"Then," writes one who had been sorely tried, "I tell my griefs to God, as a child tells its troubles to its mother; and when I have told all I am comforted, and repeat with a lightened heart the prayer of S. Françoise de Chantal (who certainly suffered more than I), 'Thy will be done for ever and ever, O Lord, without if or but;' ... and then, for fear a murmur may arise in my heart, I return immediately to my work, and become absorbed in occupation."
X.
He who is never satisfied with anything, satisfies no one.
XI.
Are there many who try to be of some little help or comfort to the souls with whom they are brought in contact through life?
Poor souls, that, perhaps, have no longer strength or will to manifest the longing they experience, and who languish for want of help, without being aware that they are perishing. Oh, mingle sometimes with your earthly help the blessed Name of God; and if there remain one little spark of life in the soul, that Name will rekindle it, and carry comfort and resignation; even as air breathed into the mouth of any one apparently dead, rushes into the lungs, and revives the sufferer, if but one breath of life remains.
Souls! Souls! I yearn for Souls!—This is the cry of the Saviour; and for their sakes He died upon the Cross, and remains until eternity their Intercessor.
Souls! Souls! I must win Souls!—It is the cry of Satan; and to obtain them he scatters gold to tempt them, multiplies their pleasures and vanities, and gives the praise that only infatuates.