Letter 120. To a Cousin

My Dear Cousin,

You do well truly to realise how good God is to you, and to appreciate His Fatherly solicitude for you, now that you have no time for meditation, and yet find Him so frequently present within your heart, strengthening you with His Sacred Gifts. Be ever faithful to the Heavenly Bridegroom of your souk and you will find out more and more the thousandfold ways in which His I-ove for you takes shape.

Indeed, dear cousin, I am no ways surprised if, as

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God enables you to taste the sweetness of His Presence, you gradually grow more and more disgusted with the world. Doubtless, my child, nothing makes wormwood so bitter to us as having eaten honey; and when we have tasted heavenly delights it is scarcely possible that worldly pleasures should give us any satisfaction. Who can really weigh the Goodness, the Power, the Eternity of God, and then cling fondly to the miserable vanities of this life? Undoubtedly we must bear with and tolerate this world's vanities, but we must strive to fix our own affections on our Dear Lord's truth alone. I thank Him that through it He has led you to despise these earthly follies.

Alas! yes, dear cousin, poor Madame de Moiron is dead I We little thought how it would be last Lent. And we too shall die some day, we know not when. Ah, dear child, how happy we shall be if, when we come to die, our Gracious Lord is found dwelling in our heart. To that end we must strive ever to keep Him there, with many desires, resolutions, protestations, and holy exercises. A thousand times better is it to die with our Dear Lord than to live without Him. Let us live cheerfully and bravely in Him and for Him, and not shrink from death. I do not say let us not fear it at all, but let us not be greatly disturbed at the thought. If we have a share in our Lord's Death, our own will be blessed. And to that end let us think often of His

Death; let us cleave to His Cross and Passion. Yes, dearest child, when we watch our friends depart, let us weep gently for them, with a peaceful sorrow — ^free from impatience, and let us turn their departure into a quiet happy preparation for our own....

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