into extravagant Opinions; and you will agree with me, that great fhould be the Disorder in Religious Communities, if every private Member was at liberty to follow his own Idea's, and to form for himself new Systems, especially in Matters of Religion. It is true, with that Frame and Difpofition of Mind no one can be happy amongst us; and either your Son must fuffer very much, or alter wholly his Temper. As I have no Admittance into the Affairs of the Societ, I have no Intereft nor Power in it, Nevertheless I writ to the F. Provincial, conformably to your Intentions, and I fhould be very glad to give you an Inftance of the Efteem with which I am, Sir, Tour, &c. DU TREVOU, I Letter of F. Germond to Me, My very dear Father, Heard on Thursday laft a Piece of News, which amazed and grieved me exceedingly. How is it poffible that, having fo much Piety as I always took you to be poffeffed of, you can be able to ask your Difmiffion from the Society without any scruple? Are the little Punishments, which have been put upon you, a good Reason for asking the Difpenfation of your Vows, and for being unfaithful to our Lord and Saviour? I am told that you have urterly renounced your firft Sentiments,* If fo, you ought to think that the Superiours have behaved themfelves juftly towards you. But I am told farther, that you have now efpoufed other Opinions, † which I look upon as very little lefs dangerous; and that the Fear you have of being haraffed again on that Account has induced you to ask your Difmiffion, My dear Father, when you made your Vows, you had read this Paffage of the Summary of the Conftitutions; Idem fapiamus, ---- idem dicamus omnes juxta Apoftulum. DoErine igitur differentes non admittantur. (Let us be of ONE Mind, and Speak the SAME Things, according to the Precept of the Apoftle. Therefore let not different Doctrines be admitted) By your entering into the Society, and tying your felf to it by your Vows, you have obliged your felf to the Practice of this Of the Modern Fhilofophy. *F. Hardouin's. F. Malebranche's The Statutes of the Order, Statute, Statute. Is the Difficulty you find in the fulfilling of it a good Reason for renouncing your Calling? And on the contrary, ought you not to offer Violence to your felf, in order to wean you of fuch Sentiments as ought certainly not to be TOLERATED* in our Society? Think of this in the Prefence of God, my dear Father; and perfwade your self, that if you embrace the † RECEIVED Opinions, you will be at an end of all your Troubles. You are univerfally esteemed and loved and you ought to make nothing of renouncing all manner of New Sentiments + in Matters which have any Affi nity with Religion. I pray God to enlighten you, and to fayour you fo much, as to direct you to acknowledge how unreasonable, and inconfiftent with Piety, is the Step you have taken. I fhall not cease to offer up my Prayers to God, till I have heard that you have more religious Thoughts, and more fuitable to your former Fervency in the Service of God. Forgive all thefe Advices from One who loves you dearly, and has a true Efteem for you. I am, in the Participation of your holy Sacrifices, Paris, this 28th May, 1707, My very dear Father, Letter of F. Malefcot, Confident of F. Tambourin. My Reverend Father, Rome the 21st of June, 1707. MY Brother * wrote to me --- that you have written hie what condition this bad Affair was in. I found that you had been already answered, and I had the Satisfaction of feeing the Letter which has been fent to you. It is very capable of engaging you to alter a Refolution, which Difcontent, or perhaps fome evil Counfel, may have brought you to. Give me leave to fpeak to you as a Friend.. You are my Brother's Friend, and mine on that very Account. Befides, I do juftice to your Merit, Do you think what you do, my dear Father, in refol *N. B. Those Gentlemen are against TOLERATION. Who preached at Le Fleche, and was my particular Friend. ving to leave us, &c? Muft you be hurried into fuch a Refoluti on by Discontent? Do you think that you are the less esteem'd both here and in France, for having been banished from Paris, and can this rob you of what is good and excellent in you? --F. Hardouin has given us long ago, in many Instances, an Example of an heroick Patience, and that is one of the Reafons for which I efteem him. Do you really think that you fhall never be able to blot out the bad Impreffions they have taken of you, and that you fhall be useless on that Account? Every Body efteems you, and does you Juftice. You have fome O pinions, which are not approved of here, and which you will diflike your self perhaps fome Years hence. When you fhall diveftem of that Air of Novelty which recommends 'em, you will find 'em empty, and by no means folid. I do not fay that there is in 'em any thing against FAITH; fuppofe them to be probable, is it not enough that they are UNCOMMON and NEW, to render 'em SUSPICI OUS? Let all that alone, and apply your good Understanding to the most folid Things. The Race of Sciences is for fpacious, One may make many fine Difcoveries, without all these new-fangled Opinions. As to what you are afraid of, being useless; Men of your worth can never be fo, unless they have a mind to it. Do you think that Ten Years hence any one will remember what is paft? Good God! how mistaken you are? It would be remembred indeed, fuppofing you fhould not give an opportunity of thinking better Things of you, by your Laboriousness, and by a wife and regular Conduct, fuch as I hear yours has been. Make an end of your Courfe of Divinity, apply your good Understanding to it, enable your felf to defend it publickly: You will do it with Applaufe, you will oblige F. Hardouin, you will please God, and filence Envy. What Grief to F. Hardouin will not your Departure caufe? and how much will he fuffer here for it? They will fay undoubtedly that he overturns the Heads of young Men of good Understanding ------ So that if you love him, and have any concern for his Reputation, if you love your felf as you ought, you must take another Course: Do it, I beseech you. What great Matter is it to us, what fome may have thought or faid? Ought our Calling and our Salvation depend on Men, whom Envy perhaps prompts to fpeak? Believe one of your good Friends, my dear Father, Write a refpectful Letter to the R. F. General. Speak to him as a Child, who is fenfible of his Fault. You are still of an Age liable to many, and which has a claim to Forgiveness; Lay Lay afide ALL the Notions and Opinions which are disliked. Go on in the BEATEN ROAD. You will be wanted, when you are well skilled in it. You will thus make your felf a worthy Son of Sanctus Ignatius; you will in so doing give F. Hardouin the greatest Token of that Gratitude, which you have till for all his Kindneffes to you. I need not tell you what Joy your Reverence will cause to all his Friends, and above all to me, who am, My R. F. Your, &c. MALESCOT. S. F. Letter of F. Martine, a Man of great Piety, who has been Profeffor of Divinity at Paris thefe Twenty Years. I My Reverend Father, Pax Chrifti. Paris, the 26th of June. Think my self very much obliged by the peculiar Kindness and Favour you fhew me, by the Letter you have done me the Honour to write to me, and by fuch an Answer, which must needs have coft you much Time and Labour. But it is that very Friendship you have for me, my dear Father, which increases the Defire I have of doing you a good Office, and gives me the Boldness of writing to you a fecond Letter. It will create you Uneafiness, but I think my self bound in Confcience to tell you once more my Thoughts, after having faid this Morning the holy Mafs, in order to obtain from our Lord and Saviour the Light of his holy Spirit for me and for you. I do not defign to neceffitate you to an Apology, no; do not look upon me as your Adverfary, I earnestly befeech you with Tears in my Eyes. But do me the Honour to hearken to me as one who esteems and honours you, and loves you tenderly. You feek for your Repose and for Peace, without which one cannot well ferve God. You are in the right of it, my very dear Father, but you have your Thoughts upon a Condition of Life in which you cannot prudently hope for the Enjoyment of it, but the contrary. For after all, will you be able to anfwer it to your felf if, after having been called by God into a Religious Profeffion, and having tied your felf by the Vow of Obedience in particular, you go on in asking a Difpenfation for it, rather than to put upon your felf fome Conftraint in order to curb your Judgment? Let your Deliberations about the Matter have been as many and as ferious as you please, it will not not be long before you repent. Soon or late your Conscience will tell you that it was wholly in your Power to have avoided Perfecution, which you are afraid of, and to have brought it quickly to an end, without renouncing your Calling. Notwithstanding all that is paft, every Body efteems you your Parts, your Piety, your Zeal, that natural Sweetness and Civility which is in you, has given to every Body a Sense of your Difgrace, and makes every one with ardently that all Things may be brought to an Accommodation. Time and good Behaviour will bury quickly the Remembrance of all that is paft. If fome Body has not used you well, do not Men alter their Temper, and are not those who have Worth in them forgiven with Pleafure? * But fuppofe, my very dear Father, that you fhould be perfe cuted even without Reason (which certainly will not happen, for can you believe that there is neither Charity nor Juftice in the Society ?) is it a fufficient Reason to you for asking a Difpenfation for your Religious Vows? Cannot one enjoy inward Peace in the midft of Perfecution? Since I think of your Affair, I have always in my Mind F. La Combiere's † Sentiment. You have read his Works, my dear Father. Such is the ardent Defire God Almighty infpires me with, of ferving him and keeping my Heart free, fays he, that a perpetual Imprisonment occafioned by a Calumny would feem to me an incomparable Blessing, and, I think, I fhould be never weary of it. All that you can poffibly fear, my very dear Father, is nothing like this. But further, can you hope to be more at quiet out of the Society? I am ftruck with Horror at the very thought or mention of your forfaking it. You are a Prieft now, and will you not exercife your Sacerdotal Functions? What Station foever you fhall be in, muft not you be fubject to Ecclefiaftical Powers, and preferve a good Understanding with the Clergy? And in cr der to this, muft not you conform to the Doctrine and Noti ons of the Bulk of good and pious Men? And what Credit will you have? What Good will you be able to do? You will be looked upon as a Man that thinks out of the common Way: it will be known that for that Reason you could not live in the Society. It will be a Blemish you will never be able to blot out, what Vertue foever and Honefty may appear in yout Behaviour. The only Means of getting a good Name (which * He means F. Le Tellier, the Confcllor of the late King. A very pious Mystical Writer. yos |