ifficult
virtues to acquire.

A well-spent day is a source of pleasure. To be constantly employed, and
never asking, "What shall I do?" is the secret of much goodness and
happiness.

Begin, then, with promptitude, act decisively, persevere; if interrupted,
be amiable, and return to the work unruffled, finish it carefully--these
will be the signs of a virtuous soul.

XLI.

Are you full of peace? _Pray!_ Prayer will preserve it to you.

Are you tempted? _Pray!_ Prayer will sustain you.

Have you fallen? _Pray!_ Prayer will raise you.

Are you discouraged? _Pray!_ Prayer will reassure and comfort you.

XLII.

The young are seldom forbearing, because they so little understand the
frailties of poor human nature.

Oh! if you could only witness the terrible struggles passing in the heart
of that friend whose vivacity annoys you, whose fickleness provokes you,
whose faults sometimes even make you blush....

Oh! if you saw the tears that are shed in secret, the vexation felt
against self (perhaps on your account), you would indeed pity them. Love
them! make allowances for them! never let them feel that you know their
failings.

To make any one believe himself good, is to help him almost in spite of
self to become so.

* * * * *

Forbearance is even _more_ than forgiveness; it is excusing, putting
always the best construction upon everything; above all, never showing
that some proceeding has wounded us; speaking of any one who has vexed us
thus: "She did not think, else she would have acted differently; she never
meant to pain me, she loves me too much; she was perhaps unable to do
otherwise, and yet suffers at the thought of having displeased me."

For a wounded heart no balm is so efficacious as forbearance.

_To forbear_ is to forget every night the little vexations of the past
day; to say every morning: "To-day I shall be braver and calmer than
yesterday." Forbearance even sometimes leads us to detect in ourselves a
little want of good nature, condescension, and charity.

_To forbear_ is not only freely to forgive, but to meet half-way, with
extended hand, those who timidly ask for pardon.

XLIII.

My friend, do you know why the work you accomplish fails either to give
pleasure to yourself or others?

It is because it is not cheerfully done, and therefore appears discolored.

A joyous heart amid our work imparts to duty a brilliancy that charms the
eyes of other