IV. But thou not only beginnest thy life by weeping, O thou God of my soul! thou continuest it in the same manner, and those tears are only to end by thy death on the cross. Thou wilt pass days and nights in prayer, with thy countenance bathed in tears, and the very ground where thou shalt pray will be watered therewith; thou feelest my evils, as if they were thy own, and thou beggest for me the blessings of heaven, as if they were necessary for thyself. Although thou shouldest never suffer any other pains, will not those tears, shed for bewailing evils which thou didst not commit, and those sighs thou sendest forth for meriting us the remedies which thou needest not, suffice to convince me of thy love, and to draw mine to thee? O inexhaustible fountain of mercy! why am I not melted in tears, and burning with the love of thee? Is it possible that I should let thee weep alone for the sins I have committed, without, mingling, at least, my tears with thine! O sweet and ardent tears, soften my heart, and make mine flow in abundance; that I may assist you in washing away my sins, and be inflamed with the love of my Saviour.

Since there was nothing in me, O eternal Wisdom! which could engage thee to succour me, but the necessity I was in of lamenting all my life; how great is my blindness to run after the pleasures of the world, without any sense of my misery? Enlighten, O divine Light! the darkness of my soul, and may I know and hate myself; separate my heart from the love of terrestrial goods, which separate me from thee; take from me the relish of all things, which hinder me from relishing thee, and which oblige thee to weep.

V. O infinite Goodness! always patient in bearing with me, and ever liberal in heaping thy blessings upon me! where should I have been if thou hadst not had pity on me? When I look back on my past life I find great occasion of fear and sorrow, not only on account of those evils which I have never wept for, but even of those which I have wept for with so much tepidity: for have I ever felt the loss of thy love, O my God! in as lively a manner as I have that of a temporal good or pleasure? I weep for a father, a brother, a relation a friend, who cannot deliver me from my evils, and whom I must necessarily lose sooner or later: I lose thee every day by my sins, O my sovereign Good! I deserve to be deprived of the eternal happiness for which I was created, and this loss concerns me not. If a man offend me, if he restore not to me what I think my due, or if anything happens to me against my will, I am disturbed thereby both interiorly and exteriorly. I am sensible of the loss of honour and reputation; I cannot bear, without an extreme difficulty, that another should be more esteemed than myself; I spend my life in diverting myself, and flattering my soul's enemy; that is, this material and corrupt body, which is the source of all my evils; if it wants any convenience or pleasure, I

am afflicted thereat: and what is still more deplorable, O my God! the time thou hast given me for meriti goods, in everything that may rob me of them for etern even so miserable, that I cannot suffer myself to be d the occasions of perishing, and losing thee at the same who art my only happiness.

I am weak against temptation, overcome in the lea lukewarm, without fervour, remiss in good, bold in ev light, without charity, without any desire of pleasing application to thy service, without a will to suffer for the interior peace, in fine, without any good, except it pro thee. But this is saying too little, I am without thee, life of my soul! I behold myself in the region of the death, and am unconcerned thereat, neither do I melt before thee. Art thou not, O divine Jesus! my tr brother, and friend, the companion of my pilgrimage, my my treasure, my glory, and my sovereign felicity? Wh I not ashamed to weep for temporal misfortunes, and to sible of the misfortune of losing thee? O tears of a price! supply the weakness of mine, and obtain me those which you merit.

Put an end to my misery, O Lord! and permit me not any longer in the blindness wherein I am. I have alre ficed a great part of my life to earthly cares; what I have r thereof is not too much for meriting heaven. May I least now to serve thee, O my God! I am touched with my sins, and I sincerely desire to weep for them with th it belongs to you, O powerful tears which open heaven also my eyes and make them flow. Wash away, O swe all the spots from my soul; kindle in me, O ardent tears of God, and the hatred of myself. O tears which pierce of the Eternal Father, pierce mine also; and since you sorts of blessings descend from heaven upon earth, ele earthly heart to heaven. When will the happy moment I shall feel in my soul the effect of those precious tears? beg for me, O divine Jesus! what I know not how to su hear them, for I deserve not to be heard, and grant me the which they beg for me.

VI. It is true that tears are commonly the effect o sadness; because sadness being nothing else but sorrow fo lost a good which was dear to us, we weep only for the of what we love; and when we recover that good, sadr also by tears. It is for this reason, that thy servants who seek thee, weep sometimes with sorrow for the evils whi rate them from thee, and sometimes with joy for the which thou communicatest to them; being unable to

without melting into tears, either the sweet impression of thy presence, or the regret of having displeased thee. But thou, O divine Jesus! what reason hast thou to weep? Is there any good thou hast not? Thou thyself are the sovereign good, thou possessest all the treasures of the wisdom and knowledge of God; and as nothing is wanting therein, so nothing can be added thereto: thus thy tears regard only men, and being rich with thy own goods, thou desirest none but for them. Thou wilt never be satisfied, O devouring fire! till thou hast transformed into thyself all those souls which thou hast created for thee. But art thou not infinite? Art thou not omnipotent ? Who then can hinder thee from consuming in me what is displeasing to thee, and from changing me wholly into thyself, that I may not displease thee.

VII. Let my tears be my food day and night, till I possess thee, O infinite goodnesss! grant that I may weep for the misfortune of having lost thee, and for the danger of losing thee: fortify me by thy presence, that my enemies may be dispersed. I feel myself touched with the desire of praying to thee, of loving thee, and of wiping off the tears shed for me; but there is something in me, which makes thee shed them, and which my blindness hinders me from knowing: thou, O Lord! who perfectly knowest me, and seest the bottom of my soul, heal in it those evils which afflict thee, and give me all those blessings which thou desirest for me. Oh! how well I now comprehend that it is better to go into a house of tears, than into one of joy; since the tears of this life produce the joy of the other! Thou hast been born here below, 0 my God! and died in tears; and it is thou who in heaven wipest off all the tears of the just, whilst those who in this world spend their days in pleasure fall in a moment into hell. I, therefore, choose rather a thousand times to go into the stable where thou weepest than into palaces where the powerful of the world rejoice. There is no pleasure on earth but what is mixed with sadness, and the purest joy that is tasted here, is to weep with thee. The just, who spend their life in tears, and sigh incessantly after thee, are filled with consolation; grant, O Lord! that I may be of that small number. O happy moment! wherein, whilst the body is bathed in tears, the soul tenderly embraces thee.

Embrace me, O divine Infant! that we may weep together, thou for the love of me, and I for the love of thee: thou wilt convert me, and I shall possess thee; thou wilt comfort thyself with me, and I shall comfort myself with thee. What sweetness dost thou give, and what blessings dost thou communicate to those who weep with thee: O how true it is, according to thy word, that those are happy who weep thus! Remove from me, O divine Jesus! all the vain joys of the earth, that I may sigh and weep in time, in order to have the consolation of possessing thee in eternity.

SIXTH SUFFERING OF CHRIST.-Coldness of the Season in which he was born.

Christ not only undertook to fight against sin, in order to merit for us the grace and glory which we had lost, but also to leave us examples of virtue, in which we might clearly discover both the evil that sin occasions us and the means of avoiding it. Therefore, he has particularly declared himself against those vices which are most predominant in the world, and of which the occasions are most frequent and dangerous: and has especially applied himself to the practice of contrary virtues, such as humility, patience, the shunning of pleasures, and of everything the world most esteems. But because the love of the body, and the care one takes of it, is one of those things wherewith men are most occupied, and which causes the greatest disorders; the Son of God at his birth, and through the whole course of his life, treated his body in such a manner, that those who have the desire and fortitude of dying to themselves, find in him continual examples of mortification; and those, who have not the courage to restrain themselves, discover at least how much they ought to fear a domestic enemy, that is able to make them lose eternal happiness.

One of the conveniences of the body, in which many employ the best part of life, is that provision of worldly goods, and a thousand means which they daily invent for defending themselves against the inclemencies of the weather, and change of seasons, by magnificent houses, commodious apartments, gardens, woods, waters, moveables, luxuries of the table, music, and an infinite number of other pleasures sought after with so much care. But as there is nothing to be expected from an enemy too well used, but treason and rebellion, the holy fathers, instructed by the divine Spirit, have invented, for preventing this disorder, that simple life which is led in monasteries, where, retrenching all luxury and superfluity, they content themselves with what is necessary, and have frequent occasions of mortifying the body and senses. Many have even retired into profound solitudes, where they deprived themselves of the necessaries of life; others spent their lives in continual fasting, exposed to heat, cold, and inclemency of weather; and they were all as diligent in refusing their bodies requisites, as worldlings are intent on procuring them superfluities.

II. Christ was pleased not only to be born naked like the other children of Adam, but also in a wretched stable, in the severest season of the year, at midnight, trembling with cold, and deprived of all manner of help. He did not change, in process of time, that seamless garment which his blessed mother had wrought him with her own hands, but wore it until his death. During his hidden life, he had not, in his humble dwelling, wherewith to defend him

self either against cold or heat; and when he began to converse with men, the ground was his ordinary bed: he was frequently exposed to rain, wind, and snow, to the heat of the sun, and to the dew of heaven; and after thus spending the day, he retired in the evening upon a mountain, or into a garden, there to spend the night in prayer; and notwithstanding he was the master and creator of times, he had distinguished the seasons for the profit of men, although foreseeing the inconvenience he was to receive one day from thence. Thus, in procuring a thousand pleasures by the earth's fertility, and that plenty of fruit, which the variety of the season produces, he prepared himself sufferings; for he partook of but little of the agreeable things of the season, yet felt all the rigours thereof.

III. Here the poor find great subject of instruction and comfort: for although deprived of a thousand things wherein the rich abound, often to the want of common necessaries, yet they learn by the example of our Saviour, that it is Christian prudence to make a virtue of necessity. St. Chrysostom affirms, that God esteems the dispositions of the heart, and the good will of men, above all things; and that he considers necessary sufferings no less than those, which are of our own choice, provided we join love and resignation to the necessity of suffering. The opinion of this father is founded on a very solid reason; for although we cannot avoid those evils, yet, by patient endurance of them, we can turn them to our soul's advantage. Thus God looks upon my acceptation of sufferings, as a service I do him, as a submission to his order, and as a fulfilling the good-will which he inspires me with.

If the poor had the spirit of God, they would esteem themselves happy for being in the same state which Christ was in, who being born amongst Jews, many of whom were both just and rich, preferred to their company, that of Mary, Joseph, and of the poor. What an advantage is it for all those that are so, to be able to unite their poverty to that of their Saviour, and render it meritorious by his? But if the virtue, which proceeds from necessity, is so precious in the sight of God, of what value will not that necessity be which comes from virtue? Certainly those voluntary poor, who fill the deserts and religious houses, deny themselves whatever is superfluous, and treat their bodies so severely, will find in Christ, not only the example, but also the strength of accomplishing what seems impossible to nature: for love, as St. Peter Chrysologus says, pleads no excuse concerning the difficulty of things-the more difficult they are, the more courage it has for undertaking them.

Hence it is, that some holy women, of whom Palladius speaks, after living a long time enclosed within four roofless walls, being asked how they had been able to bear so severe a prison, answered