Chapter 1-12

IN whatever way my mother-in-law and my husband treated me, I answered only by my silence, which was not then difficult for me, because the great interior occupation and what I felt rendered me insensible to everything else. However, there were moments when you left me to myself, and then I could not keep back my tears, when that which they said to me was extra-violent. I rendered my mother- in-law and my husband the lowest services, in order to humiliate myself; anticipating those who were accustomed to do so at such hours. All this did not win them. As soon as they got vexed, either of them, although I was not aware of having given them any cause, nevertheless I asked their pardon, and even of that maid whom I have mentioned. I had much trouble to conquer myself on this point, because she thereby became more insolent, and thought herself justified as I humbled myself, reproaching me with things which should have made her blush and die of confusion. As she saw I no longer resisted her, and that, to conquer my temper (which sought to break out on all occasions, especially when I saw I was right and the others not), I gave way to her at once, and contradicted her in nothing, she took the opportunity to ill-treat me worse, and if I asked her pardon for offences she had committed against me, she got up, saying she well knew she was right. Her arrogance became so great that I would not have treated a footman, even the lowest, as she treated me. One day, as she was dressing me, and pulled me very rudely, and spoke insolently to me, I said to her, “It is not for my sake I wish to answer you, for God knows I am not troubled at what you do to me; but it is that you might behave so before persons who might be scandalized at it. Moreover, being your mistress, God is assuredly offended at what you do to me.” She quitted me on the moment, and went to my husband like one out of her mind, saying she wished to leave; that I had ill-treated her; that I hated her only because she took care of my husband in his attacks, which were continual; and that I did not wish her to render service to him. As my husband was very hasty, he at once took fire at her words. I finished dressing myself alone, since she had left me, and I dared not call another maid, for she would not allow anyone but herself to come near me. I suddenly saw my husband come to me like a lion. Up to this time, whatever outbursts he had had against me, they had not been so violent. I thought he was going to beat me. I awaited the blow with calmness. As he could not walk without a stick, he lifted against me the one he held. I thought he was going to kill me, and, keeping myself united to God, I saw this without trouble. He did not, however, strike me; for he had sufficient presence of mind to see this was unworthy of him; but he threw the stick at me with force. It fell in front of me without touching me. He then poured out abuse as if I had been a porter or the most infamous of creatures. I maintained a profound silence, keeping myself concentrated in God, in order to suffer all these things for his love. I did not know whence could arise such a rage, nor what he wanted of me. The maid who had caused this tragedy entered. When my husband saw her, his anger redoubled. I did not say the least thing, keeping close to my God, like a victim ready for all he might will or permit. Then, redoubling his fury, he made me understand that he wished me to ask her pardon, since I had offended her. Yet I had not done anything to this maid. I did it, and that quieted him. I went at once away to my beloved closet, and I was no sooner there than my divine Director made me leave it to go and look for this girl, and make her a present to reward her for the cross she had procured me. She was a little astonished, but her heart was too hard to let herself be won. I often acted in this way, when she caused me the greatest trouble, which was very often and almost continually. As she bad singular address with sick persons, and my husband was so always, and she was the only one who could touch him when he had the gout, he valued her. Moreover, she was so deceitful, that before him she affected an extraordinary respect for me; but when I was not with him, if I said a word to her, although with great gentleness, and she heard him coming, she cried with all her might that she was very unfortunate, and put on an afflicted air, so that, without informing himself of the truth, he got into a rage against me; and my mother-in-law did the same.

The violence that I practised on my natural character, which was hasty and proud, was so great, that it was all I could bear. It sometimes seemed that my entrails were being torn, and I often fell ill from it. When anyone came into my room, specially a man, I had given her an order to remain there. She sometimes spoke louder than I, in order to annoy me, and this made my friends hate her. If any unusual visitors came to see me, she hurled a thousand reproaches at me in their presence. If I held my tongue, she was still more offended, saying I despised her. My gentleness embittered her, and she made complaints of me to everybody. She defamed me, but my reputation was so well established in the mind of everybody, and in the country, as well owing to my external modesty and my devotion, as the great charities I bestowed, that nothing could then hurt me. Sometimes she ran into the street, crying, “Am I not indeed unfortunate to have such a mistress?” People crowded round her to know what I had done to her, and, being without an answer, she used to say I had not spoken to her for the whole day. They used to go away with a laugh, saying, “She has not, then, done you much harm!” I am surprised at the blindness of confessors, and the little truth there is in the accusations their penitents make to them of themselves, unless God puts them into his truth; for the confessor of this maid passed her off for a saint, and that, because being of the lower class, she assisted at his conference. He made her often communicate, yet she had all those faults and others I suppress, since they are nothing to my subject. That confessor told me also she was a saint, and I made no answer, forLove would not have me speak of my troubles, but that I should consecrate all to him by a profound silence.

My husband was vexed at my devotion, and it was insupportable to him. He said that loving you, O my God, so strongly, I could no more love him; for he did not understand the true conjugal love is that which you yourself form in the heart that loves you. It is true, O God, pure and holy, that you impressed on me from the commencement such a love forchastity that there was nothing in the world I would not have done to have it. I preached nothing else to him, although I endeavoured not to make myself disagreeable, and to gratify him in all he could require of me. You gave me then, O my God, a gift of chastity, so that I had not even an evil thought, and marriage was very burdensome to me. He sometimes said to me, “One clearly sees you never lose the presence of God.”

The world, which saw I had quitted it, tormented me and turned me into ridicule. I was its topic and the subject of its fables. It could not consent to a woman of hardly twenty years making so vigorous a war upon it. My mother-in-law took the side of the world, and blamed me because I did not do certain things that, at heart, she would have been very vexed had I done. My domestic crosses greatly increased, for the attraction I felt was so great I knew not what to do. When I went upstairs, I could not come down again; was I below, I could not go up. I concealed myself to withdraw from the sight of men, who could by no means understand the operations that took place in my soul. I was as if distracted, for I lived in such separation from all created things, that it seemed to me there were no longer creatures on the earth. My eyes closed in spite of me, and I remained as if without motion, because Love kept me shut up within, as in a strong place, without my being able (whatever pains I took) to distract myself from his presence. I was your captive. O my Divine Love, and you were my gaoler. I breathed and lived only through you and for you. I seemed to experience literally those words of St. Paul, “I live, yet not I, but Jesus Christ lives in me.” You were, O my God and my Love, the soul of my soul, and the life of my life. Your operations were so powerful, so sweet, and so concealed at the same time, that I could not explain them to myself. I felt myself burning within, with a continual fire, but a fire so peaceful, so tranquil, so divine, that it is inexplicable. This fire consumed gradually my imperfections, and that which was displeasing to my God. It seems to me it consumed, at the same time, all partitions, and placed me in a union of enjoyment which calmed all desires in me. I found in myself no desire except a secret inclination and a more intimate union.

We went into the country for some business. I concealed myself in a corner of a dry river-bed. Who could tell What you then did in my soul, O my God? You alone, who did it, knew it. I got up at four O’clock to pray, and I was insatiable therein. I went very far to the Mass, and the church was so situated the carriage could not get up to it. There was a mountain to descend and another to climb. All that cost me nothing. Such a desire I had to receive you, O my only Good! How eager were you on your part to give yourself to your petty creature, even to working visible miracles for the purpose! Those who saw me lead so different a life from worldly women, said that I was not prudent. When I wished to read, I was so taken with your love, O my God, that at the first word I found myself absorbed in you—the book fell from my hands. If I tried to force myself, I did not understand what I read, and my eyes closed of themselves. I could neither open them, nor open my mouth to speak. If people talked near me, I took in nothing of what was said. If I went into society, often I could not speak, I was so seized by the inner life; I always went with somebody, in order that it might not appear. It was attributed to stupidity, and sometimes they said, “But what is the meaning of this? People believe this lady has cleverness. None of it appears.” When I forced myself to speak, I could not, and I knew not what I said. I took work in order to conceal, under occupation, the inner state. When I was alone, the work used to fall from my hands, and I could do nothing but allow myself to be consumed by love. I tried to persuade a connection of my husband’s to use prayer. She thought me mad for depriving myself of all the diversions of the age, but our Lord has since opened her eyes to make her despise them; I would have liked to teach all the world to love God, and I thought it only depended on them to feel what I felt. God made use of this to gain him many souls.

That worthy Father of whom I have spoken, who served for my conversion, made me acquainted with the Mother Prioress of the Benedictines, Genevieve Granger, who was one of the greatest servants of God of her time. This great soul was very useful to me, as I shall tell in the sequel. My confessor, who before this time used to say to everybody I was a saint (although I was so full of frailties, and so far from the state in which you, O my God, by your mercy alone had subsequently placed me)—my confessor, seeing I had confidence in the Father I have mentioned, and that I was following a route unknown to him, declared openly against me, and, as I did not leave him for that, he gave me much trouble and caused me many crosses. The monks of his order persecuted me severely, because the monk who directed me belonged to a different order. They publicly preached of me as of a person deceived. It is this order which has caused me so many crosses, and stirred up so much persecution, as you shall see in the remainder of this narrative you exact from my obedience.

My husband and my mother-in-law, who, up to this, cared very little for this confessor, joined themselves with him, and wished me to give up prayer and the exercises of piety; but how, O my God, could I have given up prayer, of which I was not the mistress, and that you rather effected in me than I myself practised, and which it would have been impossible for me to hinder, as the more external circumstances occurred to distract me, the more powerfully did you besiege me within? When I was in society, you possessed me more powerfully. There took place in my heart a conversation very different from that which was going on outside. I could not hinder the presence of so great a Master appearing on my countenance. It was this which annoyed my husband, as he sometimes told me. I did what I could to prevent it appearing, but I could not succeed. I was so occupied within, that I knew not what I ate. I made a pretence of eating certain food that I did not take, and I did things so cleverly, it was not perceived. I had almost always absinthe and colocynth in my mouth. I learned to eat what I most hated. Love did not let me see anything or hear anything. Almost every day I took a scourging, and I often wore the iron girdle without its lessening the freshness of my face.

I had often serious illness. I had no consolation in life except in praying and in seeing the Mother of the Benedictines; but how dear those two consolations have cost me, especially the former, since it has been the source of all my crosses! But what am I saying, O my Love, estimating the cross as I do? Ought I not to say you have recompensed prayer by the cross, and the cross by prayer? O gifts inseparable in my heart! Since you have been given me, I have never been a moment without cross, nor, methinks, without prayer, although the loss I thought afterwards I had suffered of prayer has augmented my crosses to excess. However, when your eternal light arose in my soul, O Love, I have known the contrary, and that she had never been without prayer, as she had never been without cross.

My confessor at first laboured to prevent me from praying and seeing Mother Granger, and, as he had an understanding with my mother-in-law and my husband, the means they used was to watch me from morning to evening. I dared not leave the room of my mother-in-law or the bed of my husband. Sometimes I carried my work to the window, under pretence of seeing better, in order to console myself a little by some moments of quiet; but they came to watch me, to see if I was not praying instead of working. When my mother-in-law and husband were playing cards together, I kept myself turned towards the fire. They used to turn round to see if I was working or if I shut my eyes, and, if they perceived I shut them, they were in a temper for several hours. What was most strange is that when my husband went out, and that he had some days of health, he was not willing I should take the time of his absence for praying. He remarked my work, sometimes returned, and, if he knew I was in my closet, got into a temper. I used to say to him,  “But, Sir, when you are absent, what matters it to you what I do, so long as I am attentive to you when you are present?” This did not content him. He wished that in his absence I should not pray either. I do not think there is any torment equal to that of being strongly attracted, and unable to be alone. O my God, the contest they kept up with me, to hinder me from loving you, increased my love, and you yourself carried me away in an ineffable silence, when they hindered me from speaking to you. You united me so much the more powerfully to you, the more they tried to separate me.

I often played picquet with my husband, to please him, and I was then inwardly more attracted than if I had been in church. I could hardly contain the fire that devoured me, and if it had been less peaceable, I would have been unable to support it. It had all the warmth of love, but nothing of its impetuosity. The more ardent it was, the more peaceable it was. I could tell nothing of my prayer, owing to its simplicity. All I could tell of it is that it was continual as my love, and nothing interrupted it. On the contrary, the fire kindled itself with all that was done to extinguish it, and prayer nourished itself and increased from the fact that they deprived me of the time for using it. I loved without motive or reason for loving, for nothing passed through my head, but much in the inmost of myself. If I were asked why I loved God, whether it was owing to his mercy or his goodness, I knew not what was said to me. I knew that he was good, full of mercy. His perfections caused my pleasure, but I had no thought of myself for loving him. I loved him, and I burned with his fire because I loved him, and I loved him in such a way that I could love only him, but in loving him I had no motive save himself. All that was called interest, recompense, was painful to my heart. O my God, why cannot I make men comprehend the love with which you have possessed me from the commencement; and how remote it was from all interest! I thought neither of recompense, gift, nor favour, nor anything which concerned the lover; but the Beloved was the sole object that drew the heart in his complete totality. That love could not contemplate any perfection in detail. It was not drawn to contemplate its love, but it was as if swallowed up and absorbed in this love. All that they told it of way, of degree, of contemplation, of attributes, it ignored all that; it knew only to love and to suffer; all the rest was outside its province—it did not even comprehend it. O ignorance, more learned than all the learning of the doctors! since you taught me so well a Jesus Christ crucified, that I madly loved the cross, and that all that did not bear the character of cross and suffering failed to please me!

At the beginning, I was attracted with such force, that it seemed my head would come off to unite with my heart, and I found that insensibly my body bent itself without my being able to prevent it. I did not understand the cause, but I have since understood, that as everything passed into the will which is the sovereign of the powers, it drew them after it and reunited them in God, their divine centre and sovereign good, and as at the commencement these powers were not accustomed to be united, there was needed more violence to effect this reunion. For this reason it was more perceived. In the end, the coherence is so strong, it becomes quite natural. At that time, it was so strong that I would have wished to die, in order to be united inseparably and immediately to him, who attracted me with so much force. As everything passed into the Will, and my imagination, even the mind and intelligence, were absorbed in this union of enjoyment, I knew not what to say, having never read or heard anything of what I felt. I feared to lose my mind, for I must observe I knew nothing of the operation of God in souls. I had only read the “Philothea,” the “Imitation of Jesus Christ,” with Holy Scripture. But as to spiritual books on the inner life, I knew not what it meant. I had only read the “Spiritual Combat,” which says nothing of these things. I said to you, O my God, if you made the most sensual people feel what I feel, they would soon give up their false pleasures to enjoy so true a blessing.

Then all pleasures, the most valued, appeared to me so tasteless, that I could not understand how I had been able to amuse myself with them; so that since this time I have never been able to find any save with God, although I have been faithless enough to use all my efforts to find it elsewhere. I was not at all surprised that the martyrs gave their life for Jesus Christ. I deemed them so happy, I envied their good fortune, and it was martyrdom for me that I could not suffer martyrdom. For it is not possible to love the cross more than I loved it since then; at least, so it appeared to me, and my greatest suffering would have been to have had no suffering.

The esteem and love of crosses have continually increased; although afterwards I lost the sensible or perceived taste for the cross, I have never lost the esteem and love of the cross, any more than the cross has never left me. It has always been my faithful companion, changing and increasing according as my interior dispositions changed and increased. O good cross, delight of my heart, thou art that which has never left me since I gave myself up to my divine Master! I hope that thou wilt never abandon me. I declare I am in love with thee. I have lost inclination and appetite for all the rest; but as for thee, I perceive that the more profusely thou givest thyself to me, the more does my heart desire thee and love thee. I was then so greedy for the cross that I adopted every means to make myself feel affliction. But although I caused myself genuine pains, they appeared to me so trifling that it only served to reawaken my appetite for suffering, and to make me see that God alone can produce crosses suitable for satiating souls that are hungering for them. The more I used prayer in the way I have said, the more the love of the cross increased, and at the same time the reality of the cross, for they came pouring upon me from all quarters. The characteristic of this prayer is further to give a great faith. Mine was without bounds, as well as my confidence and abandonment to God, love of his will and of the orders of his providence over me. I was previously very timorous: afterwards I no longer feared anything. It is then one feels the effects of those words of the Gospel, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”