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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Autobiography of Madame Guyon, by 
+Jeanne Marie Bouvier de La Motte Guyon
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Autobiography of Madame Guyon
+
+Author: Jeanne Marie Bouvier de La Motte Guyon
+
+Release Date: August 8, 2007 [EBook #22269]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MADAME GUYON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+AUTOBIOGRAPHY
+
+OF
+
+MADAME GUYON
+
+
+
+IN TWO PARTS
+
+
+
+MOODY PRESS
+CHICAGO
+
+
+_Printed in the United States of America_
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+In the history of the world few persons have attained that high degree
+of spirituality reached by Madame Guyon.
+
+Born in a corrupt age, in a nation marked for its degeneracy; nursed
+and reared in a church, as profligate as the world in which it was
+embedded; persecuted at every step of her career; groping as she did in
+spiritual desolation and ignorance, nevertheless, she arose to the
+highest pinnacle of pre-eminence in spirituality and Christian
+devotion.
+
+She lived and died in the Catholic Church; yet was tormented and
+afflicted; was maltreated and abused; and was imprisoned for years by
+the highest authorities of that church.
+
+Her sole crime was that of loving God. The ground of her offense was
+found in her supreme devotion and unmeasured attachment to Christ. When
+they demanded her money and estate, she gladly surrendered them, even
+to her impoverishment, but it availed nothing. The crime of loving Him
+in whom her whole being was absorbed, never could be mitigated, or
+forgiven.
+
+She loved only to do good to her fellow-creatures, and to such an
+extent was she filled with the Holy Ghost, and with the power of God,
+that she wrought wonders in her day, and has not ceased to influence
+the ages that have followed.
+
+Viewed from a human standpoint, it is a sublime spectacle, to see a
+solitary woman subvert all the machinations of kings and courtiers;
+laugh to scorn all the malignant enginery of the papal inquisition, and
+silence, and confound the pretensions of the most learned divines. She
+not only saw more clearly the sublimest truths of our most holy
+Christianity, but she basked in the clearest and most beautiful
+sunlight while they groped in darkness. She grasped with ease the
+deepest and sublimest truths of holy Writ, while they were lost in the
+mazes of their own profound ignorance.
+
+One distinguished divine was delighted to sit at her feet. At first he
+heard her with distrust; then with admiration. Finally he opened his
+heart to the truth, and stretched forth his hand to be led by this
+saint of God into the Holy of Holies where she dwelt. We allude to the
+distinguished Archbishop Fenelon, whose sweet spirit and charming
+writings have been a blessing to every generation following him.
+
+We offer no word of apology for publishing in the Autobiography of
+Madame Guyon, those expressions of devotion to her church, that found
+vent in her writings. She was a true Catholic when protestantism was in
+its infancy.
+
+There can be no doubt that God, by a special interposition of His
+Providence, caused her to commit her life so minutely to writing. The
+duty was enjoined upon her by her spiritual director, whom the rules of
+her church made it obligatory upon her to obey. It was written while
+she was incarcerated in the cell of a lonely prison. The same all-wise
+Providence preserved it from destruction. We have not a shadow of doubt
+that it is destined to accomplish tenfold more in the future than it
+has accomplished in the past. Indeed, the Christian world is only
+beginning to understand and appreciate it, and the hope and prayer of
+the publisher is, that thousands may, through its instrumentality, be
+brought into the same intimate communion and fellowship with God, that
+was so richly enjoyed by Madame Guyon.
+
+E. J.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+PART ONE
+
+Chapter  1                           13
+Chapter  2                           19
+Chapter  3                           25
+Chapter  4                           30
+Chapter  5                           38
+Chapter  6                           49
+Chapter  7                           60
+Chapter  8                           68
+Chapter  9                           76
+Chapter 10                           79
+Chapter 11                           84
+Chapter 12                           89
+Chapter 13                          100
+Chapter 14                          108
+Chapter 15                          113
+Chapter 16                          121
+Chapter 17                          128
+Chapter 18                          134
+Chapter 19                          140
+Chapter 20                          148
+Chapter 21                          156
+Chapter 22                          160
+Chapter 23                          167
+Chapter 24                          173
+Chapter 25                          178
+Chapter 26                          185
+Chapter 27                          191
+Chapter 28                          197
+Chapter 29                          205
+
+
+PART TWO
+
+Chapter  1                          219
+Chapter  2                          225
+Chapter  3                          231
+Chapter  4                          236
+Chapter  5                          242
+Chapter  6                          248
+Chapter  7                          255
+Chapter  8                          261
+Chapter  9                          266
+Chapter 10                          272
+Chapter 11                          277
+Chapter 12                          282
+Chapter 13                          293
+Chapter 14                          302
+Chapter 15                          309
+Chapter 16                          316
+Chapter 17                          326
+Chapter 18                          343
+Chapter 19                          353
+Chapter 20                          364
+Chapter 21                          374
+
+
+
+
+MADAME GUYON
+
+
+PART ONE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+
+There were omissions of importance in the former narration of my life.
+I willingly comply with your desire, in giving you a more
+circumstantial relation; though the labor seems rather painful, as I
+cannot use much study or reflection. My earnest wish is to paint in
+true colors the goodness of God to me, and the depth of my own
+ingratitude--but it is impossible, as numberless little circumstances
+have escaped my memory. You are also unwilling I should give you a
+minute account of my sins. I shall, however, try to leave out as few
+faults as possible. I depend on you to destroy it, when your soul hath
+drawn those spiritual advantages which God intended, and for which
+purpose I am willing to sacrifice all things. I am fully persuaded of
+His designs toward you, as well for the sanctification of others, as
+for your own sanctification.
+
+Let me assure you, this is not attained, save through pain, weariness
+and labor; and it will be reached by a path that will wonderfully
+disappoint your expectations. Nevertheless, if you are fully convinced
+that it is on the nothing in man that God establishes his greatest
+works,--you will be in part guarded against disappointment or surprise.
+He destroys that he might build; for when He is about to rear His
+sacred temple in us, He first totally razes that vain and pompous
+edifice, which human art and power had erected, and from its horrible
+ruins a new structure is formed, by His power only.
+
+Oh, that you could comprehend the depth of this mystery, and learn the
+secrets of the conduct of God, revealed to babes, but hid from the wise
+and great of this world, who think themselves the Lord's counselor's,
+and capable of investigating His procedures, and suppose they have
+attained that divine wisdom hidden from the eyes of all who live in
+self, and are enveloped in their own works. Who by a lively genius and
+elevated faculties mount up to Heaven, and think to comprehend the
+height and depth and length and breadth of God.
+
+This divine wisdom is unknown, even to those who pass in the world for
+persons of extraordinary illumination and knowledge. To whom then is
+she known, and who can tell us any tidings concerning her? Destruction
+and death assure us, that they have heard with their ears of her fame
+and renown. It is, then, in dying to all things, and in being truly
+lost to them, passing forward into God, and existing only in Him, that
+we attain to some knowledge of the true wisdom. Oh, how little are her
+ways known, and her dealings with her most chosen servants. Scarce do
+we discover anything thereof, but surprised at the dissimilitude
+betwixt the truth we thus discover and our former ideas of it, we cry
+out with St. Paul, "Oh, the depth of the knowledge and wisdom of God!
+how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out." The
+Lord judgeth not of things as men do, who call good evil and evil good,
+and account that as righteousness which is abominable in His sight, and
+which according to the prophet He regards as filthy rags. He will enter
+into strict judgment with these self-righteous, and they shall, like
+the Pharisees, be rather subjects of His wrath, than objects of His
+love, or inheritors of His rewards. Doth not Christ Himself assure us,
+that "except our righteousness exceed that of the scribes and pharisees
+we shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven." And which of us
+even approaches them in righteousness; or, if we live in the practice
+of virtues, though much inferior to theirs, are we not tenfold more
+ostentatious? Who is not pleased to behold himself righteous in his own
+eyes, and in the eyes of others? or, who is it doubts that such
+righteousness is sufficient to please God? Yet, we see the indignation
+of our Lord manifested against such. He who was the perfect pattern of
+tenderness and meekness, such as flowed from the depth of the heart,
+and not that affected meekness, which under the form of a dove, hides
+the hawk's heart. He appears severe only to these self-righteous
+people, and He publicly dishonored them. In what strange colors does He
+represent them, while He beholds the poor sinner with mercy, compassion
+and love, and declares that for them only He was come, that it was the
+sick who needed the physician; and that He came only to save the lost
+sheep of the house of Israel.
+
+O thou Source of Love! Thou dost indeed seem so jealous of the
+salvation Thou hast purchased, that Thou dost prefer the sinner to the
+righteous! The poor sinner beholds himself vile and wretched, is in a
+manner constrained to detest himself; and finding his state so
+horrible, casts himself in his desperation into the arms of his
+Saviour, and plunges into the healing fountain, and comes forth "white
+as wool." Then confounded at the review of his disordered state, and
+overflowing with love for Him, who having alone the power, had also the
+compassion to save him--the excess of his love is proportioned to the
+enormity of his crimes, and the fullness of his gratitude to the extent
+of the debt remitted. The self-righteous, relying on the many good
+works he imagines he has performed, seems to hold salvation in his own
+hand, and considers Heaven as a just reward of his merits. In the
+bitterness of his zeal he exclaims against all sinners, and represents
+the gates of mercy as barred against them, and Heaven as a place to
+which they have no claim. What need have such self-righteous persons of
+a Saviour? they are already burdened with the load of their own merits.
+Oh, how long they bear the flattering load, while sinners divested of
+everything, fly rapidly on the wings of faith and love into their
+Saviour's arms, who freely bestows on them that which he has so freely
+promised!
+
+How full of self-love are the self-righteous, and how void of the love
+of God! They esteem and admire themselves in their works of
+righteousness, which they suppose to be a fountain of happiness. These
+works are no sooner exposed to the Sun of Righteousness, than they
+discover all to be so full of impurity and baseness, that it frets them
+to the heart. Meanwhile the poor sinner, Magdalene, is pardoned because
+she loves much, and her faith and love are accepted as righteousness.
+The inspired Paul, who so well understood these great truths and so
+fully investigated them, assures us that "the faith of Abraham was
+imputed to him for righteousness." This is truly beautiful for it is
+certain that all of that holy patriarch's actions were strictly
+righteous; yet, not seeing them as such, and being devoid of the love
+of them, and divested of selfishness, his faith was founded on the
+coming Christ. He hoped in Him even against hope itself, and this was
+imputed to him for righteousness, (Rom. 41: 18, 22,) a pure, simple and
+genuine righteousness, wrought by Christ, and not a righteousness
+wrought by himself, and regarded as of himself.
+
+You may imagine this a digression wide of the subject, but it leads
+insensibly to it. It shows that God accomplishes His work either in
+converted sinners, whose past iniquities serve as a counterpoise to
+their elevation, or in persons whose self-righteousness He destroys, by
+totally overthrowing the proud building they had reared on a sandy
+foundation, instead of the Rock--CHRIST.
+
+The establishment of all these ends, which He proposed in coming into
+the world, is effected by the apparent overthrow of that very structure
+which in reality He would erect. By means which seem to destroy His
+Church, He establishes it. How strangely does He found the new
+dispensation and give it His sanction! The legislator Himself is
+condemned by the learned and great, as a malefactor, and dies an
+ignominious death. Oh, that we fully understood how very opposite our
+self-righteousness is to the designs of God--it would be a subject for
+endless humiliation, and we should have an utter distrust in that which
+at present constitutes the whole of our dependence.
+
+From a just love of His supreme power, and a righteous jealousy of
+mankind, who attribute to each other the gifts He Himself bestows upon
+them, it pleased Him to take one of the most unworthy of the creation,
+to make known the fact that His graces are the effects of His will, not
+the fruits of our merits. It is the property of His wisdom to destroy
+what is proudly built, and to build what is destroyed; to make use of
+weak things to confound the mighty and to employ in His service such as
+appear vile and contemptible.
+
+This He does in a manner so astonishing, as to render them the objects
+of the scorn and contempt of the world. It is not to draw public
+approbation upon them, that He makes them instrumental in the salvation
+of others; but to render them the objects of their dislike and the
+subjects of their insults; as you will see in this life you have
+enjoined upon me to write.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+
+I was born on April 18, 1648. My parents, particularly my father, was
+extremely pious; but to him it was a manner hereditary. Many of his
+forefathers were saints.
+
+My mother, in the eighth month, was accidentally frightened, which
+caused an abortion. It is generally imagined that a child born in that
+month cannot survive. Indeed, I was so excessively ill, immediately
+after my birth, that all about me despaired of my life, and were
+apprehensive I should die without baptism. Perceiving some signs of
+vitality, they ran to acquaint my father, who immediately brought a
+priest; but on entering the chamber they were told those symptoms which
+had raised their hopes were only expiring struggles, and all was over.
+
+I had no sooner shown signs of life again, than I again relapsed, and
+remained so long in an uncertain state, that it was some time before
+they could find a proper opportunity to baptize me. I continued very
+unhealthy until I was two and a half years old, when they sent me to
+the convent of the Ursulines, where I remained a few months.
+
+On my return, my mother neglected to pay due attention to my education.
+She was not fond of daughters and abandoned me wholly to the care of
+servants. Indeed, I should have suffered severely from their
+inattention to me had not an all-watchful Providence been my protector:
+for through my liveliness, I met with various accidents. I frequently
+fell into a deep vault that held our firewood; however, I always
+escaped unhurt.
+
+The Dutchess of Montbason came to the convent of the Benedictines, when
+I was about four years old. She had a great friendship for my father,
+and obtained his permission that I should go to the same convent. She
+took peculiar delight in my sportiveness and certain sweetness in my
+external deportment. I became her constant companion.
+
+I was guilty of frequent and dangerous irregularities in this house,
+and committed serious faults. I had good examples before me, and being
+naturally well inclined, I followed them, when there were none to turn
+me aside. I loved to hear God spoken of, to be at church, and to be
+dressed in a religious garb. I was told of terrors of Hell which I
+imagined was intended to intimidate me as I was exceedingly lively, and
+full of a little petulant vivacity which they called wit. The
+succeeding night I dreamed of Hell, and though I was so young, time has
+never been able to efface the frightful ideas impressed upon my
+imagination. All appeared horrible darkness, where souls were punished,
+and my place among them was pointed out. At this I wept bitterly, and
+cried, "Oh, my God, if Thou wilt have mercy upon me, and spare me yet a
+little longer, I will never more offend Thee." And thou didst, O Lord,
+in mercy hearken unto my cry, and pour upon me strength and courage to
+serve thee, in an uncommon manner for one of my age. I wanted to go
+privately to confession, but being little, the mistress of the boarders
+carried me to the priest, and stayed with me while I was heard. She was
+much astonished when I mentioned that I had suggestions against the
+faith, and the confessor began to laugh, and inquire what they were. I
+told him that till then I had doubted there was such a place as Hell,
+and supposed my mistress had spoken of it merely to make me good, but
+now my doubts were all removed. After confession my heart glowed with a
+kind of fervor, and at one time I felt a desire to suffer martyrdom.
+The good girls of the house, to amuse themselves, and to see how far
+this growing fervor would carry me, desired me to prepare for
+martyrdom. I found great fervency and delight in prayer, and was
+persuaded that this ardor, which was as new as it was pleasing, was a
+proof of God's love. This inspired me with such courage and resolution,
+that I earnestly besought them to proceed, that I might thereby enter
+into His sacred presence, but was there not latent hypocrisy here? Did
+I not imagine that it was possible they would not kill me, and that I
+would have the merit of martyrdom without suffering it? Indeed, it
+appeared there was something of this nature in it. Being placed
+kneeling on a cloth spread for the purpose, and seeing behind me a
+large sword lifted up which they had prepared to try how far my ardor
+would carry me I cried, "Hold! it is not right I should die without
+first obtaining my father's permission." I was quickly upbraided with
+having said this that I might escape, and that I was no longer a
+martyr. I continued long disconsolate, and would receive no comfort;
+something inwardly reproved me, for not having embraced that
+opportunity of going to Heaven, when it rested altogether on my own
+choice.
+
+At my solicitation, and on account of my falling so frequently sick, I
+was at length taken home. On my return, my mother having a maid in whom
+she placed confidence, left me again to the care of servants. It is a
+great fault, of which mothers are guilty, when under pretext of
+external devotions, or other engagements, they suffer their daughters
+to be absent from them. I forbear not condemning that unjust partiality
+with which parents treat some of their children. It is frequently
+productive of divisions in families, and even the ruin of some.
+Impartiality, by uniting children's hearts together, lays the
+foundation of lasting harmony and unanimity.
+
+I would I were able to convince parents, and all who have the care of
+youth, of the great attention they require, and how dangerous it is to
+let them be for any length of time from under their eye, or to suffer
+them to be without some kind of employment. This negligence is the ruin
+of multitudes of girls.
+
+How greatly it is to be lamented, that mothers who are inclined to
+piety, should pervert even the means of salvation to their
+destruction--commit the greatest irregularities while apparently
+pursuing that which should produce the most regular and circumspect
+conduct.
+
+Thus, because they experience certain gains in prayer, they would be
+all day long at church; meanwhile their children are running to
+destruction. We glorify God most when we prevent what may offend Him.
+What must be the nature of that sacrifice which is the occasion of sin!
+God should be served in His own way. Let the devotion of mothers be
+regulated so as to prevent their daughters from straying. Treat them as
+sisters, not as slaves. Appear pleased with their little amusements.
+The children will delight then in the presence of their mothers,
+instead of avoiding it. If they find so much happiness with them, they
+will not dream of seeking it elsewhere. Mothers frequently deny their
+children any liberties. Like birds constantly confined to a cage, they
+no sooner find means of escape than off they go, never to return. In
+order to render them tame and docile when young, they should be
+permitted sometimes to take wing, but as their flight is weak, and
+closely watched, it is easy to retake them when they escape. Little
+flight gives them the habit of naturally returning to their cage which
+becomes an agreeable confinement. I believe young girls should be
+treated in a manner something similar to this. Mothers should indulge
+them in an innocent liberty, but should never lose sight of them.
+
+To guard the tender minds of children from what is wrong, much care
+should be taken to employ them in agreeable and useful matters. They
+should not be loaded with food they cannot relish. Milk suited to
+babies should be administered to them not strong meat which may so
+disgust them, that when they arrive at an age when it would be proper
+nourishment, they will not so much as taste it. Every day they should
+be obliged to read a little in some good book, spend some time in
+prayer, which must be suited rather to stir the affections, than for
+meditation. Oh, were this method of education pursued, how speedily
+would many irregularities cease! These daughters becoming mothers,
+would educate their children as they themselves had been educated.
+
+Parents should also avoid showing the smallest partiality in the
+treatment of their children. It begets a secret jealousy and hatred
+among them, which frequently augments with time, and even continues
+until death. How often do we see some children the idols of the house,
+behaving like absolute tyrants, treating their brothers and sisters as
+so many slaves according to the example of father and mother. And it
+happens many times, that the favorite proves a scourge to the parents
+while the poor despised and hated one becomes their consolation and
+support.
+
+My mother was very defective in the education of her children. She
+suffered me whole days from her presence in company with the servants,
+whose conversation and example were particularly hurtful to one of my
+disposition. My mother's heart seemed wholly centered in my brother. I
+was scarcely ever favored with the smallest instance of her tenderness
+or affection. I therefore voluntarily absented myself from her. It is
+true, my brother was more amiable than I but the excess of her fondness
+for him, made her blind even to my outward good qualities. It served
+only to discover my faults, which would have been trifling had proper
+care been taken of me.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+
+My father who loved me tenderly and seeing how little my education was
+attended to sent me to a convent of the Ursulines. I was near seven
+years old. In this house were two half sisters of mine, the one by my
+father, the other by my mother. My father placed me under his
+daughter's care, a person of the great capacity and most exalted piety,
+excellently qualified for the instruction of youth. This was a singular
+dispensation of God's providence and love toward me, and proved the
+first means of my salvation. She loved me tenderly, and her affection
+made her discover in me many amiable qualities, which the Lord had
+implanted in me. She endeavored to improve these good qualities, and I
+believe that had I continued in such careful hands, I should have
+acquired as many virtuous habits as I afterward contracted evil ones.
+
+This good sister employed her time in instructing me in piety and in
+such branches of learning as were suitable to my age and capacity. She
+had good talents and improved them well. She was frequent in prayer and
+her faith was as great as that of most persons. She denied herself
+every other pleasure to be with me and to instruct me. Such was her
+affection for me that it made her find more pleasure with me than
+anywhere else.
+
+If I made her agreeable answers, though more from chance than from
+judgment, she thought herself well paid for all her labor. Under her
+care I soon became mistress of most studies suitable for me. Many grown
+persons of rank could not have answered the questions.
+
+As my father often sent for me, desiring to see me at home, I found at
+one time the Queen of England there. I was near eight years of age. My
+father told the Queen's confessor that if he wanted a little amusement
+he might entertain himself with me. He tried me with several very
+difficult questions, to which I returned such pertinent answers that he
+carried me to the Queen, and said, "Your majesty must have some
+diversion with this child." She also tried me and was so well pleased
+with my lively answers, and my manners, that she demanded me of my
+father with no small importunity. She assured him that she would take
+particular care of me, designing me for maid of honor to the princess.
+My father resisted. Doubtless it was God who caused this refusal, and
+thereby turned off the stroke which might have probably intercepted my
+salvation. Being so weak, how could I have withstood the temptations
+and distractions of a court?
+
+I went back to the Ursulines where my good sister continued her
+affection. But as she was not the mistress of the boarders, and I was
+obliged sometimes to go along with them, I contracted bad habits. I
+became addicted to lying, peevishness and indevotion, passing whole
+days without thinking on God; though He watched continually over me, as
+the sequel will manifest. I did not remain long under the power of such
+habits because my sister's care recovered me. I loved much to hear of
+God, was not weary of church, loved to pray, had tenderness for the
+poor, and a natural dislike for persons whose doctrine was judged
+unsound. God has always continued to me this grace, in my greatest
+infidelities.
+
+There was at the end of the garden connected with this convent, a
+little chapel dedicated to the child Jesus. To this I betook myself for
+devotion and, for some time, carrying my breakfast thither every
+morning, I hid it all behind this image. I was so much a child, that I
+thought I made a considerable sacrifice in depriving myself of it.
+Delicate in my choice of food, I wished to mortify myself, but found
+self-love still too prevalent, to submit to such mortification. When
+they were cleaning out this chapel, they found behind the image what I
+had left there and presently guessed that it was I. They had seen me
+every day going thither. I believe that God, who lets nothing pass
+without a recompense, soon rewarded me with interest for this little
+infantine devotion.
+
+I continued some time with my sister, where I retained the love and
+fear of God. My life was easy; I was educated agreeably with her. I
+improved much while I had my health, but very often I was sick, and
+seized with maladies as sudden as they were uncommon. In the evening
+well; in the morning swelled and full of bluish marks, symptoms of a
+fever which soon followed. At nine years, I was taken with so violent a
+hemorrhage that they thought I was going to die. I was rendered
+exceedingly weak.
+
+A little before this severe attack, my other sister became jealous,
+wanting to have me in turn. Though she led a good life, yet she had not
+a talent for the education of children. At first she caressed me, but
+all her caresses made no impression upon my heart. My other sister did
+more with a look, than she with either caresses or threatenings. As she
+saw that I loved her not so well, she changed to rigorous treatment.
+She would not allow me to speak to my other sister. When she knew I had
+spoken to her, she had me whipped, or beat me herself. I could no
+longer hold out against severe usage, and therefore requited with
+apparent ingratitude all the favors of my paternal sister, going no
+more to see her. But this did not hinder her from giving me marks of
+her usual goodness, in the severe malady just mentioned. She kindly
+construed my ingratitude to be rather owing to my fear of chastisement,
+than to a bad heart. Indeed, I believe this was the only instance in
+which fear of chastisement operated so powerfully upon me. From that
+time I suffered more in occasioning pain to One I loved, than in
+suffering myself at their hand.
+
+Thou knowest, O my Beloved, that it was not the dread of Thy
+chastisements that sunk so deep, either into my understanding or my
+heart; it was the sorrow for offending Thee which ever constituted the
+whole of my distress; which was so great. I imagine if there were
+neither Heaven nor Hell, I should always have retained the same fear of
+displeasing Thee. Thou knowest that after my faults, when, in forgiving
+mercy, Thou wert pleased to visit my soul, Thy caresses were a
+thousand-fold more insupportable than Thy rod.
+
+My father being informed of all that passed, took me home again. I was
+nearly ten years of age. I stayed only a little while at home. A nun of
+the order of St. Dominie, of a great family, one of my father's
+intimate friends, solicited him to place me in her convent. She was the
+prioress and promised she would take care of me and make me lodge in
+her room. This lady had conceived a great affection for me. She was so
+taken up with her community, in its many troublesome events that she
+was not at liberty to take much care of me. I had the chickenpox, which
+made me keep to my bed three weeks, in which I had very bad care,
+though my father and mother thought I was under excellent care. The
+ladies of the house had such a dread of the smallpox, as they imagined
+mine to be, that they would not come near me. I passed almost all the
+time without seeing anybody. A lay-sister who only brought me my
+allowance of diet at the set hours immediately went off again. I
+providentially found a Bible and having both a fondness for reading and
+a happy memory, I spent whole days in reading it from morning to night.
+I learned entirely the historical part. Yet I was really very unhappy
+in this house. The other boarders, being large girls, distressed me
+with grievous persecutions. I was so much neglected, as to food, that I
+became quite emaciated.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+
+After about eight months, my father took me home. My mother kept me
+more with her, beginning to have a higher regard for me than before.
+She still preferred my brother; every one spoke of it. Even when I was
+sick and there was anything I liked, he demanded it. It was taken from
+me, and given to him, and he was in perfectly good health. One day he
+made me mount the top of the coach; then threw me down. By the fall I
+was very much bruised. At other times he beat me. But whatever he did,
+however wrong, it was winked at, or the most favorable construction was
+put upon it. This soured my temper. I had little disposition to do
+good, saying, "I was never the better for it."
+
+It was not then for Thee alone, O God, that I did good; since I ceased
+to do it, when it met not with such a reception from others as I
+wanted. Had I known how to make a right use of this thy crucifying
+conduct, I should have made a good progress. Far from turning me out of
+the way, it would have made me turn more wholly to Thee.
+
+I looked with jealous eyes on my brother, seeing the difference between
+him and me. Whatever he did was considered well; but if there were
+blame, it fell on me. My stepsisters by the mother, gained her goodwill
+by caressing him and persecuting me. True, I was bad. I relapsed into
+my former faults of lying and peevishness. With all these faults I was
+very tender and charitable to the poor. I prayed to God assiduously,
+loved to hear any one speak of Him and to read good books.
+
+I doubt not that you will be amazed at such a series of
+inconsistencies; but what succeeds will surprise you yet more, when you
+see this manner of acting gain ground with my years. As my reason
+ripened, it was so far from correcting this irrational conduct. Sin
+grew more powerful in me.
+
+O my God, thy grace seemed to be redoubled in proportion to the
+increase of my ingratitude! It was with me as with a city besieged,
+Thou didst surround my heart, and I only studied how to defend myself
+against thy attacks. I raised fortifications about the wretched place,
+adding every day to the number of my iniquities to prevent Thee taking
+it. When there was an appearance of Thy becoming victorious over this
+ungrateful heart, I raised a counter-battery, and threw up ramparts to
+keep off thy goodness, and to hinder the course of thy grace. None
+other could have conquered than Thyself.
+
+I cannot bear to hear it said, "We are not free to resist grace." I
+have had too long and fatal an experience of my liberty. I closed up
+the avenues of my heart, that I might not so much as hear that secret
+voice of God, which was calling me to Himself. I have indeed, from
+tenderest youth, passed through a series of grievances, either by
+maladies or by persecutions. The girl to whose care my mother left me,
+in arranging my hair used to beat me, and did not make me turn it
+except with rage and blows.
+
+Everything seemed to punish me, but this instead of making me turn unto
+Thee, O my God, only served to afflict and embitter my mind.
+
+My father knew nothing of all this; his love to me was such that he
+would not have suffered it. I loved him very much, but at the same time
+I feared him, so that I told him nothing of it. My mother was often
+teasing him with complaints of me, to which he made no other reply
+than, "There are twelve hours in the day; she'll grow wiser." This
+rigorous proceeding was not the worst for my soul, though it soured my
+temper, which was otherwise mild and easy. But what caused my greatest
+hurt was, that I chose to be among those who caressed me, in order to
+corrupt and spoil me.
+
+My father, seeing I was now grown tall, placed me in Lent among the
+Ursulines, to receive my first communion at Easter, at which time I was
+to complete my eleventh year. And here my most dear sister, under whose
+inspection my father placed me, redoubled her cares, to cause me to
+make the best preparation possible for this act of devotion. I thought
+now of giving myself to God in good earnest. I often felt a combat
+between my good inclinations and my bad habits. I even did some
+penances. As I was almost always with my sister, and as the boarders in
+her class, which was the first, were very reasonable and civil. I
+became such also, while among them. It had been cruel to educate me
+badly; for my very nature was strongly disposed to goodness. Easily won
+with mildness, I did with pleasure whatever my good sister desired. At
+length Easter arrived; I received the communion with much joy and
+devotion. In this house I staid until Whitsuntide. But as my other
+sister was mistress of the second class, she demanded that in her week
+I should be with her in that class. Her manners, so opposite to the
+other's, made me relax my former piety. I felt no more that new and
+delightful ardor which had seized my heart at my first communion. Alas!
+it held but a short time. My faults and failings were soon reiterated
+and drew me from the care and duties of religion.
+
+As I now grew very tall for my age, and more to my mother's liking than
+before, she took care to deck and dress me, to make me see company, and
+to take me abroad. She took an inordinate pride in that beauty with
+which God had formed me, to bless and praise Him. However it was
+perverted by me into a source of pride and vanity. Several suitors came
+to me; but as I was not yet twelve years my father would not listen to
+any proposals. I loved reading and shut myself up alone every day to
+read without interruption.
+
+What proved effectual to gain me entirely to God, at least for a time,
+was that a nephew of my father's passed by our home on a mission to
+Cochin China. I happened at that time to be taking a walk with my
+companions, which I seldom did. At my return he was gone. They gave me
+an account of his sanctity, and the things he had said, I was so
+touched that I was overcome with sorrow. I cried all the rest of the
+day and night. Early in the morning I went in great distress to seek my
+confessor. I said to him, "What! my father, am I the only person in our
+family to be lost? Alas; help me in my salvation." He was greatly
+surprised to see me so much afflicted, and comforted me in the best
+manner he could, not thinking me so bad as I was. In my backslidings I
+was docile, punctual in obedience, careful to confess often. Since I
+went to him my life was more regular.
+
+Oh, thou God of love, how often hast Thou knocked at the door of my
+heart! How often terrified me with appearances of sudden death! All
+these only made a transient impression. I presently returned again to
+my infidelities. This time thou didst take and quite carried off my
+heart. Alas, what grief I now sustained for having displeased Thee!
+what regrets, what exclamations, what sobbings! Who would have thought,
+to see me, but that my conversion would have lasted as long as my life?
+Why didst thou not, O my God, utterly take this heart to thyself, when
+I gave it to Thee so fully. Or, if Thou didst take it then, oh, why
+didst Thou let it revolt again? Thou wast surely strong enough to hold
+it, but Thou wouldst perhaps, in leaving me to myself, display thy
+mercy that the depth of my iniquity might serve as a trophy to thy
+goodness.
+
+I immediately applied myself to every part of my duty. I made a general
+confession with great compunction of heart. I frankly confessed all
+that I knew with many tears. I became so changed that I was scarcely
+known. I would not for ever so much made the least voluntary slip. They
+found not any matter for absolution when I confessed. I discovered the
+very smallest faults and God did me the favor to enable me to conquer
+myself in many things. There were left only some remains of passion,
+which gave me some trouble to conquer. But as soon as I had by means
+thereof, given any displeasure, even to the domestics, I begged their
+pardon, in order to subdue my wrath and pride; for wrath is the
+daughter of pride. A person truly humbled permits not anything to put
+him in a rage. As it is pride which dies the last in the soul, so it is
+passion which is last destroyed in the outward conduct. A soul
+thoroughly dead to itself, finds nothing of rage left.
+
+There are persons who, being very much filled with grace and with
+peace, at their entrance of the resigned path of light and love, think
+they are come thus far. But they are greatly mistaken, in this view of
+their state. This they will readily discover, if they are heartily
+willing to examine two things. First, if their nature is lively, warm
+and violent, (I speak not of stupid tempers) they will find, from time
+to time, that they make slips, in which trouble and emotion have some
+share. Even then they are useful to humble and annihilate them. (But
+when annihilation is perfected all passion is gone--it is incompatible
+with this state.) They will find that there often arises in them
+certain motions of anger, but the sweetness of grace holds them back.
+They would easily transgress, if in any wise they gave way to these
+motions. There are persons who think themselves very mild because
+nothing thwarts them. It is not of such that I am speaking. Mildness
+which has never been put to the proof, is often only counterfeit. Those
+persons who, when unmolested, appear to be saints are no sooner
+exercised by vexing occurrences than there starts up in them a strange
+number of faults. They had thought them dead which only lay dormant
+because nothing awakened them.
+
+I followed my religious exercises. I shut myself up all day to read and
+pray. I gave all I had to the poor taking even linen to their houses. I
+taught them the catechism and when my parents dined out I made them eat
+with me and served them with great respect. I read the works of St.
+Francis de Sales and the life of Madam de Chantal. There I first
+learned what mental prayer was, and I besought my confessor to teach me
+that kind of prayer. As he did not, I used my own endeavors to practice
+it, though without success, as I then thought, because I could not
+exercise the imagination, I persuaded myself, that that prayer could
+not be made without forming to one's self certain ideas and reasoning
+much. This difficulty gave me no small trouble, for a long time. I was
+very assiduous and prayed earnestly to God to give me the gift of
+prayer. All that I saw in the life of M. de Chantal charmed me. I was
+so much a child, that I thought I ought to do everything I saw in it.
+All the vows she had made I made also. One day as I was reading that
+she had put the name of Jesus on her heart, to follow the counsel, "Set
+me as a seal upon thy heart." For this purpose she had taken a hot
+iron, whereupon the holy name was engraven. I was very much afflicted
+that I could not do the same. I decided to write that sacred and
+adorable name, in large characters, on paper, then with ribbons and a
+needle I fastened it to my skin in four places. In that position it
+continued a long time.
+
+After this, I turned all my thoughts to become a nun. Because the love
+which I had for St. Francis de Sales did not permit me to think of any
+other community than the one of which he was the founder, I frequently
+went to beg the nuns there to receive me into their convent. Often I
+stole out of my father's house to go and repeatedly solicit my
+admission there. Though it was what they eagerly desired, even as a
+temporal advantage, yet they never dared let me enter, as they very
+much feared my father, to whose fondness for me they were no strangers.
+
+There was at that house a niece of my father's, to whom I am under
+great obligations. Fortune had not been very favorable to her father.
+It had reduced her in some measure to depend on mine, to whom she made
+known my desire. Although he would not for anything in the world have
+hindered a right vocation, yet he could not hear of my design without
+shedding tears. As he happened at this time to be abroad, my cousin
+went to my confessor, to desire him to forbid my going to the
+visitation. He dared not, however, do it plainly, for fear of drawing
+on himself the resentment of that community. I still wanted to be a
+nun, and importuned my mother excessively to take me to that house. She
+would not do it, for fear of grieving my father, who was absent.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+
+No sooner was my father returned home, than he became violently ill. My
+mother was at the same time indisposed in another part of the house. I
+was all alone with him, ready to render him every kind of service I was
+capable of, and to give him all the dutiful marks of a most sincere
+affection. I do not doubt but my assiduity was very agreeable to him. I
+performed the most menial offices unperceived by him taking the time
+for it when the servants were not at hand; as well to mortify myself as
+to pay due honor to what Jesus Christ said, that He came not to be
+ministered to, but to minister. When father made me read to him, I read
+with such heartfelt devotion that he was surprised. I remembered the
+instruction my sister had given me, and the ejaculatory prayers and
+praises I had learned.
+
+She had taught me to praise Thee, O my God, in all Thy works. All that
+I saw called upon me to render Thee homage. If it rained, I wished
+every drop to be changed into love and praises. My heart was nourished
+insensibly with Thy love; and my spirit was incessantly engrossed with
+the remembrance of Thee. I seemed to join and partake in all the good
+that was done in the world, and could have wished to have the united
+hearts of all men to love Thee. This habit rooted itself so strongly in
+me, that I retained it throughout my greatest wanderings.
+
+My cousin helped not a little, to support me in these good sentiments;
+I was often with her, and loved her, as she took great care of me, and
+treated me with much gentleness. Her fortune being equal neither to her
+birth nor her virtue, she did with charity and affection what her
+condition obliged her to do. My mother grew jealous, fearing I should
+love my cousin too well and herself too little. She who had left me in
+my young years to the care of her maids, and since that to my own, only
+requiring if I was in the house. Troubling herself no further, now
+required me always to stay with her, and never suffered me to be with
+my cousin but with great reluctance. My cousin fell ill. My mother took
+that occasion to send her home, which was a very severe stroke to my
+heart, as well as to that grace which began to dawn in me.
+
+My mother was a very virtuous woman. She was one of the most charitable
+women of her age. She not only gave the surplus, but even the
+necessities of the house. Never were the needy neglected. Never any
+wretched one came to her without succor. She furnished poor mechanics
+wherewith to carry on their work, and needy tradesmen wherewith to
+supply their shops. From her, I think, I inherited my charity and love
+for the poor. God favored me with the blessing of being her successor
+in that holy exercise. There was not one in the town, or its environs,
+who did not praise her for this virtue. She sometimes gave to the last
+penny in the house, though she had a large family to maintain, and yet
+she did not fail in her faith.
+
+My mother's only care about me had been all along to have me in the
+house, which indeed is one material point for a girl. This habit of
+being so constantly kept within, proved of great service after my
+marriage. It would have been better had she kept me more in her own
+apartment, with an agreeable freedom and inquired oftener what part of
+the house I was in.
+
+After my cousin left me, God granted me the grace to forgive injuries
+with such readiness, that my confessor was surprised. He knew that some
+young ladies had, out of envy, traduced me and that I spoke well of
+them as occasion offered. I was seized with an ague, which lasted four
+months, in which I suffered much. During that time, I was enabled to
+suffer with much resignation and patience. In this frame of mind and
+manner of life I persevered, so long as I continued the practice of
+mental prayer.
+
+Later we went to pass some days in the country. My father took along
+with us one of his relations, a very accomplished young gentleman. He
+had a great desire to marry me; but my father, resolved not to give me
+to any near kinsman on account of the difficulty obtaining
+dispensations, put him off, without alleging any false or frivolous
+reasons for it. As this young gentleman was very devout, and every day
+said the office of the Virgin, I said it with him. To have time for it,
+I left off prayer which was to me the first inlet of evils. Yet, I kept
+up for a long time some share of the spirit of piety; for I went to
+seek out the little shepherdesses, to instruct them in their religious
+duties. This spirit gradually decayed, not being nourished by prayer. I
+became cold toward God. All my old faults revived to which I added an
+excessive vanity. The love I began to have for myself extinguished what
+remained in me of the love of God.
+
+I did not wholly leave off mental prayer, without asking my confessor's
+leave. I told him I thought it better to say the office of the Virgin
+every day than to practice prayer; I had not time for both. I saw not
+that this was a stratagem of the enemy to draw me from God, to entangle
+me in the snares he had laid for me. I had time sufficient for both, as
+I had no other occupation than what I prescribed to myself. My
+confessor was easy in the matter. Not being a man of prayer he gave his
+consent to my great hurt.
+
+Oh, my God, if the value of prayer were but known, the great advantage
+which accrues to the soul from conversing with Thee, and what
+consequence it is of to salvation, everyone would be assiduous in it.
+It is a stronghold into which the enemy cannot enter. He may attack it,
+besiege it, make a noise about its walls; but while we are faithful and
+hold our station, he cannot hurt us. It is alike requisite to dictate
+to children the necessity of prayer as of their salvation. Alas!
+unhappily, it is thought sufficient to tell them that there is a Heaven
+and a Hell; that they must endeavor to avoid the latter and attain the
+former; yet they are not taught the shortest and easiest way of
+arriving at it. The only way to Heaven is prayer; a prayer of the
+heart, which every one is capable of, and not of reasonings which are
+the fruits of study, or exercise of the imagination, which, in filling
+the mind with wandering objects, rarely settle it; instead of warming
+the heart with love to God, they leave it cold and languishing. Let the
+poor come, let the ignorant and carnal come; let the children without
+reason or knowledge come, let the dull or hard hearts which can retain
+nothing come to the practice of prayer and they shall become wise.
+
+O ye great, wise and rich, have ye not a heart capable of loving what
+is proper for you and of hating what is destructive? Love the sovereign
+good, hate all evil, and ye will be truly wise. When ye love anyone, is
+it because ye know the reasons of love and its definitions? No,
+certainly. Ye love because your heart is formed to love what it finds
+amiable. Surely you cannot but know that there is nought lovely in the
+universe but God. Know ye not that He has created you, that He has died
+for you? But if these reasons are not sufficient, which of you has not
+some necessity, some trouble, or some misfortune? Which of you does not
+know how to tell his malady, and beg relief? Come, then, to this
+Fountain of all good, without complaining to weak and impotent
+creatures, who cannot help you; come to prayer; lay before God your
+troubles, beg His grace--and above all, that you may love Him. None can
+exempt himself from loving; for none can live without a heart, nor the
+heart without love.
+
+Why should any amuse themselves, in seeking reasons for loving Love
+itself? Let us love without reasoning about it, and we shall find
+ourselves filled with love, before the others have learned the reasons
+which induced to it. Make trial of this love, and you will be wiser in
+it than the most skillful philosophers. In love, as in everything else,
+experience instructs better than reasoning. Come then, drink at this
+fountain of living waters, instead of the broken cisterns of the
+creature, which far from allaying your thirst, only tend continually to
+augment it. Did ye once drink at this fountain, ye would not seek
+elsewhere for anything to quench your thirst; for while ye still
+continue to draw from this source, ye would thirst no longer after the
+world. But if ye quit it, alas! the enemy has the ascendant. He will
+give you of his poisoned draughts, which may have an apparent
+sweetness, but will assuredly rob you of life.
+
+I forsook the fountain of living water when I left off prayer. I
+became as a vineyard exposed to pillage, hedges torn down with liberty
+to all the passengers to ravage it. I began to seek in the creature
+what I had found in God. He left me to myself, because I first left
+him. It was His will by permitting me to sink into the horrible pit, to
+make me feel the necessity I was in of approaching Him in prayer.
+
+Thou hast said, that Thou wilt destroy those adulterous souls who
+depart from Thee. Alas! it is their departure alone which causes their
+destruction, since, in departing from Thee, O Sun of Righteousness,
+they enter into the regions of darkness and the coldness of death, from
+which they would never rise, if Thou didst not revisit them. If Thou
+didst not by thy divine light, illuminate their darkness, and by thy
+enlivening warmth, melt their icy hearts, and restore them to life,
+they would never rise.
+
+I fell then into the greatest of all misfortunes. I wandered yet
+farther and farther from Thee, O my God, and thou didst gradually
+retire from a heart which had quitted Thee. Yet such is thy goodness,
+that it seemed as if Thou hadst left me with regret; and when this
+heart was desirous to return again unto Thee, with what speed didst
+Thou come to meet it. This proof of Thy love and mercy, shall be to me
+an everlasting testimony of thy goodness and of my own ingratitude.
+
+I became still more passionate than I had ever been, as age gave more
+force to nature. I was frequently guilty of lying. I felt my heart
+corrupt and vain. The spark of divine grace was almost extinguished in
+me, and I fell into a state of indifference and indevotion, though I
+still carefully kept up outside appearances. The habit I had acquired
+of behaving at church made me appear better than I was. Vanity, which
+had been excluded to my heart now resumed its seat. I began to pass a
+great part of my time before a looking glass. I found so much pleasure
+in viewing myself, that I thought others were in the right who
+practiced the same. Instead of making use of this exterior, which God
+had given me, that I might love Him the more, it became to me only the
+means of a vain complacency. All seemed to me to look beautiful in my
+person, but I saw not that it covered a polluted soul. This rendered me
+so inwardly vain, that I doubt whether any ever exceeded me therein.
+There was an affected modesty in my outward deportment that would have
+deceived the world.
+
+The high esteem I had for myself made me find faults in everyone else
+of my own sex. I had no eyes but to see my own good qualities, and to
+discover the defects of others. I hid my own faults from myself, or if
+I remarked any, yet to me they appeared little in comparison of others.
+I excused, and even figured them to myself as perfections. Every idea I
+had of others and of myself was false. I loved reading to such excess,
+particularly romances, that I spent whole days and nights at them.
+Sometimes the day broke while I continued to read, insomuch, that for a
+length of time I almost lost the habit of sleeping. I was ever eager to
+get to the end of the book, in hopes of finding something to satisfy a
+certain craving which I found within me. My thirst for reading was only
+increased the more I read. Books are strange inventions to destroy
+youth. If they caused no other hurt than the loss of precious time, is
+not that too much? I was not restrained, but rather encouraged to read
+them under this fallacious pretext, that they taught one to speak well.
+
+Meanwhile, through thy abundant mercy, O my God, Thou camest to seek me
+from time to time, Thou didst indeed knock at the door of my heart. I
+was often penetrated with the most lively sorrow and shed abundance of
+tears. I was afflicted to find my state so different from what it was
+when I enjoyed Thy sacred presence; but my tears were fruitless and my
+grief in vain. I could not of myself get out of this wretched state. I
+wished some hand as charitable as powerful would extricate me; as for
+myself I had no power. If I had had any friend, who would have examined
+the cause of this evil, and made me have recourse again to prayer,
+which was the only means of relief, all would have been well. I was
+(like the prophet) in a deep abyss of mire, which I could not get out
+off. I met with reprimands for being in it, but none were kind enough
+to reach out to free me. And when I tried vain efforts to get out, I
+only sunk the deeper, and each fruitless attempt only made me see my
+own impotence, and rendered me more afflicted.
+
+Oh, how much compassion has this sad experience given me for sinners.
+It has taught me why so few of them emerge from the miserable state
+into which they have fallen. Such as see it only cry out against their
+disorders, and frighten them with threats of future punishment! These
+cries and threats at first make some impression, and they use some weak
+efforts after liberty, but, after having experienced their
+insufficiency, they gradually abate in their design, and lose their
+courage for trying any more. All that man can say to them afterward is
+but lost labor, though one preach to them incessantly. When any for
+relief run to confess, the only true remedy for them is prayer; to
+present themselves before God as criminals, beg strength of Him to rise
+out of this state. Then would they soon be changed, and brought out of
+the mire and clay. But the devil has falsely persuaded the doctors and
+the wise men of the age, that, in order to pray, it is necessary first
+to be perfectly converted. Hence people are dissuaded from it, and
+hence there is rarely any conversion that is durable. The devil is
+outrageous only against prayer, and those that exercise it; because he
+knows it is the true means of taking his prey from him. He lets us
+undergo all the austerities we will. He neither persecutes those that
+enjoy them nor those that practice them. But no sooner does one enter
+into a spiritual life, a life of prayer, but they must prepare for
+strange crosses. All manner of persecutions and contempts in this world
+are reserved for that life.
+
+Miserable as the condition was to which I was reduced by my
+infidelities, and the little help I had from my confessor, I did not
+fail to say my vocal prayers every day, to confess pretty often, and to
+partake of the communion almost every fortnight. Sometimes I went to
+church to weep, and to pray to the Blessed Virgin to obtain my
+conversion. I loved to hear anyone speak of God, and would never tire
+of the conversation. When my father spoke of Him, I was transported
+with joy; and when he and my mother went on any pilgrimage, and were to
+set off early in the morning, I either did not go to bed the night
+before, or hired the girls to awake me early. My father's conversation
+at such times was always of divine matters, which afforded me the
+highest delight, and I preferred that subject to any other. I also
+loved the poor, and was charitable, even while I was so very faulty.
+How strange may this seem to some, and how hard to reconcile things so
+very opposite.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+
+Afterward we came to Paris where my vanity increased. No course was
+spared to make me appear to advantage. I was forward enough to show
+myself and expose my pride, in making a parade of this vain beauty. I
+wanted to be loved of everyone and to love none. Several apparently
+advantageous offers of marriage were made for me; but God unwilling to
+have me lost did not permit matters to succeed. My father still found
+difficulties, which my all-wise Creator raised for my salvation. Had I
+married any of these persons, I should have been much exposed, and my
+vanity would have had means to extend itself.
+
+There was one person who had asked for me in marriage for several
+years. My father, for family reasons, had always refused him. His
+manners were opposite to my vanity. A fear lest I should leave my
+country, together with the affluent circumstances of this gentleman,
+induced my father, in spite of both his own and my mother's reluctance,
+to promise me to him. This was done without consulting me. They made me
+sign the marriage articles without letting me know what they were. I
+was well pleased with the thoughts of marriage, flattering myself with
+a hope of being thereby set at full liberty, and delivered from the
+ill-treatment of my mother which I drew upon myself. God ordered it far
+otherwise. The condition which I found myself in afterward, frustrated
+my hopes.
+
+Pleasing as marriage was to my thoughts, I was all the time, after my
+being promised, and even long after my marriage, in extreme confusion,
+which arose from two causes. First, my natural modesty, which I did not
+lose. I had much reserve toward men. The other, my vanity. Though the
+husband provided was a more advantageous match than I merited, yet I
+did not think him such. The figure which the others made, who had
+offered to me before, was vastly more engaging. Their rank would have
+placed me in view. Whatever did not flatter my vanity, was to me
+insupportable. Yet this very vanity was, I think, of some advantage; it
+hindered me from falling into such things as cause the ruin of
+families. I would not do anything which in the eye of the world, might
+render me culpable. As I was modest at church and had not been used to
+go abroad without my mother, as the reputation of our house was great,
+I passed for virtuous.
+
+I did not see my spouse elect (at Paris) till two or three days before
+our marriage. I caused masses to be said all the time after my being
+contracted, to know the will of God. I wished to do it in this affair
+at least.
+
+Oh, my God, how great was thy goodness, to bear with me at this time,
+and to allow me to pray to Thee with as much boldness, as if I had been
+one of thy friends, I who had rebelled against Thee as thy greatest
+enemy.
+
+The joy of our nuptials was universal through our village. Amid this
+general rejoicing, there appeared none sad but myself. I could neither
+laugh as others did, nor even eat; so much was I depressed. I knew not
+the cause. It was a foretaste which God gave me of what was to befall
+me. The remembrance of the desire I had of being a nun, came pouring
+in. All who came to compliment me, the day after, could not forbear
+rallying me. I wept bitterly. I answered, "Alas! I had desired so much
+to be a nun; why then am I now married? By what fatality has such a
+revolution befallen me?" No sooner was I at the house of my new spouse,
+than I perceived that it would be for me a house of mourning.
+
+I was obliged to change my conduct. Their manner of living was very
+different from that in my father's house. My mother-in-law, who had
+long been a widow, regarded nothing else but economy. At my father's
+house they lived in a noble manner and great elegance. What my husband
+and mother-in-law called pride, and I called politeness, was observed
+there. I was very much surprised at this change, and so much the more,
+as my vanity wished to increase, rather than to be diminished.
+
+At the time of my marriage I was a little past fifteen years of age. My
+surprise increased greatly, when I saw I must lose what I had acquired
+with so much application. At my father's house we were obliged to
+behave in a genteel way, and to speak with propriety. All that I said
+was applauded. Here they never hearkened to me, but to contradict and
+find fault. If I spoke well, they said it was to give them a lesson. If
+any questions were started at my father's, he encouraged me to speak
+freely. Here, if I spoke my sentiments, they said it was to enter into
+a dispute. They put me to silence in an abrupt and shameful manner, and
+scolded me from morning till night.
+
+I should have some difficulty to give you an account, which cannot be
+done without wounding charity, if you had not forbidden me to omit any
+one. I request you not to look at things on the side of the creature,
+which would make these persons appear worse than they were. My
+mother-in-law had virtue, my husband had religion, and not any vice. It
+is requisite to look at everything on the side of God. He permitted
+these things only for my salvation, and because He would not have me
+lost. I had beside so much pride, that had I received any other
+treatment, I should have continued therein, and should not, perhaps,
+have turned to God as I was induced to do, by the oppression of a
+multitude of crosses.
+
+My mother-in-law conceived such a desire to oppose me in everything,
+that, in order to vex me, she made me perform the most humiliating
+offices. Her disposition was so extraordinary, having never surmounted
+it in her youth, that she could hardly live with anybody. Saying none
+than vocal prayers, she did not see this fault; or seeing it, and not
+drawing from the forces of prayer, she could not get the better of it.
+It was a pity, for she had both sense and merit. I was made the victim
+of her humors. All her occupation was to thwart me and she inspired the
+like sentiments in her son. They would make persons my inferiors take
+place above me. My mother, who had a high sense of honor, could not
+endure that. When she heard it from others (for I told her nothing) she
+chided me thinking I did it because I did not know how to keep my rank
+and had no spirit. I dared not tell her how it was; but I was almost
+ready to die with the agonies of grief and continual vexation. What
+aggravated all was the remembrance of the persons who had proposed for
+me, the difference of their dispositions and manners, the love they had
+for me, with their agreeableness and politeness. All this made my
+burden intolerable. My mother-in-law upbraided me in regard to my
+family, and spoke to me incessantly to the disadvantage of my father
+and mother. I never went to see them, but I had some bitter speeches to
+bear on my return.
+
+My mother complained that I did not come often enough to see her. She
+said I did not love her, that I was alienated from my family by being
+too much attached to my husband.
+
+What augmented my crosses was that my mother related to my
+mother-in-law the pains I had cost her from infancy. They then
+reproached me, saying, I was a changeling, and an evil spirit. My
+husband obliged me to stay all day long in my mother-in-law's room,
+without any liberty of retiring into my own apartment. She spoke
+disadvantageously of me, to lessen the affection and esteem which some
+had entertained for me. She galled me with the grossest affronts before
+the finest company. This did not have the effect she wanted; the more
+patiently they saw me bear it, the higher esteem they had for me.
+
+She found the secret of extinguishing my vivacity, and rendering me
+stupid. Some of my former acquaintances hardly knew me. Those who had
+not seen me before said, "Is this the person famed for such abundance
+of wit? She can't say two words. She is a fine picture." I was not yet
+sixteen years old. I was so much intimidated, that I dared not go out
+without my mother-in-law, and in her presence I could not speak. I knew
+not what I said; so much fear had I.
+
+To complete my affliction, they presented me with a waiting-maid who
+was everything with them. She kept me in sight like a governess. For
+the most part I bore with patience these evils which I had no way to
+avoid. But sometimes I let some hasty answer escape me, a source of
+grievous crosses to me. When I went out, the footmen had orders to give
+an account of everything I did. It was then I began to eat the bread of
+sorrows, and to mingle tears with my drink. At the table they always
+did something which covered me with confusion. I could not forbear
+tears. I had no one to confide in who might share my affliction, and
+assist me to bear it. When I would impart some hint of it to my mother,
+I drew upon myself new crosses. I resolved to have no confidant. It was
+not from any natural cruelty that my husband treated me thus; he loved
+me passionately, but he was warm and hasty, and my mother-in-law
+continually irritated him about me.
+
+It was in a condition so deplorable, O my God, that I began to perceive
+the need I had of Thy assistance. For this situation was perilous for
+me. I met with none but admirers abroad, those that flattered me to my
+hurt. It were to be feared lest at such a tender age, amid all the
+strange domestic crosses I had to bear, I might be drawn away. But
+Thou, by Thy goodness and love, gave it quite another turn. By these
+redoubled strokes Thou didst draw me to Thyself, and by Thy crosses
+effected what Thy caresses could not effect. Nay, Thou madest use of my
+natural pride, to keep me within the limits of my duty. I knew that a
+woman of honor ought never to give suspicion to her husband. I was so
+very circumspect that I often carried it to excess, so far as to refuse
+my hand to such as in politeness offered me theirs. There happened to
+me an adventure which, by carrying my prudence too far, might have
+ruined me, for things were taken contrary to their intent. My husband
+was sensible both of my innocence and of the falsehood of the
+insinuations of my mother-in-law.
+
+Such weighty crosses made me return to God. I began to deplore the sins
+of my youth. Since my marriage I had not committed any voluntarily. Yet
+I still had some sentiments of vanity remaining, which I did not wish.
+However, my troubles now counter-balanced them. Moreover, many of them
+appeared my just dessert according to the little light I then had. I
+was not illuminated to penetrate the essence of my vanity; I fixed my
+thoughts only on its appearance. I tried to amend my life by penance,
+and by a general confession, the most exact that I ever yet had made. I
+laid aside the reading of romances, for which I lately had such a
+fondness. Though some time before my marriage that had been dampened by
+reading the Gospel, I was so much affected therewith, and discovered
+truth therein, that put me out of patience with all the other books.
+Novels appeared then to me only full of lies and deceit. I now put away
+even indifferent books, to have none but such as were profitable. I
+resumed the practice of prayer, and endeavored to offend God no more. I
+felt His love gradually recovering the ascendant in my heart, and
+banishing every other. Yet I had still an intolerable vanity and
+self-complacency, which has been my most grievous and obstinate sin.
+
+My crosses redoubled. What rendered them more painful was, that my
+mother-in-law, not content with the bitterest speeches which she
+uttered against me, both in public and private, would break out in
+anger about the smallest trifles, and scarcely be pacified for a
+fortnight. I used a part of my time in bewailing myself when I could be
+alone; and my grief became every day more bitter. Sometimes I could not
+contain myself, when the girls, my domestics, who owed me submission,
+treated me ill. I did what I could to subdue my temper which has cost
+me not a little.
+
+Such stunning blows so impaired the vivacity of my nature, that I
+became like a lamb that is shorn. I prayed to our Lord to assist me,
+and He was my refuge. As my age differed from theirs (for my husband
+was twenty-two years older than I) I saw well that there was no
+probability of changing their dispositions, which were fortified with
+years. I found that whatever I said was offensive, not excepting those
+things which others would have been pleased with.
+
+One day, weighed down with grief and in despair, about six months after
+I was married, being alone, I was tempted even to cut out my tongue so
+I might no longer irritate those who seized every word I uttered with
+rage and resentment.
+
+But Thou, O God, didst stop me short and showed me my folly. I prayed
+continually, and wished even to become dumb, so simple and ignorant was
+I. Though I have had my share of crosses, I never found any so
+difficult to support as that of perpetual contrariety without
+relaxation of doing all one can to please, without succeeding, but
+still offending by the very means designed to oblige. Being kept with
+such persons, in a most severe confinement, from morning till night,
+without ever daring to quit them is most difficult. I have found that
+great crosses overwhelm, and stifle all anger. Such a continual
+contrariety irritates and stirs up sourness in the heart. It has such
+strange effect, that it requires the utmost efforts of self-restraint,
+not to break out into vexation and rage.
+
+My condition in marriage was rather that of a slave than of a free
+person. I perceived, four months after my marriage, that my husband was
+gouty. This malady caused many crosses within and without. He had the
+gout twice the first year, six weeks each time. He was so much plagued
+with it, that he came no more out of his room, nor out of his bed. He
+was in bed usually for several months. I carefully attended him
+although so very young. I did not fail to exert myself to the utmost in
+the performance of my duty. Alas! all this did not gain me friendship.
+I had not the consolation to know whether what I did was agreeable. I
+denied myself all the most innocent diversions to continue with my
+husband. I did whatever I thought would please him. Sometimes he
+quietly suffered me, and then I esteemed myself very happy. At other
+times I seemed insupportable to him. My particular friends said, "I was
+of a fine age indeed to be a nurse to an invalid, and that it was a
+shameful thing that I did not set more value on my talents." I
+answered, "Since I have a husband, I ought to share his painful as well
+as his pleasing circumstances." Besides this, my mother, instead of
+pitying me, reprimanded me sharply for my assiduity to my husband.
+
+But, O my God, how different were Thy thoughts from theirs,--how
+different that which was without, from what passed within! My husband
+had that foible, that when anyone said anything to him against me, he
+flew into a rage at once. It was the conduct of providence over me; for
+he was a man of reason and loved me much. When I was sick, he was
+inconsolable. I believe, had it not been for my mother-in-law, and the
+girl I have spoken of, I should have been very happy with him. Most men
+have their moods and emotions, and it is the duty of a reasonable woman
+to bear them peaceably, without irritating them more by cross replies.
+
+These things Thou hast ordered, O my God, in such a manner, by Thy
+goodness, that I have since seen it was necessary, to make me die to my
+vain and haughty nature. I should not have had power to destroy it
+myself, if thou hadst not accomplished it by an all-wise economy of thy
+providence. I prayed for patience with great earnestness; nevertheless,
+some sallies of my natural liveliness escaped me, and vanquished the
+resolutions I had taken of being silent. This was doubtless permitted,
+that my self-love might not be nourished by my patience. Even a
+moment's slip caused me months of humiliation, reproach and sorrow, and
+proved the occasion of new crosses.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+
+During the first year I was still vain. I sometimes lied to excuse
+myself to my husband and mother-in-law. I stood strangely in awe of
+them. Sometimes I fell into a temper, their conduct appeared so very
+unreasonable, and especially their countenancing the most provoking
+treatment of the girl who served me. As to my mother-in-law, her age
+and rank rendered her conduct more tolerable.
+
+But Thou, O my God, opened my eyes to see things in a very different
+light. I found in Thee reasons for suffering, which I had never found
+in the creature. I afterward saw clearly and reflected with joy, that
+this conduct, as unreasonable as it seemed, and as mortifying as it
+was, was quite necessary for me. Had I been applauded here as I was at
+my father's, I should have grown intolerably proud. I had a fault
+common to most of our sex--I could not hear a beautiful woman praised,
+without finding fault, to lessen the good which was said of her. This
+fault continued long, and was the fruit of gross and malignant pride.
+Extravagantly extolling anyone proceeds from a like source.
+
+Just before the birth of my first child, they were induced to take
+great care of me. My crosses were somewhat mitigated. Indeed, I was so
+ill that it was enough to excite the compassion of the most
+indifferent. They had so great a desire of having children to inherit
+their fortunes, that they were continually afraid lest I should any way
+hurt myself. Yet, when the time of my delivery drew near, this care and
+tenderness of me abated. Once, as my mother-in-law had treated me in a
+very grating manner, I had the malice to feign a cholic, to give them
+some alarm; but as I saw this little artifice gave them too much pain,
+I told them I was better. No creature could be more heavily laden with
+sickness than I was. Beside continual heavings, I had so strange a
+distaste, except for some fruit, that I could not bear the sight of
+food. I had continual swoonings and violent pains. After my delivery I
+continued weak a long time. There was indeed sufficient to exercise
+patience, and I was enabled to offer up my sufferings to our Lord. I
+took a fever, which rendered me so weak, that after several weeks I
+could scarcely bear to be moved or to have my bed made. When I began to
+recover, an abscess fell upon my breast, which was forced to be laid
+open in two places, which gave me great pain. Yet all the maladies
+seemed to me only a shadow of troubles, in comparison with those I
+suffered in the family which daily increased. Indeed, life was so
+wearisome to me, that those maladies which were thought mortal did not
+frighten me.
+
+The event improved my appearance, and consequently served to increase
+my vanity. I was glad to call forth expressions of regard. I went to
+the public promenades (though but seldom) and when in the streets, I
+pulled off my mask out of vanity. I drew off my gloves to show my
+hands. Could there be greater folly? After falling into these
+weaknesses, I used to weep bitterly at home. Yet, when occasion
+offered, I fell into them again.
+
+My husband lost considerably. This cost me strange crosses, not that I
+cared for the losses, but I seemed to be the butt of all the ill-humors
+of the family. With what pleasure did I sacrifice temporal blessings.
+How often I felt willing to have begged my bread, if God had so ordered
+it. But my mother-in-law was inconsolable. She bid me pray to God for
+these things. To me that was wholly impossible.
+
+O my dearest Lord, never could I pray to Thee about the world, or the
+things thereof; nor sully my sacred addresses to Thy majesty with the
+dirt of the earth. No; I rather wish to renounce it all, and everything
+beside whatsoever, for the sake of Thy love, and the enjoyment of Thy
+presence in that kingdom which is not of this world. I wholly
+sacrificed myself to Thee, even earnestly begging Thee rather to reduce
+our family to beggary, than suffer it to offend thee.
+
+In my own mind I excused my mother-in-law, saying to myself, "If I had
+taken the pains to scrape and save, I would not be so indifferent at
+seeing so much lost. I enjoy what cost me nothing, and reap what I have
+not sowed." Yet all these thoughts could not make me sensible to our
+losses. I even formed agreeable ideas of our going to the hospital. No
+state appeared to me so poor and miserable, which I should not have
+thought easy, in comparison with the continual domestic persecutions I
+underwent. My father, who loved me tenderly, and whom I honored beyond
+expression, knew nothing of it. God so permitted it, that I should have
+him also displeased with me for some time. My mother was continually
+telling him that I was an ungrateful creature, showing no regard for
+them, but all for my husband's family. Appearances were against me. I
+did not go to see them as often as I should. They knew not the
+captivity I was in; what I was obliged to bear in defending them. These
+complaints of my mother, and a trivial affair that fell out, lessened a
+little my father's fond regard for me; but it did not last long. My
+mother-in-law reproached me, saying, "No afflictions befell them till I
+came into the house. All misfortunes came with me." On the other hand
+my mother wanted me to exclaim against my husband which I could never
+submit to do.
+
+We continued to meet with loss after loss, the king retrenching a
+considerable share of our revenues, besides great sums of money, which
+we lost by L'Hotel de Ville. I could have no rest or peace, in such
+great afflictions. I had no mortal to console me, or to advise me. My
+sister, who had educated me, had departed this life. She died two
+months before my marriage. I had no other for a confidant.
+
+I declare, that I find much repugnance in saying so many things of my
+mother-in-law. I have no doubt that my own indiscretion, my caprice,
+and the occasional sallies of a warm temper, drew many of the crosses
+upon me. Although I had what the world calls patience, yet I had
+neither a relish nor love for the cross. Their conduct toward me, which
+appeared so unreasonable, should not be looked upon with worldly eyes.
+We should look higher and then we shall see that it was directed by
+Providence for my eternal advantage.
+
+I now dressed my hair in the most modest manner, never painted, and to
+subdue the vanity which still had possession of me, I rarely looked in
+the glass. My reading was confined to books of devotion, such as Thomas
+a'Kempis, and the works of St. Francis de Sales. I read these aloud for
+the improvement of the servants, while the maid was dressing my hair. I
+suffered myself to be dressed just as she pleased, which freed me from
+a great deal of trouble. It took away the occasions wherein my vanity
+used to be exercised. I knew not how things were; but they always liked
+me, and thought all well in point of dress. If on some particular days
+I wanted to appear better, it proved worse. The more indifferent I was
+about dress the better I appeared. How often have I gone to church, not
+so much to worship God as to be seen. Other women, jealous of me,
+affirmed that I painted; they told my confessor, who chided me for it,
+though I assured him I was innocent. I often spoke in my own praise,
+and sought to raise myself by depreciating others. Yet these faults
+gradually deceased; for I was very sorry afterward for having committed
+them. I often examined myself very strictly, writing down my faults
+from week to week, and from month to month, to see how much I was
+improved or reformed. Alas! this labor, though fatiguing, was of but
+little service, because I trusted in my own efforts. I wished indeed to
+be reformed, but my good desires were weak and languid.
+
+At one time my husband's absence was so long, and in the meantime my
+crosses and vexations at home so great, that I determined to go to him.
+My mother-in-law strongly opposed it. This once my father interfering,
+and insisting on it, she let me go. On my arrival I found he had almost
+died. Through vexation and fretting he was very much changed. He could
+not finish his affairs, having no liberty in attending to them, keeping
+himself concealed at the Hotel de Longueville, where Madame de
+Longueville was extremely kind to me. I came publicly, and he was in
+great fear lest I should make him known. In a rage he bid me return
+home. Love and my long absence from him surmounting every other reason,
+he soon relented and suffered me to stay with him. He kept me eight
+days without letting me stir out of his sight. Fearing the effects of
+such a close confinement on my constitution, he desired me to go and
+take a walk in the garden. There I met Madame de Longueville, who
+testified great joy on seeing me.
+
+I cannot express all the kindness I met with in this house. All the
+domestics served me with emulation, and applauded me on account of my
+appearance, and exterior deportment. Yet I was much on my guard against
+too much attention. I never entered into discourse with any man when
+alone. I admitted none into my coach, not even my relations, unless my
+husband were in it. There was not any rule of discretion which I did
+not duly observe, to avoid giving suspicion to my husband, or subject
+of calumny to others. Everyone studied there how to contribute to
+divert or oblige me. Outwardly everything appeared agreeable. Chagrin
+had so overcome and ruffled my husband that I had continually something
+to bear. Sometimes he threatened to throw the supper out of the
+windows. I said, he would then do me an injury, as I had a keen
+appetite. I made him laugh and I laughed with him. Before that,
+melancholy prevailed over all my endeavors, and over the love he had
+for me. God both armed me with patience and gave me the grace to return
+him no answer. The devil, who attempted to draw me into some offence,
+was forced to retire in confusion, through the signal assistance of
+that grace.
+
+I loved my God and was unwilling to displease Him, and I was inwardly
+grieved on account of that vanity, which still I found myself unable to
+eradicate. Inward distresses, together with oppressive crosses, which I
+had daily to encounter, at length threw me into sickness. As I was
+unwilling to incommode the Hotel de Longueville I had myself moved to
+another house. The disease proved violent and tedious, insomuch that
+the physicians despaired of my life. The priest, a pious man, seemed
+fully satisfied with the state of my mind. He said, "I should die like
+a saint." But my sins were too present and too painful to my heart to
+have such presumption. At midnight they administered the sacrament to
+me as they hourly expected my departure. It was a scene of general
+distress in the family and among all who knew me. There were none
+indifferent to my death but myself. I beheld it without fear, and was
+insensible to its approach. It was far otherwise with my husband. He
+was inconsolable when he saw there was no hope. I no sooner began to
+recover, than notwithstanding all his love, his usual fretfulness
+returned. I recovered almost miraculously and to me this disorder
+proved a great blessing. Beside a very great patience under violent
+pains, it served to instruct me much in my view of the emptiness of all
+worldly things. It detached me from myself and gave me new courage to
+suffer better than I had done. The love of God gathered strength in my
+heart, with a desire to please and be faithful to Him in my condition.
+I reaped several other advantages from it which I need not relate, I
+had yet six months to drag along with a slow fever. It was thought that
+it would terminate in death.
+
+Thy time, O my God, had not yet arrived for taking me to Thyself. Thy
+designs over me were widely different from the expectations of those
+about me; it being Thy determination to make me both the object of Thy
+mercy and the victim of Thy justice.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+
+After long languishing, at length I regained my former health. About
+this time my dear mother departed this life in great tranquility of
+mind. Beside her other good qualities, she had been particularly
+charitable to the poor. This virtue, so acceptable to God, He was
+graciously pleased to commence rewarding even in this life. Though she
+was but twenty-four hours sick, she was made perfectly easy about
+everything that was near and dear to her in this world.
+
+I now applied myself to my duties, never failing to practice that of
+prayer twice a day. I watched over myself, to subdue my spirit
+continually. I went to visit the poor in their houses, assisting them
+in their distresses. I did (according to my understanding) all the good
+I knew.
+
+Thou, O my God, increased both my love and my patience, in proportion
+to my sufferings. I regretted not the temporal advantages with which my
+mother distinguished my brother above me. Yet they fell on me about
+that, as about everything else. I also had for some time a severe ague.
+I did not indeed serve Thee yet with that fervor which Thou didst give
+me soon after. For I would still have been glad to reconcile Thy love
+with the love of myself and of the creature. Unhappily I always found
+some who loved me, and whom I could not forbear wishing to please. It
+was not that I loved them, but it was for the love that I bore to
+myself.
+
+A lady, an exile, came to my father's house. He offered her an
+apartment which she accepted, and she stayed a long time. She was one
+of true piety and inward devotion. She had a great esteem for me,
+because I desired to love God. She remarked that I had the virtues of
+an active and bustling life; but I had not yet attained the simplicity
+of prayer which she experienced. Sometimes she dropped a word to me on
+that subject. As my time had not yet come, I did not understand her.
+Her example instructed me more than her words. I observed on her
+countenance something which marked a great enjoyment of the presence of
+God. By the exertion of studied reflection and thoughts I tried to
+attain it but to little purpose. I wanted to have, by my own efforts,
+what I could not acquire except by ceasing from all efforts.
+
+My father's nephew, of whom I have made mention before, was returned
+from Cochin China, to take over some priests from Europe. I was
+exceedingly glad to see him, and remembered what good he had done me.
+The lady mentioned was no less rejoiced than I. They understood each
+other immediately and conversed in a spiritual language. The virtue of
+this excellent relation charmed me. I admired his continual prayer
+without being able to comprehend it. I endeavored to meditate, and to
+think on God without intermission, to utter prayers and ejaculations. I
+could not acquire, by all my toil, what God at length gave me Himself,
+and which is experienced only in simplicity. My cousin did all he could
+to attach me more strongly to God. He conceived great affection for me.
+The purity he observed in me from the corruptions of the age, the
+abhorrence of sin at a time of life when others are beginning to relish
+the pleasures of it, (I was not yet eighteen), gave him a great
+tenderness for me. I complained to him of my faults ingenuously. These
+I saw clearly. He cheered and exhorted me to support myself, and to
+persevere in my good endeavors. He would fain have introduced me into a
+more simple manner of prayer, but I was not yet ready for it. I believe
+his prayers were more effectual than his words.
+
+No sooner was he gone out of my father's house, than thou, O Divine
+Love, manifested thy favor. The desire I had to please Thee, the tears
+I shed, the manifold pains I underwent, the labors I sustained, and the
+little fruit I reaped from them, moved Thee with compassion. This was
+the state of my soul when Thy goodness, surpassing all my vileness and
+infidelities, and abounding in proportion to my wretchedness, granted
+me in a moment, what all my own efforts could never procure. Beholding
+me rowing with laborious toil, the breath of Thy divine operations
+turned in my favor, and carried me full sail over this sea of
+affliction.
+
+I had often spoken to my confessor about the great anxiety it gave me
+to find I could not meditate, nor exert my imagination in order to
+pray. Subjects of prayer which were too extensive were useless to me.
+Those which were short and pithy suited me better.
+
+At length, God permitted a very religious person, of the order of St.
+Francis, to pass by my father's dwelling. He had intended going another
+way that was shorter, but a secret power changed his design. He saw
+there was something for him to do, and imagined that God had called him
+for the conversion of a man of some distinction in that country. His
+labors there proved fruitless. It was the conquest of my soul which was
+designed. As soon as he arrived he came to see my father who rejoiced
+at his coming. At this time I was about to be delivered of my second
+son, and my father was dangerously ill, expected to die. For some time
+they concealed his sickness from me. An indiscreet person abruptly told
+me. Instantly I arose, weak as I was, and went to see him. A dangerous
+illness came upon me. My father was recovered, but not entirely, enough
+to give me new marks of his affection. I told him of the strong desire
+I had to love God, and my great sorrow at not being able to do it
+fully. He thought he could not give me a more solid indication of his
+love than in procuring me an acquaintance with this worthy man. He told
+me what he knew of him, and urged me to go and see him.
+
+At first I made a difficulty of doing it, being intent on observing the
+rules of the strictest prudence. However, my father's repeated requests
+had with me the weight of a positive command. I thought I could not do
+that amiss, which I only did in obedience to him. I took a kinswoman
+with me. At first he seemed a little confused; for he was reserved
+toward women. Being newly come out of a five years' solitude, he was
+surprised that I was the first to address him. He spoke not a word for
+some time. I knew not to what attribute his silence. I did not hesitate
+to speak to him, and to tell him a few words, my difficulties about
+prayer. Presently he replied, "It is, madame, because you seek without
+what you have within. Accustom yourself to seek God in your heart, and
+you will there find Him."
+
+Having said these words, he left me. They were to me like the stroke of
+a dart, which penetrated through my heart. I felt a very deep wound, a
+wound so delightful that I desired not to be cured. These words brought
+into my heart what I had been seeking so many years. Rather they
+discovered to me what was there, and which I had not enjoyed for want
+of knowing it.
+
+O my Lord, Thou wast in my heart, and demanded only a simple turning of
+my mind inward, to make me perceive Thy presence. Oh, Infinite
+Goodness! how was I running hither and thither to seek Thee, my life
+was a burden to me, although my happiness was within myself. I was poor
+in riches, and ready to perish with hunger, near a table plentifully
+spread, and a continual feast. O Beauty, ancient and new; why have I
+known Thee so late? Alas! I sought Thee where Thou wert not, and did
+not seek Thee where thou wert. It was for want of understanding these
+words of Thy Gospel, "The kingdom of God cometh not with observation...
+The kingdom of God is within you." This I now experienced. Thou
+becamest my King, and my heart Thy kingdom, wherein Thou didst reign
+supreme, and performed all Thy sacred will.
+
+I told this man, that I did not know what he had done to me, that my
+heart was quite changed, that God was there. He had given me an
+experience of His presence in my soul; not by thought or any
+application of mind, but as a thing really possessed after the sweetest
+manner. I experienced these words in the Canticles (Song of Solomon):
+"Thy name is as precious ointment poured forth; therefore do the
+virgins love thee." I felt in my soul an unction which, as a salutary
+balsam, healed in a moment all my wounds.
+
+I slept not that whole night, because Thy love, O my God, flowed in me
+like a delicious oil, and burned as a fire which was going to devour
+all that was left of self. I was suddenly so altered that I was hardly
+to be known either by myself or others. I found no longer those
+troublesome faults or reluctances. They disappeared, being consumed
+like chaff in a great fire.
+
+I now became desirous that the instrument hereof might become my
+director, preferable to any other. This good father could not readily
+resolve to charge himself with my conduct although he saw so surprising
+a change effected by the hand of God. Several reasons induced him to
+excuse himself. First, my person, then my youth, for I was only
+nineteen years. Lastly, a promise he had made to God, from a distrust
+of himself, never to take upon himself the direction of any of our sex,
+unless God, by some particular providence, should charge him therewith.
+However, upon my earnest and repeated request to him to become my
+director, he said he would pray to God and desired that I should do so.
+As he was at prayer, it was said to him, "Fear not that charge; she is
+my spouse." When I heard this, it affected me greatly. "What (said I to
+myself) a frightful monster of iniquity, who has done so much to offend
+my God, in abusing His favors, and requiting them with ingratitude, now
+to be declared his spouse!" After this he consented to my request.
+
+Nothing was more easy to me than prayer. Hours passed away like
+moments, while I could hardly do anything else but pray. The fervency
+of my love allowed me no intermission. It was a prayer of rejoicing and
+possessing, devoid of all busy imaginations and forced reflections; it
+was a prayer of the will, and not of the head. The taste of God was so
+great, so pure, unblended and uninterrupted, that it drew and absorbed
+the power of my soul into a profound recollection without act or
+discourse. I had now no sight but of Jesus Christ alone. All else was
+excluded, in order to love with the greater extent, without any selfish
+motives or reasons for loving.
+
+The will, absorbed the two others, the memory and understanding into
+itself, and concentrated them in LOVE;--not but that they still
+subsisted, but their operations were in a manner imperceptible and
+passive. They were no longer stopped or retarded by the multiplicity,
+but collected and united in one. So the rising of the sun does not
+extinguish the stars, but overpowers and absorbs them in the luster of
+his incomparable glory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+
+Such was the prayer that was given me at once, far above ecstacies,
+transports or visions. All these gifts are less pure, and more subject
+to illusion or deceits from the enemy.
+
+Visions are in the inferior powers of the soul, and cannot produce true
+union. The soul must not dwell or rely upon them, or be retarded by
+them; they are but favors and gifts. The Giver alone must be our
+object, and aim.
+
+It is of such that Paul speaks, "Satan transforms himself into an angel
+of light," II Cor. 11:18; which is generally the case with such as are
+fond of visions, and lay a stress on them; because they are apt to
+convey a vanity to the soul, or at least hinder it from humbly
+attending to God only.
+
+Ecstacies arise from a sensible relish. They may be termed a kind of
+spiritual sensuality, wherein the soul letting itself go too far, by
+reason of the sweetness it finds in them, falls imperceptibly into
+decay. The crafty enemy presents such sort of interior elevations and
+raptures for baits to entrap the soul, to fill it with vanity and
+self-love, to fix its esteem and attention on the gifts of God, and to
+hinder it from following Jesus Christ in the way of renunciation and of
+death to all things.
+
+And as to distinct interior words, they too are subject to illusion;
+the enemy can form and counterfeit them. Or if they come from a good
+angel (for God Himself never speaks thus) we may mistake and
+misapprehend them. They are spoken in a divine manner, but we construe
+them in a human and carnal manner.
+
+But the immediate word of God has neither tone nor articulation. It is
+mute, silent, and unutterable. It is Jesus Christ Himself, the real and
+essential Word who in the center of the soul that is disposed for
+receiving Him, never one moment ceases from His living, fruitful, and
+divine operation.
+
+Oh, thou Word made flesh, whose silence is inexpressible eloquence,
+Thou canst never be misapprehended or mistaken. Thou becomest the life
+of our life, and the soul of our soul. How infinitely is thy language
+elevated above all the utterances of human and finite articulation. Thy
+adorable power, all efficacious in the soul that has received it,
+communicates itself through them to others. As a divine seed it becomes
+fruitful to eternal life.
+
+The revelations of things to come are also very dangerous. The Devil
+can counterfeit them, as he did formerly in the heathen temples, where
+he uttered oracles. Frequently they raise false ideas, vain hopes, and
+frivolous expectations. They take up the mind with future events,
+hinder it from dying to self, and prevent it following Jesus Christ in
+His poverty, abnegation, and death.
+
+Widely different is the revelation of Jesus Christ, made to the soul
+when the eternal Word is communicated. (Gal. 1:16.) It makes us new
+creatures, created anew in Him. This revelation is what the Devil
+cannot counterfeit. From hence proceeds the only safe transport of
+ecstasy, which is operated by naked faith alone, and dying even to the
+gifts of God. As long as the soul continues resting in gifts, it does
+not fully renounce itself. Never passing into God the soul loses the
+real enjoyment of the Giver, by attachments to the gifts. This is truly
+an unutterable loss.
+
+Lest I should let my mind go after these gifts, and steal myself from
+thy love, O my God, Thou wast pleased to fix me in a continual
+adherence to Thyself alone. Souls thus directed get the shortest way.
+They are to expect great sufferings, especially if they are mighty in
+faith, in mortification and deadness to all but God. A pure and
+disinterested love, and intenseness of mind for the advancement of thy
+interest alone. These are the dispositions Thou didst implant in me,
+and even a fervent desire of suffering for Thee. The cross, which I had
+hitherto borne only with resignation, was become my delight, and the
+special object of my rejoicing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+
+I wrote an account of my wonderful change, in point of happiness, to
+that good father who had been made the instrument of it. It filled him
+both with joy and astonishment.
+
+O my God, what penances did the love of suffering induce me to undergo!
+I was impelled to deprive myself of the most innocent indulgences. All
+that could gratify my taste was denied and I took everything that could
+mortify and disgust it. My appetite, which had been extremely delicate,
+was so far conquered that I could scarcely prefer one thing to another.
+
+I dressed loathsome sores and wounds, and gave remedies to the sick.
+When I first engaged in this sort of employment, it was with the
+greatest difficulty I was able to bear it. As soon as my aversion
+ceased, and I could stand the most offensive things, other channels of
+employment were opened to me. For I did nothing of myself, but left
+myself to be wholly governed by my Sovereign.
+
+When that good father asked me how I loved God, I answered, "Far more
+than the most passionate lover his beloved; and that even this
+comparison was inadequate, since the love of the creature never can
+attain to this, either in strength or in depth." This love of God
+occupied my heart so constantly and so strongly, that I could think of
+nothing else. Indeed, I judged nothing else worthy of my thoughts.
+
+The good father mentioned was an excellent preacher. He was desired to
+preach in the parish to which I belonged. When I came, I was so
+strongly absorbed in God, that I could neither open my eyes, nor hear
+anything he said.
+
+I found that Thy Word, O my God, made its own impression on my heart,
+and there had its effect, without the mediation of words or any
+attention to them. And I have found it so ever since, but after a
+different manner, according to the different degrees and states I have
+passed through. So deeply was I settled in the inward spirit of prayer,
+that I could scarce any more pronounce the vocal prayers.
+
+This immersion in God absorbed all things therein. Although I tenderly
+loved certain saints, as St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Mary Magdalene, St.
+Teresa, yet I could not form to myself images of them, nor invoke any
+of them out of God.
+
+A few weeks after I had received that interior wound of the heart,
+which had begun my change, the feast of the Blessed Virgin was held, in
+the convent in which was that good father my director. I went in the
+morning to get the indulgences and was much surprised when I came there
+and found that I could not attempt it; though I stayed above five hours
+in the church. I was penetrated with so lively a dart of pure love,
+that I could not resolve to abridge by indulgences, the pain due to my
+sins. "O my Love," I cried, "I am willing to suffer for Thee. I find no
+other pleasure but in suffering for Thee. Indulgences may be good for
+those who know not the value of sufferings, who choose not that thy
+divine justice should be satisfied; who, having mercenary souls, are
+not so much afraid of displeasing Thee, as of the pains annexed to
+sin." Yet, fearing I might be mistaken, and commit a fault in not
+getting the indulgences, for I had never heard of anyone being in such
+a way before, I returned again to try to get them, but in vain. Not
+knowing what to do, I resigned myself to our Lord. When I returned
+home, I wrote to the good father that he had made what I had written a
+part of his sermon, reciting it verbatim as I had written it.
+
+I now quitted all company, bade farewell forever to all plays and
+diversions, dancing, unprofitable walks and parties of pleasure. For
+two years I had left off dressing my hair. It became me, and my husband
+approved it.
+
+My only pleasure now was to steal some moments to be alone with Thee, O
+thou who art my only Love! All other pleasure was a pain to me. I lost
+not Thy presence, which was given me by a continual infusion, not as I
+had imagined, by the efforts of the head, or by force of thought in
+meditating on God, but in the will, where I tasted with unutterable
+sweetness the enjoyment of the beloved object. In a happy experience I
+knew that the soul was created to enjoy its God.
+
+The union of the will subjects the soul to God, conforms it to all His
+pleasure, causes self-will gradually to die. Lastly in drawing with it
+the other powers, by means of the charity with which it is filled. It
+causes them gradually to be reunited in the Center, and lost there as
+to their own nature and operations.
+
+This loss is called the annihilation of the powers. Although in
+themselves they still subsist, yet they seem annihilated to us, in
+proportion as charity fills and inflames; it becomes so strong, as by
+degrees to surmount all the activities of the will of man, subjecting
+it to that of God. When the soul is docile, and leaves itself to be
+purified, and emptied of all that which it has of its own, opposite to
+the will of God, it finds itself by little and little, detached from
+every emotion of its own, and placed in a holy indifference, wishing
+nothing but what God does and wills. This never can be effected by the
+activity of our own will, even though it were employed in continual
+acts or resignation. These though very virtuous, are so far one's own
+actions, and cause the will to subsist in a multiplicity, in a kind of
+separate distinction or dissimilitude from God.
+
+When the will of the creature entirely submits to that of the Creator,
+suffering freely and voluntarily and yielding only a concurrence to the
+divine will (which is its absolute submission) suffering itself to be
+totally surmounted and destroyed, by the operations of love; this
+absorbs the will into self, consummates it in that of God, and purifies
+it from all narrowness, dissimilitude, and selfishness.
+
+The case is the same with the other two powers. By means of charity,
+the two other theological virtues, faith and hope, are introduced.
+Faith so strongly seizes on the understanding, as to make it decline
+all reasonings, all particular illuminations and illustrations, however
+sublime. This sufficiently demonstrates how far visions, revelations
+and ecstasies, differ from this, and hinder the soul from being lost in
+God. Although by them it appears lost in Him for some transient
+moments, yet it is not a true loss, since the soul which is entirely
+lost in God no more finds itself again. Faith then makes the soul lose
+every distinct light, in order to place it in its own pure light.
+
+The memory, too, finds all its little activities surmounted by degrees,
+and absorbed in hope. Finally the powers are all concentrated and lost
+in pure love. It engulfs them into itself by means of their sovereign,
+the WILL. The will is the sovereign of the powers and charity is the
+queen of the virtues, and unites them all in herself.
+
+This reunion thus made, is called the central union or unity. By means
+of the will and love, all are reunited in the center of the soul in God
+who is our ultimate end. According to St. John, "He who dwelleth in
+love, dwelleth in God, for God is love."
+
+This union of my will to Thine, O my God, and this ineffable presence
+was so sweet and powerful, that I was compelled to yield to its
+delightful power, power which was strict and severe to my minutest
+faults.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+
+My senses (as I have described) were continually mortified, and under
+perpetual restraint. To conquer them totally, it is necessary to deny
+them the smallest relaxation, until the victory is completed. We see
+those who content themselves practicing great outward austerities, yet
+by indulging their senses in what is called innocent and necessary,
+they remain forever unsubdued. Austerities, however severe, will not
+conquer the senses. To destroy their power, the most effectual means
+is, in general, to deny them firmly what will please, and to persevere
+in this, until they are reduced to be without desire or repugnance. If
+we attempt, during the warfare, to grant them any relaxation, we act
+like those, who, under pretext of strengthening a man, who was
+condemned to be starved to death, should give him from time to time a
+little nourishment. It indeed would prolong his torments, and postpone
+his death.
+
+It is just the same with the death of the senses, the powers, the
+understanding, and self-will. If we do not eradicate every remains of
+self subsisting in these, we support them in a dying life to the end.
+This state and its termination are clearly set forth by Paul. He speaks
+of bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus. (II Cor.
+4:10.). But, lest we should rest here, he fully distinguishes this from
+the state of being dead and having our life hid with Christ in God. It
+is only by a total death to self we can be lost in God.
+
+He who is thus dead has no further need of mortification. The very end
+of mortification is accomplished in him, and all is become new. It is
+an unhappy error in those good souls, who have arrived at a conquest of
+the bodily senses, through this unremitted and continual mortification,
+that they should still continue attached to the exercise of it. They
+should rather drop their attention thereto, and remain in indifference,
+accepting with equality the good as the bad, the sweet as the bitter,
+and bend their whole attention to a labor of greater importance;
+namely, the mortification of the mind and self-will. They should begin
+by dropping all the activity of self, which can never be done without
+the most profound prayer; no more than the death of the senses can be
+perfected without profound recollection joined to mortification.
+Indeed, recollection is the chief means whereby we attain to a conquest
+of the senses. It detaches and separates us from them, and sweetly saps
+the very cause from whence they derive their influence over us.
+
+The more Thou didst augment my love, and my patience, O my Lord, the
+less respite had I from the most oppressive crosses; but love rendered
+them easy to bear.
+
+O ye poor souls, who exhaust yourselves with needless vexation, if you
+would but seek God in your hearts, there would be a speedy end to all
+your troubles. The increase of crosses would proportionately increase
+your delight.
+
+Love, at the beginning, athirst for mortification impelled me to seek
+and invent various kinds. It is surprising, that as soon as the
+bitterness of any new mode of mortification was exhausted, another kind
+was pointed to me, and I was inwardly led to pursue it. Divine love so
+enlightened my heart, and so scrutinized into its secret springs, that
+the smallest defects became exposed. If I was about to speak, something
+wrong was instantly pointed to me, and I was compelled to silence. If I
+kept silence, faults were presently discovered--in every action there
+was something defective--in my mortifications, my penances, my
+alms-giving, my retirement, I was faulty. When I walked, I observed
+there was something wrong; if I spoke any way in my own favor, I saw
+pride. If I said within myself, alas, I will speak no more, here was
+self. If I was cheerful and open, I was condemned. Pure love always
+found matter for reproof in me, and was jealous that nothing should
+escape unnoticed. It was not that I was particularly attentive over
+myself, for it was even with constraint that I could look at all at
+myself. My attention toward God, by an attachment of my will to His,
+was without intermission. I waited continually upon Him, and He watched
+incessantly over me, and He so led me by His providence, that I forgot
+all things. I knew not how to communicate what I felt to anyone. I was
+so lost to myself, that I could scarcely go about self-examination.
+When I attempted it all ideas of myself immediately disappeared. I
+found myself occupied with my ONE OBJECT, without distinction of ideas.
+I was absorbed in peace inexpressible; I saw by the eye of faith that
+it was God that thus wholly possessed me; but I did not reason at all
+about it. It must not, however, be supposed that divine love suffered
+my faults to go unpunished.
+
+O Lord! with what rigor, dost Thou punish the most faithful, the most
+loving and beloved of Thy children. I mean not externally, for this
+would be inadequate to the smallest fault, in a soul that God is about
+to purify radically. The punishments it can inflict on itself, are
+rather gratifications and refreshments than otherwise. Indeed, the
+manner in which He corrects His chosen, must be felt, or it is
+impossible to conceive how dreadful it is. In my attempt to explain it,
+I shall be unintelligible, except to experienced souls. It is an
+internal burning, a secret fire sent from God to purge away the fault,
+giving extreme pain, until this purification is complete. It is like a
+dislocated joint, which is in incessant torment, until the bone is
+replaced. This pain is so severe, that the soul would do anything to
+satisfy God for the fault, and would rather be torn in pieces than
+endure the torment. Sometimes the soul flies to others, and opens her
+state that she may find consolation. Thereby she frustrates God's
+designs toward her. It is of the utmost consequence to know what use to
+make of the distress. The whole of one's spiritual advancement depends
+on it. We should at these seasons of internal anguish, obscurity and
+mourning, co-operate with God, endure this consuming torture in its
+utmost extent (while it continues) without attempting to lessen or
+increase it. Bear it passively, nor seek to satisfy God by anything we
+can do of ourselves. To continue passive at such a time is extremely
+difficult, and requires great firmness and courage. I knew some who
+never advanced farther in the spiritual process because they grew
+impatient, and sought means of consolation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+
+The treatment of my husband and mother-in-law, however rigorous and
+insulting, I now bore silently. I made no replies and this was not so
+difficult for me, because the greatness of my interior occupation, and
+what passed within, rendered me insensible to all the rest. There were
+times when I was left to myself. Then I could not refrain from tears. I
+did the lowest offices for them to humble myself. All this did not win
+their favor. When they were in a rage, although I could not find that I
+had given them any occasion, yet I did not fail to beg their pardon,
+even from the girl of whom I have spoken. I had a good deal of pain to
+surmount myself, as to the last. She became the more insolent for it;
+reproaching me with things which ought to have made her blush and have
+covered her with shame. As she saw that I contradicted and resisted her
+no more in anything, she proceeded to treat me worse. And when I asked
+her pardon she triumphed, saying, "I knew very well I was in the
+right." Her arrogance rose to the height that I would not have treated
+the meanest slave.
+
+One day, as she was dressing me, she pulled me roughly, and spoke to me
+insolently. I said, "It is not my account that I am willing to answer
+you, for you give me no pain, but lest you should act thus before
+persons to whom it would give offence. Moreover, as I am your mistress,
+God is assuredly offended with you." She left me that moment, and ran
+like a mad woman to meet my husband telling him she would stay no
+longer, I treated her so ill, that I hated her for the care she took of
+him in his continual indispositions, wanting her not to do any service
+for him. My husband was very hasty, so he took fire at these words. I
+finished dressing alone. Since she had left me I dared not call another
+girl; she would not suffer another girl to come near me. I saw my
+husband coming like a lion, he was never in such a rage as this. I
+thought he was going to strike me; I awaited the blow with
+tranquillity; he threatened with his up-lifted crutch; I thought he was
+going to knock me down. Holding myself closely united to God, I beheld
+it without pain. He did not strike me for he had presence of mind
+enough to see what indignity it would be. In his rage he threw it at
+me. It fell near me, but it did not touch me. He then discharged
+himself in language as if I had been a street beggar, or the most
+infamous of creatures. I kept profound silence, being recollected in
+the Lord.
+
+The girl in the meantime came in. At the sight of her his rage
+redoubled. I kept near to God, as a victim disposed to suffer whatever
+He would permit. My husband ordered me to beg her pardon, which I
+readily did, and thereby appeased him. I went into my closet, where I
+no sooner was, than my divine Director impelled me to make this girl a
+present, to recompense her for the cross which she had caused me. She
+was a little astonished, but her heart was too hard to be gained.
+
+I often acted thus because she frequently gave me opportunities. She
+had a singular dexterity in attending the sick. My husband, ailing
+almost continually, would suffer no other person to administer to him.
+He had a very great regard for her. She was artful; in his presence she
+affected an extraordinary respect for me. When he was not present, if I
+said a word to her, though with the greatest mildness and if she heard
+him coming, she cried out with all her might that she was unhappy. She
+acted like one distressed so that, without informing himself of the
+truth, he was irritated against me, as was also my mother-in-law.
+
+The violence I did to my proud and hasty nature was so great, that I
+could hold out no longer. I was quite spent with it. It seemed
+sometimes as if I was inwardly rent, and I have often fallen sick with
+the struggle. She did not forbear exclaiming against me, even before
+persons of distinction, who came to see me. If I was silent, she took
+offence at that yet more, and said that I despised her. She cried me
+down, and made complaints to everybody. All this redounded to my honor
+and her own disgrace. My reputation was so well established, on account
+of my exterior modesty, my devotion, and the great acts of charity
+which I did, that nothing could shake it.
+
+Sometimes she ran out into the street, crying out against me. At one
+time she exclaimed, "Am not I very unhappy to have such a mistress?"
+People gathered about her to know what I had done to her; and not
+knowing what to say, she answered that I had not spoken to her all the
+day. They returned, laughing, and said, "She has done you no great harm
+then."
+
+I am surprised at the blindness of confessors, and at their permitting
+their penitents to conceal so much of the truth from them. The
+confessor of this girl made her pass for a saint. This he said in my
+hearing. I answered nothing; for love would not permit me to speak of
+my troubles. I should consecrate them all to God by a profound silence.
+
+My husband was out of humor with my devotion. "What," said he, "you
+love God so much, that you love me no longer." So little did he
+comprehend that the true conjugal love is that which the Lord Himself
+forms in the heart that loves Him.
+
+Oh, Thou who art pure and holy, Thou didst imprint in me from the first
+such a love of chastity, that there was nothing in the world which I
+would not have undergone to possess and preserve it.
+
+I endeavored to be agreeable to my husband in anything, and to please
+him in everything he could require of me. God gave me such a purity of
+soul at that time, that I had not so much as a bad thought. Sometimes
+my husband said to me, "One sees plainly that you never lose the
+presence of God."
+
+The world, seeing I quit it, persecuted and turned me into ridicule. I
+was its entertainment, and the subject of its fables. It could not bear
+that a woman, scarce twenty years of age, should thus make war against
+it, and overcome. My mother-in-law took part with the world, and blamed
+me for not doing many things that in her heart she would have been
+highly offended had I done them. I was as one lost, and alone; so
+little communion had I with the creature, farther than necessity
+required. I seemed to experience literally those words of Paul, "I live
+yet, no more I, but Christ liveth in me." His operations were so
+powerful, so sweet, and so secret, all together, that I could not
+express them. We went into the country on some business. Oh! what
+unutterable communications did I there experience in retirement!
+
+I was insatiable for prayer. I arose at four o'clock in the morning to
+pray. I went very far to the church, which was so situated, that the
+coach could not come to it. There was a steep hill to go down and
+another to ascend. All that cost me nothing; I had such a longing
+desire to meet with my God, as my only good, who on His part was
+graciously forward to give Himself to His poor creature, and for it to
+do even visible miracles. Such as saw me lead a life so very different
+from the women of the world said I was a fool. They attributed it to
+stupidity. Sometimes they said, "What can all this mean? Some people
+think this lady has parts, but nothing of them appears." If I went into
+company, often I could not speak; so much was I engaged within, so
+inward with the Lord, as not to attend to anything else. If any near me
+spoke, I heard nothing. I generally took one with me, that this might
+not appear. I took some work, to hide under that appearance the real
+employ of my heart. When I was alone, the work dropped out of my hand.
+I wanted to persuade a relation of my husband's to practice prayer. She
+thought me a fool, for depriving myself of all the amusements of the
+age. But the Lord opened her eyes, to make her despise them. I could
+have wished to teach all the world to love God; and thought it depended
+only on them to feel what I felt. The Lord made use of my thinking to
+gain many souls to Himself.
+
+The good father I have spoken of, who was the instrument of my
+conversion, made me acquainted with Genevieve Granger, prioress of the
+Benedictines, one of the greatest servants of God of her time. She
+proved of very great service to me. My confessor, who had told everyone
+that I was a saint before, when so full of miseries, and so far from
+the condition to which the Lord in His mercy had now brought me, seeing
+I placed a confidence in the father of whom I have spoken, and that I
+steered in a road which was unknown to him, declared openly against me.
+The monks of his order persecuted me much. They even preached publicly
+against me, as a person under a delusion.
+
+My husband and mother-in-law, who till now had been indifferent about
+this confessor, then joined him and ordered me to leave off prayer, and
+the exercise of piety; that I could not do. There was carried on a
+conversation within me, very different from that which passed without.
+I did what I could to hinder it from appearing, but could not. The
+presence of so great a Master manifested itself, even on my
+countenance. That pained my husband, he sometimes told me. I did what I
+could to hinder it from being noticed, but was not able completely to
+hide it. I was so much inwardly occupied that I knew not what I ate. I
+made as if I ate some kinds of meat, though I did not take any. This
+deep inward attention suffered me scarcely to hear or see anything. I
+still continued to use many severe mortifications and austerities. They
+did not in the least diminish the freshness of my countenance.
+
+I had often grievous fits of sickness and no consolation in life,
+except in the practice of prayer, and in seeing Mother Granger. How
+dear did these cost me, especially the former! Is this esteeming the
+cross as I ought?--should I not rather say that prayer to me was
+recompensed with the cross, and the cross with prayer. Inseparable
+gifts united in my heart and life! When your eternal light arose in my
+soul, how perfectly it reconciled me and made you the object of my
+love! From the moment I received Thee I have never been free from the
+cross, nor it seems without prayer--though for a long time I thought
+myself deprived thereof, which exceedingly augmented my afflictions.
+
+My confessor at first exerted his efforts to hinder me from practicing
+prayer, and from seeing Mother Granger. He violently stirred up my
+husband and mother-in-law to hinder me from praying. The method they
+took was to watch me from morning until night. I dared not go out from
+my mother-in-law's room, or from my husband's bedside. Sometimes I
+carried my work to the window, under a pretense of seeing better, in
+order to relieve myself with some moment's repose. They came to watch
+me very closely, to see if I did not pray instead of working. When my
+husband and mother-in-law played cards, if I did turn toward the fire,
+they watched to see if I continued my work or shut my eyes. If they
+observed I closed them, they would be in a fury against me for several
+hours. What is most strange, when my husband went out, having some days
+of health, he would not allow me to pray in his absence. He marked my
+work, and sometimes, after he was just gone out, returning immediately,
+if he found me in prayer he would be in a rage. In vain I said,
+"Surely, sir, what matters it what I do when you are absent, if I be
+assiduous in attending you when you are present?" That would not
+satisfy him; he insisted that I should no more pray in his absence than
+in his presence.
+
+I believe there is hardly a torment equal to that of being ardently
+drawn to retirement, and not having it in one's power to be retired.
+
+O my God, the war they raised to hinder me from loving Thee did but
+augment my love. While they were striving to prevent my addresses to
+Thee, thou drewest me into an inexpressible silence. The more they
+labored to separate me from Thee, the more closely didst Thou unite me
+to Thyself. The flame of Thy love was kindled, and kept up by
+everything that was done to extinguish it.
+
+Often through compliance I played at piquet with my husband. At such
+times I was even more interiorly attracted than if I had been at
+church. I was scarce able to contain the fire which burned in my soul,
+which had all the fervor of what men call love, but nothing of its
+impetuosity. The more ardent, the more peaceable it was. This fire
+gained strength from everything that was done to suppress it. And the
+spirit of prayer was nourished and increased from their contrivances
+and endeavors to disallow me any time for practicing it. I loved
+without considering a motive or reason for loving. Nothing passed in my
+head, but much in the innermost recesses of my soul. I thought not
+about any recompense, gift, or favor, which He could bestow or I
+receive. The Well-beloved was Himself the only object which attracted
+my heart. I could not contemplate His attributes. I knew nothing else,
+but to love and to suffer. Ignorance more truly learned than any
+science of the doctors, since it taught me so well Jesus Christ
+crucified and brought me to be in love with His holy cross. I could
+then have wished to die, in order to be inseparably united to Him who
+so powerfully attracted my heart. As all this passed in the will, the
+imagination and the understanding being absorbed in it, I knew not what
+to say, having never read or heard of such a state as I experienced. I
+dreaded delusion and feared that all was not right, for before this I
+had known nothing of the operations of God in souls. I had only read
+St. Francis de Sales, Thomas a'Kempis, _The Spiritual Combat_, and
+the Holy Scriptures. I was quite a stranger to those spiritual books
+wherein such states are described.
+
+Then all those amusements and pleasures that are prized and esteemed
+appeared to me dull and insipid. I wondered how it could be that I had
+ever enjoyed them. And indeed since that time, I could never find any
+satisfaction or enjoyment out of God. I have sometimes been unfaithful
+enough to find it. I was not astonished that martyrs gave their lives
+for Jesus Christ. I thought them happy, and sighed after their
+privilege of suffering for Him, I so esteemed the cross that my
+greatest trouble was the want of suffering as much as my heart thirsted
+for.
+
+This respect and esteem for the cross continually increased. Afterward
+I lost the sensible relish and enjoyment, yet the love and esteem no
+more left me than the cross itself. Indeed, it has ever been my
+faithful companion, changing and augmenting, in proportion to the
+changes and dispositions of my inward state. O blessed cross, thou hast
+never quitted me, since I surrendered myself to my divine, crucified
+Master. I still hope that thou wilt never abandon me. So eager was I
+for the cross, that I endeavored to make myself feel the utmost rigor
+of every mortification. This only served to awaken my desire for
+suffering, and to show me that it is God alone that can prepare and
+send crosses suitable to a soul that thirsts for a following of His
+sufferings, and a conformity to His death. The more my state of prayer
+augmented, my desire of suffering grew stronger, as the full weight of
+heavy crosses from every side came thundering upon me.
+
+The peculiar property of this prayer of the heart is to give a strong
+faith. Mine was without limits, as was also my resignation to God, and
+my confidence in Him--my love of His will, and of the order of His
+providence over me. I was very timorous before, but now feared nothing.
+It is in such a case that one feels the efficacy of these words, "My
+yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matt. 11:30).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+
+I had a secret desire given me from that time to be wholly devoted to
+the disposal of my God, let that be what it would. I said, "What
+couldst Thou demand of me, that I would not willingly offer Thee? Oh,
+spare me not." The cross and humiliations were represented to my mind
+in the most frightful colors, but this deterred me not. I yielded
+myself up as willing and indeed our Lord seemed to accept of my
+sacrifice, for His divine providence furnished me incessantly with
+occasions and opportunities for putting it to the test.
+
+I had difficulty to say vocal prayers I had been used to repeat. As
+soon as I opened my lips to pronounce them, the love of God seized me
+strongly. I was swallowed up in a profound silence and an inexpressible
+peace. I made fresh attempts but still in vain. I began again and
+again, but could not go on. I had never before heard of such a state, I
+knew not what to do. My inability increased because my love to the Lord
+was growing more strong, more violent and more overpowering. There was
+made in me, without the sound of words, a continual prayer. It seemed
+to me to be the prayer of our Lord Jesus Christ Himself; a prayer of
+the Word, which is made by the Spirit. According to St. Paul it "asketh
+for us that which is good, perfect, and conformable to the will of God"
+(Rom. 8:26-27).
+
+My domestic crosses continued. I was prevented from seeing or even
+writing to Mrs. Granger. My very going to divine service or the
+sacrament, were a source of woeful offences. The only amusement I had
+left me, was the visiting and attending the sick poor, and performing
+the lowest offices for them.
+
+My prayer-time began to be exceedingly distressing. I compelled myself
+to continue at it, though deprived of all comfort and consolation. When
+I was not employed therein, I felt an ardent desire and longing for it.
+I suffered inexpressible anguish in my mind, and endeavored with the
+severest inflictions of corporeal austerities to mitigate and divert
+it--but in vain. I found no more that enlivening vigor which had
+hitherto carried me on with great swiftness. I seemed to myself to be
+like those young brides, who find a great deal of difficulty to lay
+aside their self-love, and to follow their husbands to the war. I
+relapsed into a vain complacency and fondness for myself. My propensity
+to pride and vanity, which seemed quite dead, while I was so filled
+with love of God, now showed itself again, and gave me severe exercise.
+This made me lament the exterior beauty of my person, and pray to God
+incessantly, that he would remove from me that obstacle, and make me
+ugly. I could even have wished to be deaf, blind and dumb, that nothing
+might divert me from my love of God.
+
+I set out on a journey, which we had then to make, and I appeared more
+than ever like those lamps which emit a glimmering flash, when they are
+just on the point of extinguishing. Alas! how many snares were laid in
+my way! I met them at every step. I even committed infidelities through
+unwatchfulness.
+
+O my Lord, with what rigor didst Thou punish them! A useless glance was
+checked as a sin. How many tears did those inadvertent faults cost me,
+through a weak compliance, and even against my will! Thou knowest that
+Thy rigor, exercised after my slips, was not the motive of those tears
+which I shed. With what pleasure would I have suffered the most
+rigorous severity to have been cured of my infidelity. To what severe
+chastisement did I not condemn myself! Sometimes Thou didst treat me
+like a father who pities the child, and caresses it after its
+involuntary faults. How often didst Thou make me sensible of Thy love
+toward me, notwithstanding my blemishes! It was the sweetness of this
+love after my falls which caused my greatest pain; for the more the
+amiableness of Thy love was extended to me, the more inconsolable I was
+for having departed ever so little from Thee. When I had let some
+inadvertence escape me, I found Thee ready to receive me. I have often
+cried out, "O my Lord! is it possible thou canst be so gracious to such
+an offender, and so indulgent to my faults; so propitious to one who
+has wandered astray from Thee, by vain complaisances, and an unworthy
+fondness for frivolous objects? Yet no sooner do I return, than I find
+Thee waiting, with open arms ready to receive me."
+
+O sinner, sinner! hast thou any reason to complain of God? If there yet
+remains in thee any justice, confess the truth, and admit that it is
+owing to thyself if thou goest wrong; that in departing from Him thou
+disobeyest His call. When thou returnest, He is ready to receive thee;
+and if thou returnest not, He makes use of the most engaging motives to
+win thee. Yet thou turnest a deaf ear to His voice; thou wilt not hear
+Him. Thou sayest He speaks not to thee, though He calls loudly. It is
+therefore only because thou daily rebellest, and art growing daily more
+and more deaf to the voice.
+
+When I was in Paris, and the clergy saw me so young, they appeared
+astonished. Those to whom I opened my state told me, that I could never
+enough thank God for the graces conferred on me; that if I knew them I
+should be amazed at them; and that if I were not faithful, I should be
+the most ungrateful of all creatures. Some declared that they never
+knew any woman whom God held so closely, and in so great a purity of
+conscience.
+
+I believe what rendered it so was the continual care Thou hadst over
+me, O my God, making me feel Thy presence, even as Thou hast promised
+it to us in Thy Gospel,--"if a man love me, my Father will love him,
+and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him" (John 14:23).
+The continual experience of Thy presence in me was what preserved me. I
+became deeply assured of what the prophet had said, "Except the Lord
+keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain" (Ps. 127:1). Thou, O my
+Love, wert my faithful keeper, who didst defend my heart against all
+sorts of enemies, preventing the least faults, or correcting them when
+vivacity had occasioned their being committed. But alas! when Thou
+didst cease to watch for me, or left me to myself, how weak was I, and
+how easily did my enemies prevail over me! Let others ascribe their
+victory to their own fidelity. As for me, I shall never attribute them
+to anything else than thy paternal care. I have too often experienced,
+to my cost, what I should be without Thee, to presume in the least on
+any cares of my own. It is to Thee, and to Thee only, that I owe
+everything. O my Deliverer; and my being indebted to Thee for it gives
+me infinite joy.
+
+While in Paris, I relaxed and did many things which I should not. I
+knew the extreme fondness which some had for me, and suffered them to
+express it without checking it as I ought. I fell into other faults
+too, as having my neck a little too bare, though not near so much as
+others had. I plainly saw I was too remiss; and that was my torment. I
+sought all about for Him who had secretly inflamed my heart. But, alas!
+hardly anybody knew Him. I cried, "Oh, Thou best beloved of my soul,
+hadst Thou been near me these disasters had not befallen me." When I
+say that I spoke thus to Him, it is but to explain myself. In reality,
+it all passed almost in silence, for I could not speak. My heart had a
+language which was carried on without the sound of words, understood of
+Him, as He understands the language of the Word, which speaks
+incessantly in the innermost recesses of the soul. Oh, sacred language!
+Experience only gives the comprehension of it! Let not any think it a
+barren language, and effect of the mere imagination. Far different--it
+is the silent expression of the Word in the soul. As He never ceases to
+speak, so He never ceases to operate. If people once came to know the
+operations of the Lord, in souls wholly resigned to His guiding, it
+would fill them with reverential admiration and awe.
+
+I saw that the purity of my state was like to be sullied by too great a
+commerce with the creatures, so I made haste to finish what detained me
+in Paris, in order to return to the country. "Tis true, O my Lord, I
+felt that Thou hadst given me strength enough to avoid the occasions of
+evil--but when I had so far yielded as to get into them, I found I
+could not resist the vain complaisances, and a number of other foibles
+which they ensnared me into." The pain which I felt after my faults was
+inexpressible. It was not an anguish that arose from any distinct idea
+or conception, from any particular motive or affection--but a kind of
+devouring fire which ceased not, till the fault was consumed and the
+soul purified. It was a banishment of my soul from the presence of its
+Beloved. I could have no access to Him, neither could I have any rest
+out of Him. I knew not what to do. I was like the dove out of the ark,
+which finding no rest for the soul of her foot, was constrained to
+return to the ark; but, finding the window shut, could only fly about.
+In the meantime, through an infidelity which will ever render me
+culpable, I strove to find some satisfaction without, but could not.
+This served to convince me of my folly and of the vanity of those
+pleasures which are called innocent. When I was prevailed on to taste
+them, I felt a strong repulse which, joined with my remorse for the
+transgression, changed the diversion into torment. "Oh, my Father,"
+said I, "this is not Thee; and nothing else, beside Thee, can give
+solid pleasure."
+
+One day, as much through unfaithfulness as complaisance, I went to take
+a walk at some of the public parks, rather from excess of vanity to
+show myself than to take the pleasure of the place. Oh, my Lord! how
+didst Thou make me sensible of this fault? But far from punishing me in
+letting me partake of the amusement, Thou didst it in holding me so
+close to Thyself, that I could give no attention to anything but my
+fault and Thy displeasure. After this I was invited with some other
+ladies to an entertainment at St. Cloud. Through vanity and weak
+compliance, I yielded and went. The affair was magnificent; they,
+though wise in the eye of the world, could relish it. I was filled with
+bitterness. I could eat nothing, I could enjoy nothing. Oh, what tears!
+For beyond three months my Beloved withdrew His favoring presence, and
+I could see nothing but an angry God.
+
+I was on this occasion, and in another journey which I took with my
+husband into Touraine, like those animals destined for slaughter. On
+certain days people adorn them with greens and flowers, and bring in
+pomp into the city before they kill them. This weak beauty, on the eve
+of decline, shone forth with new brightness, in order to become the
+sooner extinct. I was shortly after afflicted with the smallpox.
+
+One day as I walked to church, followed by a footman I was met by a
+poor man. I went to give him alms; he thanked me but refused them and
+then spoke to me in a wonderful manner of God and of divine things. He
+displayed to me my whole heart, my love to God, my charity, my too
+great fondness for my beauty and all my faults; he told me it was not
+enough to avoid Hell, but that the Lord required of me the utmost
+purity and height of perfection. My heart assented to his reproofs. I
+heard him with silence and respect, his words penetrated my very soul.
+When I arrived at the church I fainted away. I have never seen the man
+since.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+
+My husband enjoying some intermission of his almost continual ailments,
+had a mind to go to Orleans, and then into Touraine. In this journey my
+vanity made its last blaze. I received abundance of visits and
+applauses. But how clearly did I see the folly of men who are so taken
+with vain beauty! I disliked the disposition, yet not that which caused
+it, though I sometimes ardently desired to be delivered from it. The
+continual combat of nature and grace cost me no small affliction.
+Nature was pleased with public applause; grace made me dread it. What
+augmented the temptation was that they esteemed in me virtue, joined
+with youth and beauty. They did not know that all the virtue is only in
+God, and His protection, and all the weakness in myself.
+
+I went in search of confessors, to accuse myself of my failing, and to
+bewail my backslidings. They were utterly insensible of my pain. They
+esteemed what God condemned. They treated as a virtue what to me
+appeared detestable in His sight. Far from measuring my faults by His
+graces, they only considered what I was, in comparison of what I might
+have been. Hence, instead of blaming me, they only flattered my pride.
+They justified me in what incurred His rebuke, or only treated as a
+slight fault what in me was highly displeasing to Him, from whom I had
+received such signal mercies.
+
+The heinousness of sins is not to be measured singly by their nature,
+but also by the state of the person who commits them. The least
+unfaithfulness in a spouse is more injurious to her husband, than far
+greater ones in his domestics. I told them all the trouble I had been
+under for not having entirely covered my neck. It was covered much more
+than was covered by other women of my age. They assured me that I was
+very modestly dressed. As my husband liked my dress there could be
+nothing amiss in it. My inward Director taught me quite the contrary. I
+had not courage enough to follow Him, and to dress myself differently
+from others, at my age. My vanity furnished me with pretences seemingly
+just for following fashions. If pastors knew what hurt they do in
+humoring female vanity, they would be more severe against it! Had I
+found but one person honest enough to deal plainly with me, I should
+not have gone on. But my vanity, siding with the declared opinion of
+all others, induced me to think them right, and my own scruples mere
+fancy.
+
+We met with accidents in this journey, sufficient to have terrified
+anyone. Though corrupt nature prevailed so far as I have just
+mentioned, yet my resignation to God was so strong, that I passed
+fearless, even where there was apparently no possibility of escape. At
+one time we got into a narrow pass, and did not perceive, until we were
+too far advanced to draw back, that the road was undermined by the
+river Loire, which ran beneath, and the banks had fallen in; so that in
+some places the footmen were obliged to support one side of the
+carriage. All those around me were terrified to the highest degree, yet
+God kept me perfectly tranquil. I secretly rejoiced at the prospect of
+losing my life by a singular stroke of His providence.
+
+On my return, I went to see Mrs. Granger, to whom I related how it had
+been with me while abroad. She strengthened and encouraged me to pursue
+my first design. She advised me to cover my neck, which I have done
+ever since notwithstanding the singularity of it.
+
+The Lord, who had so long deferred the chastisement merited by such a
+series of infidelities, now began to punish me for the abuse of his
+grace. Sometimes I wished to retire to a convent, and thought it
+lawful. I found wherein I was weak, and that my faults were always of
+the same nature. I wished to hide myself in some cave, or to be
+confined in a dreary prison, rather than enjoy a liberty by which I
+suffered so much. Divine love gently drew me inward, and vanity dragged
+me outward. My heart was rent asunder by the contest, as I neither gave
+myself wholly up to the one nor the other.
+
+I besought my God to deprive me of power to displease Him, and cried,
+"Art thou not strong enough wholly to eradicate this unjust duplicity
+out of my heart?" For my vanity broke forth when occasions offered; yet
+I quickly returned to God. He, instead of repulsing or upbraiding me,
+often received me with open arms, and gave me fresh testimonials of His
+love. They filled me with the most painful reflections on my offense.
+Though this wretched vanity was still so prevalent, yet my love to God
+was such, that after my wanderings, I would rather have chosen His rod
+than His caresses. His interests were more dear to me than my own, and
+I wished He would have done Himself justice upon me. My heart was full
+of grief and of love. I was stung to the quick for offending Him, who
+showered His grace so profusely upon me. That those who know not God
+should offend Him by sin is not to be wondered at, but that a heart
+which loved Him more than itself, and so fully experienced His love,
+should be seduced by propensities which it detests, is a cruel
+martyrdom.
+
+When I felt most strongly Thy presence, and Thy love, O Lord, said I,
+how wonderfully Thou bestowest Thy favors on such a wretched creature,
+who requites Thee only with ingratitude. For if anyone reads this life
+with attention, he will see on God's part, nothing but goodness, mercy,
+and love; on my part, nothing but weakness, sin and infidelity. I have
+nothing to glory in but my infirmities and my unworthiness, since, in
+that everlasting marriage-union thou hast made with me, I brought with
+me nothing but weakness, sin and misery. How I rejoice to owe all to
+Thee, and that Thou favorest my heart with a sight of the treasures and
+boundless riches of Thy grace and love! Thou hast dealt by me, as if a
+magnificent king should marry a poor slave, forget her slavery, give
+her all the ornaments which may render her pleasing in his eyes, and
+freely pardon her all the faults and ill qualities which her ignorance
+and bad education had given her. This Thou hast made my case. My
+poverty is become my riches, and in the extremity of my weakness I have
+found my strength. Oh, if any knew, with what confusion the indulgent
+favors of God cover the soul after its faults! Such a soul would wish
+with all its power to satisfy the divine justice. I made verses and
+little songs to bewail myself. I exercised austerities, but they did
+not satisfy my heart. They were like those drops of water which only
+serve to make the fire hotter. When I take a view of God, and myself, I
+am obliged to cry out, "Oh, admirable conduct of Love toward an
+ungrateful wretch! Oh, horrible ingratitude toward such unparalleled
+goodness." A great part of my life is only a mixture of such things as
+might be enough to sink me to the grave between grief and love.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 15
+
+
+On my arrival at home, I found my husband taken with the gout, and his
+other complaints. My little daughter ill, and like to die of the
+smallpox; my eldest son, too, took it; and it was of so malignant a
+type, that it rendered him as disfigured, as before he was beautiful.
+As soon as I perceived the smallpox was in the house, I had no doubt
+but I should take it. Mrs. Granger advised me to leave if I could. My
+father offered to take me home, with my second son, whom I tenderly
+loved. My mother-in-law would not suffer it. She persuaded my husband
+it was useless, and sent for a physician, who seconded her in it,
+saying, "I should as readily take it at a distance as here, if I were
+disposed to take it." I may say, she proved at that time a second
+Jephtha, and that she sacrificed us both, though innocently. Had she
+known what followed, I doubt not but she would have acted otherwise.
+All the town stirred in this affair. Everyone begged her to send me out
+of the house, and cried out that it was cruel to expose me thus. They
+set upon me, too, imagining I was unwilling to go. I had not told that
+she was so averse to it. I had at that time no other disposition than
+to sacrifice myself to divine Providence. Though I might have removed,
+notwithstanding my mother-in-law's resistance, yet I would not without
+her consent; because it looked to me as if her resistance was an order
+of Heaven.
+
+I continued in this spirit of sacrifice to God, waiting from moment to
+moment in an entire resignation, for whatever He should be pleased to
+ordain. I cannot express what nature suffered. I was like one who sees
+both certain death and an easy remedy, without being able to avoid the
+former, or try the latter. I had no less apprehension for my younger
+son than for myself. My mother-in-law so excessively doted on the
+eldest, that the rest of us were indifferent to her. Yet I am assured,
+if she had known the younger would have died of the smallpox, she would
+not have acted as she did. God makes use of creatures, and their
+natural inclinations to accomplish His designs. When I see in the
+creatures a conduct which appears unreasonable and mortifying, I mount
+higher, and look upon them as instruments both of the mercy and justice
+of God. His justice is full of mercy.
+
+I told my husband that my stomach was sick, and that I was taking the
+smallpox. He said it was only imagination. I let Mrs. Granger know the
+situation I was in. As she had a tender heart, she was affected by the
+treatment I met with, and encouraged me to offer myself up to the Lord.
+At length, nature finding there was no resource, consented to the
+sacrifice which my spirit had already made. The disorder gained ground
+apace. I was seized with a great shivering, and pain both in my head
+and stomach. They would not yet believe that I was sick. In a few hours
+it went so far, that they thought my life in danger. I was also taken
+with an inflammation on my lungs, and the remedies for the one disorder
+were contrary to the other. My mother-in-law's favorite physician was
+not in town, nor the resident surgeon. Another surgeon said that I must
+be bled; but my mother-in-law would not suffer it at that time. I was
+on the point of death for the want of proper assistance. My husband,
+not being able to see me, left me entirely to his mother. She would not
+allow any physician but her own to prescribe for me, and yet did not
+send for him, though he was within a day's journey. In this extremity I
+opened not my mouth. I looked for life or death from the hand of God,
+without testifying the least uneasiness. The peace I enjoyed within, on
+account of that perfect resignation, in which God kept me by His grace,
+was so great, that it made me forget myself, in the midst of oppressive
+disorders.
+
+The Lord's protection was indeed wonderful. How oft have I been reduced
+to extremity, yet He never failed to succor, when things appeared most
+desperate. It pleased Him so to order it, that the skillful surgeon,
+who had attended me before, passing by our house, inquired after me.
+They told him I was extremely ill. He alighted immediately, and came in
+to see me. Never was a man more surprised, when he saw the condition I
+was in. The smallpox, which could not come out, had fallen on my nose
+with such force, that it was quite black. He thought there had been
+gangrene and that it was going to fall off. My eyes were like two
+coals; but I was not alarmed. At that time I could have made a
+sacrifice of all things, and was pleased that God should avenge Himself
+on that face, which had betrayed me into so many infidelities. He also
+was so affrighted that he went into my mother-in-law's room and told
+her, that it was most shameful to let me die in that manner, for want
+of bleeding. She still opposed it violently so that in short she told
+him flatly that she would not suffer it, until the physician returned.
+He flew into such a rage at seeing me thus left without sending for the
+physician that he reproved my mother-in-law in the severest manner. But
+it was all in vain. He came up again presently and said, "If you
+choose, I will bleed you, and save your life." I held out my arm to
+him; and though it was extremely swelled, he bled me in an instant. My
+mother-in-law was in a violent passion. The smallpox came out
+immediately. He ordered that they should have me bled again in the
+evening, but she would not suffer it. Fear of displeasing my
+mother-in-law, and a total resignation of myself into the hands of God,
+I did not retain him.
+
+I am more particular to show how advantageous it is to resign one's
+self to God without reserve. Though in appearance He leaves us for a
+time to prove and exercise our faith, yet He never fails us, when our
+need of Him is the more pressing. One may say with the Scripture, "It
+is God who bringeth down to the gates of death, and raiseth up again."
+The blackness and swelling of my nose went away and I believe, had they
+continued to bleed me, I had been pretty easy. For want of that I grew
+worse again. The malady fell into my eyes, and inflamed them with such
+severe pain, that I thought I should lose them both.
+
+I had violent pains for three weeks during which time I got little
+sleep. I could not shut my eyes, they were so full of the smallpox, nor
+open them by reason of the pain. My throat, palate, and gums were
+likewise so filled with the pock, that I could not swallow broth, or
+take nourishment without suffering extremely. My whole body looked
+leprous. All that saw me said that they had never seen such a shocking
+spectacle. But as to my soul, it was kept in a contentment not to be
+expressed. The hopes of its liberty, by the loss of that beauty, which
+had so frequently brought me under bondage, rendered me so satisfied,
+and so united to God, that I would not have changed my condition for
+that of the most happy prince in the world.
+
+Everyone thought I would be inconsolable. Several expressed their
+sympathy in my sad condition, as they judged it. I lay still in the
+secret fruition of a joy unspeakable, in this total deprivation of what
+had been a snare to my pride, and to the passions of men. I praised God
+in profound silence. None ever heard any complaints from me, either of
+my pains or the loss I sustained. The only thing that I said was, that
+I rejoiced at, and was exceedingly thankful for the interior liberty I
+gained thereby; and they construed this as a great crime. My confessor,
+who had been dissatisfied with me before, came to see me. He asked me
+if I was not sorry for having the smallpox; and he now taxed me with
+pride for my answer.
+
+My youngest little boy took the distemper the same day with myself, and
+died for want of care. This blow indeed struck me to the heart, but
+yet, drawing strength from my weakness, I offered him up, and said to
+God as Job did, "Thou gavest him to me, and thou takest him from me;
+blessed be thy holy name." The spirit of sacrifice possessed me so
+strongly, that, though I loved this child tenderly, I never shed a tear
+at hearing of his death. The day he was buried, the doctor sent to tell
+me he had not placed a tombstone upon his grave, because my little girl
+could not survive him two days. My eldest son was not yet out of
+danger, so that I saw myself stripped of all my children at once, my
+husband indisposed, and myself extremely so. The Lord did not take my
+little girl then. He prolonged her life some years.
+
+At last my mother-in-law's physician arrived, at a time wherein he
+could be of but little service to me. When he saw the strange
+inflammation in my eyes, he bled me several times; but it was too late.
+And those bleedings which would have been so proper at first, did
+nothing but weaken me now. They could not even bleed me in the
+condition I was in but with the greatest difficulty. My arms were so
+swelled that the surgeon was obliged to push in the lance to a great
+depth. Moreover, the bleeding being out of season had liked to have
+caused my death. This, I confess, would have been very agreeable to me.
+I looked upon death as the greatest blessing for me. Yet I saw well I
+had nothing to hope in that side; and that, instead of meeting with so
+desirable an event, I must prepare myself to support the trials of
+life.
+
+After my eldest son was better, he got up and came into my room. I was
+surprised at the extraordinary change I saw in him. His face, lately so
+fair and beautiful, was become like a coarse spot of earth, all full of
+furrows. That gave me the curiosity to view myself. I felt shocked, for
+I saw that God had ordered the sacrifice in all its reality.
+
+Some things fell out by the contrariety of my mother-in-law that caused
+me severe crosses. They put the finishing stroke to my son's face.
+However, my heart was firm in God, and strengthened itself by the
+number and greatness of my sufferings. I was as a victim incessantly
+offered upon the altar, to HIM who first sacrificed Himself for love.
+"What shall I render to the Lord, for all his benefits toward me? I
+will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord."
+These words, I can truly say, O my God, have been the delight of my
+heart, and have had their effect on me, through my whole life; for I
+have been continually heaped with thy blessings and thy cross. My
+principal attraction, besides that of suffering for Thee, has been to
+yield myself up without resistance, interiorly and exteriorly, to all
+Thy divine disposals. These gifts which I was favored with from the
+beginning, have continued and increased until now Thou hast Thyself
+guided my continual crosses, and led me through paths impenetrable to
+all but thee.
+
+They sent me pomatums to recover my complexion, and to fill up the
+hollows of the smallpox. I had seen wonderful effects from it upon
+others, and therefore at first had a mind to try them. But, jealous of
+God's work, I would not suffer it. There was a voice in my heart which
+said, "If I would have had thee fair, I would have left thee as thou
+wert." I was therefore obliged to lay aside every remedy, and to go
+into the air, which made the pitting worse; to expose myself in the
+street when the redness of the smallpox was at the worst, in order to
+make my humiliation triumph, where I had exalted my pride.
+
+My husband kept to his bed almost all that time, and made good use of
+his indisposition. Only as he now lost that, which before gave him so
+much pleasure in viewing me, he grew much more susceptible to
+impressions which any gave him against me. In consequence of this, the
+persons who spoke to him to my disadvantage, finding themselves now
+better hearkened to, spoke more boldly and more frequently.
+
+There was only Thou, O my God, who changed not for me. Thou didst
+redouble my interior graces, in proportion as Thou didst augment my
+exterior crosses.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 16
+
+
+My maid became every day more haughty. Seeing that her scoldings and
+outcries did not now torment me, she thought, if she could hinder me
+from going to the communion, she would give me the greatest of all
+vexations.
+
+She was not mistaken, O divine Spouse of pure souls, since the only
+satisfaction of my life was to receive and to honor Thee. I gave
+everything, of the finest I had, to furnish the churches with
+ornaments, and contributed to the utmost extent of my abilities, to
+make them have silver plates and chalices.
+
+"Oh, my Love," I cried, "let me be thy victim! Spare nothing to
+annihilate me." I felt an inexpressible longing to be more reduced, and
+to become, as it were, nothing.
+
+This girl then knew my affection for the holy sacrament, where, when I
+could have liberty for it, I passed several hours on my knees. She took
+it in her head to watch me daily. When she discovered me going, she ran
+to tell my mother-in-law and my husband. There needed no more to
+chagrin them. Their invectives lasted the whole day. If a word escaped
+me in my own justification, it was enough to make them say that I was
+guilty of sacrilege, and to raise an outcry against all devotion. If I
+made them no answer at all, they still heightened their indignation,
+and said the most grating things they could devise. If I fell sick,
+which often happened, they took occasion to come to quarrel with me at
+my bed, saying, my communion and prayers were what made me sick. They
+spoke as if there had been nothing else could make me ill, but my
+devotion to Thee, O my Beloved!
+
+She told me one day that she was going to write to my director to get
+him to stop me from going to the communion. When I made no answer, she
+cried out as loud as she could, that I treated her ill and despised
+her. When I went to prayers, (though I had taken care to arrange
+everything about the house) she ran to tell my husband that I was going
+and had left nothing in order. When I returned home his rage fell on me
+in all its violence. They would hear none of my reasons, but said,
+"they were all a pack of lies." My mother-in-law persuaded my husband
+that I let everything go to wreck. If she did not take the care of
+things he would be ruined. He believed it, and I bore all with
+patience, endeavoring, as well as I could, to do my duty. What gave
+most trouble was the not knowing what course to take; for when I
+ordered anything without her, she complained that I showed her no
+respect, that I did things of my own head and that they were done
+always the worse for it. Then she would order them contrary. If I
+consulted her to know what, or how she would have anything to be done,
+she said that I compelled her to have the care and trouble of
+everything.
+
+I had scarcely any rest but what I found in the love of Thy will, O my
+God, and submission to Thy orders, however rigorous they might be. They
+incessantly watched my words and actions, to find occasion against me.
+They chided me all the day long, continually repeating, and harping
+over and over the same things, even before the servants. How often have
+I made my meals on my tears, which were interpreted as the most
+criminal in the world! They said, I would be damned; as if the tears
+would open Hell for me, which surely they were more likely to
+extinguish. If I recited anything I had heard, they would render me
+accountable for the truth of it. If I kept silence, they taxed me with
+contempt and perverseness; if I knew anything without telling it, that
+was a crime; if I told it, then they said I had forged it. Sometimes
+they tormented me for several days successively, without giving me any
+relaxation. The girls said, "I ought to feign sickness, to get a little
+rest." I made no reply. The love of God so closely possessed me, that
+it would not allow me to seek relief by a single word, or even by a
+look. Sometimes I said in myself, "Oh, that I had but any one who could
+take notice of me, or to whom I might unburden myself,--what a relief
+it would be to me!" But it was not granted me.
+
+Yet, if I happened to be for some days freed from the exterior cross,
+it was a most sensible distress to me, and indeed a punishment more
+difficult to bear than the severest trials. I then comprehended what
+St. Teresa says, "Let me suffer or die." For this absence of the cross
+was so grievous to me, that I languished with desire for its return.
+But no sooner was this earnest longing granted, and the blessed cross
+returned again, than strange as it may seem, it appeared so weighty and
+burdensome, as to be almost insupportable.
+
+Though I loved my father extremely, and he loved me tenderly, yet I
+never spoke to him of my sufferings. One of my relations, who loved me
+very much, perceived the little moderation they used toward me. They
+spoke very roughly to me before him. He was highly displeased, and told
+my father of it, adding, that I would pass for a fool. Soon after I
+went to see my father, who, contrary to his custom, sharply reprimanded
+me, "for suffering them to treat me in such a manner, without saying
+anything in my own defence." I answered, "If they knew what my husband
+said to me, that was confusion enough for me, without my bringing any
+more of it on myself by replies; that if they did not notice it, I
+ought not to cause it to be observed, nor expose my husband's weakness;
+that remaining silent stopped all disputes, whereas I might cause them
+to be continued and increased by my replies." My father answered that I
+did well, and that I should continue to act as God should inspire me.
+And after that, he never spoke to me of it any more.
+
+They were ever talking to me against my father, against my relations,
+and all such as I esteemed most. I felt this more keenly than all they
+could say against myself. I could not forbear defending them, and
+therein I did wrong; as whatever I said served only to provoke them. If
+any complained of my father or relations, they were always in the
+right. If any, whom they had disliked before, spoke against them, they
+were presently approved of. If any showed friendship to me, such were
+not welcome. A relation whom I greatly loved for her piety, coming to
+see me, they openly bid her begone. They treated her in such a manner
+as obliged her to go, which gave me no small uneasiness. When any
+person of distinction came, they would speak against me; even to those
+who knew me not, which surprised them. But when they saw me they pitied
+me.
+
+It mattered not what they said against me, love would not allow me to
+justify myself. I spoke not to my husband of what either my
+mother-in-law or the girl did to me, except the first year, when I was
+not sufficiently touched with the power of God to suffer. My
+mother-in-law and my husband often quarrelled. Then I was in favor, and
+to me they made their mutual complaints. I never told the one what the
+other had said. And though it might have been of service to me, humanly
+speaking, to take advantage of such opportunities, I never made use of
+them to complain of either. Nay, on the contrary, I did not rest till I
+had reconciled them. I spoke many obliging things of the one to the
+other, which made them friends again. I knew by frequent experience
+that I should pay dear for their reunion. Scarcely were they reconciled
+when they joined together against me.
+
+I was so deeply engaged within, as often to forget things without, yet
+not anything which was of consequence. My husband was hasty, and
+inattention frequently irritated him. I walked into the garden, without
+observing anything. When my husband, who could not go thither, asked me
+about it, I knew not what to say, at which he was angry. I went thither
+on purpose to notice everything, in order to tell him and yet when
+there did not think of looking. I went ten times one day, to see and
+bring him an account and yet forgot it. But when I did remember to
+look, I was much pleased. Yet it happened I was then asked nothing
+about them.
+
+All my crosses to me would have seemed little, if I might have had
+liberty to pray and to be alone, to indulge the interior attraction
+which I felt. But I was obliged to continue in their presence, with
+such a subjection as is scarcely conceivable. My husband looked at his
+watch, if at any time I had liberty allowed me for prayer, to see if I
+stayed more than half an hour. If I exceeded, he grew very uneasy.
+Sometimes I said, "Grant me one hour to divert and employ myself as I
+have a mind." Though he would have granted it to me for other
+diversions, yet for prayer he would not. I confess that inexperience
+caused me much trouble. I have often thereby given occasion for what
+they made me suffer. For ought I not to have looked on my captivity as
+an effect of the will of my God, to content myself and to make it my
+only desire and prayer? But I often fell back again into the anxiety of
+wishing to get time for prayer, which was not agreeable to my husband.
+Those faults were more frequent in the beginning. Afterward I prayed to
+God in His own retreat, in the temple of my heart, and I went out no
+more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 17
+
+
+We went into the country, where I committed many faults. I thought I
+might do it then because my husband diverted himself with building. If
+I stayed from him he was dissatisfied. That sometimes happened as he
+was continually talking with the workmen. I set myself in a corner, and
+there had my work with me, but could scarcely do anything by reason of
+the force of the attraction which made the work fall out of my hands. I
+passed whole hours this way, without being able either to open my eyes
+or know what passed; but I had nothing to wish for, nor yet to be
+afraid of. Everywhere I found my proper center, because everywhere I
+found God.
+
+My heart could then desire nothing but what it had. This disposition
+extinguished all its desires; and I sometimes said to myself, "What
+wantest thou? What fearest thou?" I was surprised to find upon trial
+that I had nothing to fear. Every place I was in was my proper place.
+
+As I had generally no time allowed me for prayer but with difficulty,
+and would not be suffered to rise till seven o'clock, I stole up at
+four, and kneeling in my bed, I wished not to offend my husband and
+strove to be punctual and assiduous in everything. But this soon
+affected my health and injured my eyes, which were still weak. It was
+but eight months since I had the smallpox. This loss of rest brought a
+heavy trial upon me. Even my sleeping hours were much broken, by the
+fear of not waking in time, I insensibly dropped asleep at my prayers.
+In the half hour that I got after dinner, though I felt quite wakeful,
+the drowsiness overpowered me. I endeavored to remedy this by the
+severest bodily inflictions, but in vain.
+
+As we had not yet built the chapel, and were far from any church, I
+could not go to prayers or sacrament without the permission of my
+husband. He was very reluctant to permit me, except on Sundays and
+holidays. I could not go out in the coach, so that I was obliged to
+make use of some stratagems, and to get service performed very early in
+the morning, to which, feeble as I was, I made an effort to creep on
+foot. It was a quarter of a league distant. Really God wrought wonders
+for me. Generally, in the mornings when I went to prayers, my husband
+did not awake until after I was returned. Often, as I was going out,
+the weather was so cloudy, that the girl I took with me told me that I
+could not go; or if I did, I should be soaked with the rain. I answered
+her with my usual confidence, "God will assist us." I generally reached
+the chapel without being wet. While there the rain fell excessively.
+When I returned it ceased. When I got home it began again with fresh
+violence. During several years that I have acted this way, I have never
+been deceived in my confidence. When I was in town, and could find
+nobody, I was surprised that there came to me priests to ask me if I
+was willing to receive the communion, and that if I was they would give
+it to me. I had no mind to refuse the opportunity which Thou thyself
+offered me; for I had no doubt of its being Thee who inspired them to
+propose it. Before I had contrived to get divine service at the chapel
+I have mentioned, I have often suddenly awoke with a strong impulse to
+go to prayers. My maid would say, "But, madam, you are going to tire
+yourself in vain. There will be no service." For that chapel was not
+yet regularly served. I went full of faith and at my arrival have found
+them just ready to begin. If I could particularly enumerate the
+remarkable providences which were hereupon given in my favor there
+would be enough to fill whole volumes.
+
+When I wanted to hear from, or write to Mother Granger, I often felt a
+strong propensity to go to the door. There to find a messenger with a
+letter from her. This is only a small instance of these kind of
+continual providences. She was the only person I could be free to open
+my heart to, when I could get to see her, which was with the greatest
+difficulty. It was through providential assistance; because prohibited
+by my confessor and husband. I placed an extreme confidence in Mother
+Granger. I concealed nothing from her either of sins or pains. I did
+not now practice any austerities but those she was willing to allow me.
+My interior dispositions I was scarcely able to tell because I knew not
+how to explain myself, being very ignorant of those matters, having
+never read or heard of them.
+
+One day when they thought I was going to see my father, I ran off to
+Mother Granger. It was discovered, and cost me crosses. Their rage
+against me was so excessive, that it would seem incredible. Even my
+writing to her was extremely difficult. I had the utmost abhorrence of
+a lie, so I forbade the footman to tell any. When they were met they
+were asked whither they were going, and if they had any letters. My
+mother-in-law set herself in a little passage, through which those who
+went out must necessarily pass. She asked them whither they were going
+and what they carried. Sometimes going on foot to the Benedictines, I
+caused shoes to be carried, that they might not perceive by the dirty
+ones that I had been far. I dared not go alone; those who attended me
+had orders to tell of every place I went. If they were discovered to
+fail, they were either corrected or discharged.
+
+My husband and mother-in-law were always inveighing against that good
+woman, though in reality they esteemed her. I sometimes made my own
+complaint and she replied, "How should you content them, when I have
+been doing all in my power for twenty years to satisfy them without
+success?" For as my mother-in-law had two daughters under her care, she
+was always finding something to say against everything she did in
+regard to them.
+
+But the most sensible cross to me now was the revolting of my own son
+against me. They inspired him with so great a contempt for me, that I
+could not bear to see him without extreme affliction. When I was in my
+room with some of my friends, they sent him to listen to what we said.
+As he saw this pleased them, he invented a hundred things to tell them.
+If I caught him in a lie, as I frequently did, he would upbraid me,
+saying, "My grandmother says you have been a greater liar than I." I
+answered, "Therefore I know the deformity of that vice, and how hard a
+thing it is to get the better of it; and for this reason, I would not
+have you suffer the like." He spoke to me things very offensive.
+Because he saw the awe I stood in of his grandmother and his father, if
+in their absence I found fault with him for anything, he insultingly
+upbraided me. He said that now I wanted to be set up over him because
+they were not there. All this they approved of. One day he went to see
+my father and rashly began talking against me to him, as he was used to
+doing to his grandmother. But there it did not meet with the same
+recompense. It affected my father to tears. Father came to our house to
+desire he might be corrected for it. They promised it should be done,
+and yet they never did it. I was grievously afraid of the consequences
+of so bad an education. I told Mother Granger of it, who said that
+since I could not remedy it, I must suffer and leave everything to God.
+This child would be my cross.
+
+Another great cross was the difficulty I had in attending my husband. I
+knew he was displeased when I was not with him; yet when I was with
+him, he never expressed any pleasure. On the contrary, he only rejected
+with scorn whatever office I performed. He was so difficult with me
+about everything, that I sometimes trembled when I approached him. I
+could do nothing to his liking; and when I did not attend him he was
+angry. He had taken such a dislike to soups, that he could not bear the
+sight of them. Those that offered them had a rough reception. Neither
+his mother nor any of the domestics would carry them to him. There was
+none but I who did not refuse that office. I brought them and let his
+anger pass; then I tried in some agreeable manner to prevail on him to
+take them. I said to him, "I had rather be reprimanded several times a
+day, than let you suffer by not bringing you what is proper." Sometimes
+he took; at other times he pushed them back.
+
+When he was in a good humor and I was carrying something agreeable to
+him, then my mother-in-law would snatch it out of my hands. She would
+carry it herself. As he thought I was not so careful and studious to
+please him he would fly in a rage against me and express great
+thankfulness to his mother. I used all my skill and endeavors to gain
+my mother-in-law's favor by my presents, my services; but could not
+succeed.
+
+"How bitter and grievous, O my God, would such a life be were it not
+for Thee! Thou hast sweetened and reconciled it to me." I had a few
+short intervals from this severe and mortifying life. These served only
+to make the reverses more keen and bitter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 18
+
+
+About eight or nine months after my recovery from the smallpox, Father
+La Combe, passing by our house, brought me a letter from Father de la
+Motte, recommending him to my esteem, and expressing the highest
+friendship for him. I hesitated because I was very loath to make new
+acquaintances. The fear of offending my brother prevailed. After a
+short conversation we both desired a farther opportunity. I thought
+that he either loved God, or was disposed to love Him, and I wished
+everybody to love Him. God had already made use of me for the
+conversion of three of his order. The strong desire he had of seeing me
+again induced him to come to our country house about half a league from
+the town. A little incident which happened opened a way for me to speak
+to him. As he was in discourse with my husband, who relished his
+company, he was taken ill and retired into the garden. My husband bade
+me go and see what was the matter. He told me he had noticed in my
+countenance a deep inwardness and presence of God, which had given him
+a strong desire of seeing me again. God then assisted me to open to him
+the interior path of the soul, and conveyed so much grace to him
+through this poor channel, that he went away changed into quite another
+man. I preserved an esteem for him; for it appeared to me that he would
+be devoted to God; but little did I then foresee, that I should ever be
+led to the place where he was to reside.
+
+My disposition at this time was a continual prayer, without knowing it
+to be such. The presence of God was so plentifully given that it seemed
+to be more in me than my very self. The sensibility thereof was so
+powerful, so penetrating, it seemed to me irresistible. Love took from
+me all liberty of my own. At other times I was so dry, I felt nothing
+but the pain of absence, which was the keener to me, as the divine
+presence had before been so sensible. In these alternatives I forgot
+all my troubles and pains. It appeared to me as if I had never
+experienced any. In its absence, it seemed as if it would never return
+again. I still thought it was through some fault of mine it was
+withdrawn, and that rendered me inconsolable. Had I known it had been a
+state through which it was necessary to pass, I should not have been
+troubled. My strong love to the will of God would have rendered
+everything easy to me. The property of this prayer was to give a great
+love to the order of God, with so sublime and perfect a reliance on
+Him, as to fear nothing, whether danger, thunders, spirits, or death.
+It gives a great abstraction from one's self, our own interests and
+reputation, with an utter disregard to everything of the kind--all
+being swallowed up in the esteem of the will of God.
+
+At home, I was accused of everything that was ill done, spoiled or
+broken. At first I told the truth, and said it was not I. They
+persisted, and accused me of lying. I then made no reply. Besides, they
+told all their tales to such as came to the house. But when I was
+afterward alone with the same persons, I never undeceived them. I often
+heard such things said of me, before my friends, as were enough to make
+them entertain a bad opinion. My heart kept its habitation in the tacit
+consciousness of my own innocence, not concerning myself whether they
+thought well or ill of me; excluding all the world, all opinions or
+censures, out of my view, I minded nothing else but the friendship of
+God.
+
+If through infidelity I happened at any time to justify myself, I
+always failed, and drew upon myself new crosses, both within and
+without. But notwithstanding all this, I was so enamored with it, that
+the greatest cross of all would have been to be without any. When the
+cross was taken from me for any short space, it seemed to me that it
+was because of the bad use I made of it; that my unfaithfulness
+deprived me of so great an advantage. I never knew its value better
+than its loss.
+
+I cried punish me any way, but take not the cross from me. This amiable
+cross returned to me with so much the more weight, as my desire was
+more vehement. I could not reconcile two things, they appeared to me so
+very opposite. 1) To desire the cross with so much ardor. 2) To support
+it with so much difficulty and pain.
+
+God knows well, in the admirable economy he observes, how to render the
+crosses more weighty, conformable to the ability of the creature to
+bear them. Hereby my soul began to be more resigned, to comprehend that
+the state of absence, and of wanting what I longed for, was in its turn
+more profitable than that of always abounding. This latter nourished
+self-love. If God did not act thus, the soul would never die to itself.
+That principle of self-love is so crafty and dangerous, that it cleaves
+to everything.
+
+What gave me most uneasiness, in this time of darkness and crucifixion,
+both within and without, was an inconceivable readiness to be quick and
+hasty. When any answer a little too lively escaped me, (which served
+not a little to humble me,) they said "I was fallen into a mortal sin."
+A conduct no less rigorous than this was quite necessary for me. I was
+so proud, passionate, and of a humor naturally thwarting, wanting
+always to carry matters my own way, thinking my own reasons better than
+those of others. Hadst thou, O my God, spared the strokes of thy
+hammer, I should never have been formed to Thy will, to be an
+instrument for Thy use; for I was ridiculously vain. Applause rendered
+me intolerable. I praised my friends to excess, and blamed others
+without reason. But, the more criminal I have been, the more I am
+indebted to Thee, and the less of any good can I attribute to myself.
+How blind are men who attribute to others the holiness that God gives
+them! I believe, my God, that thou hast had children, who under thy
+grace, owed much to their own fidelity. As for me, I owe all to Thee; I
+glory to confess it; I cannot acknowledge it too much.
+
+In acts of charity I was very assiduous. So great was my tenderness for
+the poor, that I wished to have supplied all their wants. I could not
+see their necessity without reproaching myself for the plenty I
+enjoyed. I deprived myself of all I could to help them. The very best
+at my table was distributed. There were few of the poor where I lived,
+who did not partake of my liberality. It seemed as if Thou hadst made
+me thy only almoner there, for being refused by others, they came to
+me. I cried, "it is Thy substance; I am only the steward. I ought to
+distribute it according to Thy will." I found means to relieve them
+without letting myself be known, because I had one who dispensed my
+alms privately. When there were families who were ashamed to take it in
+this way, I sent it to them as if I owed them a debt. I clothed such as
+were naked, and caused young girls to be taught how to earn their
+livelihood, especially those who were handsome; to the end that being
+employed, and having whereon to live, they might not be under a
+temptation to throw themselves away. God made use of me to reclaim
+several from their disorderly lives. I went to visit the sick, to
+comfort them, to make their beds. I made ointments, dressed their
+wounds, buried their dead. I privately furnished tradesmen and
+mechanics wherewith to keep up their shops. My heart was much opened
+toward my fellow creatures in distress. Few indeed could carry charity
+much farther than our Lord enabled me to do, according to my state,
+both while married and since.
+
+To purify me the more from the mixture I might make of His gifts with
+my own self-love, He gave me interior probations, which were very
+heavy. I began to experience an insupportable weight, in that very
+piety which had formerly been so easy and delightful to me; not that I
+did not love it extremely, but I found myself defective in that noble
+practice of it. The more I loved it, the more I labored to acquire what
+I saw failed in. But, alas! I seemed continually to be overcome by that
+which was the contrary to it. My heart, indeed, was detached from all
+sensual pleasures. For these several years past, it has seemed to me
+that my mind is so detached and absent from the body, that I do things
+as if I did them not. If I eat, or refresh myself, it is done with such
+an absence, or separation, as I wonder at, with an entire mortification
+of the keenness of sensation in all the natural functions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 19
+
+
+To resume my history, the smallpox had so much hurt one of my eyes,
+that it was feared I would lose it. The gland at the corner of my eye
+was injured. An imposthume arose from time to time between the nose and
+the eye, which gave me great pain till it was lanced. It swelled all my
+head to that degree that I could not bear even a pillow. The least
+noise was agony to me, though sometimes they made a great commotion in
+my chamber. Yet this was a precious time to me, for two reasons. First,
+because I was left in bed alone, where I had a sweet retreat without
+interruption; the other, because it answered the desire I had for
+suffering,--which desire was so great, that all the austerities of the
+body would have been but as a drop of water to quench so great a fire.
+Indeed the severities and rigors which I then exercised were extreme,
+but they did not appease this appetite for the cross. It is Thou alone,
+O Crucified Saviour, who canst make the cross truly effectual for the
+death of self. Let others bless themselves in their ease or gaiety,
+grandeur or pleasures, poor temporary heavens; for me, my desires were
+all turned another way, even to the silent path of suffering for
+Christ, and to be united to Him, through the mortification of all that
+was of nature in me, that my senses, appetites and will, being dead to
+these, might wholly live in Him.
+
+I obtained leave to go to Paris for the cure of my eye; and yet it was
+much more through the desire I had to see Monsieur Bertot, a man of
+profound experience, whom Mother Granger had lately assigned to me for
+my director. I went to take leave of my father, who embraced me with
+peculiar tenderness, little thinking then that it would be our last
+adieu.
+
+Paris was a place now no longer to be dreaded as in times past. The
+throngs only served to draw me into a deep recollection, and the noise
+of the streets augmented my inward prayer. I saw Monsieur Bertot, who
+did not prove of that service to me, which he would have been if I had
+then the power to explain myself. Though I wished earnestly to hide
+nothing from him, yet God held me so closely to Him, that I could
+scarcely tell anything at all. As soon as I spoke to him, everything
+vanished from my mind, so that I could remember nothing but some few
+faults. As I saw him very seldom, and nothing stayed in my
+recollection, and as I read of nothing any way resembling my case, I
+knew not how to explain myself. Besides, I desired to make nothing
+known, but the evil which was in me. Therefore Monsieur Bertot knew me
+not, even till his death. This was of great utility to me, by taking
+away every support, and making me truly die to myself.
+
+I went to pass the ten days, from the Ascension to Whitsuntide, at an
+abbey four leagues from Paris, the abbess of which had a particular
+friendship for me. Here my union with God seemed to be deeper and more
+continued, becoming always simple, at the same time more close and
+intimate.
+
+One day I awoke suddenly at four o'clock in the morning, with a strong
+impression on my mind that my father was dead. At the same time my soul
+was in a very great contentment, yet my love for him affected it with
+sorrow, and my body with weakness. Under the strokes and daily troubles
+which befell me, my will was so subservient to Thine, O my God, that it
+appeared absolutely united to it. There seemed, indeed, to be no will
+left in me but Thine only. My own disappeared, and no desires,
+tendencies or inclinations were left, but to the one sole object of
+whatever was most pleasing to Thee, be it what it would. If I had a
+will, it was in union with thine, as two well tuned lutes in concert.
+That which is not touched renders the same sound as that which is
+touched; it is but one and the same sound, one pure harmony. It is this
+union of the will which establishes in perfect peace. Yet, though my
+own will was lost I have found since, in the strange states I have been
+obliged to pass through, how much it had yet to cost me to have it
+totally lost. How many souls are there which think their own wills
+quite lost, while they are yet very far from it! They would find they
+still subsist, if they met with severe trials. Who is there who does
+not wish something for himself, either of interest, wealth, honor,
+pleasure, conveniency and liberty. He who thinks his mind loose from
+all these objects, because he possesses them, would soon perceive his
+attachment to them, were he stripped of those he possessed. If there
+are found in a whole age three persons so dead to everything, as to be
+utterly resigned to providence without any exception, they may well
+pass for prodigies of grace.
+
+In the afternoon as I was with the abbess, I told her I had strong
+presentiments of my father's death. Indeed I could hardly speak, I was
+so affected within. Presently one came to tell her that she was wanted
+in the parlor. It was a messenger come in haste, with an account from
+my husband that my father was ill. And as I afterward found, he
+suffered only twelve hours. He was therefore by this time dead. The
+abbess returning, said, "Here is a letter from your husband, who writes
+that your father is taken violently ill." I said to her, "He is dead, I
+cannot have a doubt about it."
+
+I sent away to Paris immediately, to hire a coach, to go the sooner;
+mine waited for me at the midway. I went off at nine o'clock at night.
+They said. I "was going to destroy myself." I had no acquaintance with
+me as I had sent away my maid to Paris, to put everything in order
+there. Being in a religious house, I had no mind to keep a footman with
+me. The abbess told me, that "since I thought my father was dead, it
+would be rashness in me to expose myself, and run the risk of my life
+in that manner. Coaches could hardly pass the way I was going, it being
+no beaten road." I answered, "It was my indispensable duty to go to
+assist my father, and that I ought not, on a bare apprehension, to
+exempt myself from it." I then went alone, abandoned to Providence,
+with people unknown. My weakness was so great, that I could hardly keep
+my seat in the coach. I was often forced to alight, on account of
+dangerous places in the road.
+
+In this way I was obliged, about midnight, to cross a forest, notorious
+for murders and robberies. The most intrepid dreaded it; but my
+resignation left me scarce any room to think at all about it. What
+fears and uneasiness does a resigned soul spare itself! All alone I
+arrived within five leagues of my own habitation, where I found my
+confessor who had opposed me, with one of my relations, waiting for me.
+The sweet consolation I had enjoyed, when alone, was now interrupted.
+My confessor, ignorant of my state, restrained me entirely. My grief
+was of such a nature that I could not shed a tear. And I was ashamed to
+hear a thing which I knew but too well, without giving any exterior
+mark of grief. The inward and profound peace I enjoyed dawned on my
+countenance. The state I was in did not permit me to speak, or to do
+such things as are usually expected from persons of piety. I could do
+nothing but love and be silent.
+
+I found on my arrival at home, that my father was already buried
+because of the excessive heat. It was ten o'clock at night. All wore
+the habit of mourning. I had traveled thirty leagues in a day and a
+night. As I was very weak, not having taken any nourishment, I was
+instantly put to bed.
+
+About two o'clock in the morning my husband got up, and having gone out
+of my chamber, he returned presently, crying out with all his might,
+"My daughter is dead!" She was my only daughter, as dearly beloved as
+truly lovely. She had so many graces both of body and mind conferred on
+her, that one must have been insensible not to have loved her. She had
+an extraordinary share of love to God. Often was she found in corners
+at prayer. As soon as she perceived me at prayer, she came and joined.
+If she discovered that I had been without her, she would weep bitterly
+and cry, "Ah, mamma, you pray but I don't." When we were alone and she
+saw my eyes closed she would whisper, "Are you asleep?" Then she would
+cry out, "Ah no, you are praying to our dear Jesus." Dropping on her
+knees before me she would begin to pray too. She was several times
+whipped by her grandmother, because she said, she would never have any
+other husband but our Lord. She could never make her say otherwise. She
+was innocent and modest as a little angel; very dutiful and endearing,
+and withal very beautiful. Her father doted on her, to me she was very
+dear, much more for the qualities of her mind than those of her
+beautiful person. I looked upon her as my only consolation on earth.
+She had as much affection for me, as her brother had aversion and
+contempt. She died of an unseasonable bleeding. But what shall I say?
+She died by the hands of Him who was pleased, for wise reasons of His
+own, to strip me of all.
+
+There now remained to me only the son of my sorrow. He fell ill to the
+point of death, but was restored at the prayer of Mother Granger who
+was now my only consolation after God. I no more wept for my child than
+for my father. I could only say, "Thou, O Lord, gave her to me; it
+pleases Thee to take her back again, for she was Thine." As for my
+father, his virtue was so generally known, that I must rather be
+silent, than enter upon the subject. His reliance on God, his faith and
+patience were wonderful. Both died in July, 1672. Henceforth crosses
+were not spared me, and though I had abundance of them hitherto, yet
+they were only the shadows of those which I have been since obliged to
+pass through. In this spiritual marriage I claimed for my dowry only
+crosses, scourges, persecutions, ignominies, lowliness, and nothingness
+of self, which in God's great goodness, and for wise ends, as I have
+seen, has been pleased to grant and confer upon me.
+
+One day, being in great distress on account of the redoubling of
+outward and inward crosses, I went into my closet to give vent to my
+grief. M. Bertot was brought into my mind, with this wish, "Oh, that he
+was sensible of what I suffer!" Though he wrote but very seldom, and
+with great difficulty, yet he wrote me a letter dated the same day
+about the cross. It was the finest and most consolatory he ever wrote
+me on that subject. Sometimes my spirit was so oppressed with continual
+crosses, which scarcely gave me any relaxation, that when alone my eyes
+turned every way, to see if they could find anything to give relief. A
+word, a sigh, a trifle, or to know that anyone took part in my grief,
+would have been some comfort. That was not granted me, not even to look
+toward Heaven, or to make any complaint. Love held me then so closely,
+that it would have this miserable nature to perish, without giving it
+any support or nourishment.
+
+Oh, my dearest Lord! Thou yet gavest my soul a victorious support,
+which made it triumph over all the weaknesses of nature, and seized Thy
+knife to sacrifice it without sparing. And yet this nature so perverse,
+and full of artifices to save its life, at last took the course of
+nourishing itself on its own despair, on its fidelity under such heavy
+and continual oppression. It sought to conceal the value it attributed
+thereto. But thy eyes were too penetrating not to detect the subtilty.
+Wherefore, thou, O my Shepherd, changed Thy conduct toward it. Thou
+sometimes comforted it with thy crook and Thy staff; that is to say, by
+Thy conduct as loving as crucifying; but it was only to reduce it to
+the last extremity, as I shall show hereafter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 20
+
+
+A lady of rank, whom I sometimes visited, took a particular liking to
+me, because (as she was pleased to say) my person and manners were
+agreeable. She said that she observed in me something extraordinary and
+uncommon. I believe it was the inward attraction of my soul that
+appeared on my very countenance. One day a gentleman of fashion said to
+my husband's aunt, "I saw the lady your niece; and it is very evident
+that she lives in the presence of God." I was surprised at this, as I
+little thought such an one as he could know what it was to have God
+thus present. This lady of rank began to be touched with the sense of
+God. Wanting once to take me to the play, I refused to go; (I never
+went to plays) making use of the pretext of my husband's continual
+indispositions. She pressed me exceedingly, and said, "I should not be
+prevented by his sickness from taking some amusement and I was not of
+an age to be confined with the sick like a nurse." I told her my
+reasons. She then perceived that it was more from a principle of piety,
+than the indispositions of my husband. Insisting to know my sentiment
+of plays, I told her, I entirely disapproved of them, and especially
+for a Christian woman. And as she was far more advanced in years than I
+was, what I then said made such an impression on her mind, she never
+went again.
+
+Once with her and another lady, who was fond of talking and who had
+read "the fathers," they spoke much of God. This lady spoke learnedly
+of Him. I said scarcely anything, being inwardly drawn to silence, and
+troubled at this conversation about God. My acquaintance came next day
+to see me. The Lord had so touched her heart, she could hold out no
+longer. I attributed this to something the other lady had said, but she
+said to me, "Your silence had something in it which penetrated to the
+bottom of my soul. I could not relish what the other said." We spoke to
+one another with open hearts.
+
+It was then that God left indelible impressions of His grace on her
+soul, and she continued so athirst for Him, that she could scarcely
+endure to converse on any other subject. That she might become wholly
+His, He deprived her of a most affectionate husband. He visited her
+with such severe crosses, and at the same time poured His grace so
+abundantly into her heart, that He soon became the sole master thereof.
+After the death of her husband, and the loss of most of her fortune,
+she went to reside four leagues from our house, on a small estate,
+which was left. She obtained my husband's consent to my going to spend
+a week with her, to console her. God gave her by my means all she
+wanted. She had a great share of understanding, but was surprised at my
+expressing things to her so far above my natural capacity. I should
+have been surprised at it myself. It was God who gave me the gift for
+her sake, diffusing a flood of grace into her soul, without regarding
+the unworthiness of the channel of which He was pleased to make use.
+Since that time her soul has been the temple of the Holy Ghost, and our
+hearts have been indissolubly united.
+
+My husband and I took a little journey together, in which both my
+resignation and humility were exercised, yet without difficulty or
+constraint, so powerful was the influence of divine grace. We had all
+liked to have perished in a river. The rest of the company in desperate
+fright threw themselves out of the coach, which sunk in the moving
+sand. I continued so much inwardly occupied, that I did not once think
+of the danger. God delivered me from it without my thought of avoiding
+it. I was quite content to be drowned, had He permitted it. It may be
+said, "I was rash." I believe I was so; yet I rather chose to perish,
+trusting in God, than make my escape in a dependence on myself. What
+say I? We do not perish, but for want of trusting Him. My pleasure is
+to be indebted to Him for everything. This renders me content in my
+miseries, which I would rather endure all my life long, in a state of
+resignation to Him, than put an end to them, in a dependence on myself.
+However, I would not advise others to act thus, unless they were in the
+same disposition which I was in.
+
+As my husband's maladies daily increased, he resolved to go to St.
+Reine. He appeared very desirous of having none but me with him, and
+told me one day, "If they never spoke to me against you, I should be
+more easy, and you more happy." In this journey I committed many faults
+of self-love and self-seeking. I was become like a poor traveler that
+had lost his way in the night and could find no way, path, or track. My
+husband, in his return from St. Reine, passed by St. Edm. Having now no
+children but my first-born son, who was often at the gates of death, he
+wished exceedingly for heirs, and prayed for them earnestly. God
+granted his desire, and gave me a second son. As I was several weeks
+without any one daring to speak to me, on account of my great weakness,
+it was a time of retreat and of silence. I tried to indemnify myself
+for the loss of time I had sustained in the others, to pray to Thee, O
+my God, and to continue alone with Thee. I may say that God took a new
+possession of me, and left me not. It was a time of continual joy
+without interruption. As I had experienced many inward difficulties and
+weaknesses it was a new life. It seemed as if I was already in the
+fruition of beatitude. How dear did this happy time cost me, since it
+was only a preparative to a total privation of comfort for several
+years, without any support, or hope of return! It began with the death
+of Mrs. Granger, who had been my only consolation under God. Before my
+return from St. Reine I heard she was dead.
+
+When I received this news, I confess it was the most afflicting stroke
+I had ever felt. I thought that had I been with her at her death I
+might have spoken to her and received her last instructions. God has so
+ordered it that I was deprived of her assistance in almost all my
+losses, in order to render the strokes more painful. Some months indeed
+before her death, it was shown to me, that though I could not see her
+but with difficulty, and suffering for it, yet she was still some
+support to me. The Lord let me know that it would be profitable for me
+to be deprived of her. But at the time she died I did not think so. It
+was in that trying season when my paths were all blocked up, she was
+taken from me. She who might have guided me in my lonesome and
+difficult road, bounded as it were with precipices, and entangled with
+briars and thorns.
+
+Adorable conduct of my God! there must be no guide for the person whom
+Thou art leading into the regions of darkness and death, no conductor
+for the man whom thou art determined to destroy, (that is, to cause to
+die totally to himself). After having saved me with much mercy, after
+having led me by the hand in rugged paths, it seems Thou wast bent on
+my destruction. May it not be said that Thou dost not save but to
+destroy, nor go to seek the lost sheep, but to cause it to be yet more
+lost; that Thou art pleased in building what is demolished, and in
+demolishing what is built. Thou wouldst overturn the temple built by
+human endeavors, with so much care and industry, in order as it were
+miraculously to erect a divine structure, a house not built with hands,
+eternal in the Heavens. Secrets of the incomprehensible wisdom of God,
+unknown to any besides Himself! Man, sprung up only of a few days,
+wants to penetrate, and to set bounds to it. Who is it that hath known
+the mind of the Lord, or who hath been His counselor? Is it a wisdom
+only to be known through death to everything, and through the entire
+loss of all self?
+
+My brother now openly showed his hatred for me. He married at Orleans
+and my husband had the complaisance to go to his marriage. He was in a
+poor state of health, the roads bad, and so covered over with snow,
+that we had like to have been overturned twelve or fifteen times. Yet
+far from appearing obliged by his politeness, my brother quarreled with
+him more than ever, and without reason. I was the butt of both their
+resentments. While I was at Orleans, meeting with one whom at that time
+I thought highly of, I was too forward and free in speaking to him of
+spiritual things, thinking I was doing well, but had a remorse for it
+afterwards. How often we mistake nature for grace! One must be dead to
+self, when such fowardness comes from God only.
+
+My brother treated me with the utmost contempt. Yet, my mind was so
+fully drawn inward, that although we had much more danger on the road
+than when going, I had no thought about myself, but all about my
+husband. Seeing the coach overturning, I said, "Fear not, it is on my
+side that it falls; it will not hurt you." I believe, had all perished,
+I should not have been moved. My peace was so profound that nothing
+could shake it. If these times continued, we should be too strong. They
+now began to come but seldom and were followed with long and wearisome
+privations. Since that time my brother has changed for the better, and
+has turned on the side of God, but he has never turned to me. It has
+been by particular permission of God, and the conduct of His providence
+over my soul, that has caused him and other religious persons, who have
+persecuted me, to think they were rendering glory to God, and doing
+acts of justice therein. Indeed, it is just that all creatures should
+be treacherous to me, and declare against me, who have too many times
+been treacherous to God, and sided with His enemy.
+
+After this there was a very perplexing affair. To me it caused great
+crosses, and seemed designed for nothing else. A certain person
+conceived so much malice against my husband, that he was determined to
+ruin him if possible. He found no other way to attempt it, but by
+entering into a private engagement with my brother. He obtained a power
+to demand, in the name of the king's brother, two hundred thousand
+livres, which he pretended that my brother and I owed him. My brother
+signed the processes, upon an assurance given him that he should not
+pay anything. I think his youth engaged him in what he did not
+understand. This affair so chagrined my husband, that I have reason to
+believe it shortened his days. He was so angry with me (although I was
+innocent), that he could not speak to me except in a fury. He would
+give me no light into the affair, and I did not know in what it
+consisted. In the height of his rage, he said he would not meddle with
+it, but give me my portion, and let me live as I could. On the other
+side, my brother would not move in it, nor suffer anything to be done.
+The day of the trial, after prayer, I felt myself strongly pressed to
+go to the judges. I was wonderfully assisted even so as to discover and
+unravel all the turns and artifices of this affair, without knowing how
+I could have been able to do it. The first judge was so surprised to
+see the affair so different from what he had thought it before, that he
+himself exhorted me to go to the other judges, and especially to the
+intendant, who was just then going to court. He was quite misinformed
+about the matter. God enabled me to manifest the truth in so clear a
+light, and gave such power to my words, that the intendant thanked me
+for having so seasonably come to undeceive, and set him right. Had I
+not done this, he assured me the cause had been lost. As they saw the
+falsehood of every point, they would have condemned the plaintiff to
+pay the costs, if he had not been so great a prince, who lent his name
+to the scheme. To save the honor of the prince they ordered us to pay
+him fifty crowns. Hereby the two hundred thousand livres were reduced
+to only one hundred and fifty. My husband was exceedingly pleased at
+what I had done. My brother appeared as outrageous against me, as if I
+had caused him some great loss. Thus moderately and at once ended an
+affair, which had at first appeared so very weighty and alarming.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 21
+
+
+About this time I fell into a state of total privation which lasted
+nearly seven years. I seemed to myself cast down like Nebuchadnezzar,
+to live among beasts; a deplorable state, yet of the greatest advantage
+to me, by the use which divine wisdom made of it. This state of
+emptiness, darkness, and impotency, went far beyond any trials I had
+ever yet met. I have since experienced, that the prayer of the heart
+when it appears most dry and barren, nevertheless is not ineffectual
+nor offered in vain. God gives what is best for us, though not what we
+most relish or wish for. Were people but convinced of this truth, they
+would be far from complaining all their lives. By causing us death He
+would procure us life; for all our happiness, spiritual, temporal and
+eternal, consists in resigning ourselves to God, leaving it to Him to
+do in us and with us as He pleases, and with so much the more
+submission; as things please us less. By this pure dependence on His
+Spirit, everything is given us admirably. Our very weaknesses, in His
+hand, prove a source of humilition. If the soul were faithful to leave
+itself in the hand of God, sustaining all His operations whether
+gratifying or mortifying, suffering itself to be conducted, from moment
+to moment, by His hand, and annihilated by the strokes of His
+Providence, without complaining, or desiring anything but what it has;
+it would soon arrive at the experience of the eternal truth, though it
+might not at once know the ways and methods by which God conducted it
+there.
+
+People want to direct God instead of resigning themselves to be
+directed by Him. They want to show Him a way, instead of passively
+following that wherein He leads them. Hence many souls, called to enjoy
+God Himself, and not barely His gifts, spend all their lives in running
+after little consolations, and feeding on them--resting there only,
+making all their happiness to consist therein.
+
+If my chains and my imprisonment in any way afflict you, I pray that
+they may serve to engage you to seek nothing but God for Himself alone,
+and never to desire to possess Him but by the death of your whole
+selves, never to seek to be something in the ways of the Spirit, but
+choose to enter into the most profound nothingness.
+
+I had an internal strife, which continually racked me--two powers which
+appeared equally strong seemed equally to struggle for the mastery
+within me. On the one hand, a desire of pleasing Thee, O my God, a fear
+of offending, and a continual tendency of all my powers to Thee--on the
+other side, the view of all my inward corruptions, the depravity of my
+heart, and the continual stirring and rising of self. What torrents of
+tears, what desolations have these cost me? "Is it possible," I cried,
+"that I have received so many graces and favors from God only to lose
+them;--that I have loved Him with so much ardor, but to be eternally
+deprived of Him; that His benefits have only produced ingratitude; His
+fidelity been repaid with infidelity; that my heart has been emptied of
+all creatures, and created objects, and filled with His blessed
+presence and love, in order now to be wholly void of divine power, and
+only filled with wanderings and created objects!"
+
+I could now no longer pray as formerly. Heaven seemed shut to me, and I
+thought justly. I could get no consolation or make any complaint; nor
+had I any creature on earth to apply to. I found myself banished from
+all beings without finding a support of refuge in anything. I could no
+more practice any virtue with facility. "Alas!" said I, "is it possible
+that this heart, formerly all on fire, should now become like ice!" I
+often thought all creatures combined against me. Laden with a weight of
+past sins, and a multitude of new ones, I could not think God would
+ever pardon me, but looked on myself as a victim designed for Hell. I
+would have been glad to do penances, to make use of prayers,
+pilgrimages, and vows. But still, whatever I tried for a remedy seemed
+only to increase the malady. I may say that tears were my drink, and
+sorrow my food. I felt in myself such a pain as I never could bring any
+to comprehend, but such as have experienced it. I had within myself an
+executioner who tortured me without respite. Even when I went to
+church, I was not easy there. To sermons I could give no attention;
+they were now of no service or refreshment to me. I scarcely conceived
+or understood anything in them, or about them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 22
+
+
+As my husband drew near his end, his distempers had no intermission. No
+sooner was he recovered from one when he fell into another. He bore
+great pains with much patience offering them to God and making a good
+use of them. Yet his anger toward me increased, because reports and
+stories of me were multiplied to him, and those about him did nothing
+but vex him. He was the more susceptible of such impressions, as his
+pains gave him a stronger bent to vexation. At this time, the maid, who
+used to torment me sometimes took pity on me. She came to see me as
+soon as I was gone into my closet, and said, "Come to my master that
+your mother-in-law may not speak any more to him against you." I
+pretended to be ignorant of it all but he could not conceal his
+displeasure, nor even suffer me near him. My mother-in-law at the same
+time kept no bounds. All that came to the house were witnesses of the
+continual scoldings, which I was forced to bear, and which I bore with
+much patience, notwithstanding my being in the condition I have
+mentioned.
+
+My husband having, sometime before his death, finished the building of
+the chapel in the country, where we spent a part of the summer, I had
+the conveniency of hearing prayers every day, and of the communion. Not
+daring to do it openly every day, the priest privately admitted me to
+the communion. They solemnized the dedication of this little chapel. I
+felt myself all on a sudden inwardly seized, which continued more than
+five hours, all the time of the ceremony, when our Lord made a new
+consecration of me to Himself. I then seemed to myself a temple
+consecrated to Him, both for time and for eternity. I said within
+myself, (speaking both of the one and the other) "May this temple never
+be profaned; may the praises of God be sung therein forever!" It seemed
+to me at that time as if my prayer was granted. But soon all this was
+taken from me, and not so much as any remembrance left to console me.
+
+When I was at this country house, which was only a little place of
+retreat before the chapel was built, I retired for prayer to woods and
+caverns. How many times, here, has God preserved me from dangerous and
+venomous beasts! Sometimes, unawares, I kneeled upon serpents, which
+were there in great plenty; they fled away without doing me any harm.
+Once I happened to be alone in a little wood wherein was a mad bull;
+but he betook himself to flight. If I could recount all the providences
+of God in my favor, it would appear wonderful. They were indeed so
+frequent and continual, that I could not but be astonished at them. God
+everlastingly gives to such as have nothing to repay Him. If there
+appears in the creature any fidelity or patience, it is He alone who
+gives it. If He ceases for an instant to support, if He seems to leave
+me to myself, I cease to be strong, and find myself weaker than any
+other creature. If my miseries show what I am, His favors show what He
+is, and the extreme necessity I am under of ever depending on Him.
+
+After twelve years and four months of marriage, crosses as great as
+possible, except poverty which I never knew, though I had much desired
+it, God drew me out of that state to give me still stronger crosses of
+such a nature as I had never met with before. For if you give
+attention, sir, to the life which you have ordered me to write, you
+will remark that my crosses have been increasing till the present time,
+one removed to give place to another to succeed it, still heavier than
+the former. Amid the troubles imposed upon me, when they said, I "was
+in a mortal sin," I had nobody in the world to speak to. I could have
+wished to have had somebody for a witness of my conduct; but I had
+none. I had no support, no confessor, no director, no friend, no
+councillor. I had lost all. And after God had taken from me one after
+another, He withdrew also Himself. I remained without any creature; and
+to complete my distress, I seemed to be left without God, who alone
+could support me in such a deeply distressing state.
+
+My husband's illness grew every day more obstinate. He apprehended the
+approach of death, and even wished for it, so oppressive was
+languishing life. To his other ills was great dislike to every sort of
+nourishment; he did not take anything necessary to sustain life. I
+alone had the courage to get him to take what little he did. The doctor
+advised him to go to the country. There for a few days at first he
+seemed to be better, when he was suddenly taken with a complication of
+diseases. His patience increased his pain. I saw plainly he could not
+live long. It was a great trouble to me, that my mother-in-law kept me
+from him as much as she could. She infused into his mind such a
+displeasure against me, that I was afraid lest he should die in it. I
+took a little interval of time when she happened not to be with him,
+and drawing near his bed, I kneeled down and said to him, "That if I
+had ever done any thing that displeased him I begged his pardon,
+assuring him it had not been voluntary." He appeared very much
+affected. As he had just come out of a sound sleep, he said to me, "It
+is I who beg your pardon, I did not deserve you." After that time he
+was not only pleased to see me, but gave me advice what I should do
+after his death; not to depend on the people on whom now I depended. He
+was for eight days very resigned and patient. I sent to Paris for the
+most skillful surgeon; but when he arrived my husband was dead.
+
+No mortal could die in a more Christian disposition, or with more
+courage than he did, after having received the sacrament in a manner
+truly edifying. I was not present when he expired, for out of
+tenderness he made me retire. He was above twenty hours unconscious and
+in the agonies of his death. It was in the morning of July 21, 1676,
+that he died. Next day I entered into my closet, in which was the image
+of my divine spouse, the Lord Jesus Christ. I renewed my
+marriage-contract, and added thereto a vow of chastity, with a promise
+to make it perpetual, if M. Bertot my director, would permit me. After
+that I was filled with great joy, which was new to me, as for a long
+time past I had been plunged in the deepest bitterness.
+
+As soon as I heard that my husband had expired, "Oh, my God," I cried,
+"thou hast broken my bonds, and I will offer thee a sacrifice of
+praise." After that I remained in a deep silence, both exterior and
+interior, quite dry and without any support. I could neither weep nor
+speak. My mother-in-law said very fine things, and was very much
+commended for it by everyone. They were offended at my silence, which
+they attributed to want of resignation. A friar told me, that everyone
+admired the fine acts which my mother-in-law did; but as for me, they
+heard me say nothing; that I must sacrifice my loss to God. But I could
+not say one single word, let me strive as I would.
+
+I was indeed very much exhausted. Although I was but recently delivered
+of my daughter, yet I attended and sat up with my husband four and
+twenty nights before his death. I was more than a year after in
+recovering from fatigue, joined to my great weakness and pain both of
+body and of mind. The great depression, or dryness and stupidity which
+I was in, was such that I could not say a word about God. It bore me
+down in such a manner that I could hardly speak. However, I entered for
+some moments into the admiration of thy goodness, O my God. I saw well
+that my crosses would not fail, since my mother-in-law had survived my
+husband. Also I was still tied, in having two children given me in so
+short a time before my husband's death, which evidently appeared the
+effect of divine wisdom; for had I only my eldest son, I would have put
+him in a college; and have gone myself into the convent of the
+Benedictines, and so frustrated all the designs of God upon me.
+
+I was willing to show the esteem I had for my husband, in causing the
+most magnificent funeral to be made for him at my own expense. I paid
+off the legacies he had left. My mother-in-law violently opposed
+everything I could do for securing my own interests. I had nobody to
+apply to for advice or help; for my brother would not give me the least
+assistance. I was ignorant of business affairs; but God, independent of
+my natural understandings, always made me fit for everything that
+pleased Him, and supplied me with such a perfect intelligence that I
+succeeded. I omitted not the least minutia, and was surprised that in
+these matters I should know without ever having learned. I digested all
+my papers, and regulated all my affairs, without assistance from any
+one. My husband had abundance of writings deposited in his hands. I
+took an exact inventory of them, and sent them severally to their
+owners, which, without divine assistance, would have been very
+difficult for me; because, my husband having been a long time sick,
+everything was in the greatest confusion. This gained me the reputation
+of being a skillful woman.
+
+There was one matter of great importance. A number of persons, who had
+been contending at law for several years, applied to my husband to
+settle their affairs. Though it was not properly the business of a
+gentleman, yet they applied to him, because he had both understanding
+and prudence; and as he had a love for several of them, he consented.
+There were twenty actions one upon another, and in all twenty-two
+persons concerned, who could not get any end put to their differences,
+by reason of new incidents continually falling out. My husband charged
+himself with getting lawyers to examine their papers, but died before
+he could make any procedure therein. After his death I sent for them to
+give them their papers; but they would not receive them, begging of me
+that I would accommodate them, and prevent their ruin. It appeared to
+me as ridiculous, as impossible, to undertake an affair of so great
+consequence, and which would require so long a discussion.
+Nevertheless, relying on the strength and wisdom of God, I consented. I
+shut myself up about thirty days for all these affairs, without ever
+going out, but to mass and to my meals. The arbitration being at length
+prepared, they all signed it without seeing it. They were all so well
+satisfied therewith, that they could not forbear publishing it
+everywhere. It was God alone who did those things; for after they were
+settled I knew nothing about them; and if I now hear any talk of such
+things, to me it sounds like Arabic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 23
+
+
+Being now a widow, my crosses, which one would have thought should have
+abated, only increased. That turbulent domestic I have often mentioned,
+instead of growing milder, now that she depended on me became more
+furious than ever. In our house she had amassed a good fortune, and I
+settled on her, besides, an annuity for the remainder of her life, for
+the services she had done my husband. She swelled with vanity and
+haughtiness. Having been used to sit up so much with an invalid, she
+had taken to drink wine, to keep up her spirits. This had now passed
+into a habit. As she grew aged and weak, a very little of it affected
+her. I tried to hide this fault, but it grew so that it could not be
+concealed. I spoke of it to her confessor, in order that he might try,
+softly and artfully to reclaim her from it; but instead of profiting by
+her director's advice, she was outrageous against me. My mother-in-law,
+who could hardly bear the fault of intemperance, and had often spoken
+to me about it, now joined in reproaching me and vindicating her. This
+strange creature, when any company came, would cry out with all her
+might, that I had dishonored her, thrown her into despair, and would be
+the cause of her damnation, as I was taking the ready course to my own.
+Yet God gave me an unbounded patience. I answered only with mildness
+and charity all her passionate invectives, giving her besides every
+possible mark of my affection. If any other maid came to wait on me,
+she would drive her back in a rage, crying out, that I hated her on
+account of the affection with which she had served my husband. When she
+had not a mind to come, I was obliged to serve myself; and when she did
+come, it was to chide me and make a noise. When I was very unwell, as
+was often the case, this girl would appear to be in despair. From hence
+I thought it was from Thee, O Lord, that all this came upon me. Without
+thy permission, she was scarcely capable of such unaccountable conduct.
+She seemed not sensible of any faults, but always to think herself in
+the right. All those whom Thou hast made use of to cause me to suffer,
+thought they were rendering service to Thee in so doing.
+
+Before my husband's death, I went to Paris on purpose to see Monsieur
+Bertot, who had been of very little service to me as a director. Not
+knowing my state, and I being incapable of telling him of it, he grew
+weary of the charge. At length he gave it up, and wrote to me to take
+another director. I made no doubt but God had revealed to him my wicked
+state; and this desertion of me seemed a most certain mark of my
+reprobation. This was during the life of my husband. But now my renewed
+solicitations, and his sympathy with me on my husband's death,
+prevailed on him to resume my direction, which to me still proved of
+very little service. I went again to Paris to see him. While there, I
+visited him twelve or fifteen times, without being able to tell him
+anything of my condition. I told him, indeed, that I wanted some
+ecclesiastic to educate my son, to rid him of his bad habits, and of
+the wrong impressions he had conceived against me. He found one for me,
+of whom he had received very good recommendations.
+
+I went to make a retreat with M. Bertot and Madame de C. All that time
+he spoke to me not a quarter of an hour at most. As he saw that I said
+nothing to him, for indeed I knew not what to say, as I had not spoken
+to him of the favors which God had conferred on me (not from a desire
+to conceal them, but because the Lord did not permit me to do it, as He
+had over me only the designs of death) he therefore spoke to such as he
+looked upon to be more advanced in grace. He let me alone as one for
+whom there was nothing to be done. So well did God hide from him the
+situation of my soul, in order to make me suffer, that he wanted to
+refer me, thinking that I had not the spirit of prayer, and that Mrs.
+Granger was mistaken when she told him I had. I did what I could to
+obey him, but it was entirely impossible. On this account I was
+displeased with myself, because I believed M. Bertot rather than my
+experience. Through this whole retreat my inclination, which I
+discerned only by my resistance to it, was to rest in silence and
+nakedness of thought. In the settling of my mind therein I feared I was
+disobeying the orders of my director. This made me think that I had
+fallen from grace. I kept myself in a state of nothingness, content
+with my poor low degree of prayer, without envying the higher degree of
+others, of which I judged myself unworthy. I would have, however,
+desired much to do the will of God, and to please Him, but despaired
+altogether of ever attaining that desirable end.
+
+There was in the place where I lived, and had been for some years, one
+whose doctrine was suspected. He possessed a dignity in the church,
+which always obliged me to have a deference for him. As he understood
+how averse I was to all who were suspected of unsoundness in the faith,
+and knowing that I had some credit in the place, he used his utmost
+efforts to engage me in his sentiments. I answered him with so much
+clearness and energy, that he had not a word to reply. This increased
+his desire to win me in order to do it, to contract a friendship for
+me. He continued to importune me for two years and a half. As he was
+very polite, and of an obliging temper, and had a good share of
+learning, I did not mistrust him. I even conceived a hope of his
+conversion, in which I found myself mistaken. I then ceased going near
+him. He came to inquire why he could see me no more. At that time he
+was so agreeable to my sick husband, in his assiduities about him, that
+I could not avoid him though I thought the shortest and best way for me
+would be break off all acquaintance with him, which I did after the
+death of my husband. M. Bertot would not permit me to do it before.
+When he now saw that he could not renew it, he and his party raised up
+strong persecutions against me.
+
+These gentlemen had at that time a method among them, by which they
+soon knew who were of their party, and who were opposite. They sent to
+one another circular letters, by means of which, in a very little time,
+they cried me down on every side, after a very strange manner. Yet this
+gave me little trouble. I was glad of my new liberty, intending never
+again to enter into an intimacy with anyone, which would give me so
+much difficulty to break.
+
+This inability I was now in, of doing those exterior acts of charity I
+had done before, served this person with a pretext to publish that it
+was owing to him I had formerly done them. Willing to ascribe to
+himself the merit of what God alone, by His grace, had made me do, he
+went so far as to preach against me publicly, as one who had been a
+bright pattern to the town, but was now become a scandal to it. Several
+times he preached very offensive things. Though I was present at those
+sermons, and they were enough to weigh me down with confusion, for they
+offended all that heard them, I could not be troubled. I carried in
+myself my own condemnation beyond utterance. I thought I merited
+abundantly worse than all he could say of me, and that, if all men knew
+me, they would trample me under their feet. My reputation then was
+blasted by the industry of this ecclesiastic. He caused all such as
+passed for persons of piety to declare against me. I thought he and
+they were in the right and therefore quietly bore it all. Confused like
+a criminal that dares not lift up his eyes, I looked upon the virtue of
+others with respect. I saw no fault in others and no virtue in myself.
+When any happened to praise me, it was like a heavy blow struck at me,
+and I said in myself, "They little know my miseries, and from what
+state I have fallen." When any blamed me, I agreed to it, as right and
+just. Nature wanted sometimes to get out of such an abject condition,
+but could not find any way. If I tried to make an outward appearance of
+righteousness, by the practice of some good thing, my heart in secret
+rebuked me as guilty of hypocrisy, in wanting to appear what I was not;
+and God did not permit that to succeed. Oh, how excellent are the
+crosses of Providence! All other crosses are of no value.
+
+I was often very ill and in danger of death, and knew not how to
+prepare myself for it. Several persons of piety, who had been
+acquainted with me, wrote to me about those things which the gentleman
+spread about me. I did not offer to justify myself, although I knew
+myself innocent of the things whereof they accused me. One day being in
+the greatest desolation and distress, I opened the New Testament on
+these words, "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made
+perfect in weakness." That for a little time gave me some relief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 24
+
+
+The Lord took from me all the sensibility which I had for the
+creatures, or things created, even in an instant, as one takes off a
+robe. After that time I had none for any whatsoever. Though He had done
+me that favor, for which I can never be sufficiently grateful, I was,
+however, neither more contented nor less confused by it. My God seemed
+to be so estranged and displeased with me, that there remained nothing
+but the grief of having lost His blessed presence through my fault. The
+loss of my reputation every day increasing, became sensible to my
+heart, though I was not allowed to justify or bewail myself.
+
+As I became always more impotent for every kind of exterior works, as I
+could not go to see the poor, nor stay at church, nor practice prayer;
+as I became colder toward God, in proportion as I was more sensible of
+my wrong steps, all this destroyed me the more both in my own eyes and
+in those of others. There were some very considerable gentlemen who
+made proposals for me, and even such persons as according to the rules
+of fashion ought not to think of me. They presented themselves during
+the very depth of my outward and inward desolation. At first it
+appeared to me a means of drawing me out of the distress I was in. But
+it seemed to me then notwithstanding my pains of body and mind, that if
+a king had presented himself to me, I would have refused him with
+pleasure, to show thee, O my God, that with all my miseries I was
+resolved to be thine alone.
+
+If Thou wouldst not accept of me, I should at least have the
+consolation of having been faithful to Thee to the utmost of my power.
+For as to my inward state, I never mentioned it to anybody. I never
+spoke thereof, nor of the suitors, though my mother-in-law would say
+that if I did not marry, it was because none would have me. It was
+sufficient for me that Thou, O my God, knewest that I sacrificed them
+to Thee, (without saying a word to anybody) especially one whose high
+birth and amiable exterior qualities might have tempted both my vanity
+and inclination. Oh, could I but have hoped, to become agreeable to
+Thee, such a hope would have been like a change from Hell to Heaven. So
+far was I from presuming to hope for it, that I feared this sea of
+affliction might also be followed by everlasting misery, in the loss of
+Thee. I dared not even desire to enjoy Thee--I only desired not to
+offend Thee.
+
+I was for five or six weeks at the last extremity. I could not take any
+nourishment. A spoonful of broth made me faint. My voice was so gone,
+that when they put their ears close to my mouth, they could scarcely
+distinguish my words. I could not see any hope of salvation, yet was
+not unwilling to die. I bore a strong impression that the longer I
+lived the more I would sin. Of the two, I thought I would rather choose
+Hell than sin. All the good, which God made me do, now seemed to me
+evil or full of faults. All my prayers, penances, alms and charities,
+seemed to rise up against me, and heighten my condemnation. I thought
+there appeared on the side of God, on my own, and from all creatures,
+one general condemnation, my conscience was a witness against me, which
+I could not appease. What may appear strange, the sins of my youth did
+not then give me any pain at all. They did not rise up in judgment
+against me, but there appeared one universal testimony against all the
+good I had done, and all the sentiments of evil I had entertained. If I
+went to confessors, I could tell them nothing of my condition. If I
+could have told them, they would have not understood me. They would
+have regarded as eminent virtues, what, O my God, thy eyes all pure and
+chaste rejected as infidelity. It was then that I felt the truth of
+what Thou hast said, that Thou judgest our righteousness. Oh, how pure
+art thou! Who can comprehend it? It was then that I turned my eyes on
+every side, to see what way succor might come to me; but my succor
+could come no way but from Him who made Heaven and earth. As I saw
+there was no safety for me, or spiritual health in myself, I entered
+into a secret complacency in seeing no good in myself whereon to rest,
+or presume for salvation. The nearer my destruction appeared, the more
+I found in God Himself, wherewith to augment my trust and confidence,
+notwithstanding He seemed so justly irritated against me. It seemed to
+me that I had in Jesus Christ all that was wanting in myself. Oh, ye
+stout and righteous men! Observe as much as ye please of excellence in
+what ye have done to the glory of God. As for me, I only glory in my
+infirmities, since they have merited for me such a Saviour!
+
+All my troubles, joined to the loss of my reputation, which yet was not
+so great as I apprehended, (it being only among a party) rendered me so
+unable to eat, that it seemed wonderful how I lived. In four days I did
+not eat as much as would make one very moderate repast. I was obliged
+to keep my bed through mere weakness, my body being no longer able to
+support the burden laid upon it. If I had thought, known, or heard
+tell, that there had ever been such a state as mine, it would have
+exceedingly relieved me. My very pain appeared to me to be sin.
+Spiritual books, when I tried to read them, all contributed only to
+augment it. I saw in myself none of those states which they set down. I
+did not so much as comprehend them. And when they treated the pains of
+certain states, I was very far from attributing any of them to myself.
+I said to myself, "These persons feel the pains of divine operations;
+but as to me, I sin, and feel nothing but my own wicked state." I could
+have wished to separate the sin from the confusion of sin, and provided
+I had not offended God, all would have been easy to me.
+
+A slight sketch of my last miseries, which I am glad to let you know,
+because in their beginning I omitted many infidelities, having had too
+much of an earnest attachment, vain complaisance, unprofitable and
+tedious conversations, though self-love and nature made a sort of
+necessity for them; but toward the latter part I could not have borne a
+speech too human, nor the least thing of the kind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 25
+
+
+The first religious person that God made use of to draw me to Himself,
+to whom (according to his desire) I had written from time to time,
+wrote to me in the depth of my distress, desiring me to write to him no
+more, signifying his disapprobation of what came from me, and that I
+displeased God greatly. A father, a Jesuit, who had esteemed me much,
+wrote to me in like manner. No doubt, it was by Thy permission, they
+thus contributed to complete my desolation. I thanked them for their
+charity, and commended myself to their prayers. It was then so
+indifferent to me to be decried of everybody, even of the greatest
+saints, that it added but little to my pain. The pain of displeasing
+God, and the strong propensity I felt in myself to all sorts of faults,
+caused me most lively and sensible pain.
+
+I had been accustomed from the beginning to dryness and privation. I
+even preferred it to the state of abounding, because I knew that I must
+seek God above all. I had even at the first beginnings, an instinct of
+my inmost soul to pass over every manner of thing whatsoever, and to
+leave the gifts to run after the Giver. But at this time my spirit and
+senses were in such a manner struck, by Thy permission, O my Lord, who
+wert pleased to destroy me without mercy, that the farther I went, the
+more everything appeared to me a sin; even crosses appeared to me no
+more crosses but real faults. I thought I drew them all on myself by my
+imprudent words and actions, I was like those, who, looking through a
+colored glass, behold everything of the same color with which it is
+stained. Had I been able to perform any exterior acts as formerly, or
+penances for my evil, it would have relieved me. I was forbidden to do
+the latter, besides I grew so timorous, and felt in myself such a
+weakness, as made it appear impossible for me to do them. I looked on
+them with horror, I found myself now so weak and incapable of anything
+of the kind.
+
+I omit many things, both of providences of the Lord in my favor, and of
+rugged paths through which I was obliged to pass. But as I have only
+one general view, I leave them in the knowledge of the Lord only.
+Afterward, being forsaken of my director, the coldness toward me which
+I remarked in the persons conducted by him, gave me no more trouble,
+nor indeed the estrangement of all the creatures, on account of my
+inward humiliation. My brother also joined with those who exclaimed
+against me, even though he had never seen them before. I believe it was
+the Lord who conducted things in this way, for my brother has worth,
+and undoubtedly thought he did well in acting thus.
+
+I was obliged to go about some business to a town where some near
+relations of my mother-in-law lived. How did I find things changed
+there! When I was there before, they entertained me in a most elegant
+and obliging manner, regaling me from house to house with emulation.
+Now they treated me with the utmost contempt, saying, they did it to
+revenge what I made their relation suffer. As I saw the thing went so
+far, and that notwithstanding all my care and endeavors to please her,
+I had not been able to succeed, I resolved to come to an explanation
+with her. I told her that there was a current report that I treated her
+ill, though I made it my study to give her every mark of my esteem. If
+the report were true, I desired her to allow me to remove from her; for
+that I would not choose to stay to give her pain, but only with a quite
+contrary view. She answered very coldly, "I might do what I would; for
+she had not spoken about it, but was resolved to live apart from me."
+This was fairly giving me my discharge, and I thought of taking my
+measures privately to retire. As I had not, since my widowhood, made
+any visits but such as were of pure necessity, or charity, there were
+found too many discontented spirits, who made a party with her against
+me. The Lord required of me an inviolable secrecy of all my pains, both
+exterior and interior. There is nothing which makes nature die so much,
+as to find neither support nor consolation. In short I saw myself
+obliged to go out, in the middle of winter, with my children and my
+daughters' nurse. At that time there was no house empty in the town, so
+the Benedictines offered me an apartment in theirs.
+
+I was now in a great strait; on one side fearing lest I was shunning
+the cross, on the other side thinking it unreasonable to impose my stay
+on one to whom it was only painful. Besides what I have related of her
+behavior, which still continued, when I went into the country to take a
+little repose she complained that I left her alone. If I desired her to
+come thither she would not. If I said, "I dare not ask her to come, for
+fear of incommoding her by changing her bed," she replied, "It was only
+an excuse, because I would not have her go; and that I only went to be
+away from her." When I heard that she was displeased at my being in the
+country, I returned to the town. Then she could not bear to speak to
+me, or to see me. I accosted her without appearing to notice how she
+received it. Instead of making me any answer, she turned her head
+another way. I often sent her my coach, desiring her to come and spend
+a day in the country. She sent it back empty, without any answer. If I
+passed some days there without sending it, she complained aloud. In
+short, all I did to please her soured her, God so permitting it. She
+had in the main a good heart, but was troubled with an uneasy temper:
+and I do not fail to think myself under much obligation to her.
+
+Being with her on Christmas day, I said to her with much affection: "My
+mother, on this day was the King of peace born, to bring it to us; I
+beg peace of you in His name." I think that touched her, though she
+would not let it appear. The ecclesiastic, whom I had met with at home,
+far from strengthening and comforting me, did nothing but weaken and
+afflict me, telling me that I ought not to suffer certain things. I had
+not credit enough to discharge any domestic, however defective or
+culpable. As soon as any of them were warned to go away, she sided with
+them, and all her friends interfered. As I was ready to go off, one of
+my mother-in-law's friends, a man of worth, who had always an esteem
+for me, without daring to show it, having heard it, was much afraid
+lest I should leave the town; for the removal of my alms, he thought,
+would be a loss to the country. He resolved to speak to my
+mother-in-law in the softest manner he could for he knew her. After he
+had spoken to her, she said, that she would not put me away, but if I
+went, she would not hinder me. After this he came to see me, and
+desired me to go and make an excuse to her, in order to content her. I
+told him, I should be willing to make a hundred, although "I did not
+know about what; that I did it continually about everything, which made
+her uneasy. But that was not now the matter, for I make no complaint of
+her, but thought it not proper for me to continue with her, to give her
+pain; that it was but just that I should contribute to her ease."
+However, he went with me into her room. Then I told her, that I begged
+her pardon, if ever I had displeased her in anything, that it had never
+been my intention to do it; that I desired her, before this gentleman,
+who was her friend, to tell me wherein I had given her any offense.
+Here God permitted; she made a declaration of the truth in his
+presence. She said, "She was not a person to suffer herself to be
+offended; that she had no other complaint against me but that I did not
+love her, and that I wished her dead." I answered her that these
+thoughts were far from my heart, so far from it, that I should be glad,
+by my best care and attendance on her, to prolong her days; that my
+affection was real, but that she never would be persuaded to believe
+it, whatever testimonies I could give, so long as she hearkened to
+people who spoke to her against me; that she had with her a maid, who,
+far from showing me any respect, treated me ill, so far as to push me
+when she wanted to pass by. She had done it at church, making me give
+way to her with as much violence as contempt, several times, also, in
+my room grating me with her words: that I had never complained of it,
+because such a temper might one day give her trouble. She took the
+girl's part. Nevertheless we embraced and it was left so. Soon after,
+when I was in the country, this maid, having me no more to vent her
+chagrins on behaved in such a manner to my mother-in-law that she could
+not bear it. She immediately put her out of doors. I must say here on
+my mother-in-law's behalf, that she had both sense and virtue, and
+except certain faults, which persons who do not practice prayer are
+liable to, she had good qualities. Perhaps I caused crosses to her
+without intending it, and she to me without knowing it. I hope what I
+write will not be seen by any who may be offended with it, or who may
+not be in a condition to see these matters in God.
+
+That gentleman who had used me so ill, for breaking off my acquaintance
+with him, among his penitents had one who, for affairs which befell her
+husband, was obliged to quit the country. He himself was accused of the
+same things which he had so liberally and unjustly accused me, and even
+things much worse, and with more noise and outcry. Though I well knew
+all this, God granted me the favor never to make his downfall the
+subject of my discourse. On the contrary, when any spoke to me of it, I
+pitied him, and said what I could in mitigation of his case. And God
+governed my heart so well, that it never offered to go into any vain
+joy at seeing him overtaken, and oppressed, with those kind of evils
+which he had been so assiduous in endeavoring to bring upon me. Though
+I knew that my mother-in-law was informed of it all, I never spoke to
+her about it, or about the sad confusions he had caused in a certain
+family.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 26
+
+
+One day during my husband's lifetime, laden with sorrow, not knowing
+what to do, I wished to speak to a person of distinction, and merit,
+who came often into the country. I wrote to request an opportunity with
+him, for that I wanted his instruction and advice. But soon after I
+felt remorse for it; this voice spoke in my heart, "What,--dost thou
+seek for ease, and to shake off my yoke?" Hereupon I instantly sent a
+note again to desire him to excuse me, adding that what I had written
+was only from self-love, not necessity; that as he knew what it was to
+be faithful to God, I hoped he would not disapprove my acting with this
+Christian simplicity. Yet he resented it, which surprised me much, as I
+had conceived a high idea of his virtue. Virtues he had, but such as
+are full of the life and activities of nature, and unacquainted with
+the paths of mortification and death.
+
+Thou, O my God, hast been my conductor even in these paths, as with
+admiration I have discovered since they are past. Blessed be Thy name
+forever. I am obliged to bear this testimony to Thy goodness.
+
+Before I continue my narration, I must add one remark, which the Lord
+gave me to make upon the way by which He, in His goodness, was pleased
+to conduct me; which is, that this obscure path is the surest to
+mortify the soul, as it leaves it not any prop to lean upon for
+support. Though it has no application to any particular state of Jesus
+Christ; yet, at its coming out, it finds itself clothed with all His
+dispositions. The impure and selfish soul, is hereby purified, as gold
+in the furnace. Full of its own judgment and its own will before, but
+now obeys like a child and finds no other will in itself. Before, it
+would have contested for a trifle; now it yields at once, not with
+reluctance and pain by way of practicing virtue, but as it were
+naturally. Its own vices are vanished. This creature so vain before now
+loves nothing but poverty, littleness and humiliation. Before, it
+preferred itself above everybody; now everybody above itself, having a
+boundless charity for its neighbor, to bear with his faults and
+weaknesses, in order to win him by love, which before it could not do
+but with very great constraint. The rage of the wolf is changed to the
+meekness of the lamb.
+
+During all the time of my experiencing my miseries and my deep trials,
+I went after no fine sights or recreations. I wanted to see and know
+nothing but Jesus Christ. My closet was my only diversion. Even when
+the queen was near me, whom I had never seen, and whom I had desire
+enough to see; I had only to open my eyes, and look out to see her; yet
+did not do it. I had been fond of hearing others sing; yet I was once
+four days with one who passed for the finest voice in the world,
+without ever desiring her to sing; which surprised her, because she was
+not ignorant that, knowing her name, I must know the charming
+excellence of her voice. However, I committed some infidelities, in
+inquiring what others said of me by way of blame. I met with one who
+told me everything. Though I showed nothing of it, it served only to
+mortify me. I saw I was yet too much alive to self.
+
+I shall never be able to express the number of my miseries. They are so
+vastly surmounted by the favours of God, and so swallowed up in these
+that I can see them no more. One of the things which gave me most pain
+in the seven years I have spoken of, especially the last five, was so
+strange a folly of my imagination that it gave me no rest. My senses
+bore it company. I could no more shut my eyes at church. Thus having
+all the gates and avenues open, I was like a vineyard exposed, because
+the hedges which the father of the family had planted were torn away. I
+saw every one that came and went, and everything that passed in the
+church. For the same force, which had drawn me inward to recollection,
+seemed to push me outward to dissipation.
+
+Laden with miseries, weighed down with oppressions, and crushed under
+continual crosses, I thought of nothing but ending my days thus. There
+remained in me not the least hope of ever emerging. Notwithstanding, I
+thought I had lost grace forever, and the salvation which it merits for
+us, I longed at least to do what I could for God, though I feared I
+should never love Him. Seeing the happy state from whence I had fallen,
+I wished in gratitude to serve Him, though I looked on myself as a
+victim doomed to destruction. Sometimes the view of that happy period
+caused secret desires to spring up in my heart, of recovering it again.
+I was instantly rejected and thrown back into the depth of the abyss; I
+judged myself to be in a state which was due to unfaithful souls. I
+seemed, my God, as if I was forever cast off from Thy regard, and from
+that of all creatures. By degrees my state ceased to be painful. I
+became even insensible to it, and my insensibility seemed like the
+final hardening of my reprobation. My coldness appeared to me a mortal
+coldness. It was truly so, O my God, since I thus died to self, in
+order to live wholly in Thee, and in thy precious love.
+
+To resume my history, a servant of mine wanted to become a Barnabite. I
+wrote about it to Father de la Mothe. He answered me, that I must
+address Father La Combe, who was then the superior of the Barnabites of
+Tonon. That obliged me to write to him. I had always preserved secret
+respect and esteem for him, as one under grace. I was glad of this
+opportunity of recommending myself to his prayers. I wrote to him about
+my fall from the grace of God, that I had requited His favors with the
+blackest ingratitude; that I was miserable, and a subject worthy of
+compassion; and far from having advanced toward God, I was become
+entirely alienated from Him. He answered in such a manner, as if he had
+known, by a supernatural light, the frightful description I had given
+of myself.
+
+In the midst of my miseries, Geneva came into my mind, a singular
+manner, which caused me many fears. "What," said I, "to complete my
+reprobation, shall I go to such an excess of impiety, as to quit the
+faith through apostacy? (The inhabitants of Geneva being generally
+Protestant Calvinists.) Am I then about quitting that church, for which
+I would give a thousand lives? Or, shall I ever depart from that faith
+which I would even wish to seal with my blood?" I had such a distrust
+of myself, that I dared hope for nothing, but had a thousand reasons
+for fear. Nevertheless the letter which I had received from Father La
+Combe, in which he wrote me an account of his present disposition,
+somewhat similar to mine, had such an effect, as to restore peace and
+calmness to my mind. I felt myself inwardly united to him, as to a
+person of great fidelity to the grace of God. Afterward a woman
+appeared to me in a dream to be come down from Heaven, to tell me that
+God demanded me at Geneva.
+
+About eight or ten days before Magdalene's day, 1680, it came into my
+mind to write to Father La Combe, and to request him, if he received my
+letter before that day, to pray particularly for me. It was so ordered,
+contrary even to my expectations, that he received my letter on St.
+Magdalene's eve, and when praying for me the next day, it was said to
+him, thrice over, with much power, "Ye shall both dwell in one and the
+same place." He was very much surprised, as he never had received
+interior words before. I believe, O my God, that that has been much
+more verified, both in our inward sense and experience, and in the same
+crucifying events which have befallen us, pretty much alike; and in
+Thyself, who art our dwelling, than in any temporal abode.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 27
+
+
+On that happy Magdalene's Day my soul was perfectly delivered from all
+its pains. It had already begun since the receipt of the first letter
+from Father La Combe, to recover a new life. It was then only like that
+of a dead person raised, though not yet unbound from grave clothes. On
+this day I was, as it were, in perfect life, and set wholly at liberty.
+I found myself as much raised above nature, as before I had been
+depressed under its burden. I was inexpressibly overjoyed to find Him,
+whom I thought I had lost forever, returned to me again with
+unspeakable magnificence and purity. It was then, O God, that I found
+again in Thee with new advantages, in an ineffable manner, all I had
+been deprived of; the peace I now possessed was all holy, heavenly and
+inexpressible. All I had enjoyed before was only a peace, a gift of
+God, but now I received and possessed the God of peace. Yet the
+remembrance of my past miseries still brought a fear upon me, lest
+nature should find means to take to itself any part therein. As soon as
+it wanted to see or taste anything, the Spirit ever watchful crossed
+and repelled it. I was far from elevating myself, or attributing to
+myself anything of this new state. My experience made me sensible of
+what I was.
+
+I hoped I should enjoy this happy state for some time, but little did I
+think my happiness so great and immutable as it was. If one may judge
+of a good by the trouble which precedes it, I leave mine to be judged
+of by the sorrows I had undergone before my attaining it. The apostle
+Paul tells us, that "the sufferings of this life are not to be compared
+with the glory that is prepared for us." How true is that of this life!
+One day of this happiness was worth more than years of suffering. It
+was indeed, at that time well worth all I had undergone, though it was
+then only dawning. An alacrity for doing good was restored to me,
+greater than ever. It seemed to me all quite free and natural to me. At
+the beginning, this liberty was less extensive; but as I advanced it
+grew greater. I had occasion to see Mon. Bertot for a few moments, and
+told him, I thought my state much changed. He, seemingly attentive to
+something else, answered, "No." I believed him; because grace taught me
+to prefer the judgment of others, and rather believe them than my own
+opinions or experience. This did not give me any kind of trouble. Every
+state seemed equally indifferent if I only had the favor of God. I felt
+a kind of beatitude every day increasing in me. I did all sorts of
+good, without selfishness or premeditation. Whenever a self-reflective
+thought was presented to my mind, it was instantly rejected, and as it
+were a curtain in the soul drawn before it. My imagination was kept so
+fixed, that I had now very little trouble on that. I wondered at the
+clearness of my mind and the purity of my whole heart.
+
+I received a letter from Father La Combe, wherein he wrote that God had
+discovered to him that he had great designs in regard to me. "Let them
+be," then said I to myself, "either of justice or mercy, all is equal
+to me." I still had Geneva deeply at heart; but said nothing of it to
+anybody, waiting for God to make known to me His all powerful will and
+fearing lest any stratagem of the Devil should be concealed therein,
+that might tend to draw me out of my proper place, or steal me out of
+my condition. The more I saw my own misery, incapacity and nothingness,
+the plainer it appeared that they rendered me fitter for the designs of
+God, whatever they might be. "Oh, my Lord," said I, "take the weak and
+the wretched to do thy works, that Thou mayest have all the glory and
+that man may attribute nothing of them to himself. If Thou shouldst
+take a person of eminence and great talents, one might attribute to him
+something; but if Thou takest me, it will be manifest that thou alone
+art the Author of whatever good shall be done." I continued quiet in my
+spirit, leaving the whole affair to God, being satisfied, if He should
+require anything of me, that He would furnish me with the means of
+performing it. I held myself in readiness with a full resolution to
+execute His orders, whenever he should make them known, though it were
+to the laying down of my life. I was released from all crosses. I
+resumed my care of the sick, and dressing of wounds, and God gave me to
+cure the most desperate. When surgeons could do no more, it was then
+that God made me cure them.
+
+Oh, the joy that accompanied me everywhere, finding still Him who had
+united me to Himself, in His own immensity and boundless vastitude! Oh,
+how truly did I experience what He said in the Gospel, by the four
+evangelists, and by one of them twice over, "Whosoever will lose his
+life for my sake shall find it; and whosoever will save his life shall
+lose it."
+
+When I had lost all created supports, and even divine ones, I then
+found myself happily compelled to fall into the pure divine, and to
+fall into it through all those very things which seemed to remove me
+further from it. In losing all the gifts, with all their supports, I
+found the Giver. In losing the sense and perception of Thee in
+myself--I found Thee, O my God, to lose Thee no more in Thyself, in Thy
+own immutability. Oh, poor creatures, who pass all your time in feeding
+upon the gifts of God, and think therein to be the most favored and
+happy. How I pity you if you stop here, short of the true rest, and
+cease to go forward to God Himself, through the loss of those cherished
+gifts which you now delight in! How many pass all their lives in this
+way, and think highly of themselves! There are others who, being called
+of God to die to themselves, yet pass all their time in a dying life,
+in inward agonies, without ever entering into God through death and a
+total loss of self, because they are always willing to retain something
+under plausible pretexts, and so never lose themselves to the whole
+extent of the designs of God. They never enjoy God in all His fullness;
+which is a loss that cannot be perfectly known in this life.
+
+Oh, my Lord, what happiness did I not largely taste in my solitude, and
+with my little family, where nothing interrupted my tranquillity! As I
+was in the country, the slender age of my children did not require my
+application too much, they being in good hands, I retired a great part
+of the day into a wood. I passed as many days of happiness as I had had
+months of sorrow. Thou, O my God, dealt by me as by thy servant Job,
+rendering me double for all thou hadst taken, and delivering me from
+all my crosses. Thou gavest me a marvelous facility to satisfy
+everyone. What was surprising now was that my mother-in-law, who had
+ever been complaining of me, without my doing anything more than usual
+to please her, declared that none could be better satisfied with me
+than she was. Such as before had cried me down the most, now testified
+their sorrow for it and became full of my praises. My reputation was
+established with much more advantage, in proportion as it had appeared
+to be lost. I remained in an entire peace, as well without as within.
+It seemed to me that my soul was become like New Jerusalem, spoken of
+in the Apocalypse, prepared as a bride for her husband and where there
+is no more sorrow, or sighing. I had a perfect indifference to
+everything that is here, a union so great with the will of God, that my
+own will seemed entirely lost. My soul could not incline itself on one
+side or the other, since another will had taken the place of its own,
+but only nourished itself with the daily providences of God. It now
+found a will all divine, yet was so natural and easy that it found
+itself infinitely more free than ever it had been in its own.
+
+These dispositions have still subsisted, and still grown stronger, and
+more perfect even to this hour. I could neither desire one thing nor
+another, but was content with whatever fell. If any in the house asked
+me, "Will you have this, or that?" then I was surprised to find that
+there was nothing left in me which could desire or choose. I was as if
+everything, of smaller matters, quite disappeared, a higher power
+having taken up and filled all their place. I even perceived no more
+that soul which He had formerly conducted by His crook and His staff,
+because now He alone appeared to me, my soul having given up its place
+to Him. It seemed to me, as if it was wholly and altogether passed into
+its God, to make but one and the same thing with Him; even as a little
+drop of water, cast into the sea, receives the qualities of the sea.
+Oh, union of unity, demanded of God by Jesus Chirst for men and merited
+by him! How strong is this in a soul that is become lost in its God!
+After the consummation of this divine unity, the soul remains hid with
+Christ in God. This happy loss is not like those transient ones which
+ecstacy operates, which are rather an absorption than union because the
+soul afterwards finds itself again with all its own dispositions. Here
+she feels that prayer fulfilled--John 17:21: "That they all may be one
+as thou Father art in me, and I in thee; that they also may be one in
+us."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 28
+
+
+I was obliged to go to Paris about some business. Having entered into a
+church, that was very dark, I went up to the first confessor I found,
+whom I did not know, nor have ever seen since. I made a simple and
+short confession; but to the confessor himself I said not a word. He
+surprised me saying, "I know not who you are whether maid, wife or
+widow; but I feel a strong inward motion to exhort you to do what the
+Lord has made known to you, that he requires of you. I have nothing
+else to say." I answered him, "Father, I am a widow who have little
+children. What else could God require of me, but to take due care of
+them in their education?" He replied, "I know nothing about this. You
+know if God manifests to you that He requires something of you; there
+is nothing in the world which ought to hinder you from doing His will.
+One may have to leave one's children to do that." This surprised me
+much. However, I told him nothing of what I felt about Geneva. I
+disposed myself submissively to quit everything, if the Lord required
+it of me. I did not look upon it as a good I aspired to, or a virtue I
+hoped to acquire, or as anything extraordinary, or as an act that would
+merit some return on God's part; but only gave myself up to be led in
+the way of my duty, whatever it might be, feeling no distinction
+between my own will and the will of God in me.
+
+In this disposition, I lived with my family in the greatest
+tranquility, until one of my friends had a great desire to go on a
+mission to Siam. He lived twenty leagues from my house. As he was ready
+to make a vow to this purpose, he found himself stopped, with an
+impulse to come and speak to me. He came immediately, and as he had
+some reluctance to declare his mind to me, he went to read prayers in
+my chapel, hoping God would be satisfied with his making the vow. As he
+was performing divine service in my hearing, he was stopped again. He
+left the chapel to come and speak to me. He then told me his intention.
+
+Though I had no thought of saying anything positive to him, I felt an
+impression in my soul to relate to him my case, and the idea I had for
+a long time past for Geneva. I told him a dream I had, which appeared
+to me supernatural. When I had done, I felt a strong impulse to say to
+him, "You must go to Siam, and you must also serve me in this affair.
+It is for that end God has sent you hither; I desire you to give me
+your advice." After three days, having considered the matter, and
+consulted the Lord in it, he told me that he believed I was to go
+thither; but to be the better assured of it, it would be needful to see
+the Bishop of Geneva. If he approved of my design, it would be a sign
+that it was from the Lord; if not, I must drop it. I agreed with his
+sentiment. He then offered to go to Annecy, to speak to the Bishop, and
+to bring me a faithful account. As he was advanced in years, we were
+deliberating in what way he could take so long a journey, when there
+came two travelers, who told us the Bishop was at Paris. This I looked
+on as an extraordinary providence. He advised me to write to Father La
+Combe, and recommend the affair to his prayers, as he was in that
+country. He then spoke to the Bishop at Paris. I, having occasion to go
+thither, spoke to him also.
+
+I told him, that "my design was to go into the country, to employ there
+my substance, to erect an establishment for all such as should be
+willing truly to serve God, and to give themselves unto him without
+reserve; and that many of the servants of the Lord had encouraged me
+thereto." The bishop approved of the design. He said, "there were New
+Catholics going to establish themselves at Gex, near Geneva, and that
+it was a providential thing." I answered him, "that I had no vocation
+for Gex, but for Geneva." He said, "I might go from hence to that
+city."
+
+I thought this was a way which divine Providence had opened, for my
+taking this journey with the less difficulty. As I yet knew nothing
+positive of what the Lord would acquire at my hand, I was not willing
+to oppose anything. "Who knows," said I, "but the will of the Lord is
+only that I should contribute to this establishment?"
+
+I went to see the prioress of the New Catholics at Paris. She seemed
+much rejoiced, and assured me she would gladly join me. As she is a
+great servant of God, this confirmed me. When I could reflect a little,
+which was but seldom, I thought God would make choice of her for her
+virtue, and me for my worldly substance. When I inadvertently looked at
+myself, I could not think God would make use of me; but when I saw the
+things in God, then I perceived that the more I was nothing, the fitter
+I was for His designs. As I saw nothing in myself extraordinary, and
+looked on myself as being in the lowest stage of perfection, and
+imagined that an extraordinary degree of inspiration was necessary for
+extraordinary designs, this made me hesitate, and fear deception. It
+was not that I was in fear of anything, as to my perfection and
+salvation which I had referred to God; but I was afraid of not doing
+His will by being too ardent and hasty in doing it. I went to consult
+Father Claude Martin. At that time he gave me no decisive answer,
+demanding time to pray about it; saying he would write to me what
+should appear to him to be the will of God concerning me.
+
+I found it hard to get to speak to M. Bertot, both on account of his
+being difficult of access, and of my knowing how he condemned things
+extraordinary, or out of the common road. Being my director, I
+submitted, against my own views or judgment, to what he said, laying
+down all my own experiences when duty required me to believe and obey.
+I thought, however, than in an affair of this importance, I ought to
+address myself to him, and prefer his sense of the matter to that of
+every one beside. Persuaded, he would infallibly tell me the will of
+God. I went to him then, and he told me that my design was of God, and
+that he had had a sense given him of God for some time past, that he
+required something of me. I therefore returned home to set everything
+in order. I loved my children much, having great satisfaction in being
+with them, but resigned all to God to follow His will.
+
+On my return from Paris, I left myself in the hands of God, resolved
+not to take any step, either to make the thing succeed or to hinder it,
+either to advance or retard it, but singly to move as He should be
+pleased to direct me. I had mysterious dreams, which portended nothing
+but crosses, persecutions and afflictions. My heart submitted to
+whatever it should please God to ordain. I had one which was very
+significant.
+
+Being employed in some necessary work, I saw near me a little animal
+which appeared to be dead. This animal I took to be the envy of some
+persons, which seemed to have been dead for some time. I took it up,
+and as I saw it strove hard to bite me, and that it magnified to the
+eye, I cast it away. I found thereupon that it filled my fingers with
+sharp-pointed prickles like needles. I came to one of my acquaintance
+to get him to take them out; but he pushed them deeper in, and left me
+so, till a charitable priest of great merit, (whose countenance is
+still present with me, though I have not yet seen him, but believe I
+shall before I die) took this animal up with a pair of pincers. As soon
+as he held it fast, those sharp prickles fell off, of themselves. I
+found that I easily entered into a place, which before had seemed
+inaccessible. And although the mire was up to my girdle, in my way to a
+deserted church, I went over it without getting any dirt. It will be
+easy to see in the sequel what this signified.
+
+Doubtless you will wonder that I, who makes so little account of things
+extraordinary, relate dreams. I do it for two reasons; first out of
+fidelity, having promised to omit nothing of what should come to my
+mind; secondly, because it is the method God makes use of to
+communicate Himself to faithful souls, to give them foretokens of
+things to come, which concern them. Thus mysterious dreams are found in
+many places of the holy Scriptures. They have singular properties, as--
+
+1. To leave a certainty that they are mysterious, and will have their
+effect in their season.
+
+2. To be hardly ever effaced out of the memory, though one forgets all
+others.
+
+3. To redouble the certainty of their truth every time one thinks of
+them.
+
+4. They generally leave a certain unction, a divine sense or savor at
+one's waking.
+
+I received letters from sundry religious persons, some of whom lived
+far from me, and from one another, relating to my going forth in the
+service of God, and some of them to Geneva in particular, in such a
+manner as surprised me. One of them intimated that I must there bear
+the cross and be persecuted; and another of them that I should be eyes
+to the blind, feet to the lame, and arms to the maimed.
+
+The ecclesiastic, or chaplain, of our house was much afraid lest I was
+under a delusion. What at that time greatly confirmed me was Father
+Claude Martin, whom I mentioned above, wrote to me that, after many
+prayers, the Lord had given him to know that He required me at Geneva,
+and to make a free sacrifice of everything to Him. I answered him,
+"that perhaps the Lord required of me nothing more than a sum of money
+to assist in founding an institution which was going to be established
+there." He replied, that the Lord had made him know that He wanted not
+my worldly substance but myself. At the very same time with this letter
+I received one from Father La Combe, who wrote to me that the Lord had
+given him a certainty, as he had done to several of his good and
+faithful servants and handmaids, that he wanted me at Geneva. The
+writers of these two letters lived above a hundred and fifty leagues
+from each other; yet both wrote the same thing. I could not but be
+somewhat surprised to receive at the same time two letters exactly
+alike, from two persons living so far distant from each other.
+
+As soon as I became fully convinced of its being the will of the Lord,
+and saw nothing on earth capable of detaining me, my senses had some
+pain about leaving my children. And upon reflecting thereon a doubt
+seized my mind. O my Lord! Had I rested on myself, or on the creatures,
+I would have revolted; "leaned on a broken reed, which would have
+pierced my hand." But relying on Thee alone, what needed I to fear? I
+resolved then to go, regardless of the censures of such as understand
+not what it is to be a servant of the Lord, and to receive and obey His
+orders. I firmly believe that He, by His Providence, would furnish the
+means necessary for the education of my children. I put everything by
+degrees in order, the Lord alone being my guide.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 29
+
+
+While providence, on the one hand, appointed my forsaking all things,
+it seemed on the other to make my chains the stronger, and my
+separation the more blameable. None could receive stronger marks of
+affection from one's own mother than those which I received at this
+time from my mother-in-law. Even the least sickness which befell me
+made her very uneasy. She said, "she had veneration for my virtue." I
+believe what contributed not a little to this change was, that she had
+heard that three persons had offered suit to me, and that I had refused
+them, although their fortune and quality were quite superior to mine.
+She remembered how she had upbraided me on this head, and I answered
+her not a word, whereby she might understand that it depended on myself
+to marry to advantage. She began to fear lest such rigorous treatment,
+as hers had been toward me, might excite me to deliver myself by such
+means, with honor, from her tyranny, and was sensible what damage that
+might be to my children. So she was now very tender to me on every
+occasion.
+
+I fell extremely ill. I thought that God had accepted of my willingness
+to sacrifice all to him, and required that of my life. During this
+illness, my mother-in-law went not from my bedside; her many tears
+proved the sincerity of her affection. I was very much affected at it,
+and thought I loved her as my true mother. How, then, should I leave
+her now, being so far advanced in age? The maid, who till then had been
+my plague, took an inconceivable friendship for me. She praised me
+everywhere, extolling my virtue to the highest and served me with
+extraordinary respect. She begged pardon for all that she had made me
+suffer, and died of grief after my departure.
+
+There was a priest of merit, a spiritual man, who had fallen in with
+temptation of taking upon him employment which I was sensible God did
+not call him to do. Fearing it might be a snare to him, I advised him
+against it. He promised me he would not do it, and yet accepted it. He
+then avoided me, joined in calumniating me, gradually fell away from
+grace, and died soon after.
+
+There was a nun in a monastery I often went to, who was entered into a
+state of purification, which everyone in the house looked on as
+distraction. They locked her up and all who went to see her called it
+phrenzy or melancholy. I knew her to be devout I requested to see her.
+As soon as I approached, I felt an impression that she sought purity. I
+desired of the Superior that she should not be locked up, nor should
+people be admitted to see her, but that she would confide her to my
+care. I hoped things would change. I discovered that her greatest pain
+was at being counted a fool. I advised her to bear the state of
+foolishness, since Jesus Christ had been willing to bear it before
+Herod. This sacrifice gave her a calmness at once. But as God was
+willing to purify her soul, He separated her from all those things for
+which she had before the greatest attachment. At last, after she had
+patiently undergone her sufferings, her Superior wrote to me that "I
+was in the right, and that she had now come out of that state of
+dejection, in greater purity than ever." The Lord gave to me alone at
+that time to know her state. This was the commencement of the gift of
+discerning spirits, which I afterward received more fully.
+
+The winter before I left home was one of the longest and hardest that
+had been for several years (1680). It was followed with extreme
+scarcity, which proved to me an occasion of exercising charity. My
+mother-in-law joined me heartily and appeared to me so much changed. I
+could not but be both surprised and overjoyed at it. We distributed at
+the house ninety-six dozen loaves of bread every week, but private
+charities to the bashful poor were much greater. I kept poor boys and
+girls employed. The Lord gave such blessings to my alms, that I did not
+find that my family lost anything by it. Before the death of my
+husband, my mother-in-law told him that I would ruin him with my
+charities, though he himself was so charitable, that in a very dear
+year, while he was young, he distributed a considerable sum. She
+repeated this to him so often, that he commanded me to set down in
+writing all the money I laid out, both what I gave for the expense of
+the house, and all that I caused to be bought, that he might better
+judge of what I gave to the poor. This new obligation, which I was
+brought under, appeared to me so much the harder, as for above eleven
+years we had been married I never before had this required of me. What
+troubled me most was the fear of having nothing to give to such as
+wanted. However, I submitted to it, without retrenching any part of my
+charities. I did not indeed set down any of my alms, and yet my account
+of expenses was found to answer exactly. I was much surprised and
+astonished, and esteemed it one of the wonders of Providence. I saw
+plainly it was simply given out of Thy treasury, O my Lord, that made
+me more liberal of what I thought was the Lord's, and not mine. Oh, if
+we but knew how far charity, instead of wasting or lessening the
+substance of the donor, blessed, increased and multiplied it profusely.
+How much is there in the world of useless dissipation, which, if
+properly applied, might amply serve for the subsistence of the poor,
+and would abundantly be restored, and amply rewarded to the families of
+those who gave it.
+
+In the time of my greatest trials, some years after my husband's death
+(for they began three years before my widowhood, and lasted four years
+after) my footman came one day to tell me, (I was then in the country)
+that there was in the road a poor soldier dying. I had him brought in,
+and ordering a separate place to be made ready for him, I kept above a
+fortnight. His malady was a flux, which he had taken in the army. It
+was so nauseous, that though the domestics were charitably inclined,
+nobody could bear to come near him. I went myself to take away his
+vessels. But I never did anything of the kind which was so hard. I
+frequently made efforts for a full quarter of an hour at a time. It
+seemed as if my very heart was going to come up; yet I never desisted.
+I sometimes kept the poor people at my house to dress their putrid
+sores; but never met with anything so terrible as this. The poor man,
+after I had made him receive the sacrament, died.
+
+What gave me now no small concern was the tenderness I had for my
+children, especially my younger son, whom I had strong reasons for
+loving. I saw him inclined to be good; everything seemed to favor the
+hopes I had conceived of him. I thought it running a great risk to
+leave him to another's education. My daughter I designed to take with
+me, though she was at this time ill of a very tedious fever. Providence
+was pleased, however, so to order it that she speedily recovered. The
+ties, with which the Lord held me closely united to Himself, were
+infinitely stronger than those of flesh and blood. The laws of my
+sacred marriage obliged me to give up all, to follow my spouse
+whithersoever it was His pleasure to call me after Him. Though I often
+hesitated, and doubted much before I went, I never doubted after my
+going of its being His will; and though men, who judge of things only
+according to the success they seem to have, have taken occasion from my
+disgraces and sufferings, to judge of my calling, and to run it down as
+error, illusion and imagination; it is that very persecution, and a
+multitude of strange crosses it has drawn upon me, (of which this
+imprisonment I now suffer is one,) which have confirmed me in the
+certainty of its truth and validity. I am more than ever convinced that
+the resignation which I have made of everything is in pure obedience to
+the divine will.
+
+The gospel effectually in this point shows itself to be true, which has
+promised to those that shall leave all for the love of the Lord, "an
+hundred fold in this life, and persecutions also." And have not I
+infinitely more than an hundred fold, in so entire a possession as my
+Lord hast taken of me; in that unshaken firmness which is given me in
+my sufferings, in a perfect tranquillity in the midst of a furious
+tempest, which assaults me on every side; in an unspeakable joy,
+enlargedness and liberty which I enjoy in a most straight and rigorous
+captivity. I have no desire that my imprisonment should end before the
+right time. I love my chains. Everything is equal to me, as I have no
+will of my own, but purely the love and will of Him who possesses me.
+My senses indeed have not any relish for such things, but my heart is
+separated from them. My perseverance is not of myself, but of Him who
+is my life; so that I can say with the apostle, "It is no more I that
+live, but Jesus Christ that liveth in me." It is He in whom I live,
+move, and have my being.
+
+To return to the subject, I say that I was not so reluctant to go with
+the New Catholics, as I was to engage with them, not finding a
+sufficient attraction, though I sought for it. I longed indeed to
+contribute to the conversion of wandering souls, and God made use of me
+to convert several families before my departure, one of which was
+composed of eleven or twelve persons. Besides, Father La Combe had
+written to me, to make use of this opportunity for setting off, but did
+not tell me whether I ought to engage with them or not. Thus it was the
+Providence of my God alone, which ordered everything, to which I was
+resigned without any reserve; and that hindered me from engaging with
+them.
+
+One day reflecting humanly on this undertaking of mine, I found my
+faith staggering, weakened with a fear lest I were under a mistake,
+which slavish fear was increased by an ecclesiastic at our house, who
+told me it was a rash and ill-advised design. Being a little
+discouraged, I opened the Bible, and met with this passage in Isaiah,
+"Fear not thou worm Jacob, and ye men of Israel. I will help thee saith
+the Lord, and thy Redeemer, the holy one of Israel." (Chap. 61:14) and
+near it, "Fear not; for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy
+name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be
+with thee."
+
+I had a very great courage given me for going, but could not persuade
+myself that it would be best to settle with the New Catholics. It was,
+however, necessary to see Sister Garnier, their superior at Paris, in
+order to take our measures together. But I could not go to Paris,
+because that journey would have hindered me from taking another, which
+I had to take. She then, though much indisposed, resolved to come and
+see me. In what a wonderful manner, O my God, didst Thou conduct things
+by Thy Providence, to make everything come to the point of Thy will!
+Every day I saw new miracles, which both amazed and still more
+confirmed me; for with a paternal goodness Thou tookest care of even
+the smallest things. As she intended setting off, she fell sick. And
+Thou permitted it to fall out so, to give room thereby for a person,
+who would have discovered everything, in the meantime to take a journey
+to see me. As this person had given me notice of the day she intended
+to set off, seeing that day was excessively hot, and so sultry that I
+imagined that being taken so much tender care of as she was at home,
+they would not suffer her to begin her journey, (which really proved to
+be the case, as she afterward told me,) I prayed to the Lord to be
+pleased to grant a wind to rise, to moderate the violent heat. Scarce
+had I prayed, but there arose suddenly so refreshing a wind, that I was
+surprised and the wind did not cease during her whole journey.
+
+I went to meet her, and brought her to my countryhouse, in such a way
+that she was not seen or known of anybody. What embarrassed me a little
+was, that two of my domestics knew her. But as I was then endeavoring
+the conversion of a lady, they thought that it was on this account I
+had sent for her, and that it was necessary to keep it secret, that the
+other lady might not be discouraged from coming. Though I knew nothing
+of controversial points, yet God so furnished me that I did not fail to
+answer all her objections, and resolve all her doubts, to such a
+degree, that she could not but give herself up entirely to God. Though
+Sister Garnier had a good share of both of grace and natural
+understanding, yet her words had not such an effect on this soul as
+those with which God furnished me, as she assured me herself. She even
+could not forbear speaking of it. I felt a movement to beg her of God,
+as a testimony of His holy will concerning me. But He was pleased not
+to grant it then, being willing that I should go off alone without any
+other assurance than His divine Providence was conducting all things.
+Sister Garnier did not declare her thoughts to me for four days. Then
+she told me she would not go with me. At this I was the more surprised,
+as I had persuaded myself that God would grant to her virtue what He
+might refuse to my demerits. Besides, the reason she gave appeared to
+me to be merely human, and void of supernatural grace. That made me
+hesitate a little; then, taking new courage, through the resignation of
+my whole self, I said, "As I go not thither for your sake, I will not
+fail to go even without you." This surprised her, as she acknowledged
+to me; for she thought that, on her refusal, I would decline my purpose
+of going.
+
+I regulated everything, wrote down the contract of association with
+them as I thought proper. No sooner had I done it, but I felt great
+perturbation and trouble of mind. I told her my pain, and that I had no
+doubt but the Lord demanded me at Geneva, yet did not let me see that
+He would have me to be of their congregation. She desired to have some
+time till after prayers and communion, and that then she would tell me
+what she thought the Lord required of me. Accordingly, He directed her
+contrary both to her interests and inclination. She then told me that I
+ought not to connect myself with her, that it was not the Lord's
+design; that I only ought to go with her sister's, and that when I
+should be there, Father La Combe, (whose letter she had seen) would
+signify to me the divine will. I entered at once into these sentiments,
+and my soul then regained the sweets of inward peace.
+
+My first thought had been (before I heard of the New Catholics going to
+Gex) to go directly to Geneva. At this time there were Catholics there
+in service, and otherwise; to take some little room without any noise,
+and without declaring myself at first; and as I knew how to make up all
+sorts of ointments to heal wounds and especially the king's evil, of
+which there is abundance in that place, and for which I had a most
+certain cure. I hoped easily to insinuate myself by this way and with
+the charities which I should have done to have won over many of the
+people. I have no doubt but, if I had followed this impulse, things
+would have succeeded better. But I thought I ought to follow the
+sentiments of the Bishop rather than my own. What am I saying? Has not
+Thy eternal Word, O my Lord, had its effect and accomplishment in me?
+Man speaks as man; but when we behold things in the Lord, we see them
+in another light. Yes, my Lord, Thy design was to give Geneva not to my
+cares, words or works, but to my sufferings; for the more I see things
+appear hopeless, the more do I hope for the conversion of that city by
+a way known to Thee only.
+
+Father La Combe has told me since, that he had a strong impulse to
+write to me, not to engage with the New Catholics. He believed it not
+to be the will of the Lord concerning me; but he omitted doing it. As
+to my director, M. Bertot, he died four months before my departure. I
+had some intimations of his death, and it seemed as if he bequeathed me
+a portion of his spirit to help his children.
+
+I was seized with a fear, that the check I had felt, at giving so
+largely in favor of the New Catholics, what I had designed for Geneva,
+was a stratagem of nature, which does not love to be stripped. I wrote
+to Sister Garnier to get a contract drawn up according to my first
+memorial. God permitted me to commit this fault, to make me the more
+sensible of His protection over me.
+
+
+
+
+PART TWO
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+
+I went off, in a strange renunciation, and in great simplicity,
+scarcely able to render the reason why I should in such a manner quit
+my family, which I most tenderly love, being without any positive
+assurance, yet hoping even against hope itself. I went to the New
+Catholics at Paris, where Providence wrought wonders to conceal me.
+They sent for the notary, who had drawn up the contract of engagement.
+When he read it to me, I felt such a repugnance to it, that I could not
+bear to hear it to the end, much less sign it. The notary wondered and
+much more so when Sister Garnier came in, and told him, that there
+needed no contract of engagement. I was enabled through divine
+assistance, to put my affairs in very good order, and to write sundry
+letters by the inspiration of the Spirit of God, and not by my own.
+This was what I had never experienced before. It was given me at that
+time only as a beginning, and has since been granted me much more
+perfectly.
+
+I had two domestics, whom it was very difficult for me to discharge, as
+I did not think to take them with me. If I had left them, they would
+have told of my departure; and I should have been sent after. I was
+when it became known. But God so ordered it that they were willing to
+follow me. They were of no use to me, and soon after turned into
+France. I took with me only my daughter, and two maids to serve us
+both. We set off in a boat upon the river, though I had taken places in
+the stage-coach, in order that, if they searched for me in the coach,
+they might not find me. I went to Melun to wait for it there.
+
+It was surprising that in this boat the child could not forbear making
+crosses, employing a person to cut rushes for her to use for that
+purpose. She then put around, and all over me, above three hundred of
+them. I let her do it, and inwardly apprehended that it was not without
+its meaning. I felt an interior certainty that I was going to meet with
+crosses in abundance and that this child was sowing the cross for me to
+reap it. Sister Garnier, who saw that they could not restrain her from
+covering me with crosses, said to me, "What that child does appears to
+be significant." Turning to the little girl, she said, "Give me some
+crosses, too, my pretty pet." "No," she replied, "they are all for my
+dear mother." Soon she gave her one to stop her importunity, then
+continued putting more on me; after which she desired some
+river-flowers, which floated on the water, to be given her. Braiding a
+garland she put it on my head, and said to me, "After the cross you
+shall be crowned." I admired all this in silence, and offered myself up
+to the pure love of God, as a victim, free and willing to be sacrificed
+to Him.
+
+Some time before my departure, a particular friend, a true servant of
+God, related to me a vision she had respecting me. "She saw my heart
+surrounded with thorns; that our Lord appeared in it well pleased;
+that, though the thorns seemed likely to tear it, yet, instead of doing
+that, they only rendered it fairer, and our Lord's approbation the
+stronger."
+
+At Corbeil, (a little town on the river Seine, sixteen miles south of
+Paris,) I met with the priest whom God had first made use of so
+powerfully to draw me to His love. He approved of my design to leave
+all for the Lord; but he thought I should not be well suited with the
+New Catholics. He told me some things about them, to show that our
+leadings were incompatible. He cautioned me not to let them know that I
+walked in the inward path. If I did, I must expect nothing but
+persecution from them. But it is in vain to contrive to hide, when God
+sees it best for us to suffer, and when our wills are utterly resigned
+to Him, and totally passed into His.
+
+While at Paris I gave the New Catholics all the money I had. I reserved
+not to myself a single penny, rejoicing to be poor after the example of
+Jesus Christ. I brought from home nine thousand livres. As by my
+donation I had reserved nothing to myself and by a contract lent them
+six thousand; this six thousand has returned to my children but none of
+it to me. That gives me no trouble; poverty, thus procured, constitutes
+my riches. The rest I gave entirely to the sisters that were with us,
+as well to supply their traveling expenses, for the purchase of
+furniture. I did not reserve so much as my linen for my own use,
+putting it in the common fund. I had neither a locked coffer, nor
+purse. I had brought but little linen for fear of mistrust. In wanting
+to carry off clothes I should have been discovered. My persecutors did
+not fail to report that I had brought great sums from home, which I had
+imprudently expended, and given to the friends of Father La Combe.
+False as I had not a penny. On my arrival at Annecy a poor man was
+asking alms. I, having nothing else, gave him the buttons from my
+sleeves. At another time I gave a poor man a little plain ring, in the
+name of Jesus Christ. I had worn it as a token of marriage with Him.
+
+We joined the flying stage at Melun where I left Sister Garnier. I went
+on with the other sisters with whom I had no acquaintance. The
+carriages were very fatiguing; I got no sleep through so long a
+journey. My daughter, a very tender child, only five years of age, got
+scarcely any. We bore great fatigue without falling sick by the way. My
+child had not an hour's uneasiness, although she was only three hours
+in bed every night. At another time half this fatigue, or even the want
+of rest, would have thrown me into a fit of sickness. God only knows
+both the sacrifices which He induced me to make, and the joy of my
+heart in offering up everything to Him. Had I kingdoms and empires, I
+think I would yield them up with still more joy, to give Him the higher
+marks of my love.
+
+As soon as we arrived at the inn, I went to church and stayed there
+till dinner time. In the coach, my divine Lord communed with me, and in
+me, in a manner which the others could not comprehend, indeed not
+perceive. The cheerfulness I showed in the greatest dangers encouraged
+them. I even sang hymns of joy at finding myself disengaged from the
+riches, honors and entanglements of the world. God in such a manner
+protected us. He seemed to be to us "a pillar of fire by night, and a
+pillar of a cloud by day." We passed over a very dangerous spot between
+Lyons and Chamberry. Our carriage broke as we were coming out of it.
+Had it happened a little sooner, we would have perished.
+
+We arrived at Annecy on Magdalene's eve, 1681. On Magdalene's day the
+Bishop of Geneva performed divine service for us, at the tomb of St.
+Francis de Sales. There I renewed my spiritual marriage with my
+Redeemer, as I did every year on this day. There also I felt a sweet
+remembrance of that saint, with whom our Lord gives me a singular
+union. I say union, for it appears to me that the soul in God is united
+with saints, the more so in proportion as they are conformable to Him.
+It is a union which it pleases God sometimes to revive after death, and
+awaken in the soul for His own glory. At such times departed saints are
+rendered more intimately present to that soul in God; and this revival
+is as it were an holy intercourse of friend with friend, in Him who
+unites them all in one immortal tie.
+
+That day we left Annecy, and on the next went to prayers at Geneva. I
+had much joy at the communion. It seemed to me as if God more
+powerfully united me to Himself. There I prayed to Him for the
+conversion of that great people. That evening we arrived late at Gex,
+where we found only bare walls. The Bishop of Geneva had assured me
+that the house was furnished; undoubtedly he believed it to be. We
+lodged at the house of the sisters of charity, who were so kind as to
+give us their beds.
+
+I was in great pain of mind for my daughter, who visibly lost weight. I
+had a strong desire to place her with the Ursulines at Tonon. My heart
+was so affected on her behalf, that I could not forbear weeping in
+secret for her. Next day I said, "I would take my daughter to Tonon,
+and leave her there, till I should see how we might be accommodated."
+They opposed it strongly, after a manner which seemed very hard-hearted
+as well as ungrateful, seeing she was a skeleton. I looked upon the
+child as a victim whom I had imprudently sacrificed. I wrote to Father
+La Combe, entreating him to come and see me, to consult together about
+it. I thought I could not in conscience keep her in this place any
+longer. Several days passed without my having any answer. In the
+meantime I became resigned to the will of God, whether to have succor
+or not.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+
+Our Lord took pity on the lamentable condition of my daughter, and so
+ordered it, that the Bishop of Geneva wrote to Father La Combe, to come
+as speedily as possible to see us, and to console us. As soon as I saw
+that father, I was surprised to feel an interior grace, which I may
+call communication; such as I had never had before with any person. It
+seemed to me that an influence of grace came from him to me, through
+the innermost of the soul; returned from me to him, in such a way that
+he felt the same effect. Like a tide of grace it caused a flux and
+reflux, flowing on into the divine and invisible ocean. This is a pure
+and holy union, which God alone operates, and which has still
+subsisted, and even increased. It is an union exempt from all weakness,
+and from all self-interest. It causes those who are blessed with it to
+rejoice in beholding themselves, as well as those beloved, laden with
+crosses and afflictions--an union which has no need of the presence of
+the body. At certain times absence makes not more absent, nor presence
+more present; a union unknown to men, but such as are come to
+experience it. It can never be experienced but between such souls as
+are united to God. As I never before felt a union of this sort with any
+one, it then appeared to me quite new. I had no doubt of its being from
+God; so far from turning the mind from Him, it tended to draw it more
+deeply into Him. It dissipated all my pains, and established me in the
+most profound peace.
+
+God gave him at first much openness of mind toward me. He related to me
+the mercies God had shown him, and several extraordinary things, which
+gave me at first some fear. I suspected some illusion, especially in
+such things as flatter in regard to the future; little imagining that
+God would make use of me to draw him from this state and bring him into
+that naked faith. But the grace, which flowed from Him into my soul,
+recovered me from that fear. I saw that it was joined with
+extraordinary humility. Far from being elevated with the gifts which
+God had liberally conferred upon him, or with his own profound
+learning, no person could have a lower opinion of himself than he had.
+He told me as to my daughter, it would be best for me to take her to
+Tonon, where he thought she would be very well situated. As to myself,
+after I had mentioned to him my dislike to the manner of life of the
+New Catholics, he told me, that he did not think it would be my proper
+place to be long with them. It would be best for me to stay there, free
+from all engagements, till God, by the guidance of His Providence,
+should make known to me how he would dispose of me, and draw my mind to
+the place whither he would have me remove. I had already begun to awake
+regularly at midnight, in order to pray. I awoke with these words
+suddenly put in my mind, "It is written of me, I will do thy will, O my
+God." This was accompanied with the most pure, penetrating, and
+powerful communication of grace that I had ever experienced. Though the
+state of my soul was already permanent in newness of life; yet this new
+life was not in that immutability in which it has been since. It was a
+beginning life and a rising day, which goes on increasing unto the full
+meridian; a day never followed by night; a life which fears death no
+more, not even in death itself; because he who has suffered the first
+death, shall no more be hurt of the second. From midnight I continued
+on my knees, till four o'clock in the morning, in prayer, in a sweet
+intercourse with God, and did the same also the night following.
+
+The next day, after prayers, Father La Combe told me, that he had a
+very great certainty, that I was a stone which God designed for the
+foundation of some great building. What that building was he knew no
+more than I. After whatever manner then it is to be, whether His divine
+Majesty will make use of me in this life, for some design known to
+himself only, or will make me one of the stones of the new and heavenly
+Jerusalem, it seems to me that such stone cannot be polished, but by
+the strokes of the hammer. Our Lord has given to this soul of mine the
+qualities of the stone, firmness, resignation, insensibility, and power
+to endure hardness under the operations of His hand.
+
+I carried my little daughter to the Ursulines at Tonon. That child took
+a great fondness for Father La Combe, saying, "He is a good father, one
+from God." Here I found a hermit, whom they called Anselm. He was a
+person of the most extraordinary sanctity that had appeared for some
+time. He was from Geneva; God had miraculously drawn him from thence,
+at twelve years of age. He had at nineteen years of age taken the habit
+of hermit of St. Augustine. He and another lived alone in a little
+hermitage, where they saw nobody but such as came to visit their
+chapel. He had lived twelve years in this hut, never eating anything
+but pulse with salt, and sometimes oil. Three times a week he lived on
+bread and water. He never drank wine, and generally took but one meal
+in twenty-four hours. He wore for a shirt a coarse hair cloth, and
+lodged on the bare ground. He lived in a continual state of prayer, and
+in the greatest humility. God had done by him many signal miracles.
+
+This good hermit had a great sense of the designs of God on Father La
+Combe and me. But God showed him at the same time that strange crosses
+were preparing for us both; that we were both destined for the aid of
+souls. I did not find, as I expected, any suitable place for my
+daughter at Tonon. I thought myself like Abraham, when going to
+sacrifice his son. Father La Combe said, "Welcome, daughter of
+Abraham!" I found little encouragement to leave her and could not keep
+her with myself, because we had no room. The little girls, whom they
+took to make Catholics, were all mixed and had contracted habits as
+were pernicious. To leave her there I thought not right. The language
+of the country, where scarce anyone understood French, and the food,
+which she could not take, being far different from ours, were great
+hardships. All my tenderness for her was awakened, and I looked on
+myself as her destroyer. I experienced what Hagar suffered when she put
+away her son Ishmael in the desert that she might not be forced to see
+him perish. I thought that even if I had ventured to expose myself, I
+ought at least to have spared my daughter. The loss of her education,
+even of her life, appeared to me inevitable. Everything looked dark in
+regard to her.
+
+With her natural disposition and fine qualities, she might have
+attracted admiration, if educated in France, and been likely to have
+such offers of marriage, as she could never hope to meet with in this
+poor country; in which, if she should recover, she would never be
+likely to be fit for anything. Here she could eat nothing of what was
+offered her. All her subsistence was a little unpleasant and
+disagreeable broth, which I forced her to take against her will. I
+seemed like a second Abraham, holding the knife over her to destroy
+her. Our Lord would have me make a sacrifice to Him, without any
+consolation, and plunged in sorrow, night was the time in which I gave
+vent to it. He made me see, on one side the grief of her grandmother,
+if she should hear of her death, which she would impute to my taking
+the child away from her; the great reproach, it would be accounted
+among all the family. The gifts of nature she was endowed with were now
+like pointed darts which pierced me. I believe that God so ordered it
+to purify me from too human an attachment still in me. After I returned
+from the Ursulines at Tonon, they changed her manner of diet, and gave
+her what was suitable; in a short time she recovered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+
+As soon as it was known in France that I was gone there was a general
+outcry. Father de la Mothe wrote to me, that all persons of learning
+and of piety united in censuring me. To alarm me still more, he
+informed me that my mother-in-law, with whom I had entrusted my younger
+son and my children's substance, was fallen into a state of childhood.
+This, however, was false.
+
+I answered all these fearful letters as the Spirit dictated. My answers
+were thought very just, and those violent exclamations were soon
+changed into applauses. Father La Mothe appeared to change his censures
+into esteem; but it did not last. Self interest threw him back again;
+being disappointed in his hopes of a pension, which he expected I would
+have settled on him. Sister Garnier, whatever was her reason, changed
+and declared against me.
+
+I both ate and slept little. The food which was given us was putrid and
+full of worms, by reason of the great heat of the weather, also being
+kept too long. What I should have formerly beheld with the greatest
+abhorrence, now became my only nourishment. Yet everything was rendered
+easy to me. In God I found, without increase, everything which I had
+lost for Him. That spirit, which I once thought I had lost in a strange
+stupidity, was restored to me with inconceivable advantages. I was
+astonished at myself. I found there was nothing which I was not fit for
+or in which I did not succeed. Those who observed said that I had a
+prodigious capacity. I well knew that I had but meager capabilities,
+but that in God my spirit had received a quality which it had never had
+before. I thought I experienced something of the state which the
+apostles were in, after they had received the Holy Ghost. I knew, I
+comprehended, I understood, I was enabled to do everything necessary. I
+had every sort of good thing and no want of anything. When Jesus
+Christ, the eternal wisdom, is formed in the soul, after the death of
+the first Adam, it finds in Him all good things communicated to it.
+
+Sometime after my arrival at Gex, the Bishop of Geneva came to see us.
+He was so clearly convinced, and so much affected, that he could not
+forbear expressing it. He opened his heart to me on what God had
+required of him. He confessed to me his own deviations and
+infidelities. Every time when I spoke to him he entered into what I
+said, and acknowledged it to be the truth. Indeed it was the Spirit of
+truth which inspired me to speak to him, without which I should be only
+a mere simpleton. Yet as soon as those persons spoke to him, who sought
+for pre-eminence, and who could not suffer any good but what came from
+themselves, he was so weak as to be imposed on with impressions against
+the truth. This weakness has hindered him from doing all the good which
+otherwise he might have done.
+
+After I had spoken to him, he said that he had it in his mind to give
+me Father La Combe for director; he was a man illuminated of God, who
+well understood the inward path, and had a singular gift of pacifying
+souls. Greatly was I rejoiced when the Bishop appointed him, seeing
+thereby his authority united with the grace which already seemed to
+have given him to me, by a union and effusion of supernatural life and
+love. The fatigues I had, and watchings with my daughter, threw me into
+a violent sickness attended with exquisite pain. The physicians judged
+me in danger, yet the sisters of the house quite neglected me;
+especially the stewardess. She was so penurious, that she did not give
+me what was necessary to sustain life. I had not a penny to help myself
+with, as I had reserved nothing to myself. Besides, they received all
+the money which was remitted to me from France, which was very
+considerable. I practiced poverty and was in necessity even among those
+to whom I had given all. They wrote to Father La Combe, desiring him to
+come to me, as I was so extremely ill. Hearing of my condition he was
+so touched with compassion as to walk on foot all night. He traveled
+not otherwise, endeavoring in that, as in everything else, to imitate
+our Lord Jesus Christ.
+
+As soon as he entered the house my pains abated; when he had prayed and
+blessed me, laying his hand on my head, I was perfectly cured, to the
+great astonishment of my physicians; who were not willing to
+acknowledge the miracle.
+
+These sisters advised me to return to my daughter. Father La Combe
+returned with me. A violent storm arose on the Lake, which made me very
+sick, and seemed likely to upset the boat. But the hand of Providence
+remarkably appeared in our favor; so much so, that it was taken notice
+of by the mariners and passengers. They looked upon Father La Combe as
+a saint. We arrived at Tonon, where I found myself so perfectly
+recovered, that, instead of making and using the remedies I had
+proposed, I went into a retreat, and stayed twelve days. Here I made
+vows of perpetual chastity, poverty and obedience, covenanting to obey
+whatever I should believe to be the will of God also to obey the
+church, and to honor Jesus Christ in such a manner as He pleased.
+
+At this time I found that I had the perfect chastity of love to the
+Lord, it being without any reserve, division, or view of interest.
+Perfect poverty, by the total privation of everything that was mine,
+both inwardly and outwardly. Perfect obedience to the will of the Lord,
+submission to the church, and honor to Jesus Christ in loving Himself
+only; the effect of which soon appeared. When by the loss of ourselves
+we are passed into the Lord, our will is made one and the same with
+that of the Lord, according to the prayer of Christ, "As thou Father
+art in me, and I in thee, grant that they also may be one of us." John
+17:21. Oh, but it is then that the will is rendered marvelous, both
+because it is made the will of the Lord, which is the greatest of
+miracles; also because it works wonders in Him. For as it is the Lord
+who wills in the soul, that will has its effect. Scarcely has it willed
+but the thing is done.
+
+But some may say, Why then so many oppressions endured? Why do not
+these souls, if they have such a power, set themselves free from them?
+We answer that if they had any will to do anything of that sort,
+against divine providence, that would be the will of flesh, or the will
+of man, and not the will of God, John 1:13.
+
+I rose generally at midnight, waking at the proper time; but if I wound
+up my alarm-watch, then I used not to awake in time. I saw that the
+Lord had the care of a father and a spouse over me. When I had any
+indisposition, and my body wanted rest, He did not awake me; but at
+such times I felt even in my sleep a singular possession of Him. Some
+years have passed wherein I have had only a kind of half-sleep; but my
+soul waked the more for the Lord, as sleep seemed to steal from it
+every other attention. The Lord made it known also to many persons,
+that He designed me for a mother of great people, but a people simple
+and childlike. They took these intelligences in a literal sense and
+thought it related to some institution or congregation. But it appeared
+to me that the persons whom it would please the Lord that I should win
+over to Him, and to whom I should be as a mother, through His goodness,
+should have the same union of affection for me as children have for a
+parent, but a union much deeper and stronger; giving me all that was
+necessary for them, to bring them to walk in the way by which He would
+lead them, as I shall show.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+
+I would willingly suppress what I am now about to write if anything of
+it were my own, also on account of the difficulty of expressing myself
+as because few souls are capable of understanding divine leadings which
+are so little known, and so little comprehended. I have myself never
+read of anything like it. I shall say something of the interior
+dispositions I was then in, and I shall think my time well employed, if
+it serves you who are willing to be of the number of my children; it
+serves such as are already my children, to induce them to let God
+glorify Himself in them after His manner, and not after their own. If
+there be anything which they do not comprehend, let them die to
+themselves. They will find it much easier to learn by experience than
+from anything I could say; expression never equals experience.
+
+After I had come out of the trying condition I have spoken of I found
+it had purified my soul, instead of blackening it as I had feared. I
+possessed God after a manner so pure, and so immense, as nothing else
+could equal. In regard to thoughts or desires, all was so clean, so
+naked, so lost in the divinity, that the soul had no selfish movement,
+however plausible or delicate; both the powers of the mind and the very
+senses being wonderfully purified. Sometimes I was surprised to find
+that there appeared not one selfish thought. The imagination, formerly
+so restless, now no more troubled me. I had no more perplexity or
+uneasy reflections. The will, being perfectly dead to all its own
+appetites, was become void of every human inclination, both natural and
+spiritual, and only inclined to whatever God pleased, and to whatever
+manner He pleased. This vastness or enlargedness, which is not bounded
+by anything, however plain or simple it may be, increases every day. My
+soul in partaking of the qualities of her Spouse seems also to partake
+of His immensity. My prayer was in an openness and singleness
+inconceivable. I was, as it were, borne up on high, out of myself. I
+believe God was pleased to bless me with this experience. At the
+beginning of the new life, He made me comprehend, for the good of other
+souls, the simplicity and desirableness of this passage of the soul
+into God.
+
+When I went to confess, I felt such an immersion of the soul into Him,
+that I could scarcely speak. This ascension of the spirit, wherein God
+draws the soul so powerfully, not into its own inmost recess, but into
+Himself, is not operated till after the death of self. The soul
+actually comes out of itself to pass into its divine object. I call it
+death, that is to say, a passage from one thing to another. It is truly
+a happy passover for the soul, and its passage into the promised land.
+The spirit which is created to be united to its divine Origin, has so
+powerful a tendency to Him, that if it were not stopped by a continual
+miracle, its moving quality would cause the body to be drawn after it
+by reason of its impetuosity and noble assent. But God has given it a
+terrestrial body to serve for a counterpoise. This spirit then, created
+to be united to its Origin, without any medium or interstice, feeling
+itself drawn by its divine object, tends to it with an extreme
+violence; in such sort that God, suspending for sometime the power
+which the body has to hold back the spirit, it follows with ardency.
+When it is not sufficiently purified to pass into God, it gradually
+returns to itself; as the body resumes its own quality, it turns to the
+earth. The saints who have been the most perfect have advanced to that
+degree, as to have nothing of all this. Some have lost it toward the
+end of their lives, becoming single and pure as the others, because
+they then had in reality and permanence what they had at first only as
+transient fruitions, in the time of the prevalence or dominion of the
+body. It is certain then that the soul, by death to itself, passes into
+its divine Object. This is what I then experienced. I found, the
+farther I went, the more my spirit was lost in its Sovereign, who
+attracted it more and more to Himself. He was pleased at first that I
+should know this for the sake of others and not for myself. Indeed He
+drew my soul more and more into Himself, till it lost itself entirely
+out of sight, and could perceive itself no more. It seemed at first to
+pass into Him. As one sees a river pass into the ocean, lose itself in
+it, its water for a time distinguished from that of the sea, till it
+gradually becomes transformed into the same sea, and possesses all its
+qualities; so was my soul lost in God, who communicated to it His
+qualities, having drawn it out of all that it had of its own. Its life
+is an inconceivable innocence, not known or comprehended of those who
+are still shut up in themselves or only live for themselves.
+
+The joy which such a soul possesses in its God is so great, that it
+experiences the truth of those words of the royal prophet, "All they
+who are in thee, O Lord, are like persons ravished with joy." To such a
+soul the words of our Lord seem to be addressed, "Your joy no man shall
+take from you." John 16:22. It is as it were plunged in a river of
+peace. Its prayer is continual. Nothing can hinder it from praying to
+God, or from loving Him. It amply verifies these words in the
+Canticles, "I sleep but my heart waketh;" for it finds that even sleep
+itself does not hinder it from praying. Oh, unutterable happiness! Who
+could ever have thought that a soul, which seemed to be in the utmost
+misery, should ever find a happiness equal to this? Oh, happy poverty,
+happy loss, happy nothingness, which gives no less than God Himself in
+His own immensity, no more circumscribed to the limited manner of the
+creature, but always drawing it out of that, to plunge it wholly into
+His own divine essence.
+
+Then the soul knows that all the states of self-pleasing visions,
+openings, ecstasies and raptures, are rather obstacles; that they do
+not serve this state which is far above them; because the state which
+has supports, has pain to lose them; yet cannot arrive at this without
+such loss. In this are verified the words of an experienced saint;
+"When I would," says he, "possess nothing through self-love, everything
+was given me without going after it." Oh, happy dying of the grain of
+wheat, which makes it produce an hundredfold! The soul is then so
+passive, so equally disposed to receive from the hand of God either
+good or evil, as is astonishing. It receives both the one and the other
+without any selfish emotions, letting them flow and be lost as they
+come. They pass away as if they did not touch.
+
+After I finished my retreat with the Ursulines at Tonon, I returned
+through Geneva and, having found no other means of conveyance, the
+French resident lent me a horse. As I knew not how to ride I made some
+difficulty of doing it; but as he assured me that it was a very quiet
+horse, I ventured to mount. There was a sort of a smith, who looking at
+me with a wild haggard look, struck the horse a blow on the back, just
+as I had got upon him, which made him give a leap. He threw me on the
+ground with such force that they thought I was killed. I fell on my
+temple. My cheekbone and two of my teeth were broken. I was supported
+by an invisible hand and in a little time I mounted as well as I could
+on another horse and had a man by my side to keep me up.
+
+My relations left me in peace at Gex. They had heard at Paris of my
+miraculous cure; it made a great noise there. Many persons in
+reputation for sanctity then wrote to me. I received letters from
+Mademoiselle De Lamoignon, and another young lady, who was so moved
+with my answer, that she sent me a hundred pistoles for our house, and
+let me know besides that, when we wanted money, I had only to write to
+her; and that she would send me all I could desire. They talked in
+Paris of printing an account of the sacrifice I had made, and inserting
+in it the miracle of my sudden recovery. I don't know what prevented
+it; but such is the inconstancy of the creature, that this journey,
+which drew upon me at that time so much applause, has served for a
+pretext for the strange condemnation which has since passed upon me.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+
+My near relations did not signify any eager desire for my return. The
+first thing they proposed to me, a month after my arrival at Gex, was
+not only to give up my guardianship, but to make over all my estate to
+my children and to reserve an annuity to myself. This proposition,
+coming from people who regarded nothing but their own interest, to some
+might have appeared very unpleasing; but it was in no wise so to me. I
+had not any friend to advise with. I knew not anyone whom I could
+consult about the manner of executing the thing, as I was quite free
+and willing to do it. It appeared to me that I had now the means of
+accomplishing the extreme desire I had of being conformable to Jesus
+Christ, poor, naked, and stripped of all. They sent me an article to
+execute, which had been drawn under their inspection, and I innocently
+signed it, not perceiving some clauses which were inserted therein. It
+expressed that, when my children should die, I should inherit nothing
+of my own estate, but that it should revolve to my kindred. There were
+many other things, which appeared to be equally to my disadvantage.
+Though what I had reserved to myself was sufficient to support me in
+this place; yet it was scarcely enough to do so in some other places. I
+then gave up my estate with more joy, for being thereby conformed to
+Jesus Christ, than they could have who asked it from me. It is what I
+have never repented of, nor had any uneasiness about. What pleasure to
+lose all for the Lord! The love of poverty, thus contracted, is the
+kingdom of tranquillity.
+
+I forgot to mention that toward the end of my miserable state of
+privation, when just ready to enter into newness of life, our Lord
+illuminated me so clearly to see that the exterior crosses came from
+Him, that I could not harbor any resentment against the persons who
+procured me them. On the contrary, I felt the tenderness of compassion
+for them, and had more pain for those afflictions which I innocently
+caused to them, than for any which they had heaped upon me. I saw that
+these persons feared the Lord too much to oppress me as they did, had
+they known it. I saw His hand in it, and I felt the pain which they
+suffered, through the contrariety of their humors. It is hard to
+conceive the tenderness which the Lord gave me for them, and the desire
+which I have had, with the utmost sincerity, to procure them every sort
+of advantage.
+
+After the accident which befell me (fall from the horse) from which I
+soon wonderfully recovered, the Devil began to declare himself more
+openly mine enemy, to break loose and become outrageous. One night,
+when I least thought of it, something very monstrous and frightful
+presented itself. It seemed a kind face, which was seen by a glimmering
+blueish light. I don't know whether the flame itself composed that
+horrible face or appearance; for it was so mixed and passed by so
+rapidly, that I could not discern it. My soul rested in its calm
+situation and assurance, and it appeared no more after that manner. As
+I arose at midnight to pray, I heard frightful noises in my chamber and
+after I had lain down they were still worse. My bed often shook for a
+quarter of an hour at a time, and the sashes were all burst. Every
+morning while this continued, they were found shattered and torn, yet I
+felt no fear. I arose and lighted my wax candle at a lamp which I kept
+in my room, because I had taken the office of sacristan and the care of
+waking the sisters at the hour they were to rise, without having once
+failed in it for my indispositions, ever being the first in all the
+observances. I made use of my little light to look all over the room
+and at the sashes, at the very time the noise was strongest. As he saw
+that I was afraid of nothing, he left off all on a sudden, and attacked
+me no more in person. But he stirred up men against me, and that
+succeeded far better with him; for he found them disposed to do what he
+prompted them to, zealously, inasmuch as they counted it a good thing
+to do me the worst of injuries.
+
+One of the sisters whom I had brought with me, a very beautiful girl,
+contracted an intimacy with an ecclesiastic, who had authority in this
+place. At first he inspired her with an aversion for me, being well
+assured that if she placed confidence in me, I should advise her not to
+suffer his visits so frequently. She was undertaking a religious
+retreat. That ecclesiastic was desirous to induce her to make it, in
+order to gain her entire confidence, which would have served as a cloak
+to his frequent visits. The Bishop of Geneva had given Father La Combe
+for director to our house. As he was going to cause retreats to be
+made, I desired her to wait for him. As I had gained some share in her
+esteem, she submitted even against her inclination, which was to have
+made it under this ecclesiastic. I began to talk to her on the subject
+of inward prayer, and drew her into the practice of this duty. Our Lord
+gave such a blessing thereto, that this girl gave herself to God in
+right earnest, and with her whole heart and the retreat completely won
+her over. She then became more reserved, and on her guard, toward this
+ecclesiastic, which exceedingly vexed him. It enraged him both against
+Father La Combe and me. This proved the source of the persecutions
+which afterward befell me. The noise in my chamber, which may have been
+traced to him, ended as these commenced.
+
+This ecclesiastic began to talk privately of me with much contempt. I
+knew it, but took no notice. There came a certain friar to see him, who
+mortally hated Father La Combe, on account of his regularity. These
+combined together to force me to quit the house, that they might become
+masters of it. All the means they could devise they used for that
+purpose.
+
+My manner of life was such, that in the house I did not meddle in
+affairs at all, leaving the sisters to dispose of the temporalities as
+they pleased. Soon after my entrance into it I received eighteen
+hundred livres, which a lady, a friend of mine, lent me to complete our
+furniture, which I had repaid her at my late giving up of my estate.
+This sum they received, as well as what I had before given them. I
+sometimes spoke a little to those who retired thither to become
+Catholics. Our Lord favored with so much benediction what I said to
+them, that some, whom they knew not before what to make of, became
+sensible, solid women, and exemplary in piety.
+
+I saw crosses in abundance likely to fall to my lot. At the same time
+these words came, "Who for the joy that was set before him endured the
+cross." Heb. 12:2. I prostrated myself for a long time with my face on
+the ground, earnestly desiring to receive all thy strokes. Oh, Thou who
+spared not thine own son! Thou couldst find none but Him worthy of
+Thee, and thou still findest in Him hearts proper for thee.
+
+A few days after my arrival at Gex, I saw in a sacred and mysterious
+dream (for as such I very well distinguished it) Father La Combe
+fastened up to an enormous cross, stripped in like manner as they paint
+our Saviour. I saw around it a frightful crowd, which covered me with
+confusion, and threw back on me the ignominy of his punishment. He
+seemed to have most pain, but I more reproaches than he. I have since
+beheld this fully accomplished.
+
+The ecclesiastic won over to his party one of our sisters, who was the
+house-steward and soon after the prioress. I was very delicate, the
+good inclination which I had did not give strength to my body. I had
+two maids to serve me; yet, as the community had need of one of them
+for their cook, and the other to attend the door and other occasions, I
+gave them up, not thinking but they would allow them to serve me
+sometimes. Besides this, I let them still receive all my income, they
+having had my first half of this year's annuity. Yet they would not
+permit either of my maid-servants, to do anything for me. By my office
+of sacristan I was obliged to sweep the church, which was large, and
+they would not let anyone help me. I have several times fainted over
+the broom and have been forced to rest in corners. This obliged me to
+beg them, that they would suffer it sometimes to be swept by some of
+the strong country girls, New Catholics, to which at last they had the
+charity to consent. What most embarrassed me was that I never had
+washed. I was now obliged to wash all the vestry linen. I took one of
+my maids to help me, because in attempting it I had done up the linen
+most awkwardly. These sisters pulled her by the arms out of my chamber,
+telling her she should do her own work. I let it quietly pass, without
+making any objection. The other good sister, the girl I just mentioned,
+grew more and more fervent. By the practice of prayer in her dedication
+of herself to the Lord she became more and more tender in her sympathy
+with me. It irritated this ecclesiastic. After all his impotent
+attempts here, he went off to Annecy, in order to sow discord, and to
+effect more mischief to Father La Combe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+
+He went directly to the Bishop of Geneva, who till then had manifested
+much esteem and kindness for me. He persuaded him, that it would be
+proper to secure me to that house, to oblige me to give up to it the
+annual income I had reserved to myself; to engage me thereto, by making
+me prioress. He had gained such an ascendancy over the Bishop, that the
+people in the country called him the Little Bishop. He drew him to
+enter heartily and with zeal into this proposition, and to resolve to
+bring it about whatever it should cost.
+
+The ecclesiastic, having so far carried his point, and being swelled
+with his success, no longer kept any measures in regard to me. He began
+with causing all the letters which I sent, and those which were
+directed to me, to be stopped. That was in order to have it in his
+power to make what impressions he pleased on the minds of others, and
+that I should neither be able to know it, nor to defend myself, nor to
+give or send to my friends any account of the manner in which I was
+treated. One of the maids I had brought wanted to return. She could
+have no rest in this place, the other that remained was infirm, too
+much taken up by others to help me in anything. As Father La Combe was
+soon to come, I thought he would soften the violent spirit of this man,
+and that he would give me proper advice.
+
+In the meantime they proposed to me the engagement, and the post of
+prioress. I answered, that as to the engagement it was impossible for
+me, since my vocation was elsewhere. And I could not regularly be the
+prioress, till after passing through the novitiate, in which they had
+all served two years before their being engaged. When I should have
+done as much, I should see how God would inspire me. The prioress
+replied quite tartly, that if I would ever leave them it were best for
+me to do it immediately. Yet I did not offer to retire, but continued
+still to act as usual. I saw the sky gradually thickening and storms
+gathering on every side. The prioress then affected a milder air. She
+assured me, that she had a desire, as well as I, to go to Geneva; that
+I should not engage, but only promise her to take her with me, if I
+went thither. She pretended to place a great confidence in me, and
+professed a high esteem for me. As I am very free, and have nothing but
+uprightness, I let her know that I had no attraction for the manner of
+life of the New Catholics, by reason of the intrigues from without.
+Several things did not please me, because I wanted them to be upright
+in everything. She signified that she did not consent to such things,
+but because that ecclesiastic told her they were necessary to give the
+house a credit in distant parts and to draw charities from Paris. I
+answered that if we walked uprightly God would never fail us. He would
+sooner do miracles for us. I remarked to her that when, instead of
+sincerity, they had recourse to artifice, charity grew cold, and kept
+herself shut up. It is God alone who inspires charity; how, then, is it
+to be drawn by disguises?
+
+Soon after, Father La Combe came about the retreats. This was the third
+and last time that he came to Gex. This prioress, after she had been
+tampering a good deal with me, having written him a long letter before
+his coming, and received his answer, which she showed me, now went to
+ask him whether she would one day be united to me at Geneva. He
+answered with his usual uprightness, "Our Lord has made it known to me
+that you shall never be established at Geneva." Soon after she died.
+When he had uttered this declaration, she appeared enraged against both
+him and me. She went directly to that ecclesiastic, who was in a room
+with the house-steward; and they took their measures together, to
+oblige me either to engage or retire. They thought that I would sooner
+engage than retire, and they watched my letters.
+
+With a design to lay snares for him, he requested Father La Combe to
+preach. He did on this text "The King's daughter is beautiful within."
+That ecclesiastic, who was present with his confidant, said that it was
+preached against him, and was full of errors. He drew up eight
+propositions, and inserted in them what the other had not preached,
+adjusting them as maliciously as ever he could, then sent them to one
+of his friends in Rome, to get them examined by the Sacred
+Congregation, and by the Inquisition. Though he had very illy digested
+them, at Rome they were pronounced good. That greatly disappointed and
+vexed him. After having been treated in this manner, and opprobriously
+reviled by him in the most offensive terms, the Father, with much
+mildness and humility, told him that he was going to Annecy about some
+affairs of the convent. If he had anything to write to the Bishop of
+Geneva, he would take care of his letter. He then desired him to wait
+awhile, as he was going to write. The good Father had the patience to
+wait above three hours, without hearing from him; though he had treated
+him exceedingly ill, so far as to snatch out of his hands a letter I
+had given him for that worthy hermit I have mentioned. Hearing he was
+not gone, but was still in the church, I went to him, and begged him to
+send to see if the other's packet was ready. The day was so far gone
+that he would be obliged to lodge by the way. When the messenger
+arrived, he found a servant of the ecclesiastic on horseback, ordered
+to go at full speed, to be at Annecy before the Father. He then
+returned an answer, that he had no letters to send by him. This was so
+contrived, that he might gain time to prepossess the Bishop for his
+purposes. Father La Combe then set off for Annecy, and on his arrival
+found the Bishop prepossessed, and in an ill humor. This was the
+substance of the discourse.
+
+BISHOP--You must absolutely engage this lady to give what she has to
+the house at Gex, and make her the prioress of it.
+
+F. LA COMBE--My lord, you know what she has told you herself of her
+vocation, both at Paris and in this country. I therefore do not believe
+that she will engage; nor is there any likelihood that, after quitting
+her all, in the hope of entering Geneva, she should engage elsewhere,
+and thereby put it out of her power to accomplish the designs of God in
+regard to her. She has offered to stay with those sisters as a boarder.
+If they are willing to keep her as such, she will remain with them; if
+not, she is resolved to retire into some convent, till God shall
+dispose of her otherwise.
+
+BISHOP--I know all that; but I likewise know that she is so very
+obedient, that, if you order her, she will assuredly do it.
+
+F. LA COMBE--It is for that reason, my lord, that one ought to be very
+cautious in the commands which they lay on her. Can I induce a foreign
+lady, who, for all her subsistence, has nothing but a small pittance
+she has reserved to herself, to give that up in favor of a house which
+is not yet established, and perhaps never will be? If the house should
+happen to fail, or be no longer of use, what shall that lady live on?
+Shall she go to the hospital? And indeed this house will not long be of
+any use, since there are no Protestants in any part of France near it.
+
+BISHOP--These reasons are good for nothing. If you do not make her do
+what I have said, I will degrade and suspend you.
+
+This manner of speaking somewhat surprised the Father. He well enough
+understands the rules of suspension, which is not executed on such
+things. He replied:
+
+"My lord, I am ready, not only to suffer the suspension, but even
+death, rather than do anything against my conscience." Having said
+that, he retired.
+
+He directly sent me this account by an express, to the end that I might
+take proper measures. I had no other course to take but to retire into
+a convent. I received a letter informing me that the nun to whom I had
+entrusted my daughter had fallen sick, and desiring me to go to her for
+some time. I showed this letter to the sisters of our house, telling
+them that I had a mind to go; but if they ceased to persecute me, and
+would leave Father La Combe in peace, I would return as soon as the
+mistress of my daughter should be recovered. Instead of this, they
+persecuted me more violently, wrote to Paris against me, stopped all my
+letters, and sent libels against me around the country.
+
+The day after my arrival at Tonon, Father La Combe set off for the
+valley of Aoust, to preach there in Lent. He had come to take leave of
+me, and told me that he should go from thence to Rome, and perhaps not
+return, as his superiors might detain him there; that he was sorry to
+leave me in a strange country, without succor, and persecuted of
+everyone. I replied, "My father, that gives me no pain; I use the
+creatures for God, and by His order. Through His mercy, I do very well
+without them, when He withdraws them. I am very well contented never to
+see you, and to abide under persecution, if such be His will." He said
+he would go well satisfied to see me in such a disposition, and then
+departed.
+
+As soon as I got to the Ursulines, a very aged and pious priest, who
+for twenty years past had not come out of his solitude, came to find
+me. He told me that he had a vision relative to me; that he had seen a
+woman in a boat on the lake; and that the Bishop of Geneva, with some
+of his priests, exerted all their efforts to sink the boat she was in,
+and to drown her; that he continued in this vision above two hours,
+with pain of mind; that it seemed sometimes as if this woman were quite
+drowned, as for some time she quite disappeared; but afterward she
+appeared again, and ready to escape the danger, while the Bishop never
+ceased to pursue her. This woman was always equally calm; but he never
+saw her entirely free from him. From whence I conclude, added he, that
+the Bishop will persecute you without intermission.
+
+I had an intimate friend, wife of that governor of whom I have made
+some mention. As she saw I had quitted everything for God, she had a
+warm desire to follow me. With diligence did she dispose of all her
+effects and settle her affairs in order to come to me; but when she
+heard of the persecution, she was discouraged from coming to a place,
+from whence she thought I should be obliged to retire. Soon after she
+died.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+
+After Father La Combe was gone, the persecution raised against me
+became more violent. But the Bishop of Geneva still showed me some
+civilities, as well to try whether he could prevail on me to do what he
+desired, as to sound out how matters passed in France, and to prejudice
+the minds of the people there against me, preventing me from receiving
+the letters sent me. The ecclesiastic and his family had twenty-two
+intercepted letters, opened, on their table. There was one wherein was
+sent me a power of attorney to sign, of immediate consequence. They
+were obliged to put it under another cover, and send it to me. The
+bishop wrote to Father La Mothe, and had no difficulty to draw him into
+his party. He was displeased with me on two accounts. First, that I had
+not settled on him a pension, as he expected, and as he told me very
+roughly several times. Second, I did not take his advice in everything.
+He at once declared against me. The bishop made him his confidant. It
+was he who uttered and spread abroad the news about me. They imagined,
+as was supposed, that I would annul the donation I had made, if I
+returned; that, having the support of friends in France, I would find
+the means of breaking it; but in that they were much mistaken. I had no
+thought of loving anything but the poverty of Jesus Christ. For some
+time yet, the Father acted with caution toward me. He wrote me some
+letters, which he addressed to the Bishop of Geneva, and they agreed so
+together, that he was the only person from whom I received any letters,
+to which I returned very moving answers. He, instead of being touched
+with them, became only more irritated against me.
+
+The bishop continued to treat me with a show of respect; yet at the
+same time he wrote to many persons in Paris, as did also the sisters of
+the house, to all those persons of piety who had written letters to me,
+to bias them as much as possible against me. To avoid the blame which
+ought naturally to fall upon them for having so unworthily treated a
+person who have given up everything to devote herself to the service of
+that diocese. After I had done this, and was not in a condition to
+return to France, they treated me extremely ill in every respect. There
+was scarcely any kind of false or fabulous story, likely to gain any
+credit, which they did not invent to cry me down. Beside my having no
+way to make the truth known in France, our Lord inspired me with a
+willingness to suffer everything, without justifying myself; so that in
+my case nothing was heard but condemnation, without any vindication.
+
+I was in this convent, and had seen Father La Combe no further than I
+have mentioned; yet they did not cease to publish, both of him and me,
+the most scandalous stories; as utterly false as anything could be, for
+he was then a hundred and fifty leagues from me.
+
+For some time I was ignorant of this. As I knew that all my letters
+were kept from me, I ceased to wonder at receiving none. I lived in
+this house with my little daughter in a sweet repose, which was a very
+great favor of Providence. My daughter had forgotten her French, and
+among the little girls from the mountains had contracted a wild look
+and disagreeable manners. Her wit, sense and judgment, were indeed
+surprising, and her disposition exceedingly good. There were only some
+little fits of peevishness, which they had caused to arise in her,
+through certain contrarieties out of season, caresses ill applied, and
+for want of knowing the proper manner of education. But the Lord
+provided in regard to her. During this time my mind was preserved calm
+and resigned to God. Afterward that good sister almost continually
+interrupted me; I answered everything she desired of me, both out of
+condescension, and from a principle which I had to obey like a child.
+
+When I was in my apartment, without any other director than our Lord by
+His Spirit, as soon as one of my little children came to knock at my
+door, he required me to admit the interruption. He showed me that it is
+not the actions in themselves which please Him, but the constant ready
+obedience to every discovery of His will, even in the minutest things,
+with such a suppleness, as not to stick to anything, but still to turn
+with Him at every call. My soul was then, I thought, like a leaf, or a
+feather, which the wind moves what way soever it pleases and the Lord
+never suffers a soul so dependent upon, and dedicated to Him, to be
+deceived.
+
+Most men appear to me very unjust, when they readily resign themselves
+to another man, and look upon that as prudence. They confide in men who
+are nothing, and boldly say, "Such a person cannot be deceived." But if
+one speaks of a soul wholly resigned to God, which follows him
+faithfully, they cry aloud, "That person is deceived with his
+resignation." Oh, divine Love! Dost thou want either strength,
+fidelity, love, or wisdom, to conduct those who trust in thee and who
+are thy dearest children? I have seen men bold enough to say, "Follow
+me, and you shall not be misled." How sadly are those men misled
+themselves by their presumption! How much sooner should I go to him who
+would be afraid of misleading me; who trusting neither to his learning
+nor experience, would rely upon God only!
+
+Our Lord showed me, in a dream, two ways by which souls steer their
+course, under the figure of two drops of water. The one appeared to me
+of an unparalleled beauty, brightness and purity; the other to have
+also a brightness, yet full of little streaks; both good to quench
+thirst; the former altogether pleasant, but the latter not so perfectly
+agreeable. By the former is represented the way of pure and naked
+faith, which pleases the Spouse much, it is so pure, so clear from all
+self-love. The way of emotions or gifts is not so; yet it is that in
+which many enlightened souls walk, and into which they had drawn Father
+La Combe. But God showed me, that He had given him to me, to draw him
+into one more pure and perfect. I spoke before the sisters, he being
+present, of the way of faith, how much more glorious it was to God, and
+advantageous for the soul, than all those gifts, emotions and
+assurances, which ever cause us to live to self. This discouraged them
+at first and him also. I saw they were pained, as they have confessed
+to me since. I said no more of it at that time. But, as he is a person
+of great humility, he bid me unfold what I had wanted to say to him. I
+told him a part of my dream of the two drops of water; yet, he did not
+then enter into what I said, the time for it being not yet come. When
+he came to Gex, it was to make the retreats. I told him the
+circumstances of a certain time past; he recollected that it was the
+time of so extraordinary a touch with which the Lord favored him, that
+he was quite overwhelmed with contrition. This gave him such an
+interior renovation, that having retired to pray, in a very ardent
+frame of mind, he was filled with joy, and seized with a powerful
+emotion, which made him enter into what I had told him of the way of
+faith. I give these things, as they happen to come to my remembrance,
+without carrying them on in order.
+
+After Easter, in 1682, the bishop came to Tonon. I had occasion to
+speak to him, which when I had done, our Lord so pointed my words that
+he appeared thoroughly convinced. But the persons who had influenced
+him before returned. He then pressed me very much to return to Gex and
+to take the place of Prioress. I gave him the reasons against it. I
+then appealed to him, as a bishop, desiring him to take care to regard
+nothing but God in what he should say to me. He was struck into a kind
+of confusion; and then said to me, "Since you speak to me in such a
+manner, I cannot advise you to it. It is not for us to go contrary to
+our vocations; but do good, I pray you, to this house." I promised him
+to do it. Having received my pension, I sent them a hundred pistoles,
+with a design of doing the same as long as I should be in the diocese.
+The bishop said to me, "I love Father La Combe. He is a true servant of
+God and he has told me many things to which I was forced to assent for
+I felt them in myself. But," added he, "when I say so, they tell me I
+am mistaken, and that before the end of six months he will run mad." He
+told me, "he approved of the nuns, which had been under the care and
+instruction of Father La Combe, finding them to come up fully to what
+he had heard of them." From thence I took occasion to tell him "that in
+everything he ought to refer himself to his own breast, or to the
+instructions there immediately received, and not to others." He agreed
+to what I said, and acknowledged it to be right; yet no sooner was he
+returned, than, so great was his weakness that he re-entered into his
+former dispositions. He sent the same ecclesiastic to tell me that I
+must engage myself at Gex; that it was his sentiment. I answered, that
+I was determined to follow the counsel he had given me, when he had
+spoken to me as from God, since now they made him speak only as man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+
+My soul was in a state of entire resignation and very great content, in
+the midst of such violent tempests. Those persons came to tell me a
+hundred extravagant stories against Father La Combe. The more they said
+to me to his disadvantage, the more esteem I felt for him. I answered
+them, "Perhaps I may never see him again, but I shall ever be glad to
+do him justice. It is not he who hinders me from engaging at Gex. It is
+only because I know it to be none of my vocation." They asked me, "Who
+could know that better than the bishop?" They further told me, "I was
+under a deception, and my state was good for nothing." This gave me no
+uneasiness, having referred to God the care of requiring, and of
+exacting what He requires, and in whatever manner He demands it.
+
+A soul in this state seeks nothing for itself, but all for God. Some
+may say, "What, then, does this soul?" It leaves itself to be conducted
+by God's providences and creatures. Outwardly, its life seems quite
+common; inwardly, it is wholly resigned to the divine will. The more
+everything appears adverse, and even desperate, the more calm it is, in
+spite of the annoyance and pain of the senses and of the creatures,
+which, for some time after the new life, raise some clouds and
+obstructions, as I have already signified. But when the soul is
+entirely passed into its original Being, all these things no more cause
+any separation or partition. It finds no more of that impurity which
+came from self-seeking, from a human manner of acting, from an
+unguarded word, from any warm emotion or eagerness, which caused such a
+mist, as it then could neither prevent nor remedy, having so often
+experienced its own efforts, to be useless, and even hurtful, as they
+did nothing else but sill more and more defile it. There is in such
+case no other way or means of remedy, but in waiting till the Sun of
+Righteousness dissipate those fogs. The whole work of purification
+comes from God only. Afterward this conduct becomes natural; then the
+soul can say with the royal prophet, "Though an host should encamp
+against me, my heart shall not fear. Though war should rise up against
+me, in him will I confide." For then, though assaulted on every side,
+it continues fixed as a rock. Having no will but for what God sees meet
+to order, be it what it may, high or low, great or small, sweet or
+bitter, honor, wealth, life, or any other object, what can shake its
+peace? It is true, our nature is so crafty that it worms itself through
+everything; a selfish sight is like the basilisk's, it destroys.
+
+Trial are suited to the state of the soul, whether conducted by lights,
+gifts, or ecstasies, or by the entire destruction of self in the way of
+naked faith. Both these states are found in the apostle Paul. He tells
+us, "And lest I should be exalted above measure, through the abundance
+of revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the
+messenger of Satan to buffet me." He prayed thrice, and it was said to
+him, "My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect
+in weakness." He proved also another state when he thus expressed
+himself, "Oh, wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the
+body of this death?" To which he replies, "I thank God, it is done
+through Jesus Christ our Lord." It is He who conquers death in us
+through His own life. Then there is no longer a sting in death, or
+thorn in the flesh, capable of paining or hurting any more.
+
+At first indeed, and for a pretty long time after, the soul sees that
+nature wants to take some part with it in its trials; then its fidelity
+consists in withholding it, without allowing it the least indulgence,
+till it leaves everything to go on with God in purity as it comes from
+Him. Till the soul be in this state, it always sullies, by its own
+mixture, the operation of God; like those rivulets which contract the
+corruption of the places they pass through, but, flowing in a pure
+place, they then remain in the purity of their source. Unless God
+through experience, makes known His guidance to the soul, it can never
+comprehend it.
+
+Oh, if souls had courage enough to resign themselves to the work of
+purification, without having any weak and foolish pity on themselves,
+what a noble, rapid and happy progress would they make! But few are
+willing to lose the earth. If they advance some steps, as soon as the
+sea is ruffled they are dejected; they cast anchor, and often desist
+from the prosecution of the voyage. Such disorders doth selfish
+interest and self-love occasion. It is of consequence not to look too
+much at one's own state, not to lose courage, not to afford any
+nourishment to self-love, which is so deep-rooted, that its empire is
+not easily demolished. Often the idea which a man falsely conceives of
+the greatness of his advancement in divine experience, makes him want
+to be seen and known of men, and to wish to see the very same
+perfection in others. He conceives too low ideas of others, and too
+high of his own state. Then it becomes a pain to him to converse with
+people too human; whereas, a soul truly mortified and resigned would
+rather converse with the worst, by the order of Providence, than with
+the best, of its own choice; wanting only to see or to speak to any as
+Providence directs, knowing well that all beside, far from helping,
+only hurt it, or at least prove very unfruitful to it.
+
+What, then, renders this soul so perfectly content? It neither knows,
+nor wants to know, anything but what God calls it to. Herein it enjoys
+divine content, after a manner vast, immense, and independent of
+exterior events; more satisfied in its humiliation, and in the
+opposition of all creatures, by the order of Providence, than on the
+throne of its own choice.
+
+It is here that the apostolic life begins. But do all reach that state?
+Very few, indeed, as far as I can comprehend. There is a way of lights,
+gifts and graces, a holy life in which the creature appears all
+admirable. As this life is more apparent, so it is more esteemed of
+such, at least, as have not the purest light. The souls which walk in
+the other path are often very little known, for a length of time, as it
+was with Jesus Christ Himself, till the last years of His life. Oh, if
+I could but express what I conceive of this state! But I can only
+stammer about it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+
+Being, as I have said, with the Ursulines at Tonon, after having spoken
+to the Bishop of Geneva, and seeing how he changed, just as others
+turned him, I wrote to him and to Father La Mothe; but all my efforts
+were useless. The more I endeavored to accommodate matters, the more
+the ecclesiastic tried to confound them, hence I ceased to meddle.
+
+One day I was told that the ecclesiastic had won over the good girl
+whom I dearly loved. So strong a desire I had for her perfection that
+it had cost me much. I should not have felt the death of a child so
+much as her loss; at the same time I was told how to hinder it, but
+that human way of acting was repugnant to my inward sense; these words
+arose in my heart, "Except the Lord build the house."
+
+And indeed He provided herein Himself, hindering her from yielding to
+this deceitful man, after a manner to be admired, and very thwarting to
+the designs of him and his associates. As long as I was with her she
+still seemed wavering and fearful; but oh, the infinite goodness of
+God, to preserve without our aid what without His we should inevitably
+lose! I was no sooner separated from her, but she became immovable.
+
+As for me, there scarcely passed a day but they treated me with new
+insults; their assaults came on me at unawares. The New Catholics, by
+the instigation of the Bishop of Geneva, the ecclesiastic, and the
+sisters at Gex, stirred up all the persons of piety against me. I had
+but little uneasiness on my own account. If I could have had it at all,
+it would have been on account of Father La Combe, whom they vilely
+aspersed, though he was absent. They even made use of his absence, to
+overset all the good he had done in the country, by his missions and
+pious labors, which were inconceivably great. At first I was too ready
+to vindicate him, thinking it justice to do it. I did not do it at all
+for myself; and our Lord showed me that I must cease doing it for him,
+in order to leave him to be more thoroughly annihilated; because from
+thence he would draw a greater glory, than ever he had done from his
+own reputation.
+
+Every day then invented some new slander. No kind of stratagem, or
+malicious device in their power, did they omit. They came to surprise
+and ensnare me in my words; but God guarded me so well, that therein
+they only discovered their own malevolence. I had no consolation from
+the creatures. She who had the care of my daughter behaved roughly to
+me. Such are the persons who regulate themselves only by their gifts
+and emotions. When they do not see things succeed, and as they regard
+them only by their success, and are not willing to have the affront of
+their pretensions being though uncertain, and liable to mistake, they
+seek without for supports. As for me who pretended to nothing, I
+thought all succeeded well, inasmuch as all tended to self-annihilation.
+On another side, the maid I had brought, and who stayed with me, grew
+tired out. Wanting to go back again, she stunned me with her complaints,
+thwarting and chiding me from morning till night, upbraiding me with
+what I had left, and coming to a place where I was good for nothing.
+I was obliged to bear all her ill-humor and the clamor of her tongue.
+
+My own brother, Father La Mothe, wrote to me that I was rebel to my
+bishop, staying in his diocese only to give him pain. Indeed, I saw
+there was nothing for me to do here, so long as the bishop should be
+against me. I did what I could to gain his goodwill, but this was
+impossible on any other terms than the engagement he demanded, and that
+I knew to be my duty not to do. This, joined to the poor education of
+my daughter, affected my heart. When any glimmering of hope appeared,
+it soon vanished; and I gained strength from a sort of despair.
+
+During this time Father La Combe was at Rome, where he was received
+with so much honor, and his doctrine was so highly esteemed, that the
+Sacred Congregation was pleased to take his sentiments on some points
+of doctrine, which were found to be so just, and so clear, that it
+followed them. Meanwhile the sister would take no care of my daughter;
+when I took care of her she was displeased. I was not able, by any
+means, to prevail on her to promise me that she would try to prevent
+her contracting bad habits. However, I hoped that Father La Combe, at
+his return, would bring everything into order, and renew my
+consolation. Yet I left it all to God.
+
+About July, 1682, my sister, who was an Ursuline, got permission to
+come. She brought a maid with her, which was very seasonable. My sister
+assisted in the education of my daughter, but she had frequent jarring
+with her tutoress--I labored but in vain for peace. By some instances
+which I met with in this place, I saw clearly that it is not great
+gifts which sanctify, unless they be accompanied with a profound
+humility; that death to everything is infinitely more beneficial; for
+there was one who thought herself at the summit of perfection, but has
+discovered since, by the trials which have befallen her, that she was
+yet very far from it. O, my God, how true it is that we may have of Thy
+gifts, and yet be very imperfect, and full of ourselves!
+
+How very straight is the gate which leads to a life in God! How little
+one must be to pass through it, it being nothing else but death to
+self! But when we have passed through it, what enlargement do we find!
+David said, (Psalm 18:19) "He brought me forth into a large place." And
+it was through humiliation and abasement that he was brought thither.
+
+Father La Combe, on his arrival, came to see me. The first thing he
+said was about his own weakness, and that I must return. He added,
+"that all seemed dark, and there was no likelihood that God would make
+use of me in this country." The Bishop of Geneva wrote to Father La
+Mothe to get me to return; he wrote to me accordingly to do it. The
+first Lent which I passed with the Ursulines, I had a very great pain
+in my eyes; for that same imposthume which I formerly had between the
+eye and the nose, returned upon me three times. The bad air, and the
+noisome room which I was in, contributed hereto. My head was
+frightfully swelled, but great was my inward joy. It was strange to see
+so many good creatures, who did not know me, love and pity me; all the
+rest enraged against me, and most of them on reports entirely false,
+neither knowing me, nor why they so hated me. To swell the stream of
+affliction yet more, my daughter fell sick and was likely to die; there
+was but little hope of her recovery, when her mistress also fell ill.
+My soul, leaving all to God, continued to rest in a quiet and peaceable
+habitation. Oh, Principal and sole object of my love! Were there never
+any other reward of what little services we do, or of the marks of
+homage we render Thee, than this fixed state above the vicissitudes in
+the world, is it not enough? The senses indeed are sometimes ready to
+start aside, and to run off like truants; but every trouble flies
+before the soul which is entirely subjected to God. By speaking of a
+fixed state, I do not mean one which can never decline or fall, that
+being only in Heaven. I call it fixed and permanent, compared with the
+states which have preceded it, which were full of vicissitudes and
+variations. I do not exclude a state of suffering in the senses, or
+arising from superficial impurity, which remains to be done away, and
+which one may compare to refined but tarnished gold. It has no more
+need to be purified in the fire, having undergone that operation; but
+needs only to be burnished. So it seemed to be with me at that time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+
+My daughter had the smallpox. They sent for a physician from Geneva,
+who gave her over. Father La Combe then came in to visit, and pray with
+her. He gave her his blessing; soon after she wonderfully recovered.
+The persecution of the New Catholics against me continued and
+increased; yet, for all that, I did not fail to do them all the good in
+my power. My daughter's mistress came often to converse with me, but
+much imperfection appeared in her discourses, though they were on
+religious subjects. Father La Combe regulated many things in regard to
+my daughter, which vexed her mistress so much, that her former
+friendship was turned into coldness. She had grace, but suffered nature
+too frequently to prevail. I told her my thought on her faults, as I
+was inwardly directed to do; but though, at that time, God enlightened
+her to see the truth of what I said, and she has been more enlightened
+since, yet the return of her coldness toward me ensued upon it. The
+debates between her and my sister grew more tart and violent. My
+daughter, who was only six years and a half old, by her little
+dexterities found a way to please them both, choosing to do her
+exercises twice over, first with the one, then with the other, which
+continued not long; for as her mistress generally neglected her, doing
+things at one time, and leaving them at another, she was reduced to
+learn only what my sister and I taught her. Indeed the changeableness
+of my sister was so excessive, that, without great grace, it was hard
+to suit one's self to it; yet she appeared to me to surmount herself in
+many things. Formerly, I could scarce bear her manners; but I have
+since loved everything in God, who has given me a very great facility
+to bear the faults of my neighbor, with a readiness to please and
+oblige everyone and such a compassion for their calamities or
+distresses as I never had before.
+
+I have no difficulty to use condescension with imperfect persons; I
+should be secretly smitten if I failed therein; but with souls of grace
+I cannot bear this human manner of acting, nor suffer long and frequent
+conversations. It is a thing of which few are capable. Some religious
+persons say that these conversations are of great service. I believe it
+may be true for some, but not for all; for there is a period wherein it
+hurts, especially when it is of our own choice; the human inclination
+corrupting everything. The same things which would be profitable, when
+God, by His Spirit, draws to them, become quite otherwise, when we of
+ourselves enter into them. This appears to me so clear, that I prefer
+being a whole day with the worst of persons, in obedience to God,
+before being one hour with the best, only from my own choice and
+inclination.
+
+The order of divine providence makes the whole rule and conduct of a
+soul entirely devoted to God. While it faithfully gives itself up
+thereto, it will do all things right and well, and will have everything
+it wants, without its own care; because God in whom it confides, makes
+it every moment do what He requires, and furnishes the occasions proper
+for it. God loves what is of His own order, and of His own will, not
+according to the idea of the merely rational or even enlightened man;
+for He hides these persons from the eyes of others, in order to
+preserve them in that hidden purity for Himself.
+
+But how comes it that such souls commit any faults; because they are
+not faithful, in giving themselves up to the present moment. Often too
+eagerly bent on something, or wanting to be over-faithful, they slide
+into many faults, which they can neither foresee nor avoid. Does God
+then leave souls which confide in Him? Surely not. Sooner would He work
+a miracle to hinder them from falling, if they were resigned enough to
+Him. They may be resigned as to the general will, and yet fail as to
+the present moment. Being out of the order of God, they fall. They
+renew such falls as long as they continue out of that divine order.
+When they return into it, all goes right and well.
+
+Most assuredly if such souls were faithful enough, not to let any of
+the moments of the order of God slip over, they would not thus fall.
+This appears to me as clear as the day. As a dislocated bone out of the
+place in which the economy of divine wisdom had fixed it, gives
+continual pain till restored to its proper order, so the many troubles
+in life come from the soul not abiding in its place, and not being
+content with the order of God, and what is afforded therein from moment
+to moment. If men rightly knew this secret, they would all be fully
+content and satisfied. But alas! instead of being content with what
+they have, they are ever wishing for what they have not; while the
+soul, which enters into divine light begins to be in paradise. What is
+it that makes paradise? It is the order of God, which renders all the
+saints infinitely content, though very unequal in glory! From whence
+comes it that so many poor indigent persons are so contented, and that
+princes and potentates, who abound to profusion, are so wretched and
+unhappy? It is because the man who is not content with what he has,
+will never be without craving desires; and he who is the prey of an
+unsatisfied desire, can never be content.
+
+All souls have more or less of strong and ardent desires, except those
+whose will is lost in the will of God. Some have good desires, so as to
+suffer martyrdom for God; others thirst for the salvation of their
+neighbor, and some pant to see God in glory. All this is excellent. But
+he who rests in the divine will, although he may be exempt from all
+these desires, is infinitely more content, and glorifies God more. It
+is written concerning Jesus Christ, when he drove out of the temple
+those who profaned it. "The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up." John
+2:17. It was in that moment of the order of God, that these words had
+their effect. How many times had Jesus Christ been in the temple
+without such a conduct? Does not He occasionally say of Himself, that
+His hour was not yet come?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+
+After Father La Combe returned from Rome, well approved, and furnished
+with testimonials of life and doctrine, he performed his functions of
+preaching and confessing as usual. I gave him an account of what I had
+done and suffered in his absence, and what care God had taken of all my
+concerns. I saw his providence incessantly extended to the very
+smallest things. After having been several months without any news of
+my papers, when some pressed me to write, and blamed my neglect, an
+invisible hand held me back; my peace and confidence were great. I
+received a letter from the ecclesiastic at home, which informed me that
+he had orders to come and see me, and bring my papers. I had sent to
+Paris for a pretty considerable bundle of things for my daughter. I
+heard they were lost on the lake, and could learn no further tidings
+about them.
+
+I gave myself no trouble; I always thought they would be found. The man
+who had taken charge of them made a search after them a whole month, in
+all the environs, without hearing any news. At the end of three months
+they were brought to me, having been found in the house of a poor man,
+who had not opened them, nor knew who brought them there. Once I had
+sent for all the money which was to serve me a whole year; the person
+who had been to receive cash for the bill of exchange, having put that
+money in two bags on horseback, forgot that it was there, and gave the
+horse to a little boy to lead. The money fell from the horse in the
+middle of the market at Geneva. That instant I arrived, coming on the
+other side, and having alighted from my litter, the first thing I found
+was my money. What was surprising, a great throng was in this place and
+not one had perceived it. Many such things have attended me. These
+accounts may suffice to show the continual protection of God.
+
+The Bishop of Geneva continued to persecute me. When he wrote, it was
+with politeness and thanks for my charities at Gex; while at the same
+time he said to others that I "gave nothing to that house." He wrote
+against me to the Ursulines with whom I lived, charging them to hinder
+me from having any conferences with Father La Combe. The superior of
+the house, a man of merit, and the prioress, as well as the community,
+were so irritated at this, that they could not forbear testifying it to
+him. He then excused himself with a pretended respect, saying, he did
+not mean it that way. They wrote to him that "I did not see the Father
+but at the confessional, and not in conference; that they were so much
+edified by me, as to think themselves happy in having me, and to esteem
+it a greater favor from God." What they said out of pure charity was
+not pleasing to the Bishop, who, seeing they loved me in this house,
+said, that I won over everybody to myself and that he wished I were out
+of the diocese. Though I knew all this, and these good sisters were
+troubled at it, I could have no trouble by reason of the calm
+establishment which I was in. The will of God rendering everything
+equal to me. The creatures, however unreasonable or passionate they
+appear, not being regarded in themselves but in God; an habitual faith
+causes everything to be seen in God without distinction. Thus, when I
+see poor souls so ruffled for discourses in the air, so uneasy for
+explanations, I pity them. They have reasons, I know, which self-love
+causes to appear very just.
+
+To relieve myself a little from the fatigue of continual conversation,
+I desired Father La Combe to allow me a retreat. It was then that I let
+myself be consumed by love all the day long. Also I perceived the
+quality of a spiritual mother; for the Lord gave me what I cannot
+express for the perfection of souls. This I could not hide from Father
+La Combe. It seemed to me as if I entered into the inmost recesses of
+his heart. Our Lord showed me he was His servant, chosen among a
+thousand, singularly to honor Him; but that He would lead him through
+total death, and the entire destruction of the old man. He would have
+me contribute thereto and be instrumental to cause him to walk in the
+way in which He had led me first; in order that I might be in a
+condition to direct others, to tell them the way through which I have
+passed. The Lord would have us to be conformed, and to become both one
+in Him; though my soul was more advanced now, yet he should one day
+pass beyond it, with a bold and rapid flight. God knows with what joy I
+would see my spiritual children surpass their mother.
+
+In this retreat I felt a strong propensity to write, but resisted it
+till I fell sick. I had nothing to write about, not one idea to begin
+with. It was a divine impulse, with such a fulness of grace as was hard
+to contain. I opened this disposition of mine to Father La Combe. He
+answered that he had a strong impulse to command me to write, but had
+not dared to do it yet, on account of my weakness. I told him, that
+"weakness was the effect of my resistance," and I believed it would,
+through my writing, go off again. He asked, "But what is it you will
+write?"
+
+I replied, "I know nothing of it, nor desire to know, leaving it
+entirely to God to direct me."
+
+He ordered me to do so. At my taking the pen I knew not the first word
+I should write; when I began, suitable matter flowed copiously, nay,
+impetuously. As I was writing I was relieved and grew better. I wrote
+an entire treatise on the interior path of faith, under the comparison
+of torrents, or of streams and rivers.
+
+As the way, wherein God now conducted Father La Combe, was very
+different from that in which he had formerly walked (all light,
+knowledge, ardor, assurance, sentiment) now the poor, low, despised
+path of faith, and of nakedness; he found it very hard to submit
+thereto. Who could express what it has cost my heart before he was
+formed according to the will of God?
+
+Meanwhile, the possession which the Lord had of my soul became every
+day stronger, insomuch that I passed whole days without being able to
+pronounce one word. The Lord was pleased to make me pass wholly into
+Him by an entire internal transformation. He became more and more the
+absolute master of my heart, to such a degree as not to leave me a
+movement of my own. This state did not hinder me from condescending to
+my sister, and the others in the house. Nevertheless, the useless
+things with which they were taken up could not interest me. That was
+what induced me to ask leave to make a retreat, to let myself be
+possessed of Him who holds me so closely to Himself after an ineffable
+manner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+
+I had at that time so ardent a desire for the perfection of Father La
+Combe, and to see him thoroughly die to himself, that I could have
+wished him all the crosses and afflictions imaginable, that might
+conduce to this great and blessed end. Whenever he was unfaithful, or
+looked at things in any other light than the true one--to tend to this
+death of self--I felt myself on the rack, which, as I had till then
+been so indifferent, very much surprised me. To the Lord I made my
+complaint; He graciously encouraged me, both on this subject and on
+that entire dependence on Himself which He gave me, which was such that
+I was like a new born infant.
+
+My sister had brought me a maid, whom God was willing to give me to
+fashion according to His will, not without some crucifixion to myself.
+I believe it never is to fall out, that our Lord will give me any
+persons without giving them wherewith to make me suffer, whether it be
+for the purpose of drawing them into a spiritual life, or never to
+leave me without the cross. She was one on whom the Lord had conferred
+very singular graces. She was in high reputation in the country, where
+she passed for a saint. Our Lord brought her to me, to let her see the
+difference between the sanctity conceived and comprised in those gifts,
+with which she was endowed, and that which is obtained by our entire
+destruction, even by the loss of those very gifts, and of all that
+raised us in the esteem of men. Our Lord had given her the same
+dependence on me, as I had in regard to Father La Combe.
+
+This girl fell grievously sick. I was willing to give her all the
+assistance in my power, but I found I had nothing to do but to command
+her bodily sickness, or the disposition of her mind; all that I said
+was done. It was then that I learned what it was to command by the
+Word, and to obey by the Word. It was Jesus Christ in me equally
+commanding and obeying.
+
+She, however, continued sick for sometime. One day, after dinner, I was
+moved to say to her, "Rise and be no longer sick." She arose and was
+cured. The nuns were very much astonished. They knew nothing of what
+had passed, but saw her walking, who in the morning had appeared to be
+in the last extremity. They attributed her disorder to a vivid
+imagination.
+
+I have at sundry times experienced, and felt in myself, how much God
+respects the freedom of man, even demands his free concurrence; for
+when I said, "Be healed," or, "Be free from your troubles," if such
+persons acquiesced, the Word was efficacious, and they were healed. If
+they doubted, or resisted, though under fair pretexts, saying, "I shall
+be healed when it pleases God, I will not be healed till He wills it;"
+or, in the way of despair, "I cannot be healed; I will not quit my
+condition," then the Word had no effect. I felt in myself that the
+divine virtue retired in me. I experienced what our Lord said, when the
+woman afflicted with the issue of blood touched him. He instantly
+asked, "Who touched me?" The apostles said, "Master, the multitude
+throng thee, and press thee; and sayest thou, Who touched me?" He
+replied, "It is because virtue hath gone out of me" (Luke 8:45, 46).
+Jesus Christ had caused that healing virtue to flow, through me, by
+means of His Word. When that virtue met not with a correspondence in
+the subject, I felt it suspended in its source. That gave me some pain.
+I should be, as it were, displeased with those persons; but when there
+was no resistance, but a full acquiescence, this divine virtue had its
+full effect. Healing virtue has so much power over things inanimate,
+yet the least thing in man either restrains it, or stops it entirely.
+
+There was a good nun much afflicted and under a violent temptation. She
+went to declare her case to a sister whom she thought very spiritual,
+and in a condition capable of assisting her. But far from finding
+succor, she was very much discouraged and cast down. The other despised
+and repulsed her, and treating her with contempt and rigor, she said,
+"Don't come near me, since you are that way." This poor girl, in a
+frightful distress, came to me thinking herself undone on account of
+what the sister had said to her. I consoled her and our Lord relieved
+her immediately. But I could not forbear telling her that assuredly the
+other would be punished, and would fall into a state worse than hers.
+The sister who had used her in such a manner came also to me, highly
+pleased with herself in what she had done, saying, she abhorred such
+tempted creatures. As for herself, she was proof against such sorts of
+temptations, and that she never had a bad thought. I said to her, "My
+sister, from the friendship I have for you I wish you the pain of her
+who spoke to you, and even one still more violent."
+
+She answered haughtily, "If you were to ask it from God for me, and I
+ask of Him the contrary, I believe I shall be heard at least as soon as
+you."
+
+I answered with great firmness, "If it be only my own interests which I
+ask, I shall not be heard; but if it be those of God only, and yours
+too, I shall be heard sooner than you are aware." That very night she
+fell into so violent a temptation that one equal to it has seldom been
+known. It was then she had ample occasion to acknowledge her own
+weakness, and what she would be without grace. She conceived at first a
+violent hatred for me, saying that I was the cause of her pain. But it
+served her, as the clay did to enlighten him who had been born blind.
+She soon saw very well what had brought on her so terrible a state.
+
+I fell sick even to extremity. This sickness proved a means to cover
+the great mysteries which it pleased God to operate in me. Scarce ever
+was a disorder more extraordinary, or of longer continuance in its
+excess. Several times I saw in dreams Father La Mothe raising
+persecutions against me. Our Lord let me know that this would be and
+that Father La Combe would forsake me in the time of persecution. I
+wrote to him, and it disquieted him greatly. He thought his heart was
+united to the will of God and too desirous of serving me, to admit such
+desertion; yet it has since been found quite true. He was now to preach
+during Lent, and was so much followed, that people came five leagues,
+to pass several days for the benefit of his ministry. I heard he was so
+sick that he was thought to die. I prayed to the Lord to restore his
+health, and enable him to preach to the people, who were longing to
+hear him. My prayer was heard, and he soon recovered, and resumed his
+pious labors.
+
+During this extraordinary sickness, which continued more than six
+months, the Lord gradually taught me that there was another manner of
+conversing among souls wholly His, than by speech. Thou madest me
+conceive, O divine Word, that as Thou art ever speaking and operating
+in a soul, though therein thou appearest in profound silence; so there
+was also a way of communication in thy creatures, in an ineffable
+silence. I heard then a language which before had been unknown to me. I
+gradually perceived, when Father La Combe entered, that I could speak
+no more. There was formed in my soul the same kind of silence toward
+him, as was formed in it in regard to God. I comprehended that God was
+willing to show me that men might in this life learn the language of
+angels. I was gradually reduced to speak to him only in silence. It was
+then that we understood each other in God, after a manner unutterable
+and divine. Our hearts spoke to each other, communicating a grace which
+no words can express. It was like a new country, both for him and for
+me; but so divine, that I cannot describe it. At first this was done in
+a manner so perceptible, that is to say, God penetrated us with Himself
+in a manner so pure and so sweet, that we passed hours in this profound
+silence, always communicative, without being able to utter one word. It
+was in this that we learned, by our own experience, the operations of
+the heavenly Word to reduce souls into unity with itself, and what
+purity one may arrive at in this life. It was given me to communicate
+this way to other good souls, but with this difference: I did nothing
+but communicate to them the grace with which they were filled, while
+near me, in this sacred silence, which infused into them an
+extraordinary strength and grace; but I received nothing from them;
+whereas with Father La Combe there was a flow and return of
+communication of grace, which he received from me, and I from him, in
+the greatest purity.
+
+In this long malady the love of God, and of Him alone, made up my whole
+occupation, I seemed so entirely lost to Him, as to have no sight of
+myself at all. It seemed as if my heart never came out of that divine
+ocean, having been drawn into it through deep humiliations. Oh, happy
+loss, which is the consummation of bliss, though operated through
+crosses and through deaths!
+
+Jesus was then living in me and I lived no more. These words were
+imprinted in me, as a real state into which I must enter, (Matt. 8:20)
+"The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son
+of Man hath not where to lay his head." This I have since experienced
+in all its extent, having no sure abode, no refuge among friends, who
+were ashamed of me, and openly renounced me, when universally decried;
+nor among my relations, most of whom declared themselves my
+adversaries, and were my greatest persecutors; while others looked on
+me with contempt and indignation. I might as David say, "For thy sake I
+have borne reproach; shame hath covered my face; I am become a stranger
+to my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children; a reproach to
+men, and despised of the people."
+
+He showed me all the world in a rage against me, without anyone daring
+to appear for me and assured me in the ineffable silence of His eternal
+Word, that He would give me vast numbers of children, which I should
+bring forth by the cross. I left it to Him to do with me whatever He
+pleased, esteeming my whole and sole interest to be placed entirely in
+His divine will. He gave me to see how the Devil was going to stir up
+an outrageous persecution against prayer, yet it should prove the
+source of the same prayer, or rather the means which God would make use
+of to establish it. He gave me to see farther how He would guide me
+into the wilderness, where He would cause me to be nourished for a
+time. The wings, which were to bear me thither, were the resignation of
+my whole self to His holy will. I think I am at present in that
+wilderness, separated from the whole world in my imprisonment. I see
+already accomplished in part what was then shown me. Can I ever express
+the mercies which my God has bestowed on me? No; they must ever remain
+in Himself, being of a nature not to be described, by reason of their
+purity and immensity.
+
+I was often to all appearance at the point of death. I fell into
+convulsions from violent pains which lasted a long time with violence.
+Father La Combe administered the sacrament to me, the Prioress of the
+Ursulines having desired him to do it. I was well satisfied to die, as
+was he also in the expectation of my departure. For, being united in
+God after a manner so pure, and so spiritual, death could not separate
+us. On the contrary it would have more closely united us. Father La
+Combe, who was on his knees at my bedside, remarking the change of my
+countenance, and how my eyes faded, seemed ready to give me up, when
+God inspired him to lift up his hands, and with a strong voice, which
+was heard by all who were in my room, at that time almost full, to
+command death to relinquish its hold. Instantly it seemed to be
+stopped. Thus God was pleased wonderfully to raise me up again; yet for
+a long time I continued extremely weak, during all of which our Lord
+gave me new testimonies of His love. How many times was He pleased to
+make use of His servant to restore me to life, when I was almost on the
+very point of expiring! As they saw that my sickness and pain did not
+entirely end, they judged that the air of the lake on which the convent
+was situated, was very prejudicial to my constitution. They concluded
+that it would be necessary for me to remove.
+
+During my indisposition, our Lord put it into the heart of Father La
+Combe to establish a hospital in this place for the poor people seized
+with maladies, to institute also a committee or congregation of ladies
+to furnish such as could not leave their families to go to the hospital
+with the means of subsistence during their illness, after the manner of
+France, there having been yet no institution of this kind in that
+country. Willingly did I enter into it; and without any other fund than
+Providence and some useless rooms which a gentleman of the town gave
+us, we began it. We dedicated it to the holy Child Jesus, and He was
+pleased to give the first beds to it from my pension. He gave such a
+blessing that several other persons joined us in this charity. In a
+short time there were nearly twelve beds in it and three persons of
+great piety gave themselves to this hospital to serve it, who, without
+any salary, consecrated themselves to the service of the poor patients.
+I supplied them with ointments and medicines, which were freely given
+to such of the poor people of the town as had need of them. These good
+ladies were so hearty in the cause, that, through their charity, and
+the care of the young women, this hospital was very well maintained and
+served. These ladies joined together also in providing for the sick who
+could not go to the hospital. I gave them some little regulations such
+as I had observed when in France, which they continued to keep up with
+tenderness and love.
+
+All these little things, which cost but little, and which owed all
+their success to the blessing which God gave them, drew upon us new
+persecutions. The Bishop of Geneva was offended with me more than ever,
+especially in seeing that these small matters rendered me beloved. He
+said that I won over everybody. He openly declared, "he could not bear
+me in his diocese," though I had done nothing but good, or rather God
+by me. He extended the persecution to those good religious women who
+had been my assistants. The prioress in particular had her own share to
+bear, though it did not last long. As I was obliged, on account of the
+air, to remove, after having been there about two years and a half,
+they were then more in peace and quietness. On another side, my sister
+was very weary of this house; and as the season for the waters
+approached, they took occasion from thence to send her away with the
+maid which I brought with me, who had molested me exceedingly in my
+late illness. I only kept her whom Providence had sent me by means of
+my sister. I have ever thought that God had ordered my sister's journey
+only to bring her to me, as one chosen of Him and proper for the state
+which it was His pleasure to cause me to bear.
+
+While I was yet indisposed, the Ursulines, with the Bishop of Verceil,
+earnestly requested the Father-general of the Barnabites, to seek among
+the religious, a man of merit, piety and learning, in whom he might
+place confidence, and who might serve him for a prebend and a
+counselor. At first he cast his eyes on Father La Combe; yet before he
+absolutely engaged him with the said bishop, he wrote to him, to know
+whether he had any objection thereto. Father La Combe replied that he
+had no other will but that of obeying him, and that he might command
+him herein as he should think best in the case. He gave me an account
+of this, and that we were going to be entirely separated. I was glad to
+find that our Lord would employ him, under a bishop who knew him, and
+would be likely to do him justice. Yet it was some time before he went,
+matters not being all arranged.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+
+I then went off from the Ursulines and they sought for a house for me
+at a distance from the lake. There was but one to be found empty which
+had the look of the greatest poverty. It had no chimney but in the
+kitchen, through which one was obliged to pass. I took my daughter with
+me and gave up the largest room for her and the maid who was to take
+care of her. I was lodged in a little hole on straw, to which I went up
+by ladder. As we had no other furniture but our beds, quite plain and
+homely, I brought some straw chairs and some Dutch earthen and wooden
+ware. Never did I enjoy a greater content than in this little hole,
+which appeared so very conformable to the state of Jesus Christ. I
+fancied everything better on wood than on plate. I laid in all my
+provisions, hoping to stay there a long time; but the Devil did not
+leave me long in such sweet peace. It would be difficult for me to tell
+the persecutions which were stirred up against me. They threw stones in
+at my windows which fell at my feet. I had put my little garden in
+order. They came in the night, tore it all up, broke down the arbor,
+and overturned everything in it, as if it had been ravaged by soldiers.
+They came to abuse me at the door all night long, making such a racket
+as if they were going to break it open. These persons have since told
+who the person was that put them on such work.
+
+Though from time to time I continued my charities at Gex, I was not the
+less persecuted for it. They offered one person a warrant to compel
+Father La Combe to stay at Tonon, thinking he would otherwise be a
+support to me in the persecution, but we prevented it. I knew not then
+the designs of God, and that He would soon draw me from that poor
+solitary place, in which I enjoyed a sweet and solid satisfaction,
+notwithstanding the abuse. I thought myself happier here than any
+sovereign on earth. It was for me like a nest and a place of repose and
+Christ was willing that I should be like Him. The Devil, as I have
+said, irritated my persecutors. They sent to desire me to go out of the
+diocese. All the good which the Lord had caused me to do in it was
+condemned, more than the greatest crimes. Crimes they tolerated, but me
+they could not endure. All this while I never had any uneasiness or
+repentance for my having left at all; not that I was assured of having
+done the will of God therein. Such an assurance would have been too
+much for me. But I could neither see nor regard anything, receiving
+everything alike from the hand of God, who directed and disposed of
+these crosses for me either in justice or in mercy.
+
+The Marchioness of Prunai, sister of the chief Secretary of State to
+his Royal Highness (the Duke of Savoy) and his prime minister, had sent
+an express from Turin, in the time of my illness, to invite me to come
+to reside with her; and to let me know that, "being so persecuted as I
+was in this diocese, I should find an asylum with her; that during that
+time things might grow better; that when they should be well disposed
+she would return with me and join me with a friend of mine from Paris,
+who was willing also to come to labor there, according to the will of
+God." I was not at that time in a condition to execute what she desired
+and expected to continue with the Ursulines till things should change.
+She then wrote to me about it no more. This lady is one of
+extraordinary piety, who had quitted the splendor and noise of the
+Court, for the more silent satisfaction of a retired life, and to give
+herself up to God. With an eminent share of natural advantages, she has
+continued a widow twenty-two years; has refused every offer of marriage
+to consecrate herself to our Lord entirely and without any reserve.
+When she knew that I had been obliged to leave the Ursulines, yet
+without knowing anything of the manner in which I had been treated, she
+procured a letter to oblige Father La Combe to go to pass some weeks at
+Turin, for her own benefit, and to bring me with him thither, where I
+should find a refuge. All this she did unknown to us. As she has told
+us since, a superior force moved her to do it, without knowing the
+cause. If she had deliberately reflected on it, being such a prudent
+lady, she probably would not have done it; because the persecutions,
+which the Bishop of Geneva procured us in that place, cost her more
+than a little of humiliations. Our Lord permitted him to pursue me,
+after a surprising manner, into all the places I have been in, without
+giving me any relaxation. I never did him any harm, but on the
+contrary, would have laid down my life for the good of his diocese.
+
+As this fell out without any design on our part, we, without
+hesitation, believed it was the will of God; and thought it might be
+the means of His appointment to draw us out of the reproach and
+persecution we labored under, seeing myself chased on the one side,
+desired on the other. It was concluded that Father La Combe should
+conduct me to Turin, and that he should go from thence to Verceil.
+
+Beside him, I took with me a religious man of merit, who had taught
+theology for fourteen years past, to take away from our enemies all
+cause for slander. I also took with me a boy whom I had brought out of
+France. They took horses, and I hired a carriage for my daughter, my
+chambermaid and myself. But all precautions are useless, when it
+pleases God to permit them to be frustrated. Our adversaries
+immediately wrote to Paris. A hundred ridiculous stories were
+circulated about this journey; comedies were acted on it, things
+invented at pleasure, and as false as anything in the world could be.
+It was my brother, Father de la Mothe, who was so active in uttering
+all this stuff. Had he believed it to be true, he ought out of charity
+to have concealed it; much more, being so very false. They said that I
+was gone all alone with Father La Combe, strolling about the country,
+from province to province, with many such fables, as weak and wicked as
+they were incoherent and badly put together. We suffered all with
+patience, without vindicating ourselves, or making any complaint.
+
+Scarcely were we arrived at Turin, but the Bishop of Geneva wrote
+against us. As he could pursue us no other way, he did it by letters.
+Father La Combe repaired to Verceil, and I staid at Turin, with the
+Marchioness of Prunai. But what crosses was I assaulted with in my own
+family, from the Bishop of Geneva, from the Barnabites, and from a vast
+number of persons besides! My eldest son came to find me on the death
+of my mother-in-law, which was an augmentation of my troubles. After we
+had heard all his accounts of things and how they had made sales of all
+the moveables, chosen guardians, and settled every article, without
+consulting me. I seemed to be there entirely useless. It was judged not
+proper for me to return, considering the rigor of the season.
+
+The Marchioness of Prunai, who had been so warmly desirous of my
+company, seeing my great crosses and reproaches, looked coldly upon me.
+My childlike simplicity, which was the state wherein God at that time
+kept me, passed with her for stupidity. For when the question was to
+help anyone, or about anything which God required of me, He gave me,
+with the weakness of a child, the evident tokens of divine strength.
+Her heart was quite shut up to me all the time I was there. Our Lord,
+however, made me foretell events which should happen, which since that
+time have actually been fulfilled, as well to herself as to her
+daughter, and to the virtuous ecclesiastic who lived at her house. She
+did not fail, at last, to conceive more friendship for me, seeing then
+that Christ was in me. It was the force of self-love, and fear of
+reproach, which had closed up her heart. Moreover, she thought her
+state more advanced than in reality it was, by reason of her being
+without tests; but she soon saw by experience that I had told her the
+truth. She was obliged for family reasons to leave Turin, and go to
+live on her own estate. She solicited me to go with her; but the
+education of my daughter did not permit. To stay at Turin without her
+seemed improper, because, having lived very retired in this place, I
+made no acquaintance in it. I knew not which way to turn. The Bishop of
+Verceil, where Father La Combe was, most obligingly wrote to me,
+earnestly entreating me to come, promising me his protection, and
+assuring me of his esteem, adding, "that he should look upon me as his
+own sister; that he wished extremely to have me there." It was his own
+sister, one of my particular friends, who had written to him about me,
+as had also a French gentleman, an acquaintance of his. But a point of
+honor kept me from it. I would not have it said that I had gone after
+Father La Combe, and that I had come to Turin only for the purpose of
+going to Verceil. He had also his reputation to preserve, which was the
+cause that he could not agree to my going thither, however importunate
+the Bishop was for it. Had we believed it to be the will of God, we
+would both of us have passed over these considerations. God kept us
+both in so great a dependence on His orders, that He did not let us
+foreknow them; but the divine moment of His providence determined
+everything. This proved of very great service to Father La Combe, who
+had long walked in assurances, to die to them and to Himself. God by an
+effect of His goodness, that he might thus die without any reserve,
+took them all from him.
+
+During the whole time of my residence at Turin, our Lord conferred on
+me very great favors. I found myself every day more transformed into
+Him, and had continually more knowledge of the state of souls, without
+ever being mistaken or deceived therein, though some were willing to
+persuade me to think the contrary. I had used my utmost endeavors to
+give myself other thoughts, which had caused me not a little pain. When
+I told, or wrote to Father La Combe about the state of some souls,
+which appeared to him more perfect and advanced than the knowledge
+given to me of them, he attributed it to pride. He was angry with me,
+and prejudiced against my state. I had no uneasiness on account of his
+esteeming me the less, for I was not in a condition to reflect whether
+he esteemed me or not. He could not reconcile my willing obedience in
+most things, with so extraordinary a firmness, which in certain cases
+he looked upon as criminal. He admitted a distrust of my grace; he was
+not yet sufficiently confirmed in his way, nor did he duly comprehend,
+that it did not in any wise depend on me to be one way or another. If I
+had any such power I should have suited myself to what he said, to
+spare myself the crosses which my firmness caused me. Or, at least, I
+would have artfully dissembled my real sentiments. I could do neither.
+Were all to perish by it, I was in such a manner constrained, that I
+could not forbear telling him the things, just as our Lord directed me
+to tell them to him. In this he had given me an inviolable fidelity to
+the very last. No crosses or pains have ever made me fail a moment
+therein. These things then, which appeared to him to be the strong
+prejudice of a conceited opinion, set him at variance against me.
+Though he did not openly show it, on the contrary tried to conceal it
+from me; yet how far distant soever he were from me, I could not be
+ignorant of it. My spirit felt it, and that more or less, as the
+opposition was stronger or weaker; as soon as it abated or ended, my
+pain, occasioned thereby, ceased. He also, on his side, experienced the
+same. He has told me and written to me many times over, "When I stand
+well with God, I find I am well with you. When I am otherwise with Him,
+I then find myself to be so with you also." Thus he saw clearly that
+when God received him, it was always in uniting him to me, as if He
+would accept of nothing from him but in this union.
+
+While he was at Turin, a widow who was a good servant of God, all in
+the brightness of sensibility, came to him to confess. She uttered
+wonderful things of her state. I was then at the other side of the
+confessional. He told me, "He had met with a soul given up to God; that
+it was she who was present; that he was very much edified by her; that
+he was far from finding the like in me; that I operated nothing but
+death upon his soul." At first I rejoiced at his having met with such a
+holy soul. It ever gives me the highest joy to see my God glorified. As
+I was returning, the Lord showed me clearly the state of that soul, as
+only a beginning of devotion mixed with affection and a little silence,
+filled with a new sensation. This and more, as it was set before me, I
+was obliged to write to him. On his first reading of my letter he
+discovered the stamp of truth in it; but soon after, letting in again
+his old reflections, he viewed all I wrote in the light of pride. He
+still had in his mind the ordinary rules of humility conceived and
+comprised after our manner. As to me, I let myself be led as a child,
+who says and does, without distinction, whatever it is made to say and
+do. I left myself to be led wheresoever my heavenly Father pleased,
+high or low; all was alike good to me.
+
+He wrote to me, that, at his first reading of my letter there appeared
+in it something of truth; but that on reading it over again, he found
+it to be full of pride, and of preference of my own discernments to
+that of others. Some time after he was more enlightened in regard to
+the state I was in. He then said, "continue to believe as you have
+done; I encourage and exhort you to do it." Some time after he
+sufficiently discovered, by that person's manner of acting, that she
+was very far from what he had thought. I give this as only one
+instance. I might give many others, but this may suffice.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+
+One night in a dream our Lord showed me, that He would also purify the
+maid whom He had given me, make her truly enter into death to herself.
+I freely resolved to suffer for her, as I did for Father La Combe. As
+she resisted God much more than he, and was much more under the power
+of self-love, she had more to be purified from. What I could not
+tolerate in her was her regard for herself. I saw clearly that the
+devil cannot hurt us only so far as we retain some fondness for this
+corrupt self. This sight was from God. He gave me the discerning of
+spirits, which would ever accept what was from Him, or reject what was
+not; that not from any common methods of judging, not from any outward
+information, but by an inward principle which is His gift alone.
+
+It is needful to mention here that souls which are yet in themselves,
+whatever degree of light and ardor they have attained, are unqualified
+for it. They often think they have this discernment, when it is nothing
+else but sympathy or antipathy of nature. Our Lord destroyed in me
+every sort of natural antipathy. The soul must be very pure, and
+depending on God alone, that all these things may be experienced in
+Him. In proportion as this maid became inwardly purified, my pain
+abated, till the Lord let me know her state was going to be changed,
+which soon happily ensued. In comparison of inward pain for souls,
+outward persecutions, though ever so violent, scarce gave me any.
+
+The Bishop of Geneva wrote to different persons. He wrote in my favor
+to such as he thought would show me his letters, and quite the contrary
+in the letters which he thought I would never see. It was so ordered
+that these persons, having showed each other their letters received
+from him, were struck with indignation to see in him so shameful a
+duplicity. They sent me those letters that I might take proper
+precautions. I kept them two years, and then burned them, not to hurt
+the prelate. The strongest battery he raised against me was what he did
+with the Secretary of State, who held that post in conjunction with the
+Marchioness of Prunai's brother. He used all imaginable endeavors to
+render me odious. He employed certain abbots for that purpose, insomuch
+that, though I appeared very little abroad, I was well known by the
+description this bishop had given of me. This did not make so much
+impression as it would have done, if he had appeared in a better light
+at Court. Some letters of his, which her royal highness found after the
+prince's death, written to him against her, had effect on the princess,
+that, instead of taking any notice of what he now wrote against me, she
+showed me great respect. She sent her request to me to come to see her.
+Accordingly I waited on her. She assured me of her protection, and that
+she was glad of my being in her dominions.
+
+It pleased God here to make use of me to the conversion of two or three
+ecclesiastics. But I had much to suffer from their repugnances and many
+infidelities--one of whom had vilified me greatly--and even after his
+conversion turned aside into his old ways. God at length graciously
+restored him.
+
+As I was undetermined whether I should place my daughter at the
+Visitation of Turin, or take some other course; I was exceedingly
+surprised, at a time I least expected it, to see Father La Combe arrive
+from Verceil. He told me that I must return to Paris without any delay.
+It was in the evening, and he said, "set off the next morning." I
+confess this sudden news startled me. It was for me a double sacrifice
+to return to a place where they had cried me down so much; also toward
+a family which held me in contempt, and who had represented my journey,
+caused by pure necessity, as a voluntary course, pursued through human
+attachments. Behold me then disposed to go off, without offering a
+single word in reply, with my daughter and my maid, without anybody to
+guide and attend us. Father La Combe was resolved not to accompany me,
+not so much as passing the mountains. The Bishop of Geneva had written
+on all sides that I was gone to Turin to run after him. But the Father
+Provincial, who was a man of quality, and well acquainted with the
+virtue of Father La Combe, told him, that it was improper and unsafe to
+venture on these mountains, without some person of acquaintance; the
+more as I had my little daughter with me. He therefore ordered him to
+accompany me. Father La Combe confessed to me that he had some
+reluctance to do it, and only obedience, and the danger to which I
+should have been exposed, made him surmount it. He was only to
+accompany me to Grenoble, and from thence to return to Turin. I went
+off then, designing for Paris, there to suffer whatever crosses and
+trials it should please God to inflict.
+
+What made me go by Grenoble was the desire I had to spend two or three
+days with a lady, an eminent servant of God, and one of my friends.
+When I was there Father La Combe and that lady spoke to me not to go
+any farther. God would glorify Himself in me and by me in that place.
+He returned to Verceil, and I left myself to be conducted as a child by
+Providence. This lady took me to the house of a good widow, there not
+being accommodations at the inn. As I was ordered to stop at Grenoble,
+at her house I resided. I placed my daughter in a convent, and resolved
+to employ all this time in resigning myself to be possessed in solitude
+by Him who is the absolute Sovereign of my soul. I made not any visit
+in this place; no more had I in any of the others where I had
+sojourned. I was greatly surprised when, a few days after my arrival,
+there came to see me several persons who made profession of a singular
+devotion to God. I perceived immediately a gift which He had given me,
+of administering to each that which suited their states. I felt myself
+invested, all of a sudden, with the apostolic state. I discerned the
+conditions of the souls of such persons as spoke to me, and that with
+so much facility, that they were surprised at it, and said one to
+another, that I gave every one of them "the very thing they had stood
+in need of." It was thou, O my God, who didst all these things; some of
+them sent others to me. It came to such excess, that, generally from
+six in the morning till eight in the evening, I was taken up in
+speaking of the Lord. People flocked on all sides, far and near,
+friars, priests, men of the world, maids, wives, widows, all came one
+after another. The Lord supplied me with what was pertinent and
+satisfactory to them all, after a wonderful manner, without any share
+of my study or meditation therein. Nothing was hid from me of their
+interior state, and of what passed within them. Here, O my God, Thou
+madest an infinite number of conquests known to Thyself only. They were
+instantly furnished with a wonderful facility of prayer. God conferred
+on them His grace plentifully, and wrought marvelous changes in them.
+The most advanced of these souls found, when with me, in silence, a
+grace communicated to them which they could neither comprehend, nor
+cease to admire. The others found an unction in my words, and that they
+operated in them what I said. Friars of different orders, and priests
+of merit, came to see me, to whom our Lord granted very great favors,
+as indeed He did to all, without exception, who came in sincerity.
+
+One thing was surprising; I had not a syllable to say to such as came
+only to watch my words, and to criticize them. Even when I thought to
+try to speak to them, I felt that I could not, and that God would not
+have me do it. Some of them in return said, "The people are fools to go
+to see that lady. She cannot speak." Others of them treated me as if I
+were only a stupid simpleton. After they left me there came one and
+said, "I could not get hither soon enough to apprize you not to speak
+to those persons; they come from such and such, to try what they can
+catch from you to your disadvantage." I answered them, "Our Lord has
+prevented your charity; for I was not able to say one word to them."
+
+I felt that what I spoke flowed from the fountain, and that I was only
+the instrument of Him who made me speak. Amid this general applause,
+our Lord made me comprehend what the apostolic state was, with which He
+had honored me; that to give one's self up to the help of souls, in the
+purity of His Spirit, was to expose one's self to the most cruel
+persecutions. These very words were imprinted on my heart: "To resign
+ourselves to serve our neighbor is to sacrifice ourselves to a gibbet.
+Such as now proclaim, 'Blessed is he who cometh in the name of the
+Lord,' will soon cry out, 'Away with him, crucify him.'" When one of my
+friends speaking of the general esteem the people had for me, I said to
+her, "Observe what I now tell you, that you will hear curses cut of the
+same mouths which at present pronounce blessings." Our Lord made me
+comprehend that I must be conformable to Him in all His states; and
+that, if He had continued in a private life with His parents, He never
+had been crucified; that, when He would resign any of His servants to
+crucifixion, He employed such in the ministry and service of their
+neighbors. It is certain that all the souls employed herein by
+apostolic destination from God, and who are truly in the apostolic
+state, are to suffer extremely. I speak not of those who put themselves
+into it, who, not being called of God in a singular manner, and having
+nothing of the grace of the apostleship, have none of its crosses; but
+of those only who surrender themselves to God without any reserve, and
+who are willing with their whole hearts to be exposed, for His sake, to
+sufferings without any mitigation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 15
+
+
+Among so great a number of good souls, on whom our Lord wrought much by
+me, some were given me only as plants to cultivate. I knew their state,
+but had not that near connection with, or authority over them, which I
+had over others. It was then that I comprehended the true maternity
+beyond what I had done before; for those of the latter kind were given
+me as children, of whom some were faithful. I knew they would be so;
+they were closely united to me in pure charity. Others were unfaithful;
+I knew that of these some would never return from their infidelity, and
+they were taken from me. Some, after slipping aside, were recovered.
+Both of them cost me much distress and inward pain, when, for want of
+courage to die to themselves, they gave up the point; and revolted from
+the good beginning they had been favored with.
+
+Our Lord, among such multitudes as followed Him on earth, had few true
+children. Wherefore He said to His Father, "Those that thou gavest me I
+have kept, and none of them is lost but the son of perdition," showing
+that He lost not any beside of His apostles, or disciples, though they
+sometimes made false steps.
+
+Among the friars who came to see me, there was one order which
+discovered the good effects of grace more than any other. Some of that
+very order had before this, in a little town where Father La Combe was
+in the exercise of his mission, been actuated with a false zeal, and
+violent in persecuting all the good souls which had sincerely dedicated
+themselves to God, plaguing them after such a manner as can scarce be
+conceived. They burned all their books which treated of silence and
+inward prayer, refusing absolution to such as were in the practice of
+it, driving into consternation, and almost into despair, such as had
+formerly led wicked lives, but were now reformed, and preserved in
+grace by means of prayer, becoming spotless and blameless in their
+conduct. These friars had proceeded to such an excess of wild zeal as
+to raise a sedition in that town, in which a father of the oratory, a
+person of distinction and merit, received strokes with a stick in the
+open street, because he prayed extempore in the evenings, and on
+Sundays made a short fervent prayer, which insensibly habituated these
+good souls to the use and practice of the like.
+
+I never had so much consolation as to see in this little town so many
+pious souls who with a heavenly emulation gave up their whole hearts to
+God. There were girls of twelve or thirteen years of age, who
+industriously followed their work almost all the day long, in silence,
+and in their employments enjoyed a communion with God, having acquired
+a fixed habit. As these girls were poor, they placed themselves two and
+two together, and such as could do it read to the others who could not.
+One saw there the innocence of the primitive Christians revived. There
+was in that town a poor laundress who had five children, and a husband
+paralytic, lame in the right arm, and yet worse distempered in mind
+than in body. He had little strength left for anything else than to
+beat her. This poor woman bore it with all the meekness and patience of
+an angel, while she by her labor supported him and his five children.
+She had a wonderful gift of prayer, and amid her great suffering and
+extreme poverty, preserved the presence of God, and tranquility of
+mind. There was also a shopkeeper, and one who made locks, very much
+affected with God. These were close friends. Sometimes the one and
+sometimes the other read to this laundress; and they were surprised to
+find that she was instructed by the Lord Himself in all they read to
+her, and spoke divinely of it.
+
+Those friars sent for this woman, and threatened her much if she did
+not leave off prayer, telling her it was only for churchmen to pray,
+and that she was very bold to practice it. She replied, that "Christ
+had commanded all to pray," that He had said, "What I say unto you I
+say unto all" (Mark 13:33, 37), without specifying either priests or
+friars; that without prayer she could not support her crosses and
+poverty; that formerly she had lived without it, and then was very
+wicked; that since she had been in the exercise of it, she had loved
+God with all her soul; so that to leave off prayer was to renounce her
+salvation, which she could not do. She added that they might take
+twenty persons who had never practiced prayer, and twenty of those who
+were in the practice of it. Then, said she, "Inform yourselves of the
+lives of both sorts, and ye will see if ye have any reason to cry out
+against prayer." Such words as these, from such a woman, one would
+think might have fully convinced them; but instead of that, it only
+irritated them the more. They assured her that she should have no
+absolution till she promised them to desist from prayer. She said that
+depended not on her, and that Christ is master of what He communicates
+to His creatures, and of doing with it what He pleases. They refused
+her absolution; and after railing at a good tailor, who served God with
+his whole heart, they ordered all the books without exception, which
+treated on prayer to be brought to them. They burned them with their
+own hands in the public square. They were very much elated with their
+performance; but all the town presently arose in an uproar. The
+principal men went to the Bishop of Geneva, and complained to him of
+the scandals of these new missionaries, so different from the others.
+Speaking of Father La Combe, who had been there before them on his
+mission, they said that these seemed as if they were sent to destroy
+all the good he had done. The bishop was forced to come himself to that
+town, and there to mount the pulpit, protesting that he had no share in
+it, and that these fathers had pushed their zeal too far. The friars,
+on the other side declared, they had done all they did, pursuant to the
+orders given them.
+
+There were also at Tonon young women who had retired together, being
+poor villagers, the better to earn their livelihood and to serve God.
+One of them read from time to time, while the others were at work, and
+not one went out without asking leave of the eldest. They wove
+ribbands, or spun, the strong supporting the weak. They separated these
+poor girls, and others beside them, in several villages, and drove them
+out of the church.
+
+It was the friars of the very order whom our Lord made use of to
+establish prayer in (I know not how) many places. Into the places where
+they went, they carried a hundred times more books of prayer than those
+which their brethren had burned. The hand of God appeared to me
+wonderfully in these things.
+
+One day when I was sick, a brother who had skill in curing diseases,
+came for a charitable collection, but hearing I was ill, came in to see
+me, and gave me medicines proper for my disorder. We entered into a
+conversation which revived in him the love he had for God, which he
+acknowledged had been too much stifled by his occupations. I made him
+comprehend that there was no employment which should hinder him from
+loving God, and from being occupied within himself. He readily believed
+me, as he already had a good share of piety, and of an interior
+disposition. Our Lord conferred on him many favors, and gave him to be
+one of my true children.
+
+I saw at this time, or rather experienced the ground on which God
+rejects sinners from His bosom. All the cause of God's rejection is in
+the will of the sinner. If that will submits, how horrible soever he
+be, God purifies him in his love, and receives him into his grace; but
+while that will rebels, the rejection continues. For want of ability
+seconding his inclination, he should not commit the sin he is inclined
+to, yet he never can be admitted into grace till the cause ceases,
+which is this wrong will, rebellious to the divine law. If that once
+submits, God then totally removes the effects of sin, which stain the
+soul, by washing away the defilements which he has contracted. If that
+sinner dies in the time that his will is rebellious and turned toward
+sin, as death fixes forever the disposition of the soul, and the cause
+of its impurity is ever subsisting, such soul can never be received
+into God. Its rejection must be eternal, as there is such an absolute
+opposition between essential purity and essential impurity. And as this
+soul, from its own nature necessarily tends to its own center, it is
+continually rejected of the Lord, by reason of its impurity, subsisting
+not only in the effects, but in their cause. It is the same way in this
+life. This cause, so long as it subsists, absolutely hinders the grace
+of God from operating in the soul. But if the sinner comes to die truly
+penitent, then the cause, which is the wrong will, being taken away,
+there remains only the effect or impurity caused by it. He is then in a
+condition to be purified. God of his infinite mercy has provided a
+laver of love and of justice, a painful laver indeed, to purify this
+soul. And as the defilement is greater or less, so is the pain; but
+when the cause is utterly taken away, the pain entirely ceases. Souls,
+are received into grace, as soon as the cause of sin ceases; but they
+do not pass into the Lord Himself, till all its effects are washed
+away. If they have not courage to let Him, in His own way and will,
+thoroughly cleanse and purify them, they never enter into the pure
+divinity in this life.
+
+The Lord incessantly solicits this will to cease to be rebellious, and
+spares nothing on His side for this good end. The will is free, yet
+grace follows it still. As soon as the will ceases to rebel, it finds
+grace at the door, ready to introduce its unspeakable benefits. O, the
+goodness of the Lord and baseness of the sinner, each of them amazing
+when clearly seen!
+
+Before I arrived at Grenoble, the lady, my friend, saw in a dream that
+our Lord gave me an infinite number of children all uniformly clad,
+bearing on their habits the marks of candor and innocence. She thought
+I was coming to take care of the children of the hospital. But as soon
+as she told me, I discerned that it was not that which the dream meant;
+but that our Lord would give me, by a spiritual fruitfulness, a great
+number of children; that they would not be my true children, but in
+simplicity, candor and innocence. So great an aversion I have to
+artifice and disguise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 16
+
+
+The physician of whom I have spoken, was disposed to lay open his heart
+to me. Our Lord gave him through me all that was necessary for him; for
+though disposed to the spiritual life, yet for want of courage and
+fidelity he had not duly advanced in it.
+
+He had occasion to bring to me some of his companions who were friars;
+and the Lord took hold of them all. It was at the very same time, that
+the others of the same order were making all the ravages I have
+mentioned, and opposing with all their might the Holy Spirit of the
+Lord. I could not but admire to see how the Lord was pleased to make
+amends for former damages, pouring out His Spirit in abundance on these
+men, while the others were laboring vehemently against it, doing all
+they could to destroy its dominion and efficacy in their
+fellow-mortals. But those good souls instead of being staggered by
+persecutions, grew the stronger by it. The Superior, and the master of
+the novices of the house in which this doctor was declared against me,
+without knowing me. They were grievously chagrined that a woman, as
+they said, should be so much flocked to, and so much sought after.
+Looking at things as they were in themselves, and not as they were in
+the Lord, who does whatever pleases Him, they had contempt for the gift
+which was lodged in so mean an instrument, instead of esteeming the
+Lord and His grace. Yet this good brother at length got the superior to
+come to see me, and thank me for the good which he said I had done. Our
+Lord so ordered, that he found something in my conversation which
+reached and took hold of him. At length he was completely brought over.
+He it was, who some time after, being visitor, dispersed such a number
+of those books, bought at their own charge, which the others had tried
+utterly to destroy. Oh, how wonderful art Thou, my God! In all Thy ways
+how wise, in all Thy conduct how full of love! How well Thou canst
+frustrate all the false wisdom of men, and triumph over their vain
+pretensions!
+
+There were in this noviciate many novices. The eldest of them grew so
+very uneasy under his vocation, that he knew not what to do. So great
+was his trouble that he could neither read, study, pray, nor do
+scarcely any of his duties. His companion brought him to me. We spoke
+awhile together, and the Lord discovered to me both the cause of his
+disorder and its remedy. I told it to him; and he began to practice
+prayer, even that of the heart. He was on a sudden wonderfully changed,
+and the Lord highly favored him. As I spoke to him grace wrought in his
+heart, and his soul drank it in, as the parched ground does the gentle
+rain. He felt himself relieved of his pain before he left the room. He
+then readily, joyfully, and perfectly performed all his exercises,
+which before were done with reluctance and disgust. He now both studied
+and prayed easily, and discharged all his duties, in such a manner,
+that he was scarce known to himself or to others. What astonished him
+most was a remarkable gift of prayer. He saw that there was readily
+given him what he could never have before, whatever pains he took for
+it. This enlivening gift was the principle which made him act, gave him
+grace for his employments, and an inward fruition of the grace of God,
+which brought all good with it. He gradually brought me all the
+novices, all of whom partook of the effects of grace, though
+differently, according to their different temperaments. Never was there
+a more flourishing noviciate.
+
+The master and superior could not forbear admiring so great a change in
+their novices, though they did not know the cause of it. One day, as
+they were speaking of it to the collector, for they esteemed him highly
+on account of his virtue, he said, "My fathers, if you will permit me,
+I will tell you the reason of it. It is the lady against whom you have
+exclaimed so much without knowing her, whom God has made use of for all
+of this." They were very surprised; and both the master, though
+advanced in age, and his superior then submitted humbly to practice
+prayer, after the manner taught by a little book, which the Lord
+inspired me to write, and of which I shall say more hereafter. They
+reaped such benefit from it, that the superior said to me, "I am become
+quite a new man. I could not practice prayer before, because my
+reasoning faculty was grown dull and exhausted; but now I do it as
+often as I will, with ease, with much fruit, and a quite different
+sensation of the presence of God." And the master said, "I have been a
+friar these forty years, and can truly say that I never knew how to
+pray; nor have I ever known or tasted of God, as I have done since I
+read that little book."
+
+Many others were gained to God, whom I looked on to be my children. He
+gave me three famous friars, of an order by which I have been, and
+still am, very much persecuted. He made me also of service to a great
+number of nuns, of virtuous young women, and even men of the world;
+among the rest a young man of quality, who had quitted the order of the
+knights of Malta, to take that of the priesthood. He was the relation
+of a bishop near him, who had other designs of preferment for him. He
+has been much favored of the Lord, and is constant in prayer. I could
+not describe the great number of souls which were then given me, as
+well maids, as wives, priests and friars. But there were three curates,
+one canon, and one grand-vicar, who were more particularly given me.
+There was one priest for whom I suffered much, through his not being
+willing to die to himself, and loving himself too much. With a sad
+regret I saw him decaying, falling away. As for the others there are
+some of them who have continued stedfast and immovable, and some whom
+the tempest has shaken a little, but not torn away. Though these start
+aside, yet they still return. But those who are snatched quite away
+return no more.
+
+There was one true daughter given me, whom our Lord made use of to gain
+many others to Him. She was in a strange state of death when I first
+saw her, and by me He gave her life and peace. She afterward, fell
+extremely ill. The doctors said she would die; but I had an assurance
+of the contrary, and that God would make use of her to gain souls, as
+he has done. There was in a monastery a young woman confined in a state
+of distraction. I saw her, knew her case, and that it was not what they
+thought it was. As soon as I had spoken to her she recovered. But the
+prioress did not like that I should tell her my thoughts of it, because
+the person who had brought her thither was her friend. They plagued her
+more than before, and threw her back again into her distraction.
+
+A sister of another monastery had been for eight years in a deep
+melancholy unrelieved by anyone. Her director increased it, by
+practicing remedies contrary to her disorder. I had never been in that
+monastery; for I did not go into such places, unless I was sent for, as
+I did not think it right to intrude, but left myself to be conducted of
+Providence. I was very much surprised that at eight o'clock at night
+one came for me from the prioress. It was in the long days of summer,
+and being near, I went. I met with a sister who told me her case. She
+had gone to such excess, that seeing no remedy for it, she had taken a
+knife to kill herself. The knife fell out of her hand and a person
+coming to see her had advised her to speak to me. Our Lord made me know
+at first what the matter was; and that He required her to resign
+herself to Him, instead of resisting Him as they had made her do for
+eight years. I was instrumental to draw her into such a resignation,
+that she entered at once into a peace of paradise; all her pains and
+troubles were instantly banished; and never returned again. She has the
+greatest capacity of any in the house. She was presently so changed as
+to be the admiration of the whole community. Our Lord gave her a very
+great gift of prayer and His continual presence, with a faculty and
+readiness for everything. A domestic also, who had troubled her for
+twenty-two years past, was delivered from her troubles. That produced a
+close tie of friendship between the prioress and me, as the wonderful
+change and the peace of this sister surprised her, she having so often
+seen her in her terrible sorrow. I also contracted other such ties in
+this monastery, where there are souls under the Lord's special regard,
+whom He drew to Himself by the means He had been pleased to make
+choice.
+
+I was specially moved to read the Holy Scriptures. When I began I was
+impelled to write the passage, and instantly its explication was given
+me, which I also wrote, going on with inconceivable expedition, light
+being poured in upon me in such a manner, that I found I had in myself
+latent treasures of wisdom and knowledge which I had not yet known of.
+Before I wrote I knew not what I was going to write. And after I had
+written, I remembered nothing of what I had penned; nor could I make
+use of any part of it for the help of souls. The Lord gave me, at the
+time I spoke to them (without any study or reflection of mine) all that
+was necessary for them. Thus the Lord made me go on with an explanation
+of the holy internal sense of the Scriptures. I had no other book but
+the Bible, nor ever made use of any but that, and without even seeking
+for any. When, in writing on the Old Testament, I made use of passages
+of the New, to support what I had said, it was without seeking them,
+they were given me along with the explication; and in writing on the
+New Testament, therein making use of passages of the Old, they were
+given me in like manner without my seeking anything. I had scarce any
+time for writing but in the night, allowing only one or two hours to
+sleep. The Lord made me write with so much purity, that I was obliged
+to leave off or begin again, as He was pleased to order. When I wrote
+by day, often suddenly interrupted, I left the word unfinished, and He
+afterward gave me what He pleased. If I gave way to reflection I was
+punished for it, and could not proceed. Yet sometimes I was not duly
+attentive to the divine Spirit, thinking I did well to continue when I
+had time, even without feeling His immediate impulse or enlightning
+influence, from whence it is easy to see some places clear and
+consistent, and others which have neither taste nor unction; such is
+the difference of the Spirit of God from the human and natural spirit.
+Although they are left just as I wrote them, yet I am ready, if
+ordered, to adjust them according to my present light.
+
+Didst thou not, O my God, turn me a hundred ways, to prove whether I
+was without any reserve, through every kind of trial, or whether I had
+not yet some little interest for myself? My soul became hereby readily
+too pliable to every discovery of the divine will, and whatever kind of
+humiliations attended me to counterbalance my Lord's favors, till
+everything, high or low, was rendered alike to me.
+
+Methinks the Lord acts with His dearest friends as the sea with its
+waves. Sometimes it pushes them against the rocks where they break in
+pieces, sometimes it rolls them on the sand, or dashes them on the
+mire, then instantly it retakes them into the depths of its own bosom,
+where they are absorbed with the same rapidity that they were first
+ejected. Even among the good the far greater part are souls only of
+mercy; surely that is well; but to appertain to divine justice, oh, how
+rare and yet how great! Mercy is all distributive in favor of the
+creature, but justice destroys everything of the creature, without
+sparing anything.
+
+The lady, who was my particular friend, began to conceive some jealousy
+on the applause given me, God so permitting if for the farther
+purification of her soul, through this weakness, and the pain it caused
+her. Also some confessors began to be uneasy, saying that it was none
+of my business to invade their province, and to meddle in the helps of
+souls; that there were some of the penitents which had a great
+affection for me. It was easy for me to observe the difference between
+those confessors who, in their conducting of souls, seek nothing but
+God, and those who seek themselves therein. The first came to see me,
+and rejoiced greatly at the grace of God bestowed on their penitents,
+without fixing their attention on the instrument. The others, on the
+contrary, tried underhand to stir up the town against me. I saw that
+they would be in the right to oppose me, if I had intruded of myself;
+but I could do nothing but what the Lord made me do. At times there
+came some to dispute and oppose me. Two friars came, one of them a man
+of profound learning and a great preacher. They came separately, after
+having studied a number of difficult things to propose to me. Though
+they were matters far out of my reach, the Lord made me answer as
+justly as if I had studied them all my life; after which I spoke to
+them as He inspired me. They went away not only convinced and
+satisfied, but affected with the love of God.
+
+I still continued writing with a prodigious swiftness; for the hand
+could scarcely follow fast enough the Spirit which dictated. Through
+the whole progress of so long a work I never altered my manner nor made
+use of any other book than the Bible itself. The transcriber, whatever
+diligence he used, could not copy in five days what I wrote in one
+night. Whatever is good in it comes from God only. Whatever is
+otherwise from myself; I mean from the mixture which I have made,
+without duly attending to it, of my own impurity with his pure and
+chaste doctrine. In the day I had scarcely time to eat, by reason of
+the vast numbers of people which came thronging to me. I wrote the
+canticles in a day and a half, and received several visits besides.
+
+Here I may add to what I have said about my writings, that a
+considerable part of the book of Judges happened by some means to be
+lost. Being desired to render that book complete, I wrote again the
+places lost. Afterward when the people were about leaving the house,
+they were found. My former and latter explications, on comparison, were
+found to be perfectly conformable to each other, which greatly
+surprised persons of knowledge and merit, who attested the truth of it.
+
+There came to see me a counselor of the parliament, a servant of God,
+who finding on my table a tract on prayer, which I had written long
+before, desired me to lend it. Having read it and liked it much, he
+lent it to some friends, to whom he thought it might be of service.
+Everyone wanted copies of it. He resolved therefore to have it printed.
+The impression was begun, and proper approbations given to it. They
+requested me to write a preface, which I did, and thus was that little
+book printed. This counselor was one of my intimate friends, and a
+pattern of piety. The book has already passed through five or six
+editions; and our Lord has given a very great benediction to it. Those
+good friars took fifteen hundred of them. The devil became so enraged
+against me on account of the conquest which God made by me, that I was
+assured he was going to stir up against me a violent persecution. All
+that gave me no trouble. Let him stir up against me ever so strange
+persecutions. I know they will all serve to the glory of my God.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 17
+
+
+A poor girl of very great simplicity, who earned her livelihood by her
+labor, and was inwardly favored of the Lord, came all sorrowful to me,
+and said, "Oh my mother, what strange things have I seen!" I asked what
+they were, "Alas" said she, "I have seen you like a lamb in the midst
+of a vast troop of furious wolves. I have seen a frightful multitude of
+people of all ranks and robes, of all ages, sexes and conditions,
+priests, friars, married men, maids and wives, with pikes, halberts and
+drawn swords, all eager for your instant destruction. You let them
+alone without stirring, or being surprised and without offering any way
+to defend yourself. I looked on all sides to see whether anyone would
+come to assist and defend you; but I saw not one."
+
+Some days after, those, who through envy were raising private batteries
+against me, broke forth. Libels began to spread. Envious people wrote
+against me, without knowing me. They said that I was a sorceress, that
+it was by a magic power I attracted souls, that everything in me was
+diabolical; that if I did charities, it was because I coined, and put
+off false money, with many other gross accusations, equally false,
+groundless and absurd.
+
+As the tempest increased every day, some of my friends advised me to
+withdraw, but before I mention my leaving Grenoble, I must say
+something farther of my state while here.
+
+It seemed to me that all our Lord made me do for souls, would be in
+union with Jesus Christ. In this divine union my words, had wonderful
+effect, even the formation of Jesus Christ in the souls of others. I
+was in no wise able of myself to say the things I said. He who
+conducted me made me say what He pleased, and as long as He pleased. To
+some I was not permitted to speak a word; and to others there flowed
+forth as it were a deluge of grace, and yet this pure love admitted not
+of any superfluity, or a means of empty amusement. When questions were
+asked, to which an answer were useless, it was not given me. It was the
+same in regard to such as our Lord was pleased to conduct through death
+to themselves, and who came to seek for human consolation. I had
+nothing for them but what was purely necessary, and could proceed no
+farther. I could at least only speak of indifferent things, in such
+liberty as God allows, in order to suit everyone, and not to be
+unsociable or disagreeable to any; but for His own word, He Himself is
+the dispenser of it. Oh, if preachers were duly careful to speak only
+in that spirit what fruits would they bring forth in the lives of the
+hearers! With my true children I could communicate best in silence, in
+the spiritual language of the divine Word. I had the consolation some
+time before to hear one read in St. Augustine a conversation he had
+with his mother. He complains of the necessity of returning from that
+heavenly language to words. I sometimes said, "Oh, my Love, give me
+hearts large enough to receive and contain the fulness bestowed on me."
+
+After this manner, when the Holy Virgin approached Elizabeth, a
+wonderful commerce was maintained between Jesus Christ and St. John the
+Baptist, who after this manifested no eagerness to come to see Christ,
+but was drawn to retire into the desert, to receive the like
+communications with the greatest plenitude. When he came forth to
+preach repentance, he said, not that he was the Word, but only a Voice
+which was sent to make way, or open a passage into the hearts of the
+people for Christ the Word. He baptized only with water, for that was
+his function; for, as the water in running off leaves nothing, so does
+the Voice when it is past. But the Word baptized with the Holy Ghost,
+because He imprinted Himself on souls, and communicated with them by
+that Holy Spirit. It is not observed that Jesus Christ said anything
+during the whole obscure part of His life, though it is true that not
+any of His words shall be lost. Oh Love, if all thou hast said and
+operated in silence were to be written, I think the whole world could
+not contain the books that should be written. John 21:25.
+
+All that I experienced was shown me in the Holy Scripture. I saw with
+admiration that there passed nothing within my soul which was not in
+Jesus Christ and in the Holy Scriptures. I must pass over very many
+things in silence, because they cannot be expressed. If they were
+expressed they could not be understood or comprehended.
+
+I often felt much for Father La Combe, who was not yet fixed in his
+state of interior death, but often rose and fell into alternatives. I
+was made sensible that Father La Combe was a vessel of election, whom
+God had chosen to carry His name among the Gentiles, and that He would
+show him how much he must suffer for that name. A carnal world judges
+carnally of them, and imputes to human attachment what is from the
+purest grace. If this union by any deviation be broken, the more pure
+and perfect it is, the more painfully will it be felt; the separation
+of the soul from God by sin being worse than that from the body of
+death. For myself I may say I had a continual dependence on God, in
+every state; my soul was ever willing to obey every motion of His
+Spirit. I thought there could not be anything in the world which He
+could require from me, to which I would not give myself up readily and
+with pleasure. I had no interest at all for myself. When God requires
+anything from this wretched nothing, I find no resistance left in me to
+do His will, how rigorous soever it may appear. If there is a heart in
+the world of which Thou art the sole and absolute master, mine seems to
+be one of that sort. Thy will, however rigorous, is its life and its
+pleasure.
+
+To resume the thread of my story, the Bishop of Grenoble's Almoner
+persuaded me to go for some time to Marseilles, to let the storm pass
+over. He told me that I would be well received there, it being his
+native soil, and that many people of merit were there. I wrote to
+Father La Combe for his consent. He readily gave it. I might have gone
+to Verceil; for the Bishop of Verceil had written me very obliging
+letters, earnestly pressing me to come. But a human respect, and fear
+of affording a handle to my enemies, gave me an extreme aversion
+thereto.
+
+Beside the above, the Marchioness of Prunai, who, since my departure
+from her, had been more enlightened by her own experience, having met
+with a part of the things which I thought would befall her, had
+conceived for me a very strong friendship and intimate union of spirit,
+in such a manner that no two sisters could be more united than we. She
+was extremely desirous that I would return to her, as I had formerly
+promised her. But I could not resolve upon this, lest it should be
+thought that I was gone after Father La Combe. There had been no room
+given to anybody to accuse me of any indirect attachment to him; for
+when it depended on myself not to continue with him, I did not do it.
+The Bishop of Geneva had not failed to write against me to Grenoble, as
+he had done to other places. His nephew had gone from house to house to
+cry me down. All this was indifferent to me; and I did not cease to do
+to his diocese all the good in my power. I even wrote to him in a
+respectful manner; but his heart was too much closed to yield to
+anything.
+
+Before I left Grenoble, that good girl I have spoken of came to me
+weeping, and told me that I was going, and that I hid it from her,
+because I would have nobody know it; but that the Devil would be before
+me in all the places I should go to; that I was going to a town, where
+I would scarce be arrived, before he would stir up the whole town
+against me, and would do me all the harm he possibly could. What had
+obliged me to conceal my departure, was my fear of being loaded with
+visits, and testimonies of friendship from a number of good persons,
+who had a very great affection for me.
+
+I embarked then upon the Rhone, with my maid and a young woman of
+Grenoble, whom the Lord has highly favored through my means. The Bishop
+of Grenoble's Almoner also accompanied me, with another very worthy
+ecclesiastic. We met with many alarming accidents and wonderful
+preservations; but those instant dangers, which affrighted others, far
+from alarming me, augmented my peace. The Bishop of Grenoble's Almoner
+was much astonished. He was in a desperate fright, when the boat struck
+against a rock, and opened at the stroke. In his emotion looking
+attentively at me, he observed that I did not change my countenance, or
+move my eyebrows, retaining all my tranquillity. I did not so much as
+feel the first emotions of surprise, which are natural to everybody on
+those occasions, as they depend not on ourselves. What caused my peace
+in such dangers as terrify others, was my resignation to God, and
+because death is much more agreeable to me than life, if such were His
+will, to which I desire to be ever patiently submissive.
+
+A man of quality, a servant of God, and one of my intimate friends had
+given me a letter for a knight of Malta, who was very devout, and whom
+I have esteemed since I have known him, as a man whom our Lord designed
+to serve the order of Malta greatly, and to be its ornament and support
+by his holy life. I had told him that I thought he should go thither,
+and that God would assuredly make use of him to diffuse a spirit of
+piety into many of the knights. He has actually gone to Malta, where
+the first places were soon given him. This man of quality sent him my
+little book of prayer and printed at Grenoble. He had a chaplain very
+averse to the spiritual path. He took this book, and condemning it at
+once, went to stir up a part of the town, and among the rest a set of
+men who called themselves the seventy-two disciples of St. Cyran. I
+arrived at Marseilles at ten o'clock in the morning, and that very
+afternoon all was in a noise against me. Some went to speak to the
+bishop, telling him that, on account of that book, it was necessary to
+banish me from the city. They gave him the book which he examined with
+one of his prebends. He liked it well. He sent for Monsieur Malaval and
+a father Recollect, who he knew had come to see me a little after my
+arrival, to inquire of them from whence that great tumult had its rise,
+which indeed had no other effect on me than to make me smile, seeing so
+soon accomplished what that young woman had foretold me. Monsieur
+Malaval and that good father told the bishop what they thought of me;
+after which he testified much uneasiness at the insult given me. I was
+obliged to go to see him. He received me with extraordinary respect,
+and begged my excuse for what had happened; desired me to stay at
+Marseilles, and assured me that he would protect me. He even asked
+where I lodged, that he might come to see me.
+
+Next day the Bishop of Grenoble's Almoner went to see him, with that
+other priest who had come with us. The Bishop of Marseilles again
+testified to them his sorrow for the insults given me without any
+cause; and told them, that it was usual with those persons to insult
+all such as were not of their cabal, that they had even insulted
+himself. They were not content with that. They wrote to me the most
+offensive letters possible, though at the same time they did not know
+me. I apprehended that our Lord was beginning in earnest to take from
+me every place of abode; and those words were renewed in my mind, "The
+foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of
+man hath not where to lay his head."
+
+In the short time of my stay at Marseilles, I was instrumental in
+supporting some good souls, and among others an ecclesiastic, who till
+then was unacquainted with me. After having finished his thanksgiving
+in the church, seeing me go out, he followed me into the house in which
+I lodged. Then he told me that the Lord had inspired him to address me,
+and to open his inward state to me. He did it with as much simplicity
+as humility, and the Lord gave him through me all that was necessary
+for him, from whence he was filled with joy, and thankful
+acknowledgments to God. Although there were many spiritual persons
+there, and even of his intimate friends, he never had been moved to
+open his mind to any of them. He was a servant of God, and favored by
+Him with a singular gift of prayer. During the eight days I was at
+Marseilles, I saw many good souls there. Through all my persecutions,
+our Lord always struck some good stroke of His own right hand, and that
+good ecclesiastic was delivered from an anxiety of mind, which had much
+afflicted him for some years.
+
+After I had left Grenoble, those who hated me, without knowing me,
+spread libels against me. A woman for whom I had great love, and whom I
+had even extricated from an engagement which she had continued in for
+several years, and contributed to her discarding the person to whom she
+had been attached, suffered her mind to resume its fondness for that
+pernicious engagement. She became violently enraged against me for
+having broken it off. Although I had freely been at some expense to
+procure her freedom, still she went to the Bishop of Grenoble, to tell
+him that I had counseled her to do an act of injustice. She then went
+from confessor to confessor, repeating the same story, to animate them
+against me. As they were too susceptible of the prejudices infused, the
+fire was soon kindled in all quarters. There were none but those who
+knew me, and who loved God, that took my part. They became more closely
+united to me in sympathy through my persecution. It would have been
+very easy for me to destroy the calumny, as well with the Bishop of
+Grenoble. I needed only to tell who the person was, and show the fruits
+of her disorder. I could not declare the guilty person, without making
+known at the same time the other who had been her accomplice, who now,
+being touched of God, was very penitent, I thought it best for me to
+suffer and be silent. There was a very pious man who knew all her
+history, from the beginning to the end of it, who wrote to her, that if
+she did not retract her lies, he would publish the account of her
+wicked life, to make known both her gross iniquity and my innocence.
+She continued some time in her malice, writing that I was a sorceress,
+with many other falsehoods. Some time after she had such a cruel
+remorse of conscience on this account, that she wrote both to the
+bishop and others to retract what she had said. She induced one to
+write to me, to inform me that she was in despair for what she had
+done; that God had punished her. After these recantations the outcry
+abated, the bishop disabused, and since that time he has testified a
+great regard for me. This creature had, among other things, said that I
+caused myself to be worshiped; also other unparalleled follies.
+
+From Marseilles I knew not how or whither I should turn next. I saw no
+likelihood either of staying or of returning to Grenoble, where I had
+left my daughter in a convent. Father La Combe had written to me that
+he did not think I ought to go to Paris. I even felt a strong
+repugnance to the idea of going, which made me think it was not yet the
+time for it. One morning I felt myself inwardly pressed to go
+somewhere. I took a conveyance to go to see the Marchioness of Prunai,
+which was, I thought, the most honorable refuge for me in my present
+condition. I thought I might pass through Nice on my way to her
+habitation, as some had assured me I might. But when I arrived at Nice,
+I was greatly surprised to learn that the conveyance could not pass the
+mountain. I knew not what to do, nor which way to turn, alone, forsaken
+of everybody, and not knowing what God required of me. My confusion and
+crosses seemed to increase. I saw myself, without refuge or retreat,
+wandering as a vagabond. All the tradesmen, whom I saw in their shops,
+appeared to me happy, in having a dwelling of their own in which to
+retire. Nothing in the world seemed harder than this wandering life to
+me, who naturally loved propriety and decorum. As I was in this
+uncertainty, not knowing what course to take, one came to tell me that
+next day a sloop would set off, which used to go in one day to Genoa;
+and that if I chose it, they would land me at Savona, from whence I
+might get myself carried to the Marchioness of Prunai's house. To that
+I consented, as I could not be supplied with any other way.
+
+I had some joy at embarking on the sea. I said in myself, "If I am the
+dregs of the earth, the scorn and offscouring of nature, I am now going
+to embark on the element which above all others is the most
+treacherous; if it be the Lord's pleasure to plunge me in the waves, it
+shall be mine to perish in them." There came a tempest in a place
+dangerous for a small boat; and the mariners were some of the
+wickedest. The irritation of the waves gave a satisfaction to my mind.
+I pleased myself in thinking that those mutinous billows might probably
+supply me with a grave. Perhaps I carried the point too far in the
+pleasure I took, at seeing myself beaten and bandied by the waters.
+Those who were with me, took notice of my intrepidity, but knew not the
+cause of it. I asked some little hole of a rock to be placed in, there
+to live separate from all creatures. I figured to myself, that some
+uninhabited island would have terminated all my disgraces, and put me
+in a condition of infallibly doing Thy will. Thou designedst me a
+prison far different from that of the rock, and quite another
+banishment than that of the uninhabited island. Thou reservest me to be
+battered by billows, more irritated than those of the sea. Calumnies
+proved to be the unrelenting waves, to which I was to be exposed, in
+order to be lashed and tossed by them without mercy. By the tempest we
+were kept back, and instead of a short day's passage to Genoa, we were
+eleven days making it. How peaceable was my heart in so violent an
+agitation! We could not land at Savona. We were obliged to go on to
+Genoa. We arrived there in the beginning of the week before Easter.
+
+While I was there I was obliged to bear the insults of the inhabitants,
+caused by the resentment they had against the French because of the
+havoc of a late bombardment. The Doge was newly gone out of the city,
+and had carried off with him all the coaches. I could not get one, and
+was obliged to stay several days at excessive expenses. The people
+there demanded of us exorbitant sums, and as much for every single
+person as they would have asked for a company at the best eating place
+in Paris. I had little money left, but my store in Providence could not
+be exhausted. I begged with the greatest earnestness for a carriage at
+any price, to pass the feast of Easter at the Marchioness of Prunai's
+house. It was then within three days of Easter. I could scarce any way
+get myself to be understood. By the force of entreaty, they brought me
+at length a sorry coach with lame mules, and told me that they would
+take me readily to Verceil, which was only two days journey, but
+demanded an enormous sum. They would not engage to take me to the
+Marchioness of Prunai's house, as they knew not where her estate lay.
+This was to me a strong mortification; for I was very willing to go to
+Verceil; nevertheless the proximity of Easter; and want of money, in a
+country where they used every kind of extortion and tyranny, left me no
+choice. I was under an absolute necessity of submitting to be thus
+conveyed to Verceil.
+
+Thus Providence led me whither I would not. Our muleteer was one of the
+most brutal men; and for an increase of my affliction, I had sent away
+to Verceil the ecclesiastic who accompanied us, to prevent their
+surprise at seeing me there, after I had protested against going. That
+ecclesiastic was very coarsely treated on the road, through the hatred
+they bore to the French. They made him go part of the way on foot, so
+that, though he set off the day before me, he arrived there only a few
+hours sooner than I did. As for the fellow who conducted us, seeing he
+had only women under his care, he treated us in the most insolent and
+boorish manner.
+
+We passed through a wood infested with robbers. The muleteer was
+afraid, and told us, that, if we met any of them on the road, we should
+be murdered. They spared nobody. Scarcely had he uttered these words,
+when there appeared four men well armed. They immediately stopped us!
+The man was exceedingly frightened. I made a light bow of my head, with
+a smile, for I had no fear, and was so entirely resigned to Providence,
+that it was all one to die this way or any other; in the sea, or by the
+hands of robbers. When the dangers were most manifest, then was my
+faith the strongest, as well as my intrepidity, being unable to wish
+for anything else than what should fall out, whether to be dashed
+against the rocks, drowned, or killed in any other way; everything in
+the will of God being equal to me. The people who used to convey or
+attend me said that they had never seen a courage like mine; for the
+most alarming dangers, and the time when death appeared the most
+certain, were those which seemed to please me the most. Was it not thy
+pleasure, O my God, which guarded me in every imminent danger, and held
+me back from rolling down the precipice, on the instant of sliding over
+its dizzy brow? The more easy I was about life, which I bore only
+because Thou wast pleased to bear it, the more care Thou tookest to
+preserve it. There seemed a mutual emulation between us, on my part to
+resign it, and on thine to maintain it. The robbers then advanced to
+the coach; but I had no sooner saluted them, than God made them change
+their design. Having pushed off one another, as it were, to hinder each
+of them from doing any harm; they respectfully saluted me, and, with an
+air of compassion, unusual to such sorts of persons, retired. I was
+immediately struck to the heart with a full and clear conviction that
+it was a stroke of Thy right hand, who had other designs over me than
+to suffer me to die by the hand of robbers. It is Thy sovereign power
+which takes away their all from Thy devoted lovers; and destroys their
+lives with all that is of self without pity or sparing anything.
+
+The muleteer, seeing me attended only with two young women, thought he
+might treat me as he would, perhaps expecting to draw money from me.
+Instead of taking me to the inn, he brought me to a mill, in which
+there was a woman. There was but one single room with several beds in
+it, in which the millers and muleteers lay together. In that chamber
+they forced me to stay. I told the muleteer I was not a person to lie
+in such a place and wanted to oblige him to take me to the inn. Nothing
+of it would he do. I was constrained to go out on foot, at ten o'clock
+at night, carrying a part of my clothes, and to go a good way more than
+a quarter of a league in the dark, in a strange place, not knowing the
+way, crossing one end of the wood infested with robbers, to endeavor to
+get to the inn. That fellow, seeing us go off from the place, where he
+had wanted to make me lodge, hooted after us in a very abusive manner.
+I bore my humiliation cheerfully, but not without feeling it. But the
+will of God and my resignation to it rendered everything easy to me. We
+were well received at the inn; and the good people there did the best
+in their power for our recovery from the fatigue we had undergone. They
+assured us the place we had left was very dangerous. Next morning we
+were obliged to return on foot to the carriage for that man would not
+bring it to us. On the contrary, he gave us a shower of fresh insults.
+To consummate his base behavior, he sold me to the post, whereby I was
+forced to go the rest of the way in a post-chaise instead of a
+carriage.
+
+In this equipage I arrived at Alexandria, a frontier town, subject to
+Spain, on the side of the Milanese. Our driver took us, according to
+their custom, to the posthouse. I was exceedingly astonished when I saw
+the landlady coming out not to receive him, but to oppose his entrance.
+She had heard there were women in the chaise, and taking us for a
+different sort of women from what we were, she protested against our
+coming in. On the other hand, the driver was determined to force his
+entrance in spite of her. Their dispute rose to such a height, that a
+great number of the officers of the garrison, with a mob, gathered at
+the noise, who were surprised at the odd humor of the woman in refusing
+to lodge us. With earnestness I entreated the post to take us to some
+other house, but he would not; so obstinately was he bent on carrying
+his point. He assured the landlady we were persons of honor and piety
+too; the marks whereof he had seen. At last, by force of pressing
+entreaties, he obliged her to come to see us. As soon as she had looked
+at us, she acted as the robbers had done; she relented at once and
+admitted us.
+
+No sooner had I alighted from the chaise, than she said, "Go shut
+yourselves up in that chamber hard by, and do not stir, that my son may
+not know you are here; as soon as he knows it he will kill you." She
+said it with so much force, as did also the servant maid, that, if
+death had not so many charms for me, I should have been ready to die
+with fear. The two poor girls with me were under frightful
+apprehensions. When any stirred, or came to open the door, they thought
+they were coming to kill them. In short they continued in a dreadful
+suspense, between life and death, till next day, when we learned that
+the young man had sworn to kill any woman who lodged at the house. A
+few days before, an event had fallen out, which had like to have ruined
+him; a woman of a bad life having there privately murdered a man in
+some esteem, that had cost the house a heavy fine; and he was afraid of
+any more such persons coming, not without reason.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 18
+
+
+After these adventures, and others which it would be tedious to recite,
+I arrived at Verceil. I went to the inn, where I was badly received. I
+sent for Father La Combe, who I thought had been already apprised of my
+coming, by the ecclesiastic whom I had sent before, and who would be of
+so much service to me. This ecclesiastic was only a little while
+arrived. How much better on the road should I have fared, if I had him
+with me! For in that country they look upon ladies, accompanied with
+ecclesiastics, with veneration, as persons of honor and piety. Father
+La Combe came in a strange fret at my arrival, God so permitting it. He
+said that every one would think I was come after him, and that would
+injure his reputation, which in that country was very high. I had no
+less pain to go. It was necessity only which had obliged me to submit
+to such a disagreeable task. The father received me with coolness, and
+in such a manner as let me sufficiently see his sentiments, and indeed
+redoubled my pain. I asked him if he required me to return, adding, if
+he did, "I would go off that moment however oppressed and spent, both
+with fatigues and fastings." He said that he did not know how the
+Bishop of Verceil would take my arrival, after he had given over all
+his expectations of it, and after I had so long, and so obstinately,
+refused the obliging offers he had made me; since which he no longer
+expressed any desire to see me.
+
+It seemed to me then as if I were rejected from the face of the earth,
+without being able to find any refuge, and as if all creatures were
+combined to crush me. I passed that night without sleep, not knowing
+what course I should be obliged to take, being persecuted by my
+enemies, and a subject of disgrace to my friends.
+
+When it was known at the inn, that I was one of Father La Combe's
+acquaintance, they treated me with greatest respect and kindness. They
+esteemed him as a saint. The father knew not how to tell the bishop of
+my arrival, and I felt his pain more than my own. As soon as that
+Prelate knew that I was arrived, he sent his niece, who took me in her
+coach, and carried me to her house. These things were only done out of
+ceremony; and the bishop, not having seen me yet, knew not what to
+think of a journey so very unexpected, after I had thrice refused,
+though he sent expresses on purpose to bring me to him. He was out of
+humor with me. Nevertheless, as he was informed that my design was not
+to stay at Verceil, but to go to the Marchioness of Prunai's house, he
+gave orders for me to be well treated. He could not see me till Easter
+Sunday was over. He officiated all the eve and all that day. After it
+was over, he came in a chaise to his niece's house to see me. Though he
+understood French hardly any better than I did Italian, he was very
+well satisfied with the conversation he had with me. He appeared to
+have as much favour for me as he had of indifference before.
+
+He conceived as strong a friendship for me as if I had been his sister;
+and his only pleasure, amid his continual occupations, was to come and
+pass half an hour with me in speaking of God. He wrote to the Bishop of
+Marseilles to thank him for having protected me in the persecutions
+there. He wrote to the Bishop of Grenoble; and he omitted nothing to
+manifest his regard for me. He now seemed to think alone of finding out
+means to detain me in his diocese. He would not hear of my going to see
+the Marchioness of Prunai. On the contrary, he wrote to her to come and
+settle with me in his diocese. He sent Father La Combe to her, on
+purpose to exhort her to come; assuring her that he would unite us all
+to make a congregation. The Marchioness entered into it readily, and so
+did her daughter. They would have come with Father La Combe, but the
+Marchioness was sick. The bishop was active and earnest in collecting
+and establishing a society of us, and found several pious persons and
+some very devout young ladies, who were all ready to come to join us.
+But it was not the will of God for fix me thus, but to crucify me yet
+more.
+
+The fatigue of traveling made me sick. The girl also whom I brought
+from Grenoble fell sick. Her relations, who were covetous took it in
+their heads that, if she should die in my service, I would get her to
+make a will in my favor. They were much mistaken. Far from desiring the
+property of others, I had given up my own. Her brother, full of this
+apprehension, came with all speed; the first thing he spoke to her
+about, although he found her recovered, was to make a will. That made a
+great noise in Verceil. He wanted her to return with him, but she
+refused. I advised her to do what her brother desired. He contracted a
+friendship with some of the officers of the garrison, to whom he told
+ridiculous stories, as that I wanted to use his sister badly. He
+pretended she was a person of quality. They gave out what I was still
+afraid of,--that I was come after Father La Combe. They even persecuted
+him on my account. The bishop was much troubled, but could not remedy
+it. The friendship he had for me increased every day; because, as he
+loved God, so he did all those whom he thought desired to love God. As
+he saw me so much indisposed, he came to see me with assiduity and
+charity, when at leisure from his occupations. He made me little
+presents of fruits and other things. His relations were jealous. They
+said that I was come to ruin him, and to carry off his money into
+France, which was farthest from my thoughts. The bishop patiently bore
+these affronts, hoping still to keep me in his diocese, when I should
+be recovered.
+
+Father La Combe was the bishop's prebend and his confessor. He esteemed
+him highly. God made use of him to convert several of the officers and
+soldiers, who, from being men of scandalous lives, became patterns of
+piety. In that place everything was mixed with crosses, but souls were
+gained to God. There were some of his friars, who, after his example,
+were advancing toward perfection. Though I neither understood their
+language nor they mine, the Lord made us understand each other in what
+concerned His service. The Rector of the Jesuits took his time, when
+Father La Combe was gone out of town, to prove me, as he said. He had
+studied theological matters, which I did not understand. He propounded
+several questions. The Lord inspired me to answer him in such a manner,
+that he went away both surprised and satisfied. He could not forbear
+speaking of it.
+
+The Barnabites of Paris, or rather Father de la Mothe took it in head
+to try to draw Father La Combe to go and preach at Paris. He wrote to
+the Father-general about it, because they had no one at Paris to
+support their house, that their church was deserted; that it was a pity
+to leave such a man as Father La Combe in a place where he only
+corrupted his language. It was necessary to make his fine talents
+appear at Paris, where he himself could not bear the burden of the
+house, if they did not give him an assistant of such qualifications and
+experience. Who would not have thought all this to be sincere? The
+Bishop of Verceil, who was very much a friend of Father-general, having
+advice thereof, opposed it, and answered that it would be doing him the
+greatest injury to take from him a man who was so exceedingly useful to
+him, and at a time when he had the greatest need of him.
+
+The Father-general of the Barnabites would not agree to the request of
+Father de la Mothe, for fear of offending the Bishop of Verceil. As to
+me, my indisposition increased. The air, which is there extremely bad,
+caused me a continual cough, with frequent returns of fever. I grew so
+much worse that it was thought I could not get over it. The Bishop was
+afflicted to see it, but, having consulted the physicians, they assured
+him that the air of the place was mortal to me, whereupon he said to
+me, "I had rather have you live, though distant from me, than see you
+die here." He gave up his design of establishing his congregation, for
+my friend would not settle there without me. The Genoese lady could not
+easily leave her own city, where she was respected. The Genoese
+besought her to set up there what the Bishop of Verceil had wanted her
+to set up. It was a congregation almost like that of Madame de
+Miramion. When the Bishop had first proposed this, however agreeable it
+appeared, I had a presentiment that it would not succeed, and that it
+was not what our Lord required of me, though I submissively yielded to
+the good proposal, were it only to acknowledge the many special favours
+of this prelate. I was assured that the Lord would know well how to
+prevent what He should now require of me. As this good prelate saw he
+must resign himself to let me go, he said to me, "You were willing to
+be in the diocese of Geneva, and there they persecuted and rejected
+you; I, who would gladly have you, cannot keep you." He wrote to Father
+La Mothe that I should go in the spring, as soon as the weather would
+permit. He was sorry to be obliged to let me go. Yet he still hoped to
+have kept Father La Combe, which probably might have been, had not the
+death of the Father-general given it another turn.
+
+Here it was that I wrote upon the Apocalypse, and that there was given
+me a greater certainty of all the persecutions of the most faithful
+servants of God. Here also I was strongly moved to write to Madame De
+Ch----. I did it with great simplicity; and what I wrote was like the
+first foundation of what the Lord required of her, having been pleased
+to make use of me to help to bring her into His ways, being one to whom
+I am much united, and by her to others.
+
+The Bishop of Verceil's friend, the Father-general of the Barnabites,
+departed this life. As soon as he was dead, Father La Mothe wrote to
+the Vicar-general who now held his place till another should be elected
+renewing his request to have Father La Combe as an assistant. The
+father, hearing that I was obliged on account of my indisposition to
+return into France, sent an order to Father La Combe to return to
+Paris, and to accompany me in my journey, as his doing that would
+exempt their house at Paris, already poor, from the expenses of so long
+a journey. Father La Combe, who did not penetrate the poison under this
+fair outside, consented thereto; knowing it was my custom to have some
+ecclesiastic with me in traveling. Father La Combe went off twelve days
+before me, in order to transact some business, and to wait for me at
+the passage over the mountains, as the place where I had most need of
+an escort. I set off in Lent, the weather then being fine. It was a
+sorrowful parting to the Bishop. I pitied him; he was so much affected
+at losing both Father La Combe and me. He caused me to be attended, at
+his own expense, as far as Turin, giving me a gentleman and one of his
+ecclesiastics to accompany me.
+
+As soon as the resolution was taken that Father La Combe should
+accompany me, Father La Mothe reported everywhere "that he had been
+obliged to do it, to make him return into France." He expatiated on the
+attachment I had for Father La Combe, pretending to pity me. Upon this
+everyone said that I ought to put myself under the direction of Father
+La Mothe. In the meantime he deceitfully palliated the malignity of his
+heart, writing letters full of esteem to Father La Combe, and some to
+me of tenderness, "desiring him to bring his dear sister, and to serve
+her in her infirmities, and in the hardships of so long a journey; that
+he should be sensibly obliged to him for his care;" with many other
+things of the like nature.
+
+I could not resolve to depart without going to see my good friend, the
+Marchioness of Prunai, notwithstanding the difficulty of the roads. I
+caused myself to be carried, it being scarcely possible to go otherwise
+on account of the mountains. She was extremely joyful at seeing me
+arrive. Nothing could be more cordial than what passed between us. It
+was then that she acknowledged that all I had told her had come to
+pass. A good ecclesiastic, who lives with her, told me the same. We
+made ointments and plasters together, and I gave her the secret of my
+remedies, I encouraged her, and so did Father La Combe, to establish an
+hospital in that place; which was done while we were there. I
+contributed my mite to it which has ever been blest to all the
+hospitals, which have ever been established in reliance on Providence.
+
+I believe I had forgotten to tell, that the Lord had made use of me to
+establish one near Grenoble, which subsists without any other fund than
+the supplies of Providence. My enemies made use of that afterward to
+slander me, saying that I had wasted my children's substance in
+establishing hospitals, though, far from spending any of their
+substance, I had even given them my own. All those hospitals have been
+established only on the fund of divine Providence, which is
+inexhaustible. But so it has been ordered for my good, that all our
+Lord has made me to do His glory has ever been turned into crosses for
+me.
+
+As soon as it was determined that I should come into France, the Lord
+made known to me, that it was to have greater crosses than I ever had.
+Father La Combe had the like sense. He encouraged me to resign myself
+to the divine will, and to become a victim offered freely to new
+sacrifices. He also wrote to me, "Will it not be a thing very glorious
+to God, if He should make us serve in that great city, for a spectacle
+to angels and to men?" I set off then with a spirit of sacrifice, to
+offer myself up to new kinds of punishments, if pleasing to my dear
+Lord. All along the road something within me repeated the very words of
+St. Paul, "I go bound in the Spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the
+things should befall me there, save that the Holy Ghost witnesseth,
+saying that bonds and afflictions abide me. But none of these things
+move me; neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might
+finish my course with joy." (Acts 20:22, 23, 24.) I could not forbear
+to testify it to my most intimate friends, who tried hard to prevail on
+me to stop, and not to proceed. They were all willing to contribute a
+share of what they had, for my settlement there, and to prevent my
+coming to Paris. But I found it my duty to hold on my way, and to
+sacrifice myself for Him who first sacrificed Himself for me.
+
+At Chamberry we saw Father La Mothe, who was going to the election of a
+Father-general. Though he affected an appearance of friendship, it was
+not difficult to discover that his thoughts were different from his
+words, and that he conceived dark designs against us. I speak not of
+his intentions, but to obey the command given me to omit nothing. I
+shall necessarily be obliged often to speak of him. I could wish with
+all my heart it were in my power to suppress what I have to say of him.
+If what he has done respected only myself, I would willingly bury all;
+but I think I owe it to the truth, and to the innocence of Father La
+Combe, so cruelly oppressed, and grievously crushed so long, by wicked
+calumnies, by an imprisonment of several years, which in all
+probability will last as long as life. Though Father La Mothe may
+appear heavily charged in what I say of him, I protest solemnly, and in
+the presence of God, that I pass over in silence many of his bad
+actions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 19
+
+
+Scarcely had I arrived at Paris, when I readily discovered the black
+designs entertained against both Father La Combe and me. Father La
+Mothe who conducted the whole tragedy, artfully dissembled, according
+to his custom; flattering me to my face, while he was aiming the
+keenest wounds behind my back. He and his confederates wanted, for
+their own interest, to persuade me to go to Montargis (my native
+place), hoping, thereby, to get the guardianship of my children, and to
+dispose of both my person and effects. All the persecutions from Father
+La Mothe and my family have been attended on their part with views of
+interest; those against Father La Combe have sprung from rage and
+revenge, because he, as my director, did not oblige me to do what they
+wanted; as well as out of jealousy. I might enter into a long detail on
+this, sufficient to convince all the world; but I suppress, to avoid
+prolixity. I shall only say, that they threatened to deprive me of what
+little I had reserved to myself. To this I only replied that I would
+not go to law, that if they were resolved to take from me little I have
+left (little indeed in comparison of what I had given up) I would
+surrender it entirely to them; being quite free and willing not only to
+be poor, but to be even in the very extremity of want in imitation of
+our Lord Jesus Christ.
+
+I arrived at Paris on Magdalene's eve, 1686, exactly five years after
+my departure from that city. After Father La Combe arrived, he was soon
+followed and much applauded. I perceived some jealously in Father La
+Mothe hereupon, but did not think that matters would be carried so far
+as they have been. The greater part of the Barnabites of Paris, and its
+neighborhood, joined against Father La Combe, induced from several
+causes that particularly related to their order. But all their
+calumnies and evil attempts were overthrown by the unaffected piety he
+manifested, and the good which multitudes reaped from his labors.
+
+I had deposited a little sum of money in his hands (with the consent of
+his superior) to serve for the entrance of a nun. I thought myself
+obliged in conscience to do it. She had, through my means, quitted the
+New Catholics. It was that young woman whom I mentioned before, whom
+the priest of Gex wanted to win over. As she is beautiful, though very
+prudent, there always continues a cause for fear, when such an one is
+exposed in the world. La Mothe wanted to have that money, and signified
+to La Combe that, if he did not make me give it to him for a wall,
+which he had to rebuild in his convent, he would make him suffer for
+it. But the latter, who is always upright, answered that he could not
+in conscience advise me to do anything else, but what I had already
+resolved, in favour of that young woman. Hence he and the provincial
+ardently longed to satisfy their desire of revenge. They employed all
+their thoughts on the means of effecting it.
+
+A very wicked man who was employed for that purpose, wrote defamatory
+libels, declaring that the propositions of Molinos, which had been
+current for two year past in France, were the sentiments of Father La
+Combe. These libels were spread about in the community. Father La Mothe
+and the provincial, acting as persons well affected to the church,
+carried them to the official, or judge of the ecclesiastical court, who
+joined in the dark design. They showed them to the Archbishop, saying,
+It was out of their zeal, and that they were exceedingly sorry that
+one of their fraternity was an heretic, and as such execrable. They
+also brought me in, but more moderately, saying Father La Combe was
+almost always at my house, which was false. I could scarcely see him at
+all except at the confessional, and then for a very short time. Several
+other things equally false they liberally gave out concerning both of
+us.
+
+They bethought themselves of one thing further likely to favor their
+scheme. They knew I had been at Marseilles, and thought they had a good
+foundation for a fresh calumny. They counterfeited a letter from a
+person at Marseilles (I heard it was from the Bishop) addressed to the
+Archbishop of Paris, or to his official, in which they wrote the most
+abominable scandal. Father La Mothe came to try to draw me into his
+snare, and to make me say, in the presence of the people whom he had
+brought, that I had been at Marseilles with Father La Combe. "There
+are," said he, "shocking accounts against you, sent by the Bishop of
+Marseilles. You have there fallen into great scandal with Father La
+Combe. There are good witnesses of it." I replied with a smile, "The
+calumny is well devised; but it would have been proper to know first
+whether Father La Combe had been at Marseilles, for I do not believe he
+was ever there in his life. While I was there, Father La Combe was
+laboring at Verceil." He was confounded and went off, saying, "There
+are witnesses of its being true." He went immediately to ask Father La
+Combe if he had not been at Marseilles. He assured him he never had
+been there. They were struck with disappointment. They then gave out
+that it was not Marseilles but Seisel. Now this Seisel is a place I
+have never been at, and there is no bishop there.
+
+Every imaginable device was used to terrify me by threats, forged
+letters, and by memorials drawn up against me, accusing me of teaching
+erroneous doctrines, and of living a bad life and urging me to flee the
+country to escape the consequences of exposure. Failing in all these,
+at length La Mothe took off the mask, and said to me in the church,
+before La Combe, "It is now, my sister, that you must think of fleeing,
+you are charged with crimes of a deep dye." I was not moved in the
+least, but replied with my usual tranquillity, "If I am guilty of such
+crimes I cannot be too severely punished; wherefore I will not flee or
+go out of the way. I have made an open profession of dedicating myself
+to God entirely. If I have done things offensive to Him, whom I would
+wish both to love, and to cause to be loved by the whole world, even at
+the expense of my life, I ought by my punishment to be made an example
+to the world; but if I am innocent, for me to flee is not the way for
+my innocence to be believed."
+
+Similar attempts were made to ruin Father La Combe. He was grossly
+misrepresented to the king, and an order procured for his arrest and
+imprisonment in the Bastile.
+
+Although on his trial he appeared quite innocent, and they could not
+find anything whereupon to ground a condemnation, yet they made the
+king believe he was a dangerous man in the article of religion. He was
+then shut up in a certain fortress of the Bastile for life; but as his
+enemies heard that the captain in that fortress esteemed him, and
+treated him kindly, they had him removed into a much worse place. God,
+who beholds everything, will reward every man according to his works. I
+know by an interior communication that he is very well content, and
+fully resigned to God.
+
+La Mothe now endeavored more than ever to induce me to flee, assuring
+me that, if I went to Montargis, I should be out of all trouble; but
+that if I did not, I should pay for it. He insisted on my taking
+himself for my director, to which I could not agree. He decried me
+wherever he went, and wrote to his brethren to do the same. They sent
+me very abusive letters, assuring me that, if I did not put myself
+under his direction, I was undone. I have the letters by me still. One
+father desired me in this case to make a virtue of necessity. Nay, some
+advised me to pretend to put myself under his direction, and to deceive
+him. I abhorred the thought of deceit. I bore everything with the
+greatest tranquillity, without taking any care to justify or defend
+myself, leaving it entirely to God to order as he should please about
+me. Herein he was graciously pleased to increase the peace of my soul,
+while every one seemed to cry against me, and to look on me as an
+infamous creature, except those few who knew me well by a near union of
+spirit. At church I heard people behind me exclaim against me, and even
+some priests say it was necessary to cast me out of the church. I left
+myself to God without reserve, being quite ready to endure the most
+rigorous pains and tortures, if such were His will.
+
+I never made any solicitation either for Father La Combe or myself,
+though charged with that among other things. Willing to owe everything
+to God, I have no dependence on any creature. I would not have it said
+that any but God had made Abraham rich. Gen. 14:23. To lose all for Him
+is my best gain; and to gain all without Him would be my worst loss.
+Although at this time so general an outcry was raised against me, God
+did not fail to make use of me to gain many souls to Himself. The more
+persecution raged against me the more children were given me, on whom
+the Lord conferred great favors through His handmaid.
+
+One must not judge of the servants of God by what their enemies say of
+them, nor by their being oppressed under calumnies without any
+resource. Jesus Christ expired under pangs. God uses the like conduct
+toward His dearest servants, to render them conformable to His Son, in
+whom He is always well pleased. But few place that conformity where it
+ought to be. It is not in voluntary pains or austerities, but in those
+which are suffered in a submission ever equal to the will of God, in a
+renunciation of our whole selves, to the end that God may be our all in
+all, conducting us according to His views, and not our own, which are
+generally opposite to His. All perfection consists in this entire
+conformity with Jesus Christ, not in shining things which men esteem.
+It will only be seen in eternity who are the true friends of God.
+Nothing pleases Him but Jesus Christ, and that which bears His mark or
+character.
+
+They were continually pressing me to flee, though the Archbishop had
+spoken to myself, and bidden me not to leave Paris. But they wanted to
+give the appearance of criminality both to me and to Father La Combe by
+my flight. They knew not how to make me fall into the hands of the
+official. If they accused me of crimes, it must be before other judges.
+Any other judge would have seen my innocence; the false witnesses would
+have run the risk of suffering for it. They continually spread stories
+of horrible crimes; but the official assured me that he had heard no
+mention of any. He was afraid lest I should retire out of his
+jurisdiction. They then made the king believe that I was an heretic,
+that I carried on a literary correspondence with Molinos (I, who never
+knew there was a Molinos in the world, till the Gazette had told me of
+it) that I had written a dangerous book; and that on those accounts it
+would be necessary to issue an order to put me in a convent, that they
+might examine me. I was a dangerous person, it would be proper for me
+to be locked up, to be allowed no commerce with any one; since I
+continually held assemblies, which was very false. To support this
+calumny my handwriting was counterfeited, and a letter was forged as
+from me, importing, that I had great designs, but feared that they
+would prove abortive, through the imprisonment of Father La Combe, for
+which reason I had left off holding assemblies at my house, being too
+closely watched; but that I would hold them at the houses of other
+persons. This forged letter they showed the king, and upon it an order
+was given for my imprisonment.
+
+This order would have been put in execution two months sooner than it
+was, had I not fallen very sick. I had inconceivable pains and a fever.
+Some thought that I had a gathering in my head. The pain I suffered for
+five weeks made me delirious. I had also a pain in my breast and a
+violent cough. Twice I received the holy sacrament, as I was thought to
+be expiring. One of my friends had acquainted Father La Mothe, (not
+knowing him to have had any hand in F. La Combe's imprisonment) that
+she had sent me a certificate from the inquisition in Father La Combe's
+favor, having heard that his own was lost. This answered a very good
+purpose; for they had made the king believe that he had run away from
+the inquisition; but this showed the contrary.
+
+Father La Mothe then came to me, when I was in excessive pain,
+counterfeiting all the affection and tenderness in his power, and
+telling me "that the affair of Father La Combe was going on very well,
+that he was just ready to come out of prison with honor, that he was
+very glad of it. If he had only this certificate, he would soon be
+delivered. Give me it then," said he, "and he will be immediately
+released." At first I made a difficulty of doing it. "What! said he,
+will you be the cause of ruining poor Father La Combe, having it in
+your power to save him, and cause us that affliction, for want of what
+you have in your hands." I yielded, ordering it to be brought and given
+him. But he suppressed it, and gave out that it was lost. It never
+could be got from him again. The Ambassador from the Court of Turin
+sent a messenger to me for this certificate, designing the proper use
+of it to serve Father La Combe. I referred him to Father La Mothe. The
+messenger went to him and asked him for it. He denied I had given it to
+him, saying, "Her brain is disordered which makes her imagine it." The
+man came back to me and told me his answer. The persons in my chamber
+bore witness that I had given it to him. Yet all signified nothing; it
+could not be got out of his hands; but on the contrary, he insulted me,
+and caused others also to do it, though I was so weak that I seemed to
+be at the very gates of death.
+
+They told me they only waited for my recovery to cast me into prison.
+He made his brethren believe that I had treated him ill. They wrote to
+me that it was for my crimes that I suffered and that I should put
+myself under the control of Father La Mothe, otherwise I should repent
+it; that I was mad and ought to be bound; and was a monster of pride,
+since I would not suffer myself to be conducted by Father La Mothe.
+Such was my daily feast in the extremity of my pain; deserted of my
+friends, and oppressed by my enemies; the former being ashamed of me,
+through the calumnies which were forged and industriously spread; the
+latter let loose to persecute me; under all which I kept silence,
+leaving myself to the Lord.
+
+There was not any kind of infamy, error, sorcery, or sacrilege, of
+which they did not accuse me. As soon as I was able to be carried to
+the church in a chair, I was told I must speak to the prebend. (It was
+a snare concerted between Father La Mothe and the Canon at whose house
+I lodged). I spoke to him with much simplicity and he approved of what
+I said. Yet, two days after they gave out that I had uttered many
+things, and accused many persons; and from hence they procured the
+banishment of sundry persons with whom they were displeased, persons
+whom I had never seen or of whom I never heard. They were men of honor.
+One of them was banished, because he said my little book is a good one.
+It is remarkable that they say nothing to those who prefixed their
+approbations, and that, far from condemning the book, it has been
+reprinted since I have been in prison, and advertisements of it have
+been posted up at the Archbishop's palace, and all over Paris. In
+regard to others, when they find faults in their books, they condemn
+the books and leave the person at liberty; but as for me, my book is
+approved, sold and spread, while I am kept a prisoner for it.
+
+The same day that those gentlemen were banished, I received a letter de
+cachet, or sealed order to repair to the Convent of the Visitation of
+St. Mary's, in a suburb of St. Antoine. I received it with a
+tranquillity which surprised the bearer exceedingly. He could not
+forbear expressing it, having seen the extreme sorrow of those who were
+only banished. He was so touched with it as to shed tears. And although
+his order was to carry me off directly, he was not afraid to trust me,
+but left me all the day, desiring me to repair to St. Mary's in the
+evening. On that day many of my friends came to see me, and found me
+very cheerful, which surprised such of them as knew my case. I could
+not stand, I was so weak, having the fever every night, it being only a
+fortnight since I was thought to be expiring. I imagined they would
+leave me my daughter and maid to serve me.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 20
+
+
+On January 29, 1688, I went to St. Mary's. There they let me know I
+must neither have my daughter nor a maid to serve me, but must be
+locked up alone in a chamber. Indeed it touched me to my heart when my
+daughter was taken from me. They would neither allow her to be in that
+house, nor anybody to bring me any news of her. I was then obliged to
+sacrifice my daughter, as if she were mine no longer. The people of the
+house were prepossessed with so frightful an account of me, that they
+looked at me with horror. For my jailer they singled out a nun, who,
+they thought, would treat me with the greatest rigor, and they were not
+mistaken therein.
+
+They asked me who was now my confessor. I named him; but he was seized
+with such a fright that he denied it; though I could have produced many
+persons who had seen me at his confessional. So then they said they had
+caught me in a lie; I was not to be trusted. My acquaintance then said
+they knew me not, and others were at liberty to invent stories, and say
+all manner of evil of me. The woman, appointed for my keeper, was
+gained over by my enemies, to torment me as an heretic, an enthusiast,
+one crackbrained and an hypocrite. God alone knows what she made me
+suffer. As she sought to surprise me in my words, I watched them, to be
+more exact in them; but I fared the worse for it. I made more slips and
+gave her more advantages over me thereby, beside the trouble in my own
+mind for it. I then left myself as I was, and resolved, though this
+woman would bring me to the scaffold, by the false reports she was
+continually carrying to the prioress, that I would simply resign myself
+to my lot; so I re-entered into my former condition.
+
+Monsieur Charon the Official, and a Doctor of Sorbonne, came four times
+to examine me. Our Lord did me the favor which He promised to His
+apostles, to make me answer much better than if I had studied. Luke
+21:14, 15. They said to me, if I had explained myself, as I now did, in
+the book entitled, Short and Easy Method of Prayer, I would not now
+have been here. My last examination was about a counterfeit letter,
+which they read and let me see. I told them the hand was no way like
+mine. They said it was only a copy; they had the original at home. I
+desired a sight of it, but could not obtain it. I told them I never
+wrote it, nor did I know the person to whom it was addressed; but they
+took scarcely any notice of what I said.
+
+After this letter was read, the official turned to me and said, "You
+see, madam, that after such a letter there was foundation enough for
+imprisoning you." "Yes, sir," said I, "if I had written it." I showed
+them its falsehoods and inconsistencies, but all in vain. I was left
+two months, and treated worse and worse, before either of them came
+again to see me. Till then I had always some hope that, seeing my
+innocence, they would do me justice; but now I saw that they did not
+want to find me innocent, but to make me appear guilty.
+
+The official alone came the next time, and told me, "I must speak no
+more of the false letter; that it was nothing." "How nothing," said I,
+"to counterfeit a person's writing, and to make one appear an enemy to
+the State!" He replied, "We will seek out the author of it." "The
+author," said I, "is no other than the Scrivener Gautier." He then
+demanded where the papers were which I wrote on the Scriptures. I told
+him, "I would give them up when I should be out of prison; but was not
+willing to tell with whom I had lodged them."
+
+About three or four days before Easter he came again, with the doctor,
+and a verbal process was drawn up against me for rebelling, in not
+giving up papers. Copies of my writings were then put into their hands;
+for I had not the originals. I know not where those who got them from
+me have put them; but I am firm in the faith that they will all be
+preserved, in spite of the storm. The prioress asked the official how
+my affair went. He said, very well, and that I should soon be
+discharged; this became the common talk; but I had a presentiment of
+the contrary.
+
+I had an inexpressible satisfaction and joy in suffering, and being a
+prisoner. The confinement of my body made me better relish the freedom
+of my mind. St. Joseph's day was to me a memorable day; for then my
+state had more of Heaven than of earth beyond what any expression can
+reach. This was followed, as it were, with a suspension of every favor
+then enjoyed, a dispensation of new sufferings. I was obliged to
+sacrifice myself anew, and to drink the very dregs of the bitter
+draught.
+
+I never had any resentment against my persecutors, though I well knew
+them, their spirit and their actions. Jesus Christ and the saints saw
+their persecutors, and at the same time saw that they could have no
+power except it were given them from above. John 19:11.
+
+Loving the strokes which God gives, one cannot hate the hand which He
+makes use of to strike with.
+
+A few days after, the official came, and told me he gave me the liberty
+of the cloister, that is, to go and come in the house. They were now
+very industrious in urging my daughter to consent to a marriage, which
+had it taken place, would have been her ruin. To succeed herein, they
+had placed her with a relation of the gentleman whom they wanted her to
+marry. All my confidence was in God, that He would not permit it to be
+accomplished, as the man had no tincture of Christianity, being
+abandoned both in his principles and morals.
+
+To induce me to give up my daughter they promised me an immediate
+release from prison and from every charge under which I labored. But if
+I refused, they threatened me with imprisonment for life and with death
+on the scaffold. In spite of all their promises and threatenings, I
+persistently refused.
+
+Soon after, the official and doctor came to tell the prioress I must be
+closely locked up. She represented to them that the chamber I was in,
+was small, having an opening to the light or air, only on one side,
+through which the sun shone all the day long, and being the month of
+July, it must soon cause my death. They paid no regard. She asked why I
+must be thus closely locked up. They said I had committed horrible
+things in her house, even within the last month, and had scandalized
+the nuns. She protested the contrary, and assured them the whole
+community had received great edification from me, and could not but
+admire my patience and moderation. But it was all in vain. The poor
+woman could not refrain from tears, at a statement so remote from the
+truth.
+
+They then sent for me, and told me I had done base things in the last
+month. I asked what things? They would not tell me. I said then that I
+would suffer as long and as much as it should please God; that this
+affair was begun on forgeries against me, and so continued. That God
+was witness of everything. The doctor told me, that to take God for a
+witness in such a thing was a crime. I replied nothing in the world
+could hinder me from having recourse to God. I was then shut up more
+closely than at first, until I was absolutely at the point of death,
+being thrown into a violent fever, and almost stifled with the
+closeness of the place, and not permitted to have any assistance.
+
+In the time of the ancient law, there were several of the Lord's
+martyrs who suffered for asserting and trusting in the one true God. In
+the primitive church of Christ the martyrs shed their blood, for
+maintaining the truth of Jesus Christ crucified. Now there are martyrs
+of the Holy Ghost, who suffer for their dependence on Him, for
+maintaining His reign in souls and for being victims of the Divine
+will.
+
+It is this Spirit which is to be poured out on all flesh, as saith the
+prophet Joel. The martyrs of Jesus Christ have been glorious martyrs,
+He having drunk up the confusion of that martyrdom; but the martyrs of
+the Holy Spirit are martyrs of reproach and ignominy. The Devil no more
+exercises his power against their faith or belief, but directly attacks
+the dominion of the Holy Spirit, opposing His celestial motion in
+souls, and discharging his hatred on the bodies of those whose minds he
+cannot hurt. Oh, Holy Spirit, a Spirit of love, let me ever be
+subjected to Thy will, and, as a leaf is moved before the wind, so let
+me be moved by Thy Divine breath. As the impetuous wind breaks all that
+resists it, so break thou all that opposes Thy empire.
+
+Although I have been obliged to describe the procedure of those who
+persecute me, I have not done it out of resentment, since I love them
+at my heart, and pray for them, leaving to God the care of defending
+me, and delivering me out of their hands, without making any movement
+of my own for it. I have apprehended and believed that God would have
+me write everything sincerely, that His name may be glorified; that the
+things done in secret against His servants should one day be published
+on the housetops; for the more they strive to conceal them from the
+eyes of men, the more will God in His own time make them all manifest.
+
+August 22, 1688, it was thought I was about coming out of prison, and
+everything seemed to tend toward it. But the Lord gave me a sense that,
+far from being willing to deliver me they were only laying new snares
+to ruin me more effectually, and to make Father La Mothe known to the
+king, and esteemed by him. On the day mentioned, which was my birthday,
+being forty years of age, I awaked under an impression of Jesus Christ
+in an agony, seeing the counsel of the Jews against Him. I knew that
+none but God could deliver me out of prison, and I was satisfied that
+He would do it one day by His own right hand, though ignorant of the
+manner, and leaving it wholly to Himself.
+
+In the order of Divine Providence my case was laid before Madame de
+Maintenon, who became deeply interested in the account given her of my
+sufferings, and at length procured my release. A few days afterward I
+had my first interview with the Abbe Fenelon.
+
+Coming out of St. Mary's I retired into the community of Mad. Miramion,
+where I kept my bed of a fever three months, and had an imposthume in
+my eye. Yet at this time I was accused of going continually out,
+holding suspected assemblies, together with other groundless
+falsehoods. In this house my daughter was married to Mons. L. Nicholas
+Fouquet, Count de Vaux. I removed to my daughter's house, and on
+account of her extreme youth, lived with her two years and an half.
+Even there my enemies were ever forging one thing after another against
+me, I then wanted to retire quite secretly, to the house of the
+Benedictines at Montargis, (my native place) but it was discovered, and
+both friends and enemies jointly prevented it.
+
+The family in which my daughter was married being of the number of Abbe
+Fenelon's friends, I had the opportunity of often seeing him at our
+house. We had some conversations on the subject of a spiritual life, in
+which he made several objections to my experiences therein. I answered
+them with my usual simplicity, which, as I found, gained upon him. As
+the affair of Molinos at that time made a great noise, the plainest
+things were distrusted, and the terms used by mystic writers exploded.
+But I so clearly expounded everything to him, and so fully solved all
+his objections, that no one more fully imbibed my sentiments than he;
+which has since laid the foundation of that persecution he has
+suffered. His answers to the Bishop of Meaux evidently show this to all
+who have read them.
+
+I now took a little private house, to follow the inclination I had for
+retirement; where I sometimes had the pleasure of seeing my family and
+a few particular friends. Certain young ladies of St. Cyr, having
+informed Mad. Maintenon, that they found in my conversation something
+which attracted them to God, she encouraged me to continue my
+instructions to them. By the fine change in some of them with whom
+before she had not been well pleased, she found she had no reason to
+repent of it. She then treated me with much respect; and for three
+years after, while this lasted, I received from her every mark of
+esteem and confidence. But that very thing afterward drew on me the
+most severe persecution. The free entrance I had into the house, and
+the confidence which some young ladies of the Court, distinguished for
+their rank and piety, placed in me, gave no small uneasines to the
+people who had persecuted me. The directors took umbrage at it, and
+under pretext of the troubles I had some years before, they engaged the
+Bishop of Chartres, Superior of St. Cyr, to present to Mad. Maintenon
+that, by my particular conduct, I troubled the order of the house; that
+the young women in it were so attached to me, and to what I said to
+them, that they no longer hearkened to their superiors. I then went no
+more to St. Cyr. I answered the young ladies who wrote to me, only by
+letters unsealed, which passed through the hands of Mad. Maintenon.
+
+Soon after I fell sick. The physicians, after trying in vain the usual
+method of cure, ordered me to repair to the waters of Bourbon. My
+servant had been induced to give me some poison. After taking it, I
+suffered such exquisite pains that, without speedy succor, I should
+have died in a few hours. The man immediately ran away, and I have
+never seen him since. When I was at Bourbon, the waters which I threw
+up burned like spirits of wine. I had no thought of being poisoned,
+till the physicians of Bourbon assured me of it. The waters had but
+little effect. I suffered from it for above seven years.
+
+God kept me in such a disposition of sacrifice, that I was quite
+resigned to suffer everything, and to receive from His hand all that
+might befall me, since for me to offer in any way to vindicate myself,
+would be only beating the air. When the Lord is willing to make any one
+suffer, He permits even the most virtuous people to be readily blinded
+toward them; and I may confess that the persecution of the wicked is
+but little, when compared with that of the servants of the church,
+deceived and animated with a zeal which they think right. Many of these
+were now, by the artifices made use of, greatly imposed on in regard to
+me. I was represented to them in an odious light, as a strange
+creature. Since, therefore, I must, O my Lord, be conformable to Thee,
+to please Thee; I set more value on my humiliation, and on seeing
+myself condemned of everybody, than if I saw myself on the summit of
+honor in the world. How often have I said, even in the bitterness of my
+heart, that I should be more afraid of one reproach of my conscience,
+than of the outcry and condemnation of all men!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 21
+
+
+At this time I had my first acquaintance with the Bishop of Meaux. I
+was introduced by an intimate friend, the Duke of Chevreuse. I gave him
+the foregoing history of my life, and he confessed, that he had found
+therein such an unction as he had rarely done in other books, and that
+he had spent three days in reading it, with an impression of the
+presence of God on his mind all that time.
+
+I proposed to the bishop to examine all my writings, which he took four
+or five months to do, and then advanced all his objections; to which I
+gave answers. From his unacquaintance with the interior paths, I could
+not clear up all the difficulties which he found in them.
+
+He admitted that looking into the ecclesiastical histories for ages
+past, we may see that God has sometimes made use of laymen, and of
+women to instruct, edify, and help souls in their progress to
+perfection. I think one of the reasons of God's acting thus, is that
+glory may not be ascribed to any, but to Himself alone. For this
+purpose, He has chosen the weak things of this world, to confound such
+as are mighty. 1 Cor. 1:27.
+
+Jealous of the attributes which men pay to other men, which are due
+only to Himself, He has made a paradox of such persons, that He alone
+may have the glory of His own works. I pray God, with my whole heart,
+sooner to crush me utterly, with the most dreadful destruction, than to
+suffer me to take the least honor to myself, of anything which He has
+been pleased to do by me for the good of others. I am only a poor
+nothing. God is all-powerful. He delights to operate, and exercise His
+power by mere nothings.
+
+The first time that I wrote a history of myself, it was very short. In
+it I had particularized my faults and sins, and said little of the
+favors of God. I was ordered to burn it, to write another, and in it to
+omit nothing anyway remarkable that had befallen me. I did it. It is a
+crime to publish secrets of the King; but it is a good thing to declare
+the favors of the Lord our God, and to magnify His mercies.
+
+As the outcry against me became more violent, and Madame Maintenon was
+moved to declare against me, I sent to her through the Duke of
+Beauvilliers, requesting the appointment of proper persons to examine
+my life and doctrines, offering to retire into any prison until fully
+exculpated. My proposal was rejected. In the meantime, one of my most
+intimate friends and supporters, Mons. Fouquet, was called away by
+death. I felt his loss very deeply, but rejoiced in his felicity. He
+was a true servant of God.
+
+Determined to retire out of the way of giving offense to any, I wrote
+to some of my friends, and bade them a last farewell; not knowing
+whether I were to be carried off by the indisposition which I then had,
+which had been a constant fever for forty days past, or to recover from
+it.
+
+Referring to the Countess of G. and the Duchess of M., I wrote, "When
+these ladies and others were in the vanities of the world, when they
+patched and painted, and some of them were in the way to ruin their
+families by gaming and profusion of expense in dress, nobody arose to
+say anything against it; they were quietly suffered to do it. But when
+they have broken off from all this, then they cry out against me, as if
+I had ruined them. Had I drawn them from piety into luxury, they would
+not make such an outcry. The Duchess of M. at her giving herself up to
+God, thought herself obliged to quit the court, which was to her like a
+dangerous rock, in order to bestow her time on the education of her
+children and the care of her family, which, till then, she had
+neglected. I beseech you, therefore, to gather all the memorials you
+can against me; if I am found guilty of the things they accuse me of, I
+ought to be punished more than any other, since God has brought me to
+know Him and love Him, and I am well assured that there is no communion
+between Christ and Belial."
+
+I sent them my two little printed books, with my commentaries on the
+Holy Scriptures. I also, by their order, wrote a work to facilitate
+their examination, and to spare them as much time and trouble as I
+could, which was to collect a great number of passages out of approved
+writers, which showed the conformity of my writings with those used by
+the holy penmen. I caused them to be transcribed by the quire, as I had
+written them, in order to send them to the three commissioners. I also,
+as occasion presented, cleared up the dubious and obscure places. I had
+written them at a time when the affairs of Molinos had not broken out,
+I used the less precaution in expressing my thoughts, not imagining
+that they would ever be turned into an evil sense. This work was
+entitled, 'THE JUSTIFICATIONS.' It was composed in fifty days, and
+appeared to be very sufficient to clear up the matter. But the Bishop
+of Meaux would never suffer it to be read.
+
+After all the examinations, and making nothing out against me, who
+would not have thought but they would have left me to rest in peace?
+Quite otherwise, the more my innocence appeared, the more did they, who
+had undertaken to render me criminal, put every spring in motion to
+effect it. I offered the Bishop of Meaux to go to spend some time in
+any community within his diocese, that he might be better acquainted
+with me. He proposed to me that of St. Mary de Meaux, which I accepted;
+but in going in the depth of winter I had like to have perished in the
+snow, being stopped four hours, the coach having entered into it, and
+being almost buried in it, in a deep hollow. I was taken out at the
+door with one maid. We sat upon the snow, resigned to the mercy of God,
+and expected nothing but death. I never had more tranquillity of mind,
+though chilled and soaked with the snow, which melted on us. Occasions
+like these are such as show whether we are perfectly resigned to God or
+not. This poor girl and I were easy in our minds, in a state of entire
+resignation, though sure of dying if we passed the night there, and
+seeing no likelihood of anyone coming to our succor. At length some
+waggoners came up, who with difficulty drew us through the snow.
+
+The bishop, when he heard of it, was astonished, and had no little
+self-complacency to think that I had thus risked my life to obey him so
+punctually. Yet afterward he denounced it as artifice and hypocrisy.
+
+There were times indeed when I found nature overcharged; but the love
+of God and His grace rendered sweet to me the very worst of bitters.
+His invisible hand supported me; else I had sunk under so many
+probations. Sometimes I said to myself, "All thy waves and thy billows
+are gone over me," (Psa. 42:7). "Thou hast bent thy bow and set me as a
+mark for the arrow; thou has caused all the arrows of thy quiver to
+enter into my reins" (Lam. 3:12, 13). It seemed to me as if everyone
+thought he was in the right to treat me ill, and rendered service to
+God in doing it. I then comprehended that it was the very manner in
+which Jesus Christ suffered. He was numbered with the transgressors,
+(Mark 15:28). He was condemned by the sovereign pontiff, chief priests,
+doctors of the law, and judges deputed by the Romans, who valued
+themselves on doing justice. Happy they who by suffering for the will
+of God under all the like circumstances, have so near a relation to the
+sufferings of Jesus Christ!
+
+For six weeks after my arrival at Meaux, I was in a continual fever,
+nor had I recovered from my indisposition, when I was waited on by the
+bishop, who would fain have compelled me to give it under my hand, that
+I did not believe the Word incarnate, (or Christ manifest in the
+flesh). I answered him, that "through the grace of God, I know how to
+suffer, even to death, but not how to sign such a falsehood." Several
+of the nuns who overheard this conversation, and perceiving the
+sentiments of the bishop, they joined with the Prioress, in giving a
+testimonial, not only of my good conduct, but of their belief in the
+soundness of my faith.
+
+The bishop some days after, brought me a confession of faith, and a
+request to submit my books to the church, that I may sign it, promising
+to give me a certificate, which he had prepared. On my delivering my
+submission signed, he, notwithstanding his promise, refused to give the
+certificate. Some time after, he endeavored to make me sign his
+pastoral letter, and acknowledge that I had fallen into those errors,
+which he there lays to my charge, and made many demands of me of the
+like absurd and unreasonable nature, threatening me with those
+persecutions I afterward endured, in case of non-compliance. However, I
+continued resolute in refusing to put my name to falsehoods. At length,
+after I had remained about six months at Meaux, he gave me the
+certificate. Finding Mad. Maintenon disapproved of the certificate he
+had granted, he wanted to give me another in place of it. My refusal to
+deliver up the first certificate enraged him, and as I understood they
+intended to push matters with the utmost violence, "I thought that
+although I were resigned to whatever might fall out, yet I ought to
+take prudent measures to avoid the threatening storm." Many places of
+retreat were offered me; but I was not free in my mind to accept of
+any, nor to embarrass anybody, nor involve in trouble my friends and my
+family, to whom they might attribute my escape. I took the resolution
+of continuing in Paris, of living there in some private place with my
+maids, who were trusty and sure, and to hide myself from the view of
+the world. I continued thus for five or six months. I passed the day
+alone in reading, in praying to God, and in working. But the December
+27, 1695, I was arrested, though exceedingly indisposed at that time,
+and conducted to Vincennes. I was three days in the custody of Mons.
+des Grez, who had arrested me; because the king would not consent to my
+being put into prison; saying several times over, that a convent was
+sufficient. They deceived him by still stronger calumnies. They painted
+me in his eyes, in colors so black, that they made him scruple his
+goodness and equity. He then consented to my being taken to Vincennes.
+
+I shall not speak of that long persecution, which has made so much
+noise, for a series of ten years imprisonments, in all sorts of
+prisons, and of a banishment almost as long, and not yet ended, through
+crosses, calumnies, and all imaginable sorts of sufferings. There are
+facts too odious on the part of divers persons, which charity induces
+me to cover.
+
+I have borne long and sore languishings, and oppressive and painful
+maladies without relief. I have been also inwardly under great
+desolations for several months, in such sort that I could only say
+these words, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!" All creatures
+seemed to be against me. I then put myself on the side of God, against
+myself.
+
+Perhaps some will be surprised at my refusing to give the details of
+the greatest and strongest crosses of my life, after I have related
+those which were less. I thought it proper to tell something of the
+crosses of my youth, to show the crucifying conduct which God held over
+me. I thought myself obliged to relate certain facts, to manifest their
+falsehood, the conduct of those by whom they had passed, and the
+authors of those persecutions of which I have been only the accidental
+object, as I was only persecuted, in order to involve therein persons
+of great merit; whom, being out of their reach by themselves, they,
+therefore, could not personally attack, but by confounding their
+affairs with mine. I thought I owed this to religion, piety, my
+friends, my family, and myself.
+
+While I was prisoner at Vincennes, and Monsieur De La Reine examined
+me, I passed my time in great peace, content to pass the rest of my
+life there, if such were the will of God. I sang songs of joy, which
+the maid who served me learned by heart, as fast as I made them. We
+together sang thy praises, O, my God! The stones of my prison looked in
+my eyes like rubies; I esteemed them more than all the gaudy
+brilliancies of a vain world. My heart was full of that joy which Thou
+givest to them who love Thee, in the midst of their greatest crosses.
+
+When things were carried to the greatest extremities, being then in the
+Bastile, I said, "O, my God, if thou art pleased to render me a new
+spectacle to men and angels, Thy holy will be done!"
+
+DECEMBER, 1709.
+
+
+Here she left off her narrative, though she lived a retired life above
+seven years after this date. What she had written being only done in
+obedience to the commands of her director. She died June 9, 1717, at
+Blois, in her seventieth year.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Autobiography of Madame Guyon, by 
+Jeanne Marie Bouvier de La Motte Guyon
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