CHAP. XIII.

HAD a secret desire given me from that time to be wholly devoted to the disposal of my GOD, let that be what it would. I said, "What "couldst thou demand of me, that I would not "willingly sacrifice or offer thee? Oh, spare me "not." The cross and humiliations were represented to my mind, in the most frightful coloursbut this deterred me not; I yielded myself up as a willing victim, and indeed our Lord seemed to accept of my sacrifice, for his divine providence furnished me incessantly with occasions and opportu nities for putting it to the test.

I could scarce hear GOD or our LORD JESUS CHRIST spoken of, without being almost transported out of myself. What surprised me the most was, the great difficulty I had to say the vocal prayers I had been used to repeat. As soon as I opened my lips to pronounce them, the love of GOD seized me so strongly, that I was swallowed up in a profound silence, and an inexpressible peace. I made fresh attempts but still in vain. I began, again and again but could not go on. And as I had never before heard of such a state, I knew not what to do. My inability still increased, because my love to GOD was still growing more strong, more violent and more overpowering. There was made in me, without the sound of words, a continual prayer, which seemed to me to be the prayer of our LORD JESUS CHRIST himself; a prayer of the Word, which is made by the Spirit, that according to St. PAUL, asketh for us that which is good, perfect,

N

and

and conformable to the Will of God. Rom. viii.

26. 27.

My domestick crosses continued-I was deprived of seeing or even writing to Mrs. Granger, my very going to divine service or the blessed sacrament, were a source of woeful offences, and the only amusement I had left me, was the visiting and attending the poor sick and sore, and performing the lowest offices for them.

BUT now my prayer-time began to be exceeding distressful, I compelled myself to continue at it, tho' deprived of all comfort and consolation, and yet when I was not employed therein, I felt an ardent desire and longing for it-I suffered inexpressible anguish in my mind, and endeavoured with the severest inflictions of corporal austerities to mitigate and divert it but in vain, the dryness and barrenness still increased, I found no more that enlivening vigour which had hitherto carried me on in the paths of virtue with great swiftness. My passions (which were not yet thoroughly mortified) revived, and caused me new conflicts. I seemed to myself to be like those young brides, who find a great deal of difficulty to lay aside their self-love, and follow their husbands to the war. relapsed into a vain complacency and fondness for myself. My propensity to pride and vanity, which seemed quite dead, while I was so filled with the love of GOD, now shewed itself again, and gave me severe exercise; which made me lament the exterior beauty of my person, and pray to GOD incessantly, that he would remove from me that obstacle, and make me ugly. I could even have wished to be deaf, blind and dumb, that nothing might divert me from my love of God.

I

I SET out on a journey, which we had then to make, and here I appeared more than ever like those lamps, which emit a new glimmering flash, when they are just on the point of extin guishing. Alas! how many snares were laid in my way! I met them at every step. I even committed infidelities through unwatchfulness. But, oh my God, with what rigour didst thou punish them! a useless glance was checked as a sin. How many tears did those inadvertent faults cost me which I fell into, through a weak compliance, and even against my will! Thou knowest, oh my Love, that thy rigour, exercised after my slips, was not the motive of those tears which I shed. With what pleasure would I have suffered the most rigorous severity to have been cured of my infidelity; and to what severe chastisement did I not condemn myself! Sometimes thou treated me like a father who pities the child, and caresses it after its involuntary faults. How often didst thou make me sensible of thy love towards me, notwithstanding my blemishes. It was the sweetness of this love after my falls which caused my greatest pain; for the more the amiableness of thy love was extended to me, the more inconsolable I was for having departed ever so little from thee. When I had let some inadvertence escape me, I found thee ready to receive me: And I have often cryed out, "Oh my God! is it "possible that thou canst be so gracious to such "an offender, and so indulgent to my faults; so "propitious to one who has wandered astray "from thee, by vain compliances, and an un"worthy fondness for frivolous objects? And yet "no sooner do I return, than I find thee wait"ing, with open arms ready to receive me after "all"

O SINNER,

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O SINNER, sinner! Hast thou any reason to complain of GOD? Ah, if there yet remains any justice in thee, confess the truth, and own that it is owing to thyself if thou goest wrong; that in departing from him thou disobeyest his call; and that, after all this, when thou returnest, he is ready to receive thee; and if thou returnest not, he makes use of the most engaging and prevalent motives to win thee thereto : Yet thou turnest a deaf ear to his voice; thou wilt not hear him. Thou sayest he speaks not to thee, though he calls loudly. It is therefore only because thou daily rebellest, and art growing daily more and more deaf to the voice of the charmer. Oh my love, I am sure thou didst never cease to speak to my heart, and wast always ready to succour me in the time of necessity.

WHEN I was at Paris, and the Clergy saw me so young, they appeared astonished. Those to whom I opened my state told me, "that I could "never enough thank GOD for the graces confer"red on me; that if I knew them I should be “amazed at them; and that if I were not faithful, "I should be the most ungrateful of all crea, "tures." Some declared that they never knew. any woman whom God held so closely, and in so great a purity of conscience. I believe what rendered it so was the continual care thou hadst over. me, oh my GoD, making me feel thy intimate presence, even as thou hast promised it to us in thy gospel." If a man love me, my Father will love

him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.” John xiv. 23. The continual experience of thy presence in me was what preserved me. I became deeply assured of what the prophet hath said, "Except the LORD keep the city, the watchman

waketh

"waketh but in vain." Psa. cxxvii. 1. Thou, oh my Love, wast my faithful keeper, who didst continually defend my heart against all sorts of enemies, preventing the least faults, or correcting them when vivacity had occasioned their being committed, But alas! my dear Love, when thou ceased to watch for me, or left me to myself, how weak was I, and how easily did my enemies prevail over me! Let others ascribe their victories to their own fidelity. As for me, I shall never attribute them to any thing else than thy paternal care over I have too often experienced, to my cost, what I should be without thee, to presume in the least on any cares of my own. It is to thee, and to thee only, that I owe every thing, oh my deliverer; and my being indebted to thee for it gives me infinite joy.

me.

WHILE I was at Paris, I relaxed in my usual exercises, on account of the little time I had, and the dryness and distress which had seized my heart, the hand which sustained me being hid, and my beloved withdrawn. I did many things which I should not; for I knew the extreme fondness which some had for me, and suffered them to express it without checking it as I ought. I fell into other faults too, as having my neck a little too bare, though not near so much as others had. I wept bitterly because I plainly saw I was too remiss; and that was my torment. I sought all about for him who had secretly inflamed my heart. I enquired for tidings of him. But alas! hardly any body knew him. I cryed, "Oh thou "best beloved of my soul! hadst thou been near 66 me these disasters had not befallen me. Tell "me where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon, in the bright day of eternity,