Perhaps you will say to me: “How can I be an apostle when I have in
myself only a wavering faith? I would enjoy being generous, but I
am obliged to beg from the generosity of others. Such advice is for
those rich souls who, precisely because they are rich, have no need of
advice. It is with this kind of fortune as it is with money, it crowns
those who already possess it! My soul is poor and timid; what sort of
comfort would it be for other souls that are poor and timid also?”
O my friend, how deceived you are in yourself! How much like
ingratitude your modesty seems! First of all, let me tell you that
the heart that doubts its resources is rich without knowing it. The
passion of humility weighs it down; let it free itself without
becoming proud! In the realm of the intelligence, you have surely
observed, it is only actual imbeciles who never doubt their faculties.
The man who can admit his own insufficiency at once gives proof of a
rare perspicacity. In the same way, if you think you are poor it is
because you are not. The only natures that are truly arid are those who
do not recognize and never will recognize their own sterility.
This morning you went out at dawn to take up your duties. In the marsh
that slumbers along the edge of the road there were such delicate green
and purple reflections that you were struck by them. You spoke to me
about them, very subtly and sensitively, as soon as you were able to
see me. You were generous with me. You shared your good fortune with
me. Thank you!
Who spoke to me about Faisne’s unhappiness? Who suddenly opened my eyes
and made me realize the profound misery of that soul? It was you! I
am still touched by your affectionate insight, I still marvel at your
fortune.
You remember that night when we were lying stretched out together in
the fields, looking up at a sky that was rippling with milky light.
You said nothing to me, but I understood that evening that you were
possessed, to the point of intoxication, with an immense, terrible
idea, that of infinity. Thanks to your silence, I shared with you that
overwhelming treasure.
Who lent me that beautiful Swedish book I did not know? Who spoke to me
so enthusiastically about it? It was you, you again!
Who sings to me, when I am tired, that song as poignant and serene as
a breath that has come from beyond the midnight oceans? You know very
well, my friend, it is you.
I could tell you of a thousand instances of your generosity, a thousand
apostolic words that have issued from your lips.
Ah! my friend, can you disavow such riches? Can you show at the same
time such bitterness and such prodigality?
Every day you discover a means of transforming into happiness the
elements that others possess and neglect. Do not hesitate, therefore:
show them the fruitful use they ought to make of their blessings.
And do not ask any other recompense than the pleasure of having been
the giver, the initiator.
The total amount of joy that prevails on the face of our world is of
great importance to you and to me. One must always labor to augment it,
whoever the direct beneficiaries may be. There is no one who, in the
end, will not catch its echo, who will not receive his own personal
profit from it.
And that is also why, in the present immense misery of the world, the
selfish pleasure-seekers feel themselves ill at ease, even when their
untimely pleasures are seen by nobody.