first; thou stayest not for my beginning to serve thee, and meriting some favour from thee; thou makest no account of what thou shalt find in me: and because thou knowest thou shalt find no good in me proceeding from myself; thou furnishest me with everything from thyself, by exciting me to consent and co-operate in good for which thou givest me such powerful helps. Thou lovest me out of pure goodness, drawest me without violence, and only requirest me to receive thee and allow myself to co-operate with thy grace. Now if I were not deaf to thy voice; if I were at least the second in loving, since I cannot be the first; if I had docility enough to follow thee, since I have not strength to seek thee; if I permitted thee to act; if I would not set myself against what thou requirest of me, I should immediately be agreeable in thy sight.

On calling the wise-men, O divine light! by the brightness of a material star, thou at the same time imbued them with an interior motion to seek thee; and though hidden under the figure of an infant, wrapped in swaddling-clothes, and in a poor stable, enabled them to discover thee, and to adore thee as their Lord and God. It was there that they lost all earthly thoughts, elevated their desires, consecrated their love to thee, submitted their mind and liberty to thy law and service, and regarded thee as their treasure.

IV. What thanksgivings ought we not to render thee, O my God! for all the blessings bestowed on us, even when we are most unworthy of them, and think least of them? How often have I felt my soul awakened by thy light, and warmed with the fire of thy love? Then I approach thee, I find thee, but, alas! I afterwards lose thee. Sometimes I hold thee, embrace thee, yet thou escapest from me. Often when I think myself agreeable to thee, I dread I am rejected by thee; and in this continual change of interior dispositions, I take sometimes one road and sometimes another, that I may meet at last with that which leads to thee. But because I have but little light, I walk in darkness, and often go astray for want of knowing the way I ought to follow; I desire, and know not how to desire-I love, and neither know how to love, nor how to find what I love.

Thus my soul loses, by degrees, the hope it had in itself, without ceasing to hope in thee; and it knows by its own experience, that it desires much, and is unable to do anything. Thou seest its trouble, O Lord! and thou seemest not to take notice of it till that happy moment, when fatigued with so many vicissitudes, it falls at last into an entire diffidence of itself: then thou openest its eyes, and it begins to see the true way to peace and life. It discovers that you were nearer than it imagined, and how easy it was for it to have found thee; it sees, I know not how, but without any doubt, that you called it to thee and instructed it all at once, without voice or words; it thinks only on what possesses it, abandoning

the care of its body, and using it only with contempt and severity; it advances continually, and finally arrives at thee, without perceiving its motion. It then possesses thee, and still seeks thee; and the more it seeks thee, the less it comprehends thee. If thou commandest it to enter, it obeys; and if thou require it to depart, it forsakes thee not. It sees, without knowing what it sees; it hears, and it is ignorant of what it hears; it knows only who he is whom it hears; and because he whom it sees falls not under the senses, and he whom it hears speak to it without any voice, it contents itself with loving him, and it loves him continually more and more. Words cannot express, nor the mind comprehend what return love receives from thee, O my God! even in this place of banishment.

How happy is that moment, O divine Jesus! how pure is that light, how ineffable is that communication of thy blessings! Thou knowest, O Lord! how precious that gift is, and thy creature that receives it knows it also. Ah! if it were faithful, if it never departed from thee, if it knew how to preserve the grace it has received, how happy would it be! and yet this is but a drop of that infinite ocean of blessings which thou art one day to communicate to it.

V. O soul of my soul! what is my soul, and what good can it have, when it possesses not thee? O life of my life! what is my life, when I live not in thee? Is it possible that my heart is capable of possessing thee, of enjoying thee all alone, of extending and dilating itself as much as it pleases in thee, and that it can nevertheless be so full of miseries out of thee? Can thy creature elevate itself thus above itself, to repose in thy arms, and after that depart from thee, bury itself in the earth, and forget the blessings which thou communicatest to those that love thee? divine love! who canst and wilt impart the merits of thy suffering to all men, thou placest thyself in so many different states only to accommodate thyself to their different tastes; can one approach to thee without being inflamed? Who can hinder thee from doing what thou pleasest, or oppose what thou 'doest?

Fill every place therefore with stars, O Lord! if they are necessary to us for finding thee? Send thy angels throughout the world, if we stand in need of them for coming to thee; but, rather come thyself, O divine Jesus! into our earthly hearts; show thy light to our blind spirits, discover to our wandering souls the beauty of thy countenance; give vent to that fire with which thou art consumed, that its sparks may fly everywhere, and that we may be kindled therewith. Of what use is free-will to me, which thou hast given me, if I employ it not in loving thee? Ah? Lord, I know not what I ought to say to thee; but hear the voice of thy love and of my misery; live always in me, and let me live perpetually in thee and for thee, as I live only by thee.

VI. Unhappy is that sinful soul that has seen thy light, and plunges itself again into its own darkness: that has felt the heat of thy love, and resumes its former coldness; that has received the pardon of its sins, and commits new ones; that has been aided by the blessings of thy sweetness, and the attractions of thy beauty, and yet falls back again into a forgetfulness of its sovereign good, and sinks into the mire of sin! O divine Beauty! that bearest with these horrible ingratitudes, that expecteth me, calleth me, and still preventeth me: I deplore before thee, in the bitterness of my soul, all those fatal relapses, which I feel myself guilty of.

It is with justice, that thou delivered me up to my enemies, vices, and passions; and permitted me to be punished and confounded by everything that has separated me from thee; since, after having been introduced into the cellar of thy delicious wines, I have sought to quench my thirst in the muddy waters of creatures. I was unwilling to remain in thy house, and, by a just judgment, I am now obliged to beg in strange houses, where I find nothing that can satisfy the hunger I endure. Since I have fled from thy sweet embraces, O thou spouse of my soul! it is but just that I should be under the feet of my most cruel enemies: since I have been faithless in preserving what thou gavest me, thou justly refusest me what I beg of thee: I cry, and thou hearest me not; I call thee, and thou answerest me not. Nevertheless, O Lord! in spite of all my perfidy, thou art always my faithful friend, and the good shepherd of this wandering sheep for thou hast not yet precipitated me into hell, nor abandoned me to the rage of devils; thou hast not condemned me to be eternally separated from thee, neither has thou quite forsaken me; mayest thou therefore be blessed for ever.

I ask thee not for those singular favours thou grantest to thy faithful servants: I only beseech thee, O my God! not to turn me out of thy house, but to receive me still into the number of thy domestics, and to give me rather for constant food only my tears, till I am as pure as thou desirest me to be; till my interior eyes, disengaged from that thick cloud which obscures them, begins to behold again the serenity of thy countenance, and still thou sayest affectionately to my soul, I am thy salvation, thy strength, and thy constancy: then, humbled and convinced of its own weakness, it shall seek thee more ardently, and thou shalt be glorified by the return of a prodigal child, by the cure of one that was wilfully blind, and by the change of a faithless servant.

VII. I cast myself at thy feet, most miserable as I am: I adore thy divine Majesty hidden under the veil of infancy: I consecrate myself for ever to thy service with those holy kings; and I conjure thee, O Lord! to receive me with them. I am poor, and have neither frankincense, gold, nor myrrh to offer thee, in acknowledg

ment that thou art God, king, and mortal man; but I offer thee all thou hast given me, all thou art. I offer thee for my sins the most profound sorrow I have for them, and my sincere desire to offend thee no more; I offer thee an acknowledgment with heart and mouth of all the miseries into which I am fallen, for having departed from thee; I offer thee the resolution of satisfying thy justice: or rather, O Lord! take of me thyself all the satisfaction thou pleasest, that it may be more agreeable to thee. I offer thee the three powers of my soul; my understanding, that thou mayest illuminate it with thy light, and eternal truth; my memory, that it may be wholly occupied with thee and that thou mayest put everything out of it that can displease thee; my will, that it may be purified by the fire of thy love, and that it may love thee with all its strength. I offer thee the three divine virtues which thou gavest me in baptism; faith, by which I believe in thee, and acknowledge thee for my Lord, my Creator, my Saviour, my God, and my all; hope, by which my heart is carried towards those blessings which I can expect from thee; charity, which makes me sigh after thy eternal possession. I offer thee, O divine Jesus! all that thou art pleased to be for the love of me: I offer thee thy most sacred body, thy most pure soul, and thy divinity, which is the source of all happiness and wisdom: I offer myself to thy Father by thee; to thyself by thy Father; and by thy Father and thee to the Holy Ghost, who is the mutual love of both.

But, O Lord! as thou receivedst the wise-men's presents with their hearts, enlightened them with thy knowledge, and prevented them from returning to Herod thy enemy; enlighten me, also, O divine light! conduct me, O supreme truth! raise me up again, O increated life! separate me from everything that displeases thee, drive me not away from thee, but suffer me to remain at thy feet. Thus it is, O divine Jesus! that I find my happiness, my joy, and my delight; and taste that peace of God which surpasses all understanding. Philip. iv. 7.

O Virgin and mother at the same time, who drawest from their fountain those infinite blessings wherewith you are filled! bestow some share on this miserable creature, I mean not of the gold, frankincense, or myrrh, which the holy kings offered to your Son, but of those heavenly treasures which you are the dispensatrix of; may I obtain by you something that is worthy of being presented to him, and that may gain me his love. O celestial court! who surround and incessantly adore that divine monarch, and are always agreeable to him, what can ye ask of him but what will be granted you, since ye behold in him what he is willing to give to these poor banished souls? Obtain from him what is necessary for my coming to him, that I may one day possess him with you. Amen.

THE PRESENTATION OF JESUS CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE, IN THE ARMS OF SIMEON.

Christ was pleased that his most holy mother should accomplish, forty days after her delivery, two laws, which had not been made for her: the first was, not to enter into the temple till all that time was expired, during which a woman, delivered of a male child, was reputed unclean; and to offer, if rich, a lamb and a turtledove for her purification; or two turtle-doves if she were poor.

The law of Moses, which mentioned women in general in express terms, did not regard the Blessed Virgin, who had conceived by the operation of the Holy Ghost. But after seeing with her own eyes the divine Majesty humbled even to the resemblance of sin, she chose rather to imitate the humility of her Son and Lord, than to preserve before men the glory of her virginity, because she esteemed the quality of handmaid and imitatrix of Jesus Christ still more than that of his mother.

The other law commands that every first-born male child should be offered to God, and consecrated to his service on the fortieth day; that in case he were of the tribe of Levi, which was sacerdotal, he should be obliged to serve in the temple all his life; and that if he were of another tribe, his parents should discharge him from that obligation, by redeeming him with certain pieces of money; but Christ was not subject to that law, because he was born of a virgin, and the expressions of the law clearly denoted a common birth.

II. Their offering was that of the poor, for, though the wise-men had left with the Blessed Virgin gold, frankincense, and myrrh, she had either distributed it all to the poor, that she might suffer the poverty which Jesus Christ was pleased to practice, and which he came to teach men; or, if she had received any part of it, wherewith she might have bought a lamb, in order to accomplish, by offering it, the whole extent of the law; yet, she did not buy any, because she offered the lamb of God, who was her only treasure, for the sins of the world; and for herself two turtle-doves or two pigeons. She gave afterwards, for recovering her divine lamb out of the priest's hands, the price which was ordained by the law of the poor, and thus she redeemed the Redeemer of the world. Let us not forget to observe here a holy combat between the Son and the mother, in which they both endeavour to hide what they are, and would willingly appear what they are not. That divine emulation ought to be unto us a great subject of imitation and gratitude, since it comes from the same source of love from whence all those pains proceed which our Saviour endured for us.

III. It is probable that Simeon was not one of the priests of the