How long, O Lord, how long? When shall we wake up to the reality of Your Presence in our midst, and to the purpose of that Presence? We would die for it if need be, and yet we heed it not. Shall I wait till it is brought home to me by the remorse of my last hour, or by the long, long hours of purgatory? Oh, why did I not make use of my Emmanuel, my God with me, whilst I had time, “whilst He was in the way with me”?[10] Why during my dream-life down there did I not realise the need of Him that is the one need in this real life of eternity? A child at catechism said: “Won’t it be dreadful for those who don’t believe in the Real Presence to find at Judgment that it _was_ real, that our Lord was there after all! Even if they didn’t know any better, and so it was not their fault, and our Lord is not angry with them--I think they will be so dreadfully sorry all the same.” But if these will be sorry, what will be the case of those who did know and neglected Him? Those to whom He will say, “_So long a time have I been with you, and you have not known Me!_”[11] “_I was daily with you in the temple._”[12] Lord Jesus, let not that be my bitterest thought in purgatory, that land of bitter thoughts. It is time that Your love should be returned, that I should make amends for the past, that I should hasten to You with my sorrow and my love. * * * * * _Go to Him early in the morning._ Is daily Mass an impossibility in my case? He waits for me there, to offer, for me and with me, His sacrifice and mine for the interests we share together. _And let thy feet wear the steps of His doors._ More especially in the afternoon or evening, when the church is quiet and He is left all alone. With a little goodwill and ingenuity could I not include a visit to Him in my weekly, if not in my daily programme? Could I not so arrange my calls to other friends as to leave a few moments for my dearest and my best? How blessed a remembrance when He is brought to my doors at the last, to be my viaticum, that in life I was faithful to the duties of friendship and wore the steps of His doors! O blessed, self-sufficing God Athirst for me, Coming a beggar to my door All suppliantly, Craving with meek persistence alms Of my poor heart, A thought, a word of sympathy--how sweet, How sweet Thou art! And must Thou knock and ever knock Till life is flown, Seeking vain entrance to a heart That is Thine own? Or wilt Thou rather work this hour Such change in me That hither I may come “wearing Thy steps” Athirst for Thee! [2] Isa. lv. [3] Matt. xi. [4] John vi. [5] _Ibid._ v. [6] Luke xiv. [7] Psa. xxx. [8] Prov. xviii. [9] Jer. ii. [10] Matt. v. [11] John xiv. [12] Luke xxii. II. PRAISE. Give praise to our God, all ye His servants, and you that fear Him, little and great.--_Apoc._ xix. 5.