By complaining, I do not mean the simple imparting of our troubles to others.
Complaint savors always of a little bad temper, and a slightly vindictive spirit.
The saints were never exacting.
Contented with their lot, they never desired anything that was withheld from them.
"I have asked," said a holy soul, "for something I thought needful; they have forgotten to answer me, or perhaps would not bestow it. Why need I be disquieted? If it were really necessary, God would quickly provide means to obtain it." How few could enter into this feeling; and yet it is but the echo of Christ's own words, "Your Father in Heaven knoweth that ye have need of all these things."
XXXVI.
Joy in life is like oil in a lamp. When the oil gets low the wick is consumed, emitting a black vapor, and sending forth only a lurid glow, which does not give light.
A life without joy passes away unprofitably, shedding around it only gloom and sorrow.