was still very defective. My elastic conscience and my want of light prevented my discovering the faults I see clearly now; but what I did not say then, I said afterwards, as you may imagine; and if my confession was imperfect, it was at least sincere. It was on the eve of Low Sunday, in S. Peter's church, that Father Olivieri heard my confession, and gave me Paschal Communion.

On the same day, I had an interview for the first time with the pious Father Francis of Urbino. He asked me if I thought of entering religion. On my replying in the negative, an air of sadness overspread his countenance, and he said, "You are now whole; sin no more, go in peace." I returned home joyful and happy.

My soul being purified in the manner I have stated, the divine goodness began to knock more loudly at the door of my heart. Its voice made itself heard, not in the distance as heretofore, but within me, and in a manner so clear and distinct that I could not stifle it. I often shut my ears, but it was useless, because it spoke not to my body, but to my soul. When I began to pray, it seemed as if I were going to the war, for then I fought incessantly against God; and there is no war so painful as that. However, I never interrupted the course of my daily prayers. It happened sometimes, that, fatigued with my resistance to grace, God would say to me, "I am He Whom thou desirest, and yet the more I call, the more deaf do thy ears become. The more I press thee, the more thou resistest My love for thee. Well, then, my daughter, go into the world where thy folly leads thee; there thou wilt find no satisfaction for thy desires." Consider, my dear father, that my mind did not assent to these words; I turned them over and over, but found no

rest, nor could I resolve to enter religion. Nevertheless, instead of shortening my prayer, I repeated it because it was Friday, and it seemed that some one drew near to assist me. I have never been subjected to such a shock of contending feelings: at one moment willing to obey the call of grace, the next, revolting against it. But at last my free will, which in the midst of the conflict had remained neutral, erected itself into a judge, and decided in favour of the Spirit of God.

The submission was prompt. I determined, with all the affection of my soul, to serve the Lord as He wished, and was ready, if necessary, to suffer martyrdom, rather than continue to resist grace, or even to oppose it by sinful delays. I felt, at the same moment, a lively desire to go to Urbino, something whispering to me interiorly that it was only there that I could serve God with a tranquil heart. The determination was to my soul, exhausted by such painful agitations, what a soft bed of flowers would have been to a body exhausted with fatigue. Since that day I have ever enjoyed profound peace, and great spiritual joy.

CHAPTER III.

SPIRITUAL FAVOURS WHICH FOLLOWED HER ENTIRE CONVERSION.

It is now, O my God, that I feel more than ever in need of Thy assistance, having to recount things more angelic than human. Assist me, then, O Lord, I beseech Thee; grant me the grace worthily to recount Thy admirable benefits, those benefits with

unworthy creature for And you, my father, once, but a thousand

which Thou hast loaded Thine her own shame and confusion. while listening to me, say not times, "I am no longer astonished at your great trials, but only that God has been so lenient towards you, ungrateful creature that you are; for what could He have done for you that He has not done? and how have you corresponded to His adorable goodness?" In saying this, my father, you would say but the truth. In fact, as soon as I had conformed my will to His adorable Will, all the cataracts of heaven seemed to open upon me, and my sinful soul was absorbed in the abyss of the divine mercies. This God of goodness came to meet His prodigal child; He received her in His Arms, and pressed her to His Heart; He bestowed on her the sweetest caresses, and gave her, not once, but many times, with His divine Mouth, the kiss of peace. O my heart, harder than the very stones, how is it that thou dost not break with love? What art thou doing? so slow in showing thy gratitude?" sovereign goodness continued to treat soul as the mother who cannot caress her child sufficiently; and this covered me with confusion. how often have I besought, with true humility, this loving Father to cease caressing me, for I was so unworthy! How often have I withdrawn from prayer in order to escape from His divine Arms! But this means, which might have been sufficient to save me from His justice, could not tear me from the embraces of His love. It frequently happened that on leaving my prayer my soul required a certain time to return to herself. Often I heard within me words of inexpressible sweetness, words full of manna

Why art thou

And yet the my unfaithful

Oh,

and honey, of gladness and joy. But what am I doing? Do I pretend that I am writing all? I cannot, and if I could I would not, because of the words of the prophet: "Thy words have I in my heart, that I may not sin against Thee." I will only say with the Spouse in the Canticles: "My soul melted when He spoke," and with the Psalmist : "How sweet are Thy words to my palate, more than honey to my mouth. Thy word is exceedingly refined, and Thy servant hath loved it."

I saw clearly within me the accomplishment of this word of the prophet Ezechiel, "In what day soever he shall turn from his wickedness, I will not remember all his iniquities that he hath done." God did still more for me, He effaced them from my own remembrance. I could not, indeed, remember any of my former sins, and I no longer felt any fear; and therefore I plunged into, and submerged myself in an ocean of love. Such was the fruit of my conversion, which made me understand how the beginning of wisdom (that is, the first taste of the divine sweetness) is the fear of the Lord; and because this taste is strongly felt, in proportion to the strength of the previous fear, it was without measure, as my former fear had been.

For many previous years my heart had experienced a strong necessity to love, and because my affections. leant towards creatures, I restrained them with the rein of discretion, for fear of compromising myself, but when they inclined towards God, I slackened the reins, and allowed them to rush forth impetuously towards my sweet Saviour, Who, not content with calling me, showed Himself to me, sometimes under the form of a Father, sometimes under the form of a

Friend, sometimes (and that the most frequently) under the form of a loving Spouse. When He deigns to enter into a soul in this way, I believe, from my own little experience, that He gives birth there to a feeling of divine love, so sweet and delicious, that there is nothing in this life with which it can be compared. If this feeling had not been transitory, I should have wished never to quit this mortal life, because I felt as if I were already in possession of eternal life. In truth, I cannot imagine any difference between this bliss and the joys of paradise, except that which exists between an uncertain and fleeting happiness and a certain and everlasting joy. But, alas! this difference is not small; I would say rather it is sovereign and infinite!

Beholding myself now, on the one hand so tenderly loved, and on the other so guilty and vicious—I could not see myself otherwise; for when the Sun of justice enters into a soul, she finds herself enlightened with marvellous light—I sometimes exclaimed, full of wonder, "O my Lord! if the demons dared to utter such a blasphemy, it seems to me they must regard Thee as the friend of vice. I beseech Thee, my Jesus, I conjure Thee not to permit them to give Thee a name so odious. Isay they might call Thee so, for I am but iniquity, and yet Thou lovest me with incredible love. O my Jesus, again I beseech Thee, suffer not the demons to dishonour Thee because of Thy love for me." One day while I was speaking thus, I heard this loving God reply: "Know, my daughter, that I am far from being the friend of vice. I can well rejoice in thee without loving iniquity, since thou hast until now preserved thy innocence. This is what I love and what I enjoy in thee." Now my ignorance of spiritual language