Letter 1851. To Mother Marie Aimée de Blonay

To Mother Marie Aimée de Blonay, Superior of the First Monastery of Annecy. [9 December, 164¹.] Vive > Jésus!

My dearest Mother, my true, unique, and beloved Daughter,—I am writing to you as we travel. These notes are the fruit of our journey, for truly, when I am in our houses, I have not time to breathe. We have left Paris, and great indeed was my consolation at the exactitude in observance and the virtue of our sisters of that house. They showed a wonderful love and desire to profit by our conversation. All was going well, but, please God, all will now go even better; and I tell you this, my Mother: it was expedient to make the journey, and I believe God willed it for a greater good than we can see. The other monasteries of Melun and Montargis congratulate themselves for being under the guidance of the Archbishop of Sens. All was satisfactory at Nevers. Our journey has already been of use, and will, I trust, continue to be so. I have had the favour of a special visit from his Grace of Sens both when going to and when returning from Paris. He came expressly to Sens to meet us. He is a grand and strong pillar of the

Church—which, in my opinion, has not seen the end of its persecution—for he is not a man to bend under the weight of contradictions, nor to yield in any point, ever so little, against Holy Church and his conscience.

Pray earnestly for the Church and for this good prelate. I have also seen the Bishop of Chalons, who desires to live wholly for God, yet with somewhat of splendour. M. Vincent is a saint, and there is no saying how unceasingly God pours His Spirit on him and on his children. Now, dearest Mother and true daughter, here we are safely arrived at Moulins on the 2nd of this month and in perfect health, after a sojourn of ten or twelve days at Nevers, which God permitted for the welfare and the consolation of those dear souls, who, since our first visit, have marvellously advanced; theirs is a virtuous community, and possesses a number of hopeful subjects. In fact, it seems to me, judging by the fruits already apparent, that God has blessed this journey in an altogether extraordinary manner. See how the sovereign Master does what He pleases by means of such a poor miserable little instrument as I am.

Our estimable M. Marcher, who knows all our private affairs, will tell you about them. It is wonderful what confidence, esteem, and affection all the monasteries have and manifest forhim. They admire his great discretion, wisdom, and reverence, and withal his frankness and zeal in saying what he considers necessary for the good of the Institute and of the houses that consult him. Indeed, each house wishes to have his like. Madame de Bouchage, whom you know, wants him to take her to Lyons, and we cannot refuse her this courtesy. I think his Lordship will be glad that he should go on to Nessy, so as to get fuller intelligence about us, and that he may do some of his work in church and with his little sheepfold. Helis very sorry to leave us, but it seems only reasonable. There is nothing here that cannot be easily done by another. You will send him back when you think right, but it will not, I think, be necessary during the winter. As to our return and the route you wish us to take, I leave all that to his Lordship and to you.

I have not found M. Pioton’s letter—I am sorry about it, for I wanted very much to know how they were going on at Fribourg. If good M. Pioton was not informed of the disposition of M. M.’s mind, it does not surprise me that he thought all going well. But, dearest daughter, can you pardon the liberty she took in opening the packets that the superiors write to me without making her see her fault? Will you allow M. Pioton in his gentleness to let that pass? I think it very important, for serious consequences may accrue. Do, Mother, gain if you can some influence over this mind, for she has good qualities; if she overcome her bad ones she will do a great deal of good.

Our Sister Superior of Lyons tells me also that you do not write to her. Alack! dearest Mother, I never meant to include the Superior at Lyons with her daughters when I begged of you to write only in reply to letters. Verily, this is not edifying. Write at once, I beg of you, on some cordial excuse to the Mother at Bellecour [Lyons]—such as your silence being caused by what I had said about not writing to the Bellecour sisters save in answer to them, and that you had thought I included her. In a word, dearest daughter, it is to God and the edification of our neighbour that we must look, and this we should always try to make the standard of duty, bearing with others gently when they do not do the same by us. The wrong is then theirs, and the practice of virtue ours. I speak out my thoughts to you as to my own soul, loving you as I love it. This you know, my true, dearest daughter. The satisfaction that you give our sisters is a great comfort to me. Oh, how I love that flock! I salute them tenderly. God bless them!

9g December.

Footnotes

1. Presumably the Chaplain at Annecy. ↩