THE VENERABLE DON BOSCO
as well as his hours of prayer, contributed generously to his written page, and swelled the number of his books almost to miracle.
And, besides, Don Bosco never wasted time. St. Liguori, whose voluminous works are the treasure of the Church, made a vow which might well frighten the most saintly, never to waste a minute of time; and I have often thought that vow was like the fiery chariot of Elias, which bore his soul up to heaven to witness the "Glories" of divine love, and then, returning to earth, sped him over its vast spaces scattering his pages—so many sparks of fire to kindle heavenly love in the hearts of men. I really believe if we could enter into the secret world of Don Bosco's life in God, we should find that vow or its equivalent there written in the Heart of Jesus; for he, too, scattered his burning pages over the world in miraculous haste, and number, and spiritual variety.
He did not aim at the world's admiration in his choice of word and phrase. He looked to God for the thought and the power, and then wrote in simple, strong, concise language his gospel message to the young; for to them his eyes were always directed; to create the temple of God in their souls was his one imperious and dominating motive. Don Bosco had the gift of genius which might have put him on a par with the finest prose writers of Italy, had literature been his ambition. But all his beloved classics, in collegiate days so profoundly studied, so carefully
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