A design
WHAT offends Jesus, what wounds Him to the Heart, is want of confidence.
I LETTER TO HER COUSIN MARIE GUERIN
BELIEVING that I was born for glory, and seeking the means to attain to it, it was revealed to me interiorly that my glory would never be visible to mortal eyes but would consist in becoming a saint. This desire might well seem presumptuously bold, considering how imperfect I was, and how imperfect I am still after so many years in religion; and yet I feel ever the same audacious confidence of becoming a great saint. I count not on my merits, having none; but I trust in Him who is Virtue and Holiness itself. He alone it is who satisfied with my feeble efforts will raise me up even unto Himself, will clothe me with His merits and make me a saint.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV
OURS is an age of inventions: nowadays, with the rich a lift saves the trouble of climbing the stairs. And I, fain would I too find a lift to bear me up unto God, for I am too little to climb the rugged steps of perfection.
Then I turned to the Holy Scriptures, seeking from them an indication of this lift, the object of my desires; and I read these words which have issued from the very mouth of the Eternal Wisdom: "Whosoever is a VERY LITTLE ONE, let him come to me." [1] Then I drew nigh unto God divining truly that I had discovered what I sought: wishing however to know what He would do with the very little one, I continued my research and here is what I found: "You shall be carried at the breast and upon the knees; as one whom the mother caresseth so will I comfort you." [2]
Ah, never came words more sweet, more tender, to gladden my soul. Thine arms then, O Jesus, are the lift which must raise me up even unto Heaven! For this I need not grow, on the contrary I must remain little, I must ever tend to become yet more little. O my God, Thou hast gone beyond my expectations, and I—I will sing Thy mercies! Thou hast taught me, O God from my youth: and till now I have declared Thy wondrous works. And unto old age and grey hairs [3] will I proclaim them.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
[1] Prov., ix, 4.
[2] Is., lxvi, 12, 13.
[3] Cf. Ps., lxx. 17, 18.
SINCE it has been given to me too, to understand the love of the Heart of Jesus, I own that it has chased all fear from mine! The remembrance of my faults humiliates me, and urges me never to depend upon my own strength which is nothing but weakness: still more does this remembrance speak to me of mercy and of love. When, with all filial confidence we cast our faults into the devouring furnace of love, how should they not be totally consumed?
V LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
THOUGH we must needs be pure indeed to appear in the presence of the God of all Holiness, yet I know too that He is infinitely just; and this justice which affrights so many souls is the ground of my joy and my confidence. Justice not merely exercises severity towards the offender; it moreover recognizes a right intention, and awards to virtue its recompense. I hope as much from the Justice of the good God as from His Mercy; it is because He is just, that "He is compassionate and merciful, long-suffering and plenteous in mercy. For He knoweth our frame. He remembereth that we are but dust. As a father hath compassion on His children, so hath the Lord compassion on us!" [4] . . .
Listening to these beautiful and consoling words of the Royal Prophet, how can we doubt but that the good God will open the portals of His Kingdom to His children who have loved Him even unto sacrificing all for Him, who have not only left their kindred and their country, for the sake of making Him known and loved, but, still further, desire to give their life for Him? . . . Most truly has Jesus said that there is no greater love than this! How then could He suffer Himself to be outdone in generosity? How could He purify in the flames of Purgatory souls consumed by the fire of Divine Love? . . .
That is what I think of the justice of the good God; my way is all confidence and love, I do not understand those souls who fear so tender a Friend.
VI LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
[4] Ps., cii, 8, 13, 14.
THAT joy to think that God is just, that is to say, that He takes our weakness into consideration, that He thoroughly knows the frailty of our nature. Of what then, should I be afraid? Must not the good and infinitely just God, who with such tender mercy deigns to pardon the Prodigal Son, must He not be just towards me too—who am always with Him? [5]
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
[5] Luke, xv, 31.
I WANT to make you understand by a very simple comparison how much Jesus loves souls, even the imperfect, who trust in Him. Suppose the father of two wayward and disobedient children, coming to punish them, sees one tremble and draw away from him in terror; while the other, on the contrary, throwing himself into his arms, says he is sorry, promises to be good henceforward and begs for a kiss as punishment. Do you think the delighted father will withstand the filial confidence of this child? He knows nevertheless that his son will fall again many a time into the same faults, but he is disposed to pardon him always, if always there be an appeal to his heart.
I say nothing of the other child: you must understand that his father cannot love him as much or treat him with the same indulgence.
VIII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
TRULY the Heart of Jesus is more grieved by the thousand little imperfections of His friends than by even grave faults of His enemies. But it seems to me that it is only when His own chosen ones make a habit of these infidelities, and do not ask His pardon, that He can say: "These wounds which you see in the midst of My Hands: with these was I wounded in the house of them that loved Me." [6]
For those who love Him and who come after each little fault and throw themselves into His arms, begging His forgiveness, the Heart of Jesus thrills with joy. He says to His Angels what the father of the prodigal son said to His servants: "Put a ring on his finger and let us rejoice." [7] Oh! the goodness and the merciful love of the Heart of Jesus, how little is it known! True it is, that to share in these treasures we must humble ourselves, must acknowledge our nothingness, and that is what many souls are unwilling to do.
VII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
[6] Cf. Zach., xiii, 6.
[7] Cf. Luke, xv, 22.
OUR dreams, our desires of perfection are not vain imaginations, since Jesus Himself has given us this commandment, He said: "Be you, therefore, perfect, as also your Heavenly Father is perfect." [8]
II LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[8] Matt., v, 48.
TRULY I am far from being a saint. I ought not to rejoice at the aridity of my soul, but attribute it to the scantiness of my fervour and fidelity. I ought to grieve because I fall asleep very often during my prayer and my thanksgiving. Well, I do not grieve! I reflect that little children when they sleep are as pleasing to their parents as when they are awake; that in order to perform operations, doctors put their patients to sleep; in fine, that the Lord knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are but dust. [9]
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
[9] Ps., cii, 14.
I HAVE no fear of the last combats, nor of the physical suffering how great soever it may be. The good God has always come to my assistance, He has helped me and led me by the hand from my earliest years . . . I count on Him . . . my sufferings may reach their furthest limits, but I am sure that He will never abandon me.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
IT is confidence, and confidence alone, that must lead us to Love . . . Does not fear lead us rather to think of the rigid justice by which sinners are warned? But that is not the justice that Jesus will show to those who love Him.
VI LETTER TO SŒUR DU SACRÉ-CŒUR
O JESUS, suffer me to tell Thee that Thy Love reacheth even unto folly . . . What wilt Thou, in face of this folly, but that my heart dart upwards to Thee—how can my confidence have any bounds?
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
IT is not because I have been shielded from mortal sin that I lift up my heart to God in trust and love. I feel that even if there lay upon my conscience all the crimes one could commit I should lose nothing of my confidence. Brokenhearted with compunction I would go and throw myself into the arms of my Saviour. I know that He cherished the Prodigal Son, I have heard His words to Mary Magdalene, to the adultress, to the Samaritan woman. No one could frighten me, for I know what to believe concerning His Mercy and His Love. I know that in one moment all that multitude of sins would disappear—as a drop of water cast into a red- hot furnace.
It is related in the Lives of the Fathers of the Desert that one of them converted a public sinner whose misdeeds scandalized the whole country. Touched by grace this sinful woman was following the saint into the desert, there to do rigorous penance, when, on the first night of her journey, before she had even reached the place of her retreat, the bonds of life were broken by the impetuosity of her loving contrition. The holy hermit at the same moment saw her soul borne by Angels into the Bosom of God.
That is truly a striking instance of what I want to express, but one cannot put these things into words. . .
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
HAPPY indeed am I to die and go to Heaven, but when I think on those words of our Lord: "Behold, I come quickly, and My reward is with Me, to render to every man according to his works," [10] I reflect that He will be very much embarrassed as regards me: I have no works . . . Well, He will render to me ACCORDING TO HIS OWN WORKS!
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
[10] Apoc., xxii, 12.
THE SERVANT OF GOD
The Little Flower of Jesus!
ONE evening as they were telling her something which had been said at recreation, touching the responsibility of those who have the charge of souls, Sœur Thérèse de l'Enfant Jésus spoke these beautiful words: "'To him that is little, mercy is granted.' [11] It is possible to remain little, even in the most important offices; and is it not written that at the end the Lord will arise to save the meek and humble of the earth? [12] It says not to judge but to save."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[11] Wisdom, vi, 7.
[12] Cf. Ps., lxxv, 10.
A NOVICE questioning as to whether our Lord were not dissatisfied with her on account of her many miseries, Sœur Thérèse made answer:
"Set your mind at rest: He whom you have chosen as your Spouse possesses certainly every perfection that can be desired; but, if I may dare to say it, He has at the same time one great infirmity: He is blind! And there is a science which He knows not, that of calculation. These two points which would be most lamentable deficiencies in an earthly spouse, render ours infinitely lovable. Were He to consider our sins and reckon with them, do you not think that in the face of all these sins He would cast us back into nothingness? But no, His love for us makes Him absolutely blind!
"See for yourself: if the greatest sinner on earth, at the hour of death repent of his transgressions and expire in an act of love, immediately, without calculating on the one hand the numerous graces abused by this unhappy man, nor on the other, all his crimes, Jesus sees nothing, counts nothing, but the penitent's last prayer, and delays not to receive him into the arms of His Mercy.
"But to render Him thus blind, to hinder Him from doing the least little bit of reckoning, we must know how to lay siege to His Heart; at that point He is defenceless. . ."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
TO another, who bitterly repented of a fault just committed, Sœur Thérèse said:
"Take your Crucifix and kiss it."
The novice kissed the feet.
"Is that how a child embraces her Father? Put your arms round His Neck immediately and kiss His Face."
She obeyed.
"That is not all, He must return your caresses."
And she had to hold the Crucifix to each cheek; then Thérèse said:
"That is well, now all is forgiven!"
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
HAVING caused her pain, a novice went to ask pardon of Sœur Thérèse, who replied with emotion: "If you only knew what I feel! Never have I so well understood with what love Jesus receives us, when, after a fault we beg Him to forgive us. If I, His poor little creature, feel such tenderness for you the moment you return to me, what must pass in the Heart of the good God when we return to Him? . . . Yes, surely, more swiftly yet than I have just done, will He forget all our iniquities, never again to remember them . . . He will do even more—He will love us still better than before our fault! . . . "
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
A design
I CANNOT think without rapture of the dear little Saint Cæcilia: what a model! In the midst of a pagan world, in the heart of danger, at the moment when about to be united to a mortal who sought none but earthly love, it seems to me that she ought to have trembled and wept. But no, while her bridal was celebrated with joyful melody Cæcilia was singing in her heart. [1] What abandonment to God! Without doubt she listened to other melodies than those of earth; her Divine Spouse, He too, was singing, and Angel choirs sang again the refrain of one most blessed night: "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good will." [2]
The glory of God!—Oh! Cæcilia understood it; most earnestly did she long for it. She divined that her Jesus was athirst for souls . . . that is why her whole desire was that she might lead speedily to Him the soul of the young Roman, who dreamed of naught but human glory: this wise Virgin will make of him a martyr, and multitudes will follow in his footprints. She fears nothing: the Angels have promised and have sung of peace. She knows that the Prince of Peace is bound to protect her, to shield her virginity and to give to her its recompense. "O how beautiful is the chaste generation!" [3]
XVII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[1] Office of St. Cæcilia.
[2] Luke, ii, 14.
[3] Wisdom, iv, I.
I HAD offered myself to the Child Jesus to be His little plaything. I had told Him not to use me like a costly toy which children are pleased to look at without daring to touch; but as He would a little ball of no value, that He might throw to the ground, toss about, pierce, leave in a corner, or else press to His Heart if so it pleased Him. In a word I wanted to amuse the little Jesus, and to give myself up to all His childlike fancies.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VI
MY heart is entirely filled with the will of Jesus; therefore when anything over and above falls to its share, this does not penetrate to its depths; it is a mere nothing which easily glides by, as oil on the surface of limpid water. Ah! if my heart were not filled up beforehand, had it to be filled by the sentiments of joy or of sadness which so quickly succeed each other, bitter indeed would be this flood-tide of pain; but these rapid alternations do no more than ruffle the surface of my soul, and I remain ever in a profound peace that nothing can disturb.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
I AM not always faithful, but I am never discouraged; I leave myself wholly in the arms of our Divine Lord; He teaches me to draw profit from all—both good and ill that He finds in me. [4] He teaches me to speculate in the Bank of Love, or rather it is He who acts for me without telling me how He goes to work, that is His affair and not mine; my part is complete surrender, reserving nothing to myself, not even the gratification of knowing how my credit stands with the Bank.
XVI LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE
[4] St. John of the Cross.
A SISTER told Sœur Thérèse of the strange phenomena produced by magnetism on persons who really wish to yield up their will to the mesmerizer. These details appeared to interest her keenly and on the morrow she said to the Sister:
"Your conversation yesterday did me so much good. Oh! how I wish to be magnetized by our Lord. It was my first thought on awakening. With what delight have I delivered my will up to Him. Yes, I want Him to make Himself master of my faculties in such sort that my actions shall no longer be human or personal, but wholly divine, inspired and directed by the Spirit of Love."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
YOU are quite wrong to think of sorrows that the future may bring; it is, as it were, intermeddling with Divine Providence. We who run in the way of Love must never torment ourselves about anything. If I did not suffer minute by minute, it would be impossible for me to be patient; but I see only the present moment, I forget the past and I take good care not to anticipate the future. If we grow disheartened, if sometimes we despair, it is because we have been dwelling on the past or the future.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
I NO longer thirst for either suffering or death, yet both I dearly prize. Long did I call upon them as the harbingers of joy . . . Suffering has in very truth been mine, and I have thought I wellnigh touched the eternal shore! I have believed from my earliest youth that the little flower would be gathered in its spring-time; now, it is the spirit of self-abandonment alone that guides me, no other compass have I. I know not now, how to ask anything eagerly, save the perfect accomplishment of God's designs upon my soul.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. VIII
"PRAY for me," she would often say, "when I implore Heaven to come to my aid, then it is that I feel most forsaken."
"And in this desolation how do you avoid discouragement?" they asked her.
"I turn to the good God, to all the Saints, and I thank them just the same. I think they wish to see to what point I shall carry my trust . . . But not in vain have these words of Job sunk into my heart: 'Though He should kill me yet will I trust in Him.' [5] I acknowledge it was long before I reached this degree of abandonment; our Lord has taken me and placed me there!"
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[5] Job, xiii, 15.
IT seems to me that nothing now hinders me from taking flight, for I no longer have any great desires, save to love, even unto dying of love. I am free, I have no fear, not even of what I most dreaded; I mean the fear of being a long time ill and consequently a burthen to the Community. If it gives pleasure to the good God I willingly consent to see my life of suffering, both of soul and body, prolonged for years. Oh! no, I do not fear a long life. I do not shun the combat. "The Lord is the rock upon which I am founded. Who teacheth my hands to fight and my fingers to war; He is my protector in whom I have hoped." [6] Never have I asked God to let me die young; it is true I have ever believed that it would be so, but without seeking to obtain it.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IX
[6] Cf. Ps., cxliii, 1, 2, 3.
WHATEVER the good God has given me has always pleased me, even the gifts which have appeared to me less good and less beautiful than those received by others.
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
I HAVE no greater desire to die than to live; if our Lord gave me the choice I would choose nothing; I only will what He wills; it is what He does that I love.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
"SOME think you are afraid of death," they said to her.—"That may indeed yet happen; I never depend on my own thoughts, knowing how weak I am; but at present I will rejoice in the sentiments that the good God now gives me, there will be time enough to suffer from the contrary."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
A SISTER said to her:
"If anyone goes straight to Heaven, you surely will not spend one moment in Purgatory!"
"Oh! I feel little anxiety about that; I shall always be content with the sentence of the good God. If I go to Purgatory, well—I shall walk in the midst of the flames, like the three Hebrews in the furnace, singing the Canticle of Love."
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
A design
OH, how happy God makes me! How easy and how sweet it is to serve Him upon earth.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. X
SEEING several of my companions form special attachments to some one or other of our mistresses, I wished to follow their example but could not succeed therein. O happy inability! from how great evils has it saved me . . . How I thank God for having made me find only bitterness in the friendships of earth. With a heart such as mine I should have been captured and had my wings clipped; then how should I have been able to fly away and be at rest. [1]
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV
[1] Ps., liv, 7.
I UNDERSTAND well that our Lord knew I was too weak to be exposed to temptation; without doubt I should have been wholly destroyed had I been dazzled by the deceitful glamour of the love of creatures; but never has it shone before my eyes. There, where strong souls find joy, and through fidelity detach themselves from it, I have found only affliction. Where then is my merit in not being given up to these fragile attachments, since it is only by a gracious effect of God's mercy that I was preserved from it? Without Him, I recognize that I might have fallen as low as St. Magdalene; and that word of deep meaning spoken by the Divine Master to Simon the Pharisee, re-echoes with great sweetness in my soul. Yes, I know it: "To whom less is forgiven, he loveth less." [2] But I also know that Jesus has forgiven more to me than to St. Magdalene. Ah, how I wish I could express what I feel. Here at least is an example which will in some measure convey my thought.
Suppose the son of a skilful doctor is tripped by a stone in his path, which causes him to fall and fracture a limb. His father comes in haste, lifts him up lovingly and attends to his injuries, employing therein all the resources of his art; and the boy, very soon completely cured, testifies his gratitude. This child has certainly good reason to love so kind a father; but here is another supposition.
The father having learnt that there lies in his son's way a dangerous stone, sets out beforehand and removes it unseen by anyone. His son, the object of this tender forethought, unaware of the misfortune from which he has been preserved by the father's hand, will of course show no gratitude, and will love him less than if he had cured him of a grievous wound. But should he come to know all, will he not love him still more? Well—I am this child, the object of the preventing love of a Father Who sent His Son not to redeem the just but sinners. [3] He wills that I should love Him because He has forgiven me, not much, but everything. Without waiting for me to love Him much, like St. Mary Magdalene, He has made me to know how He had loved me with a preventing and ineffable love, in order that I may now love Him even unto folly!
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. IV
[2] Luke, vii, 47.
[3] Luke, v, 32.
WALKING one day in the garden, leaning on one of her sisters, Thérèse paused to enjoy the fascinating sight of a little white hen sheltering its chickens beneath its wings. Very soon her eyes filled with tears, and turning to her dear companion she said: "I can stay no longer, let us go in again quickly. . ." And in her cell, her tears continued falling and she could not utter a word. At last, looking at her sister with an expression that was quite heavenly, she said:
"I was thinking of our Lord, and of the touching comparison He chose in order to make us believe in His tenderness. That is just what He has done for me all my life: He has wholly hidden me beneath His wings! I cannot express what passed within my heart. Ah! the good God does well to veil Himself from my sight, to show me the effects of His Mercy rarely, and as it were, 'through the lattices;' [4] such consolations would, I feel, be more than I could bear."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[4] Cant., ii, 9.
"OH! how good is the good God!" . . . she would sometimes exclaim. "Yes, He must indeed be good to give me the strength to endure all that I suffer."
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
ONE day she said to the Mother Prioress:
"I would like to speak to you, Mother, of the state of my soul; but I cannot, I am too deeply moved just now."
And in the evening she sent these lines pencilled with a trembling hand:
"O my God, how good Thou art to the little victim of Thy Merciful Love! Now even though Thou dost join physical suffering to the trials of my soul, I cannot say: 'The sorrows of death have encompassed me.' [5] But I cry out in my gratitude: 'I have gone down into the valley of the shadow of death, yet I fear no evil, because Thou, O Lord, art with me.'" [6]
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[5] Ps., xvii, 5.
[6] Cf. Ps., xxii, 4.
A design
THE cry of Jesus agonizing, "I thirst!" re-echoed continually in my heart, firing it with an ardent zeal till then unknown to me. I longed to give to my Beloved to drink: I too felt myself consumed with the thirst for souls, and at all cost I would wrest sinners from the eternal flames.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V
THE Precious Blood of Jesus I poured on souls, to Him I offered these same souls renewed by the Dew of Calvary; thus I thought to quench His Thirst; but the more I gave Him to drink, the more ardently my poor little soul thirsted—and this I received as a most precious recompense.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. V
LIKE the Prophets and the Doctors I would fain enlighten souls. Fain would I travel the earth, O my Well-Beloved, to preach Thy Name and to set up Thy glorious Cross in Pagan lands. But one mission only would not suffice for me; would that I could at one and the same time proclaim the Gospel all the world over, even to the remotest of its islands. I would desire to be a Missionary not only for a few years, but to have been one from the creation of the world, and so to continue to the end of time.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
I LONG to accomplish the most heroic deeds. I feel within me the courage of a Crusader. I would die on the battlefield in defence of the Church.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
OPEN, my Jesus, thy Book of Life wherein are recorded the actions of all the Saints; those actions—would that I too, had accomplished such for Thee!
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XI
SOULS—dear Lord, we must have souls! Above all, souls of apostles and of martyrs, that through them we may inflame the multitude of poor sinners with love of Thee.
HIST. D'UNE AME, APPENDIX
AFTER recreation one day when the Mother Prioress had spoken of the persecution already raging against Religious Communities, Sœur Thérèse said to a novice: "Ah! Sister, we live in an era of martyrs! Blood will be shed.—What happiness if it should be ours!"
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
A NOVICE on her way to the laundry one day, went at a slow pace through the garden, looking at the flowers as she passed. Sœur Thérèse who followed walking quickly, soon overtook her and said: "Is that how one hastens who has children (souls) to support, for whose sustenance she is obliged to work? . . . "
COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES
DURING her illness she wrote:
"The will of the good God is my sole desire; and I declare that if in Heaven I could no longer work for His glory, I would choose exile rather than the Fatherland."
IV LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
WHAT draws me towards the Heavenly Country is the call of our Lord, the hope of at last loving Him as I have so ardently desired, and the thought that I shall be able to make Him loved by a multitude of souls who will bless Him eternally.
VIII LETTER TO HER MISSIONARY "BROTHERS"
CONFIDENTLY I count upon not remaining inactive in Heaven, my desire is to work still for the Church and for souls: this I ask of God, and I am certain that He will hear me. If I quit already the battlefield, it is not with the selfish desire of taking my rest. Suffering has long since become my heaven here below, and it is difficult to imagine how it will be possible for me to become acclimatized to a country where joy reigns, unmingled with sorrow. Jesus must needs transform my soul completely, else I could not support eternal bliss.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
JUST now a few notes of distant music fell upon my ear, and set me thinking that very soon I shall hear melodies beyond compare; yet this thought can give me but a moment's gladness; one only expectation makes my heart throb: it is the love that I shall receive and the love that I shall be able to give!
I feel that my mission is now to begin, my mission to make others love the good God as I love Him . . . to give to souls my little way. I WILL SPEND MY HEAVEN IN DOING GOOD UPON EARTH. This is not impossible, since the Angels in the full enjoyment of the Beatific Vision keep watch over us. No, I shall never rest till the end of the world! But when the Angel shall have said: "Time is no more!" [1] then I shall rest—shall be able to rejoice, because the number of the elect will be complete.
HIST. D'UNE AME, CH. XII
[1] Apoc., x, 6.