If sometimes he is a little too much absent from that _Divine
Presence_, GOD presently makes Himself to be felt in his soul to
recall him, which often happens when he is most engaged in his outward
business. He answers with exact fidelity to these inward drawings,
either by an elevation of his heart towards GOD, or by a meek and fond
regard to Him, or by such words as love forms upon these occasions, as
for instance, _My God, here I am all devoted to Thee_: LORD, _make me
according to Thy heart_. And then it seems to him (as in effect he
feels it) that this GOD of love, satisfied with such few words,
reposes again, and rests in the fund and centre of his soul. The
experience of these things gives him such an assurance that GOD is
always in the fund or bottom of his soul, that it renders him
incapable of doubting it upon any account whatever.

Judge by this what content and satisfaction he enjoys while he
continually finds in himself so great a treasure. He is no longer in
an anxious search after it, but has it open before him, and may take
what he pleases of it.

He complains much of our blindness, and cries often that we are to be
pitied who content ourselves with so little. GOD, saith he, _has
infinite treasure to bestow, and we take up with a little sensible
devotion, which passes in a moment. Blind as we are, we hinder GOD,
and stop the current of His graces. But when He finds a soul
penetrated with a lively faith, He pours into it His graces and favors
plentifully: there they flow like a torrent, which, after being
forcibly stopped against its ordinary course, when it has found a
passage, spreads itself with impetuosity and abundance_.