Letter 148. To a Lady

Indeed, my dearest child, nothing can give us a more profound restfulness in this world than a stedfast gaze, fixed upon our Dear Lord in all His afflictions, from the cradle to the grave. What endless contempt, calumny, poverty, need, abjection, pain and sufferings, and every conceivable form of bitter trial, were heaped upon Him! — ^trials, in comparison of which we-must feel afraid to call the little contradictions and annoyances which trouble us,, by the name of trials. We shall be half afraid to talk of seeking patience under such trifling woes, which a very small portion of humility ought to make bearable.

I think I am thoroughly acquainted with the condition of your soul, and I seem to be looking at it now with all its little gusts of agitation, anxiety, and sadness; emotions which harass it because you have not as yet laid the foundations of the Cross and of abjection deeply enough within your will My dearest child, a heart which knows how duly to love and prize Jesus Christ Crucified will love His Death and His Pain, the scourge and the spitting, the mockery and shame, the hunger and thirst, which He bore; and if any passing share in all this is granted to such a heart, it will rejoice, and accept the portion lovingly. Well, then, try every day (not in meditation, but apart, — perhaps when you are out walking) to fix your thoughts upon our Dear Lord amid the pains which our Redemption cost Him, and bethink you how great the blessing of sharing in those pains must be; examine where and when you may receive this blessing; I mean the contradictions which cross your wishes, especially those wishes which seem to you altogether good and lawful, and then — ^your heart full of love for the Cross and Passion of our Lord — ciy out with S. Andrew, “ Oh, good Cross, Oh, dear Cross of my Saviour, when shall I be stretched upon thine armsT' Indeed, my dear child, we are much too sensitive and too ready to apply the word poverty to a condition in which we are not suffering either fix)m cold or hunger, or ignominy, but only firom some little discomfort, or it may be some hindrance or restriction as to our tastes. When we meet again, remind me to speak more at length to you concerning this fastidious delicacy to which you lean too much. If you would win true rest and peace, this must above all else be cured; — ^we must strive to give you that deep realisation of eternity which, once grasped, makes the trifles of this brief life a matter of almost total indiflerence... • • Farewell, ever yours, &c.

C8a8.] CLIIL