The Little Flower and Jane Austen

I have slowly been re-reading the novel Persuasion. As I immerse myself once again in Jane Austen’s timeless tale, I keep thinking about the words of another wise woman: Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, whose feast day opens the lovely autumnal month of October. She says in her autobiography The Story of a Soul:

True Charity consists in bearing with all the defects of our neighbor, in not being surprised at his failings, and in being edified by his least virtues; Charity must not remain shut up in the depths of the heart, for no man lighteth a candle and putteth it under a bushel, but upon a candlestick, that it may shine to all that are in the house. (cf. Matthew 5:15). It seems to me that this candle represents the Charity which ought to enlighten and make joyful, not only those who are dearest to me, but all who are in the house.

The character of Anne Elliot reflects the above quote in Persuasion. Austen describes her leading lady as having “an elegance of mind and sweetness of character, which must have placed her high with any people of real understanding.”

As readers see throughout the course of the novel, Anne is always ready to help: kind and friendly is her nature—charitable to a T—and she puts people at ease.

Do you recall the episode of Louisa Musgrove’s terrible fall?

Observe how Anne assists:

Anne, attending with all the strength, and zeal, and thought, which instinct supplied, to Henrietta, still tried, at intervals, to suggest comfort to the others, tried to quiet Mary, to animate Charles, to assuage the feelings of Captain Wentworth. Both seemed to look to her for directions.

There are other moments, of course, where dear Anne’s character shines, but I will let you ponder those as you read or re-read.

But she is not the only Austen heroine who is a kindred spirit to the Little Flower.

The “little” saint recalls in Story of a Soul, “We often think we receive graces and are divinely illuminated by means of brilliant candles. But from whence comes their light? From prayers, perhaps, of some humble, hidden soul, whose inward shining is not apparent to human eyes.” 

This quote makes me think of the character of Elinor Dashwood (“She had an excellent heart;—her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them,” as Austen describes)and how she supports her sister Marianne throughout the course of Sense and Sensibility.

Elinor’s good heart is particularly exhibited in this pivotal scene:

Elinor could no longer witness this torrent of unresisted grief in silence. “Exert yourself, dear Marianne,” she cried, “if you would not kill yourself and all who love you. Think of your mother; think of her misery while you suffer: for her sake you must exert yourself.” “I cannot, I cannot,” cried Marianne; “leave me, leave me, if I distress you; leave me, hate me, forget me! but do not torture me so. Oh! how easy for those, who have no sorrow of their own to talk of exertion! Happy, happy Elinor, you cannot have an idea of what I suffer.” “Do you call me happy, Marianne? Ah! if you knew!—And can you believe me to be so, while I see you so wretched!”

This passage, as fans will recall, coincides with Elinor’s own heartache as she thinks her gentleman is lost to her forever. 

Elinor’s tenderness toward her sister, and her excellent heart, see her through to happiness in the end; and there is happiness for Marianne, too, as Austen’s readers well know.

These journeys of the heart, full of joy and sorrow, that hallmark Austen’s writing as well as the Little Flower’s quotes, appropriately underscore the feminine genius.

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Pope Saint John Paul II  wrote in 1997, “First of all, Thérèse is a woman, who, in approaching the Gospel, knew how to grasp its hidden wealth with that practicality and deep resonance of life and wisdom which belong to the feminine genius.” 

John Paul II also perceptively observed two years earlier that “women acknowledge the person, because they see persons with their hearts.” That is just what Austen’s protagonists do.

Speaking of hearts, Thérèse encourages us: “Let us love, since that is all our hearts were made for.” And she knew well Who love is: “Jesus Christ alone is singularly to be loved, who alone is found good and faithful above all friends” (Story of a Soul).

Returning to Miss Austen, the novelist’s prayers reveal a kinship to the Little Flower, too.

Ponder as you pray my favorite excerpts of the British writer’s heartfelt petitions:

Give us a thankful sense of the blessings in which we live, of the many comforts of our lot; that we may not deserve to lose them by discontent or indifference.

We bless Thee for every comfort of our past and present existence, for our health of body and mind and for every other source of happiness which Thou hast bountifully bestowed on us and with which we close this day, imploring their continuance from 

Thy Fatherly goodness, with a more grateful sense of them, than they have hitherto excited.

May the comforts of every day, be thankfully felt by us, may they prompt a willing obedience of Thy commandments and a benevolent spirit toward every fellow-creature.

Have mercy, O gracious Father, upon all that are now suffering from whatsoever cause, that are in any circumstance of danger or distress. Give them patience under every affliction, strengthen, comfort, and relieve them.

Incline us, O God, to think humbly ourselves, to be severe only in the examination of our own conduct, to consider our fellow-creatures with kindness, and to judge of all they say and do with that charity which we would desire from them ourselves.

We thank Thee with all our hearts for every gracious dispensation, for all the blessings that have attended to our lives, for every hour of safety, healthy, and peace, of domestic comfort and innocent enjoyment.

As we celebrate the Little Flower today, we can also recall the kindhearted leading ladies of Austen’s novels and Austen herself; these female examples, Saint and writer born almost 100 years apart, and fictional heroines, have much to teach us indeed.

Author Bio: Amy Smith is the associate editor of the National Catholic Register and the author of The Plans God Has for You: Hopeful Lessons for Young Women. Amy spends her days drinking coffee while editing features; she likes to write about everything from hope and Saints (her favorites are Thérèse and Gianna) to Jane Austen—and she has talked about all of these topics on EWTN. You can find out more about her here.