tion.
He
builds
up
by
casting
down
;
He
gives
life
by
killing.
Oh
!
if
I
could
tell
what
He
does,
and
the
strange
means
which
He
uses
to
bring
us
here.
But
silence
!
men
are
not
able
to
hear
it
;
those
who
have
experienced
it
know
what
it
is.
Here
there
is
no
need
of
place
or
time;
all
is
alike,
all
places
are
good
;
and
wherever
the
order
of
God
may
take
us,
it
is
well,
because
all
means
are
useless
and
infinitely
surpassed
:
when
we
have
reached
the
end,
there
is
nothing
left
to
wish
for.
Here
all
is
God
:
God
is
everywhere
and
in
everything,
and
therefore
to
the
soul
all
is
the
same.
Its
religion
is
God
Himself,
always
the
same,
never
interrupted;
and
if
sometimes
God
pours
some
stream
of
His
glory
upon
its
natural
powers
and
sensibilities,
it
has
no
effect
upon
the
centre,
â–ºwhich
is
always
the
same.
The
soul
is
indifferent
either
to
solitude
or
a
crowd
:
it
no
longer
looks
forward
to
deliverance
from
the
body
in
order
that
it
may
be
united
to
God.
It
is
now
not
only
united,
but
transformed,
changed
into
the
Object
of
its
love,
which
causes
it
no
longer
to
think
of
loving;
for
it
loves
God
with
His
own
love,
and
naturally,
though
not
inamissibly.
