hat in the radiant day of the Judgment He may speak to us those
ineffably sweet words: "Come, ye blessed of My Father, for I was
hungry and you gave Me to drink, I was a stranger and you took Me
in, I was sick and you visited Me, I was in prison and you came to
Me."[28]

Dearest Celine, let us rejoice in the lot that is ours! Let us
give and give again, and give royally, never forgetting that Our
Beloved is a hidden Treasure which few souls know how to find. Now
to discover that which is hidden we must needs hide ourselves in
the hiding-place. Let our life, then, be one of concealment. The
author of the _Imitation_ tells us:

"If thou would'st know and learn something to the purpose, love to
be unknown, and to be esteemed as nothing . . . [29] Having
forsaken all things, a man should forsake himself. . . [30] Let
this man glory in this and another in that, but thou for thy part
rejoice neither in this nor in that, but in the contempt of
thyself."[31]

XVI

MY DEAR CELINE,--You tell me that my letters do good to you. I am
indeed glad, but I assure you that I am under no misapprehension:
"Unless the Lord build the house, they labour in vain who build
it."[32] The greatest eloquence cannot call forth a single act of
love without that grace which touches the heart.

Think of a beautiful peach with its delicate tint of rose, with
its flavour so sweet that no human skill could invent such nectar.
Tell me, Celine, is it for the peach's own sake that God created
that colour so fair to the eye, that velvety covering so soft to
the touch? Is it for itself that He made it so sweet? Nay, it is
for us; the only thing that is all its own and is essential to its
being, is the stone; it possesses nothing beyond.

Thus also it pleases Jesus to lavish His gifts on certain souls in
order to draw yet others to Himself; in His Mercy He humbles them
inwardly and gently compels them to recognise their nothingness
and His Almighty Power. Now this sentiment of humility is like a
kernel of grace which God hastens to develop against that blessed
day, when, clothed with an imperishable beauty, they will be
placed, without danger, on the banqueting-table of Paradise. Dear
little sister, sweet echo of my soul, Therese is far from the
heights of fervour at this moment; but when I am in this state of
spiritual dryness, unable to pray, or to practise virtue, I look
for little opportunities, for the smallest trifles, to please my
Jesus: a sm