But in the onward progress of the soul, it becomes no longer doubtful, whether the soul is to remain in the passive enjoyment of God and his communications. The soul begins to feel a drawing, to let God not only be all things in the soul, but there to reign separate from the soul's enjoyment of his gifts. The soul now experiences what is called, by the author of the Imitation of Christ, _the exile of the heart_. It hears a voice in the depth of the soul, or, rather, has an impression, that God reigns there alone. This exile is at first very painful, for it is important to notice, that, from the commencement of seeking God in the depth of the soul to the possession of him, there are many trials, temptations, sorrows. _Every successive state is marked by a purifying process_. Persons often mistake, and take the first purification for the last. When God reigns alone in the soul, separate from the action of self, and self is destroyed, it is beyond any previous state. When the soul has ceased from its own selfish operations, and the man of sin is exterminated, its defects become more apparent, because God wishes it to comprehend what it is by itself, and what it would be without him. The soul is thus afflicted, believing it has lost the virtues, acquired with so much care, and seems to have faults that it had not before perceived. It says, with the spouse in the Canticles, "I have washed my feet, how shall I sully them?" You do not perceive, O, soul beloved, that you do not sully them in going to "open to the spouse," and that if you contract some slight impurity, he will remove it so perfectly, that you will become more beautiful. In the mean time, it is not the desire of the spouse to become beautiful in her own eyes, but to see only the beauty of her Lover. When the soul is faithful in this state, and really desires to die to itself, she is pleased only with the beauty of her Beloved, and says his beauty shall be my beauty. But it is necessary to advance beyond this, for, after being despoiled of her beauty, it would be a selfishness much greater to appropriate to herself, the beauty of her Beloved. His beauty must remain untarnished, unappropriated by her; she must leave him all, and remain in her nothing, for the nothing is her proper place. This is Perfect Love, which regards God alone. SELECTIONS FROM HER POETRY. A LITTLE BIRD I AM. "A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air; And in my cage I sit and sing To Him who placed me there; Well pleased a prisoner to be, _Because, my God, it pleases thee_. "Nought have I else to do; I sing the whole day long; And He, whom most I love to please, Doth listen to my song; He caught and bound my wandering wing, But still he bends to hear me sing.