3. _Cowardice._ GOD does not forbid patient, submissive pleading, but murmuring fears are displeasing to Him, and He withdraws from the soul that will not lean on Him. Cowardice manifests itself when in the _trials of life_ we rebel against the Divine will that sends us illness, calumny, privation, desertion; when in _dryness of soul_ we leave off our prayers and communions because we feel no sensible sweetness in them; when we feel a sickness of the soul that makes us uneasy, and fearful that GOD has forsaken us. The soul estranged from GOD seeks diversion in the world; but in the midst of the world, GOD is not to be found; when temptations come, wearied, frightened, and tormented, we wander farther and farther away from Him, crying, "I am forsaken," when the trial has really been sent in order to keep us on our guard, prevent our becoming proud, and offering us an opportunity for showing our love. V. THE LESSON OF A DAISY I saw her from afar, poor child; she looked dreamy as she leaned against the window, and held in her hand a daisy, which she was questioning by gradually pulling it to pieces. What she wanted to ascertain I cannot tell; I only heard in a low murmur, falling from her pale lips, these words: "_a little, a great deal, passionately, not __ at all_," as each petal her fingers pulled away fell fluttering at her feet. I could see her from a distance, and I felt touched. Poor child, why do you tell a flower the thought that troubles you? have you no mother? Why be anxious about the future? have you not GOD to prepare it for you, as tenderly as eighteen years ago your mother prepared your cradle? Finally, when the daisy was all but gone, when her fingers stopped at the last petal, and her lips murmured the word _little_, she dropped her head upon her arms, discouraged, and, poor child, she wept! * * * * * Why weep, my child? is it because this word does not please you? Let me, let me, in the name of the simple daisy you have just destroyed, give you the experience of my old age. Oh! if you only knew what it costs to have _much_ of anything! _A great deal of wit_ often results in spitefulness which makes us cruel and unjust, in jealousy that torments, in deception that sullies all our triumphs, and pride which is never satisfied. _A great deal of heart_ causes uneasiness which vexes, pain that rends asunder, grief that nearly kills ... sometimes even the judgment is deceived. _A great deal of attractiveness_ means often a consuming vanity, overwhelming deception, an insatiable desire to please, a fear of being unappreciated, a loss of peace, domestic life much neglected. _A great deal of wealth and success_ is the cause of luxury that enfeebles, loss of calm, quiet happiness, loss of love, leaving only the flattery that captivates. No, no, my child, never long for _a great deal_ in this life, unless it be for much forbearance, much goodness.