Letter 1248. To M. Noél Brulart, Commander de Siilery

at Panis. [Annecy, 1633.]

Vive & Jésus |

My very dear Brother,—Your real advancement consists in a gentle, tranquil correspondence to the inspirations and attractions which God gives you, and so much have I this at heart that there is nothing I would not do or suffer to obtain it for you. I do not say this in order to make you more eager in the pursuit of perfection; on the contrary, God calls you to mortify your ardour by gently calming all the desires you feel, and by confining them to a simple acquiescence, without eagerness, in willing and doing solely because God so wills. In like manner, when you omit to do some good thing or commit some fault, lovingly accept the divine permission in it, resigning yourself even to your inability to give that full and generous resignation that you wish to be able to give and that you think God asks of you.

I do not know if I make myself clearly understood, but I mean to say that in all your good actions you should unite yourself to the will of God’s good pleasure which has willed them, and in all your faults and imperfections you should unite yourself to the permissive will of God, and this with peace, sweetness, and repose of spirit. ‘ Let us,’ said our Blessed Father, ‘do faithfully all the good we can, and when we are unfaithful, let us make up for this infidelity by humility; but let it be a sweet and tranquil humility.’

You know this better than I, my dear brother, and I know you do it, but we must be always doing it more perfectly. Renounce these desires of your own advancement and perfection: hand them over with no reserves into God’s keeping, leaving the care of them to Him, and limit your wishes to the measure of perfection He desires to give you. Get rid absolutely, I beg of you, of all these wishes, for they will only cause you anxiety and disquietude—besides which self-love imperceptibly mixes itself up with them. Have one sole, pure, simple, peaceful longing to please God, and then you will act, as you have already said, without impetuosity or eagerness, but with peace and suavity. Your chief care should be to get this control over yourself; yet let not your solicitude be anxious, but tender and loving. Expect results solely through the grace of our good God, and with a boundless patience—trust that He will give them to you at the right time for His glory and for your good; nor wish to possess them sooner. His sweet goodness will be a thousand times more pleased to see you thus reposing in His care and surrendering yourself to His holy will than if you suffered torments of every description to acquire the perfection you so long for. Such, my true and dearest brother, are my poor thoughts and sentiments about you. Do not tell me any more that you are wicked and cowardly, for I have once had such an insight into your soul that I can but hold in great esteem what I see of God therein. I write somewhat hurriedly, though with earnest desire: for your good and your consolation are unspeakably dear to me. I own quite frankly that I have been somewhat upset at the loss of the little book; but indeed I am more so by the vexation it has caused you. Think no more about it than I now do, I beg of you. To comfort you I will tell you that I have the chief extracts that were written in it, and in our Blessed Father’s own handwriting. Indeed, if it does not give you too much trouble, I should like to have a copy of what you have taken from it, but, again, I beg of you not to worry any more about this loss.

You will readily believe me when I tell you that my desire to see you and our two dear monasteries of Paris, and above all their good Mothers, is no whit less than that which in your kindness you have to see me. But, to speak as to another self, I feel that God does not will me to make that journey again, but that He wants me for special service here, where there are numbers of good souls disposed to do great things in His service, if they are well trained. Besides, there are many necessary and useful things to see to, especially that of the expenses of Rome on behalf of our Bienheureux. ‘Shen the necessary decorations have to be prepared for the beatification, and we shall require many more here than the other monasteries will need. A couple of years will soon run by, and after that, if God gives me better health than I have at present, I feel sure that you, our good Archbishop and our houses will easily obtain our Bishop’s leave for me. He has a great respect for you. Then, please God, we shall fully discuss our means of union, for 1 do not think I am going to quit this miserable life so soon. But God alone knows. Now, my brother, the Mothers of Lyons, especially the Mother of Bellecour, assure me that they have never disguised from you the dislike they have always had to instituting Paris as a house of appeal for the French monasteries, [or] Lyons for one part of France and Nessy for the other. You understand what I am telling you. It is impossible for me to state all the reasons in this letter—I have already repeated myself many tines—for I have a headache. Let there be nothing, my true brother, on your part to provoke censure. Yet who would dare or think of censuring you, knowing the sincerity and straightforwardness of all your actions and the holy zeal which God has given you for the good of His little Congregation? I assure you, far from it, for of all the means of union proposed to us, none, to my mind, has been so agreeable and suitable or more to my liking than yours. If it can be put into practice as you intend, and in a spirit of perfect charity, it can but be beneficial. But when I reflect on the conditions of the human mind and look at all sides of the question, in the end I come back to the conclusion of our Bienheureux that it is best to leave all to the care of divine Providence, awaiting its fulfilment to show us God’s good pleasure; which, by His grace, we will follow step by step, and, meanwhile, I remain in peace.

Ah! my good and dear brother, how relieved I am by the incomparable charity with which you look after the health of the poor grande fille who is inexpressibly precious to us. You do not like me to speak of my deep gratitude for your more than paternal care, so I am silent, while praying Our Lord to bless these remedies. Since they meet with your approval, I have no anxiety about them.

Q

We shall not fail to let you see the Life that is being written of our Brenheureux before it goes to press.

Our good Archbishop [of Bourges] speaks of you with the greatest admiration. Your desire to bestow upon him your affection is deeply appreciated by him. Give it him, my dear brother, for it will do him good.

Verily I know not how this letter is put together! But your good, true heart knows mine and will take it all in good part, for you know my whole-hearted trust in you and my incomparable affection for you, my true brother, with whom I treat in uprightness and sincerity, for you are as precious to me as my own self.

Abide then altogether in the care of this heavenly Providence and place all your anxieties and your longings in the innermost recesses of its holy tabernacle. I remain, wholly yours, etc.