that the bride's crown may not be softer than that of her Bridegroom. "As the rose3 among thorns, so is my love among the daughters."4 'Tis but the natural place of the flower, no less so of the bride. Accept your cross, embrace it a thousand times daily for love of Him Who sends it you. It is a costly present, the gift of Love. Often set the Crucified Saviour before 1 Job i. 22.

"2

2 Ps. xxii. 17.

3 The Bishop puts "Rose," which was the Abbess's Christian name, instead of "Lily," as in the text.

4 Cant. ii. 2.

your eyes, measure your sufferings with His; and yours will seem greatly the less. How great will be your eternal happiness, if you bear these little pains He sends you, patiently.

You are not mistaken in believing that I am near you in these trials; I am near in heart and affection, "I pour out your complaints before Him, and show Him your trouble," and it is a great comfort to me. But, my dear daughter, be brave, have confidence: "If thou wouldst believe, thou shouldst see the glory of God." What do you take the bed of suffering to be but a school of humility, where we learn our weakness and misery, how vain, sensitive, and feeble we are? You have learnt the manifold imperfections of your soul on that bed; . . . . it is one great use of affliction that it teaches us to look into the depth of our nothingness and bad dispositions. But, my dear child, we must not be downcast thereby, we must rather cleanse and purify our minds the more, and make better use of confession than heretofore. These anxieties which have assailed you, do not surprise me; but do not be disturbed, or let yourself be carried away by the tide. Let the enemy rave at the door, let him knock and batter, and do his worst; we know that he cannot enter the soul save by the door of one's own consent : keep that well shut, and there need be nothing to fear. 2 John xi. 40.

Ps. cxlii. 2.

You ask me to say some words to you concerning the peace of the soul and humility; I gladly would, but I hardly know what I can say in so brief a space. You may well couple the two together; the first cannot exist without the last. Nothing can really disturb us save self-love and self-esteem. If we have no tenderness of heart, no taste or sentiment for prayer, no inward sweetness in meditation, we begin directly to be downcast :-if we find it difficult to do right, if hindrances come between us and our good intentions, we grow anxious and eager to thrust them aside. Why is all this? Because we like consolation, ease, comfort. We would fain pray in eau de naffe, and exercise holiness by eating sugar, not considering how our Dear Lord fell on His Face in agony, while His sweat was, as it were, great drops of blood, through the intense conflict between His inclinations as Man and His resolution as God. And while self-love is one cause of our troubles, self-esteem is another. Why are we so astonished, disturbed, impatient when we commit some fault? Doubtless because we thought that we were good, stedfast, firm; and finding that it is quite. otherwise, we are vexed and put out; whereas, if we realised what we are, so far from marvelling because we fall, we should rather marvel how we ever stand upright! But we like nothing save what is pleasant,

Eau de naffe is a scent made from orange flowers.