I cannot refrain from quoting some more of his religious aphorisms and meditations which instinctively suggest to us the pious musings of À Kempis. Here is one: “I have always thought, and I think now, that it is a great thing to know how to enjoy God. Why? Because in these hours of joy, humility is exercised with respect. But I have thought, and I think now, that the greatest thing is to know how to rest deprived of God. Why? Because in these hours of trial, faith is exercised without evidence, hope without attempt at fulfilment, and charity without any sign of the divine benevolence.” And here is a fragment from his last poem: “Love, I see that thou art transfiguring me, and making me become Love like thee, so that I dwell no longer in my own heart and that I know no longer how to find myself again. If I perceive in a man any evil, or vice, or temptation, I am transformed and I enter into him; I am penetrated with his pain.” It must not be supposed that these poems were in the Latin language in every instance. Very few of the entire number are truly within our own sphere of research, and all those composed in Italian are accessible to us only through a French prose translation. But his “Praise of Poverty” deserves a place even in these pages, for it reveals the nature of the poet and helps us to comprehend the pathos and tenderness of his unregulated genius: “Sweet Poverty, how much in truth Should we love thee! For, child, thou hast a sister named Humility. A common bowl, for food and drink, Is all thy need; Bread, water, and a few poor herbs, Suffice indeed. “And, if a guest should come, she adds A pinch of salt; She travels fearless, and no foe Can bid her halt; Thieves do not plunder her; she dies At length in peace; She makes no will; no grasping hands Clutch her increase. “Poor little thing! Behold thou art Heaven’s citizen; No vulgar earthly wishes draw Thee down to men; Thine is the greatest sceptre, thine The kingdom here, For what thou carest not to seek Still crowdeth near. “O science most profound and deep! For thus we rise, And gain our freedom by the things We most despise! O gracious Poverty, supplied With joy and rest, Thine is the plenty of the heart, And that is best!”