Our Blessed Father had the highest possible esteem for the virtue of
simplicity. Indeed, my sisters, you know what a prominent place he gives to
it in his letters, his Spiritual Conferences, and elsewhere. Whenever he
met with an example of it he rejoiced and openly expressed his delight. I
will here give you one instance which he told me, as it were exulting over
it. After having preached the Advent and Lent at Grenoble, he paid a visit
to La Grande Chartreuse, that centre of wonderful devotion and austerity,
the surroundings of which are so wild, solitary, and almost terrible in
their ruggedness, that St. Bernard called it _locus horroris et vastæ
solitudinis_.
At the time of his visit, the Prior General of the whole Order was Dom
Bruno d'Affringues, a native of St. Omer, a man of profound learning and of
still more profound humility and simplicity. I knew him well, and can bear
witness to the beauty of his character, which in its extreme sweetness and
simplicity had something in it not of this earth.
He received Blessed Francis on his arrival with his usual delightful
courtesy and sincerity. After having conducted him to a guest chamber
suited to his rank, and having talked with him on many lofty and sublime
subjects, he suddenly remembered that it was some feast day of the Order.
He therefore took leave of the Bishop, saying that he would gladly have
stayed with him much longer, but that he knew his honoured guest would
prefer obedience to everything else, and that he must retire to his cell
to prepare for Matins, it being the feast of one of their great Saints.
Our Saint approved highly of this exact observance of rule, and they
separated with mutual expressions of respect and regard.
On his way to his cell, however, the Prior was met by the Procurator of
the Monastery, who asked him where he was going and where he had left his
Lordship, the Bishop of Geneva. "I have left Him," the Prior answered, "in
his own chamber, and I took leave of him that I might go to our cell and
be ready to say Matins to-night in choir because of to-morrow's feast."
"Truly, Reverend Father," said the Procurator, "you are well up in the
ceremonies of the world indeed! Why, it is only a feast of our own Order!
Do we, out in this desert, have every day for our guests Prelates of such
distinction? Do you not know that God takes pleasure when for a sacrifice
to Him we offer hospitality and kindliness? You will always have leisure to
sing the praises of God; you will have plenty of other opportunities for
saying Matins; but who can entertain such a Prelate better than you? What
a disgrace to the house that you should leave him thus alone!" "My son,"
replied the Reverend Father, "I see that you are quite right and that I
have certainly done wrong." So saying he at once retraced his steps to
the Bishop of Geneva's apartment, and finding him, there said humbly: "My
Lord, on leaving you I met one of our brethren who told me that I had been
guilty of discourtesy in leaving you thus all alone; that I should have an
opportunity at another time of making up for my absence from Matins, but
that we do not every day have a Bishop of Geneva under our roof. I see that
he is in the right and I have come back at once to ask your pardon, and to
beg you to excuse my apparent rudeness, for I assure you truthfully that
_it was done in ignorance_."
Blessed Francis was enraptured with this straightforwardness, candour, and
simplicity, and told me that he was more delighted with it than if he had
seen the good Prior work a miracle.