LIFE OF ST. JANE FRANCES.* Wrrn the noble life of

Mother Margaret' still in our memory— fresh from inspecting the self-sacrificing labours of the sisters at the Hotel Dieu—and with a vivid remembrance of the faces of many of those little sisters of St. Vincent de Paul, who seem to carry with them an atmosphere of purity and peace, we sat down to the perusal of the ' Life' before us, written, as we cannot but perceive, with the double object of recording the life of a saint, and recommending the Order of which she, conjointly with St. Francis de Sales, was the founder.

It would be an easy task to turn the story before us into ridicule, but to our mind it suggests some grave thoughts. We have pre- sented to us, a system working such and such results, both system and result being held up for our unqualified approval. We will pass in rapid review a few of the main facts. We are supposed to have here the history of a remarkable woman, of whom the narrator says "she grew up to fill a great place not only in the world, but in the eternal kingdom of Heaven." She was the daughter of Bdnigne Fremyot, a man of noble Burgundian family, and when she was scarcely two years old she sustained an irreparable loss in the death of her mother. At a very early period the future saint showed her vocation. At five years old, walking up to a Calvinist gentleman engaged in disputing the doctrine of the Real Presence with her father, she said, "But, my lord, we must believe that Jesus Christ is in the Blessed Sacrament, because He said so Himself. If you do not believe it, you make Him a liar." Amused, probably, by the fierceness of his small opponent, the gentleman offered her some sugar-plums, which the child instantly threw into the fire, exclaiming, "Look, my lord, that is how heretics will be burnt in the fire of hell, because they do not believe what our Lord says." Strong language for a child of five! In 1592, after having for conscience' sake refused two or three brilliant offers, she married the Baron de Chantal, a man of whom we hear that, though under thirty years of age, he had fought eighteen duels. However, his conduct after marriage seems to have been highly exemplary ; but the happiness of the young couple was short-lived ; in loss than ten years De Chantal met his death by an accident, and his widow was left with four children to begin the career which was destined to become famous. Sorrow and religious enthusiasm for a time had complete dominion over her, and her time was spent in fast- ing, weeping, and worship,—we can scarcely say in prayer, since her mind at that time seems to have been almost incapable of any mental effort. Then succeeded the intense desire for a director "who might make known to her the fuller Divine Will," and in a vision she sees who this director is to be,—none other, in fact, than the famous Bishop of Geneva, Francis de Sales, who at the same moment, we are told, " rapt in ecstatic prayer, saw a young widow whose face was unknown to him, and as if a curtain had been updrawn, he seemed to see a new religious congregation arise, of which that young widow was to be mother and himself the guide and instructor." But the time for the realisation of these visions was not yet, and meanwhile the future saint could not live without a director, and found one in the person of Friar Minim, of whose direction the great Francis said afterwards that it was God who had guided her in her first direction, for it was good for her soul at the time. We know, at least, that he encouraged her in those austerities, bodily mortifications, discipline, and the like, which rendered the already depressed spirit singularly easy to guide. He made her bind herself to him by four vows,—the first, a simple vow of obedience ; the second, not to speak to others as to the details of his direction ; the third, never to leave him ; and the fourth, to speak to no one but himself of her interior state. It is true, these vows seem to have lain but lightly upon her, when the director seen in her vision once appeared ; but what of a system under which such vows are not only permitted, but commended P Granted, that the director uses his terrible power for what he conceives the highest good of the soul in his charge, we say deli- berately, we believe it would be impossible for a soul not to deterio- rate under such bondage, deteriorate the more the lees the bondage was felt. The ease with which Jane de Chantal broke these vows does not puzzle us much. In common with most highly-strung natures capable of largely influencing those around them, it was a necessity to her that she should be over-magnetised by a nature higher, or which she could believe to be higher, than her own ; and Francis de Sales was exactly the man to sway absolutely such a mind as hers. We are aware we are translating the religious sentiment of this book into very common prose, but the exaggeration of what to common-

• The Life of .51. Jane Franca Fremyet de Chantal. By Emily Bowles. London : Burns and Oates. 1872.

sense would seem to have been a very intense personal friend- ship into a miraculously-guided spiritual influence for the good of future generations, is somewhat offensive. The way, at all events, in which the Bishop " gauges the temper of her soul" has something about it which, in any one but Francis him- self, we think even Jane de Chantal would have found imperti- nent. The Bishop is beside her at dinner, and observes that her dress, which we have previously seen was at all times remarkably plain, was more fashionably made than usual. " Taking an opportunity when he could not be overheard, the Bishop said to her in a low voice, " Madame, should you like to marry again ?" " No, indeed, my lord !" she instantly replied. " Then you should pull down your flag," he said, smiling, but in such a way that she could not take offence. " On another occasion the Bishop saw some lace-edging on her chemisette, and once more he spoke,— 'Madame, if you wore no lace, would not your dress be equally white and clean ?' The lace was cut off that very evening by Jane's own hands, as well as some fancy tassels to her collar, which had also caught the Bishop's watchful eye." How complete her obedience became we find throughout these pages. Here is one little scene. Francis has summoned her once more to come to him at Annecy, and,

"Madame de Chantal was so faithfully obedient to the call that, having been delayed by business, she rode the whole way from Monthelon, travelling one night literally through 'thunder, lightning, hail, and rain,' though bound on no weird or unlawful errand. Francis rallied her a little when he heard the account of this stormy journey, and said that there had been no necessity for so rigid an interpretation of his words. It then wanted but a few days of Whit-Sunday, and during this prepara- tion for the solemn feast, Madame de Chantal was occupied in prayer and in giving a faithful account of her conscience to the Bishop. On Whit-Monday, after mass, Francis called her to him, and said with great earnestness, ' My child, I have quite decided what I will make of you.' Jane immediately knelt down before him and replied, And 1 am resolved to obey you, my lord and father.'—' That is well,' he said. ' You must enter the Poor Clares.'—' I am quite ready, father.'—' Still I think you are scarcely strong enough. You shall be a hospital sister at Beaune.'

As you please.'-.' No; is not what I wish. You shall be a Carmelite.'—' I am reay to obey.'—' No,' said Francis changing his voice and manner ; ' none of those vocations would suit you.' And then he went on to unfold to her at considerable length his idea of the Visita- tion institute."

Again, when years had passed, we find her kneeling on the ground, shedding bitter tears, as she confesses to the Bishop that in some one particular she has been tempted to disobey him, and he replies, " Daughter, this is your first disobedience to me : it has given me a very bad night." The spot in the orchard where this little scene took place is traditionally marked, and handed down in remembrance both of the lesson and the humble way in which it was received.

Now in reading this narrative, which, by the way, has a good deal of the religious novel in it, two or three questions will suggest themselves,—first, what was that "growth of soul" in St. Jane Frances which led up to her ultimate canonization, and the beginning of which is thus prefaced :—" It was about the year 1606 that her fervent and energetic mind began determinately to rebel against the monotonous course of her daily life" (we may not for- get that the life found so unendurably monotonous was spent in the guidance of her children, attention to the comforts of an aged father and father-in-law, and ministering to the sick and poor among her own tenants). However, "the usual ordinary Christian life, perfect as she might make it, seemed to her but a lame and halting progress compared with the wings for which she thirsted to cleave the higher air. In vain she reminded herself of her duties to her children, and devoted herself more earnestly to their education and culture ; she could not satisfy herself without opening her full mind to Francis de Sales, and expressing her increasing desire for a life of total sacrifice under vows." Now what was this higher life for which the claims of the sick and the needs of her own tenants were to be set aside, to which her children were unquestionably,—in our secular judgment,—sacrificed, and for which she did not hesitate to forsake her father-in-law and well- nigh break her own father's heart? What was that higher life ? We certainly get no glimpse of any following closer in the foot- steps of Him who " pleased not Himself." We get a great deal of somewhat wishy-washy emotional piety—take, for instance, this scene, some seven years after the death of Francis de Sales : —

"During the whole of this extraordinary scene, Mother de Chantal had remained on her knees, perfectly motionless, behind the nuns' grating, wrapt in prayer, and, as it seemed, in a kind of ecstasy ; but as soon as the populace had retired and there was perfect quiet, she returned again with the sisters to the church, and spent some hours in prayer before the body of the saint. The commissioners had forbidden it to be touched under pain of excommunication, and Mother de Chantal had therefore carefully abstained from her great desire to kiss one of the hands. The next day, however, having obtained leave, she was rewarded for her minute obedience by a distinctly supernatural sign. As she bent her head to touch the band of Frauds with her lips, his arm was lifted up and laid upon her bead with a gentle pressure, exactly as if he had been living, and not only did Mother de Chantal feel the act, but several of the Sisters who were present saw the movement of the hand and fingers as it was done. The veil which she than wore is still preserved as a relic possessing a twofold value."

We get an insight into a will utterly subjugated to another, but not a divine will. And we have for a result the institution of a new order of nuns, whereby women gently nurtured, not equal

to the usual amount of austerities required, yet anxious probably to escape, in the fancied calm or excitement of the religious life, .1 from the more irksome burden of their daily routine, might devote their lives in strict enclosure to piety and obedience. We do not pretend to penetrate what may or may not have contributed to the quickening of the spiritual life in any human soul, but of this we are sure, the record given here is of a life utterly ignoble and childish. Here we have a glimpse of an interior. It is Madame de Chantal's youngest child, who is to be educated by the sisters

Probably no little girl ever had greater advantages in that respect than Francoise now enjoyed. She was, in fact, surrounded with gover- nesses, all of them accomplished, cultivated, high-bred women, who devoted themselves by turns to her improvement, instructed her in the fullest and most attractive way, and in those branches of study in which each most excelled. We cannot be surprised, therefore, to find that Francois° became a thoroughly educated and accomplished woman, and that her character and talents were alike trained and developed in the highest degree. Nor were the lighter and more external advantages wanting; for Mother de Brdchard and Mother de Blonay had been the delight of the polished and intellectual society in which they had been distinguished, and therefore were well able to watch over the conversa- tion, carriage, and manners of their little charge. Her amusements were also well oared for, though we feel a little afraid of Mother de Brachard's strictness when we hear that she set free a caged sparrow and tame squirrel which had been given to Francois° as pets, because she saw that the Sisters were somewhat given to a waste of time and dissipating their minds in rather a frivolous way with these playthings. This very Mother Brdchard, however, was exceedingly skilful in dress- ing dolls, and she set up a whole company of marionettes, Angels, Archangels, and Saints, dressed in character, and fastened with horse- hair, so that they could be made to perform a kind of religious drama as the Court of Heaven, which Francis went to see. He was amused with the ingenuity of the device and the simplicity of the Sisters, but wisely decided that the play Paradise should be made over to Francois°, and that for the future dolls should be dressed in the convent for her use only."

Again, we have an account of a wasting sickness thus borne :— " Poor Marie de Chatal, Marie Peroune, had fallen more ill than any of the rest with a continual wasting fever ; but she was so wedded to the thought and habit of self-denial that she kept a bottle of fresh-water by her bedside, and sometimes was heard to

say, " 0 my God ! the power of Thy grace must be great, for though I am consumed with thirst I can abstain from drinking." By such sentences as these we learn " she was teaching the sisters some lessons from the school of Christ." That the ear might be duly mortified, the Office tones were allowed no beauty to recommend them, while each of the sisters had her hair shirt, chain, and discipline, " which they were sometimes allowed to make of brass." Francis de Sales clearly thinks the most minute details not beneath his fatherly care, and after directing that the

veils of the sisters should be of bombazine, takes the scissors and shapes them with his own hand. We repeat, the career begun by self-pleasing (for under the self-deceiving influence of a thin hysterical piety there lies the timid shrinking from the stern realities of life) is pursued with a gradual deterioration of the higher nature. It was Savonarola, we believe, who once said, " We only truly begin to live when we have renounced our own will in obedience to a divine law," If that law has one utterance more distinct than another, it is, " Be ye not called Rabbi, for one is your master, even Christ." Its fullest injunction, " Stand fast

in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free," we leave the saintliness of St. Jane Franc' de Chantal and her spiritual sisters to stand or fall by that teat: