The Abbé Baunard has written the Life of the Apostle St. John. A large heart, a lively faith, and great talents are needed in order to write the life of a saint; and as the author of whom I speak has all these, his work must be admirable. The introduction appeared in the Annals: “It is a book of piety. I address it to Christians and to priests—the priesthood has no higher personification than this apostle; to virgins—John was a virgin; to mothers—he merited to be given as a son to the Mother of God; to the young—he was the youngest of the disciples; to the aged—this is the appellation he gives himself in his Epistles; to contemplative souls—he was on Thabor; to those in affliction—he was on Calvary; to all who desire to love their brethren in God—charity can have no fairer ideal than the friend of Jesus.”
Good-night, dearest; my eyes are closing.
April 18, 1869.
Dear Kate, a requiem! I have just been to pray by those two death-beds—for both are dead, piously and tranquilly; he asking my pardon for his fits of anger, and she praying for her children. I have promised to take charge of the latter; so behold me the mother of six children! René always approves. But we cannot abandon these dear young creatures to take their chance in this great town, and my mother advises that they should be sent into Brittany, where the Sisters will find them useful employment. I want your opinion,
dear Kate; they belong in some measure to you also, since it is to your pious lessons that I owe my love for the blessing of the poor.
Gertrude yesterday showed me a letter from a friend asking prayers: “My Uncle Amédée is dead from an attack of apoplexy. It is fearful to say and to think of. Was his soul ready? O these unforeseen strokes of death! how terrible they are. Extreme Unction was all that could be given him. My aunt was in a pitiable state, throwing herself upon the corpse, speaking to it, … finding it impossible to realize that death had come between her and her happiness, and that he whom she so loved will answer her no more! I have a feeling of trust that at the last moment a ray of mercy and love may have illuminated his soul. No, it is not possible that our God, always good, always a Father, will not open his heaven to these poor fathers of earth who have given up to him the best part of themselves, the soul of their soul—the child who should close their eyes!”
This departed father gave to God his only daughter—entered, like Hélène, into Carmel. How necessary is faith under trials such as these! The young wife who wrote these lines is the intimate friend of Hélène, and it was her marriage that I mentioned to you two years ago. Can it be? Two years ago already!
Long drive with René into the country.
Dear sister, let us love God!
April 26, 1869.