IV

February 28, 1889.

MY DEAR LITTLE SISTER,—­Jesus is “a Spouse of blood."[6] He wishes for Himself all the blood of our hearts.  You are right—­it costs us dear to give Him what He asks.  But what a joy that it does cost!  It is happiness to bear our crosses, and to feel our weakness in doing so.

Celine, far from complaining to Our Lord of this cross which He sends us, I cannot fathom the Infinite Love which had led Him to treat us in this way.  Our dear Father must indeed be loved by God to have so much suffering given to him.  I know that by humiliation alone can Saints be made, and I also know that our trial is a mine of gold for us to turn to account.  I, who am but a little grain of sand, wish to set to work, though I have neither courage nor strength.  Now this very want of power will make my task easier, for I wish to work for love.  Our martyrdom is beginning . . .  Let us go forth to suffer together, dear sister, and let us offer our sufferings to Jesus for the salvation of souls.

V

March 12, 1899.

. . .  I must forget this world.  Here everything wearies me—­I find only one joy, that of suffering, and this joy, which is not one of sense, is above all joy.  Life is passing, and eternity is drawing near.  Soon we shall live the very life of God.  After we have been filled at the source of all bitterness, our thirst will be quenched at the very Fountain of all sweetness.

“The figure of this world passeth away"[7]—­soon we shall see new skies—­a more radiant sun will light with its splendour crystal seas and infinite horizons.  We shall no longer be prisoners in a land of exile, all will have passed away, and with our Heavenly Spouse we shall sail upon boundless seas.  Now, “our harps are hanging on the willows which grow by the rivers of Babylon,"[8] but in the day of our deliverance what harmonies will they not give forth, how joyfully shall we make all their strings vibrate!  Now, “we shed tears as we remember Sion, for how can we sing the songs of the Lord in a land of exile?"[9] The burden of our song is suffering.  Jesus offers us a chalice of great bitterness.  Let us not withdraw our lips from it, but suffer in peace.  He who says peace does not say joy, or at least sensible joy:  to suffer in peace it is enough to will heartily all that Our Lord wills.  Do not think we can find love without suffering, for our nature remains and must be taken into account; but it puts great treasures within our reach.  Suffering is indeed our very livelihood, and is so precious that Jesus came down upon earth on purpose to possess it.  We should like to suffer generously and nobly; we should like never to fall.  What an illusion!  What does it matter to me if I fall at every moment!  In that way I realise my weakness, and I gain thereby.  My God, Thou seest how little I am good for, when Thou dost carry me in Thy Arms; and if Thou leavest me alone, well, it is because it pleases Thee to see me lie on the ground.  Then why should I be troubled?