God the pleasing sight of ever increasing virtues. Her holy desires and aspirations are constantly ascending like a sweet odor to heaven. But whence has she received the first seeds of good? From meditation, which daily sheds fruitful dew on her heart. "Thy plants are a paradise of pomegranates with the fruits of the orchard. . . . The fountain of gardens, the well of living waters, which run with a strong stream from Libanus" (Cant. iv. 13, 15). If the fountains of the garden were to dry up, the flowers and foliage would soon wither for lack of water.
So it is with the soul. As long as it meditates, we find in it charity, modesty, humility, and mortification. But let mental prayer be neglected, and vanity, frivolity, love of ease and worldly pleasures, want of recollection and devotion, neglect of mortification — all these are the result. Water is wanting, the spirit is dried up. "My soul is as earth without water unto Thee" (Ps. cxlii. 6). The poor soul has forsaken mental prayer, and the garden of her heart is parched. It grows drier and harder day by day. St. Chrysostom looks upon such a soul as not only sick, but even lifeless. "He who no longer prays to God," he says, "who no longer desires constant communion with Him, is dead." When
