d with the fire to
the point of sharing its substance? Well, this is precisely my
prayer. I asked Jesus to draw me into the Fire of His love, and to
unite me so closely to Himself that He may live and act in me. I
feel that the more the fire of love consumes my heart, so much the
more shall I say: "Draw me!" and the more also will souls who draw
near me _run swiftly in the sweet odour of the Beloved._

Yes, they will run--we shall all run together, for souls that are
on fire can never be at rest. They may indeed, like St. Mary
Magdalen, sit at the feet of Jesus, listening to His sweet and
burning words, but, though they seem to give Him nothing, they
give much more than Martha, who busied herself about many things.
It is not Martha's work that Our Lord blames, but her
over-solicitude; His Blessed Mother humbly occupied herself in the
same kind of work when she prepared the meals for the Holy Family.
All the Saints have understood this, especially those who have
illumined the earth with the light of Christ's teaching. Was it
not from prayer that St. Paul, St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa, and so many other friends of
God drew that wonderful science which has enthralled the loftiest
minds[?]

"Give me a lever and a fulcrum on which to lean it," said
Archimedes, "and I will lift the world."

What he could not obtain because his request had only a material
end, without reference to God, the Saints have obtained in all its
fulness. They lean on God Almighty's power itself and their lever
is the prayer that inflames with love's fire. With this lever they
have raised the world--with this lever the Saints of the Church
Militant still raise it, and will raise it to the end of time.

Dear Mother, I have still to tell you what I understand by the
_sweet odour of the Beloved._ As Our Lord is now in Heaven, I can
only follow Him by the footprints He has left--footprints full of
life, full of fragrance. I have only to open the Holy Gospels and
at once I breathe the perfume of Jesus, and then I know which way
to run; and it is not to the first place, but to the last, that I
hasten. I leave the Pharisee to go up, and full of confidence I
repeat the humble prayer of the Publican. Above all I follow
Magdalen, for the amazing, rather I should say, the loving
audacity, that delights the Heart of Jesus, has cast its spell
upon mine. It is not because I have been preserved from mortal sin
that I lif