The wisdom of the simple soul consists in contentment with what is suitable to her, in confining herself to the sphere of her duties, and in never going beyond its boundary. She is not curious to know the secrets of the divine economy: she is content with God’s will in her regard, never striving to decipher its hidden meaning by conjecture or comparison, desiring to know no more than each moment reveals, listening to the voice of the Word when it speaks in the depth of her heart, never asking what the Spouse of her soul utters to others, contenting herself with what she receives in the depth of her soul; so that from moment to moment all things, however insignificant or whatever their nature, sanctify her unconsciously to herself. Thus the Beloved speaks to His spouse by the palpable effects of His action, which the spouse does not curiously study, but accepts with loving gratitude. Therefore the spirituality of this soul is simple, most solid, and interwoven with her whole being. Neither tumultuous thoughts nor words influence her conduct; for these, when not the instruments of divine grace, only inflate the mind. Many there are who assign an important part to intellect in piety, yet it is of little account therein, and not unfrequently prejudicial. We must make use of that only which God sends us to do and suffer. Yet many of us leave this divine essential to occupy our minds with the historic wonders of the divine work, instead of increasing these wonders by our fidelity. The marvels of this work which gratify the curiosity of our readings serve only to disgust us with the apparently unimportant events through which, if we despise them not, the divine love effects great things in us. Foolish creatures that we are! We admire, we bless, this divine action in its written history; but when it would continue to write its gospel in our hearts, we hold the paper in continual unrest, and we impede its action by our curiosity to know what it effects in us and what it effects elsewhere. Pardon, divine Love, for I am writing my own defects, and I have not yet learned what it is to abandon myself to Thy hand. I have not yet yielded myself to the mould. I have walked through Thy divine studios, I have admired all Thy works, but I have not yet learned the needful self-abandonment to receive the marks of Thy pencil. At last I have found Thee, my dear Master, my Teacher, my Father, my dear Love! I will be Thy disciple; I will learn in no other school but Thine. I return like the prodigal hungering for Thy bread. I abandon the ideas which only serve to gratify my curiosity. I will no longer seek after masters or books; no, I will use these means only as Thy divine will ordains them, and then not for my gratification, but to obey Thee by accepting all that Thou sendest me. I would confine myself solely to the duty of the present moment in order to prove my love, fulfil my obligations, and leave thee free to do with me what Thou wilt. Book Third.