rt of man what things God hath
prepared for them that love Him."[10] And all this will come
soon--very soon--if we love Jesus ardently. It seems to me that
God has no need of years to perfect His labour of love in a soul.
One ray from His Heart can in an instant make His flower blossom
forth, never to fade. . . . Celine, during the fleeting moments
that remain to us, let us save souls! I feel that Our Spouse asks
us for souls--above all, for the souls of Priests. . . . It is He
Who bids me tell you this.

There is but one thing to be done here below: to love Jesus, and
to save souls for Him that He may be more loved. We must not let
slip the smallest opportunity of giving Him joy. We must refuse
Him nothing. He is in such need of love.

We are His chosen lilies. He dwells as a King in our midst--He
lets us share the honours of His Royalty--His Divine Blood bedews
our petals--and His Thorns as they wound us spread abroad the
perfume of our love.

VII

October 22, 1889.

MY DEAREST CELINE,--I send you a picture of the Holy Face. The
contemplation of this Divine subject seems to me to belong in a
special way to my little sister, truly the sister of my soul. May
she be another Veronica, and wipe away all the Blood and Tears of
Jesus, her only Love! May she give Him souls! May she force her
way through the soldiers--that is, the world--to come close to His
side. . . . Happy will she be when she sees in Heaven the value of
that mysterious draught with which she quenched the thirst of her
Heavenly Spouse; when she sees His Lips, once parched with burning
thirst, speaking to her the one eternal word--love, and the thanks
which shall have no end. . . .

Good-bye, dear little Veronica;[11] to-morrow, no doubt, your
Beloved will ask some new sacrifice, a fresh relief for His thirst
. . . but "let us go and die with Him!"

VIII

July 18, 1890.

MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,--I send you a passage from Isaias which
will comfort you. Long ago the Prophet's soul was filled with the
thought of the hidden beauties of the Divine Face, as our souls
are now. Many a century has passed since then. It makes me wonder
what is Time. Time is but a mirage, a dream. Already God sees us
in glory, and rejoices in our everlasting bliss. How much good I
derive from this thought! I understand now why He allows us to
suffer.

Since Our Beloved has "trodden the wine-press alone,"[12] the
wine-press from which He gives us to drink--on our sid