Who is there that has not experienced at some time in his life those
teachings so soft and gentle, yet so forcible, which make the heart
thrill, and reveal to it suddenly a world of peace, joy, and devotion?

It may have been but a word read in a book, or a sentence overheard in
conversation, which may have had for us a two-fold meaning, and, in
passing, left us touched with an unknown power.

It was the smile on the lips of a beloved one whom we knew to be
sorrowful, that spoke to us of the sweet joy of resignation.

It was the open look of an innocent child that revealed to us all the
beauty of frankness and simplicity.

Oh! if we had but treasured all the rays of light that cross our path and
sparkle but for a moment; oh! if we had but engraved them on our hearts!
what a guide and comfort they would have been to us in the days of
discouragement and sorrow; what counsels to guide our actions, what
consolations to soothe the broken heart!

How many new means of doing good!

It is this simple work of gathering a little from every source--from
nature, from books, above all, from mankind itself--that is the intention
of one of your fellow-creatures, dear souls, you who long so to make your
lives more holy and devout!

And in the same way as the gold dust, gathered and accumulated from the
river's bed, was the means of bringing a little profit to the hearth, so
would we endeavor to carry a little joy to your hearts, and peace to your
souls.

Gather, then, these little counsels; gather them with watchfulness; let
them for a moment penetrate deep into your heart; then scatter them abroad
again, that they may go with their good words to the help of others.

They will not be importunate, will not even ask to be preserved; they do
not desire fame; all that they seek is to convey a transient blessing.

GOLD DUST

I.

"My LORD!" exclaimed once a devout soul, "give me every day a little work
to occupy my mind; a little suffering to sanctify my spirit; a little good
to do to comfort my heart."

II.

If by our deeds we become saints, true it is, that by our deeds also we
shall be condemned.

Yes, it is little by little that we press onward, either towards salvation
or eternal ruin; and when at last we reach the gate of glory, or that of
perdition, the cry escapes our lips, "Already!"

The first backward step is almost imperceptible; it was those tiny flakes
of snow, seeming to melt as they touch the e