She was a native of Chartres, and honorably married. She had two
daughters, who were the objects of her happiness and most ardent
desires in this world till God was pleased, in mercy towards her,
to deprive her of them both by death. Her grief for this loss was
at first excessive, and by it she began to be sensible that her
attachment to them had degenerated into immoderate passion; though
she had not till then perceived the disorder of a fondness which had
much weakened in her breast the love of God, and the disposition
of perfect conformity to his holy will above all things and in all
things. A fear of offending God obliged her to overcome this grief,
and she confessed the divine mercy in the cure of her inordinate
affection which stood in need of so severe a remedy. However,
resolving to bid adieu to this transitory treacherous world, she,
with her husband’s consent, built herself a cell at Chartres, in
which she shut herself up, serving God in great austerity and
assiduous prayer. She had no other furniture than a mat strewed
on the floor on which she took her short repose, and she allowed
herself no other sustenance than coarse oat bread with water which
was brought her by a servant. She afterward removed to Tours, where
she continued the same manner of life in a cell which she built near
St. Martin’s. Many fervent women joining her, this cell grew into a
famous nunnery, which has been since changed into a collegiate church
of secular canons. St. Monegondes lived many years a model of perfect
sanctity, and died in 570. She is named in the Roman Martyrology.
* * * * *
The loss of dear friends is a sensible affliction, under which
something may be allowed to the tenderness of nature. Insensibility
is no part of virtue. The bowels of saints are always tender, and
far from that false apathy of which the stoics boasted. “I condemn
not grief for the death of a friend,” says St. Chrysostom,[15] “but
excess of grief. To mourn is a part of nature; but to mourn with
impatience is to injure your departed friend, to offend God, and
to hurt yourself. If you give thanks to God for his mercies and
benefits, you glorify him, honor the deceased, and procure great
advantages for yourself.” Motives of faith must silence the cries of
nature. “How absurd is it to call heaven much better than this earth,
and yet to mourn for those who depart thither in peace,” says the
same father in another place.[16]