ing to God. It is less bitter to be rebuked by a
sinner than by a just man; but through compassion for sinners, to
obtain their conversion, I beseech Thee, O my God, to permit that
I may be well rebuked by those just souls who surround me. I ask
also that the _oil of praise,_ so sweet to our nature, _may not
perfume my head,_ that is to say, my mind, by making me believe
that I possess virtues when I have merely performed a few good
actions.

"Jesus! 'Thy Name is as oil poured out,'[11] and it is into this
divine perfume that I desire wholly to plunge myself, far from the
gaze of mankind."

* * * * * *

"It is not playing the game to argue with a Sister that she is in
the wrong, even when it is true, because we are not answerable for
her conduct. We must not be _Justices of the peace,_ but _Angels
of peace_ only."

* * * * * *

"You give yourselves up too much to what you are doing," she used
to say to us; "you worry about the future as though it were in
your hands. Are you much concerned at this moment as to what is
happening in other Carmelite convents, and whether the nuns there
are busy or otherwise? Does their work prevent you praying or
meditating? Well, just in the same way, you ought to detach
yourselves from your own personal labours, conscientiously
spending on them the time prescribed, but with perfect freedom of
heart. We read that the Israelites, while building the walls of
Jerusalem, worked with one hand and held a sword in the other.[12]
This is an image of what we should do: avoid being wholly absorbed
in our work."

* * * * * *

"One Sunday," Therese relates, "I was going toward the chestnut
avenue, full of rejoicing, for it was spring-time, and I wanted to
enjoy nature's beauties. What a bitter disappointment! My dear
chestnuts had been pruned, and the branches, already covered with
buds, now lay on the ground. On seeing this havoc, and thinking
that three years must elapse before it could be repaired, my heart
felt very sore. But the grief did not last long. 'If I were in
another convent,' I reflected, 'what would it matter to me if the
chestnut-trees of the Carmel at Lisieux were entirely cut down?' I
will not worry about things that pass. God shall be my all. I will
take my walks in the wooded groves of His Love, whereon none dare
lay hands."

* * * * * *

A novice asked her Sisters to help her shake some blankets. As
they were somewhat liable