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THE
AVE MARIA.
Wenceforth all genei^tions shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., JULY 1, 1876.
No. 27.
The Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
The Festival of the Visitation should have a
particular interest for us of the nineteenth cen-
tury, apart from the holy mystgries it commemo-
rates. Its spirit would exorcise much evil out of
■IS if we would give it room and time to work.
How fall it is of brooding peace, and what is so
wanting to us as peace! While its name denotes
activity, it somehow brings before us quiet, calm
and peaceful images. We cannot associate the
idea of hurry or bustle with Mary, although the
Evangelist tells us she went with haste. But he
tells us something else ^rst—Mutng up in those
days, she went with haste. From her habits of
quiet recollection, from her life of retirement and
prayer, "rising up," she went forth "in those
days " when the Lord was not merely with her, as
before the Annunciation, but within her. It was
not Mary, full of grace, who went in haste, but
Mary bearing within her the very God Himself,
closely united with her, so that They were in a
manner but One. Had she gone sooner, no mar-
vel would have followed her visit to St. Elizabeth.
It would have been only a friendly visit ; Mary,
pure and holy as she was, could not destroy orig-
inal sin in the child of her kinswoman, nor cause
him to leap with joy in his mother's womb.
Now what a forcible lesson this gives to zealous
souls,— and we ought all to be zealous, must be
zealous, else we disregard the oft-spoken wish of
the Holy Father. On this Feast, Our Lady teaches
us the science of waiting. And it is so hard to
acquire ! We can do anything rather than wait.
Yet we must learn to wait, to wait patiently, to
wait peacefully ; these are three degrees to master :
when we have acquired the last we shall be ready
for God's work, for then He will be dwelling in
us. Peaceful zeal is a thing no one can have
save through the abode of the Spirit of peace
within the soul. " It is not required of us," says
that grand old mentor, the Spiritual Combat, " to
be so zealous for the salvation of others as to
destroy the peace of our own souls. We may
have that ardent thirst for their illumination when
God shall please to give it to us; but we must
wait for it from His hand, and not vainly imagine
it is to be acquired by our solicitude and indis-
creet zeal. Let us secure to our souls the peace
and repose of a holy solitude; such is the will of
God, in order to bind and attach us to Himself.
Let us remain recollected within ourselves, till
the Master of the vineyard hires us."
Another characteristic of the Feast is charity^ ,
the queen of virtues, and the virtue of all others
most lacking just now. If we had charity, we
should have peace. We cannot acquire peaceful
zeal by direct efforts; the very struggle would
drive peace away. But charity is to be had by
struggling for it. This is encouraging, for it is
much easier to labor and fight for any object than
to wait until it be given to us. No amount of
waiting and praying for charity will ever make us
charitable. We must wait for it and pray for it,
indeed, but labor hard to get it all the while.
The virtue of charity includes love of God, love
of our neighbor and love of ourselves. We can-
not have the two last unless we have the first,
nor the first without the other two. We labor to
grow in love of God by trying to think often of
Him, and by making frequent sacrifices of our
desires and interests in order to please Him or to
promote His interests. Hence the value of special
devotions, for they add to our knowledge of God,
and set us to thinking of Him. Hence also the
worth of mortification, for all love demands self-
denial and self-sacrifice. That love of our neigh-
bor may increase in our souls, we must struggle
against our own innate and unconquerable selfish-
ness. Self can never be utterly conquered, but
charity must keep up a continual fight against it,
else self-love will completely overrule both love
418
Ave Maria.
of God and of the neighbor. If the battle is a
hard one, yet in one respect it is cheering, for its
victories are visible. In most spiritual acquire-
ments we are working in the dark, and can never
tell if we have made much progress. We cannot
be at all certain that we are advancing even in
love of God ; but in love of our neighbor every
degree gained is openly manifest. Thus, for in-
stance, Mrs. A is very zealous in works of
mercy. She lives only for the poor and the suf-
fering. Her alms are nourishing her own soul
meanwhile, for she is plainly more tender-hearted
to all, more generous in helping other people's
charitable enterprises, more joyous over their
success, more grieved by their failures, than she
used to be. We can remember when she was
rather cold and hard to all beyond her set sphere,
ready to see the defects in the good plans of other
ladies, chary of helping or praising them, lavish
in predictions of failure. She vexed people by
her narrow-mindedness. Now she annoys them
by her hopefulness, seeing good everywhere.
But this is only a proof that she has been increas-
ing in divine charity all this while. Mr. B is
devoted to intellectual good works. He would
press all the talent of earth into the service of the
Church. Formerly he was arrogant, dictatorial
and censorious in his zeal. Kow he is much
more tolerant of little deficiences and imperfec-
tions among his co-workers; sees their merits,
and rejoices in every new undertaking of the
kind. His zeal sprang from love of God and of
souls, and it is constantly developing this love in
his heart. On the other hand, we see numbers
whom we cannot, by any stretch of charity, class
with Mr. B or Mrs. A : literary folks, who
are more captious and critical to-day than when
they first undertook to do religion a service, and
alms-givers who are growing more hopelessly
narrow and selfish in their good works. In them
the battle is going against charity, self is winning
the day. That love of ourselves which is a branch
of divine charity also calls for a continual strug-
gle against the baser inclinations of nature. In
proportion to our love of our neighbor will be our
laudable love of ourselves. Here again the strug-
gle which seems most severe is also most inspir-
ing. Perseverance in any good work is very
hard to our fickle nature. We have to be charitable
and lenient to ourselves as regards our slow prog-
ress and tiresome mistakes, else we shall inevi-
tably throw up the good work in sheer disgust or
despair of success. If, then, we are striving to
regard the good projects and enterprises of others
in a large, hopeful. Christian spirit, we shall find
these efforts react upon ourselves in a most blessed
manner. So long as we rejoice over the amount
of service others are rendering to God, so long
shall we be joyous and persevering in our own
efi'orts to please Him. While we put a mild con-
struction on their faults and blunders, we learn to
bear with our own. Our hopefulness for them
makes us equally sanguine of our own success.
This law of our nature is most beautifully illus-
trated in our Blessed Mother. She seemed to doubt
the great promises of Gabriel. She asks, how can
this be done ? In proof that all things are possible
with God, the Archangel tells her that her cousin
Elizabeth has conceived in her old age. Mary then
yields her consent, the Incarnation is immediately
accomplished, and she goes in haste to congratu-
late her cousin. Alas, how little we, who boast of
being her children, study her example ! Mary had
become the Mother of the Desired of Nations ; the
part she was to act in the great work of Redemption
was so vast that even her intellect could not fathom
it. Yet she turns from the contemplation of this
to the marvel whicb God had wrought for St. Eliza-
beth. She goes to rejoice with her, to be of service
to her. She shows not only her charity but her exi
ceeding humility in so doing, and thus humility is
the third characteristic of the Visitation. Mary
did not think that the service she was doing to God
in giving Him the very Flesh through which His
designs could be accomplished cast all other ser-
vices into the shade. In her sweet, generous hu-
mility she made much of the share Elizabeth had
in the grand work of Redemption. Do we ever ask
our poor hearts the cause of their being so indiffer-
ent, if not actually hostile, to the zealous desires
and works of our fellow-Catholics? Why are we
so determined not to aid them, when perhaps the
aid we could easily give is the one thing wanting
to insure their success? In vain shall we seek to
shelter ourselves under the plea that if it be God's
work they are engaged in He can accomplish it
without our help. It may be His intention that we
shall help, and He lets us know this intention either
by His own secret whisper to our souls, or by the
suggestions or petitions to which we turn a deaf
ear. God could have sanctified the Baptist in his
mother's womb without the instrumentality of
Mary. Yet if she had not made her Visitation that
beautiful mystery would not have been accom-
plished. And thus it is ever in His adorable pur-
poses. No one, however high and holy, can ac-
complish aught for God without the aid of others.
And the one mark, more unerring than all others,
that a soul is near to God, is the joyous alacrity
with which it hastens, like Mary, to help in what-
ever way it can the work of His other servants.
— <•* .
Christianity maybe defined as the plan of God
for the union of man with Himself.— i^r. Dalgairns.
Ave Maria.
419
The Battle of Connemara.
BY GRACE RAMSAY.
CHAPTER II.— Continued.
"It's monstrous to think of eating and drinking
in face of such a scene as this," declared Mr.
Ringwood; "a man ought to live on the salt
breeze and the landscape. It is wonderful ! I never
beheld anything like it! "
" I am glad to see you strike fire at our rocks
and hills," said his host; "I was afraid you would
think it a barbarous sort of country,"
" To tell you the truth I did for the first two-
thirds of my ride. I never saw anything so
utterly bleak and desolate as the road between
the mountains on one side, and the valley full of
bogs and lakes and hills on the other ; but the intro-
duction only makes the delight of the surprise the
greater when the sea-view bursts on one ; I never be-
fore realized how grand the ocean was; the view
from here is positively sublime! What a pity the
country is so uninhabited! I expected to find a
rather large population in this district."
"And so you will, if you have a little patience,"
said the Colonel, pleased beyond measure at the
Englishman's enthusiasm ; " a population of beg-
gars, for the most part, to be sure^ you will not be
edified by their outward condition, I'm afraid ; but
if you have left your Saxon prejudices behind you,
and come prepared to see the good side of us,
you will discover a good deal to make up for the
want of fine raiment, and what you call, over the
water, the advantages of civilization. The fact is,
the peasantry about here are not civilized, as you
understand the word ; I won't shock you outright
at this stage by saying that they are all the better
for it; I leave you to make your own observations
on us."
"I assure you I have left my prejudices, if I
ever had any against Ireland, a long way behind
me," said Mr. Ringwood. "I am come fully ex-
pecting to find a great deal that is both interest-
ing and admirable among the people. As to their
backward civilization, though I don't pretend to
be radical in politics, or in anything else, I am
ready to set down a large amount of their moral
and material wretchedness to the iniquities of our
Grovernment."
" Then you will do both the Government and the
people a very great wrong," retorted the Colonel,
hotly; " there is no moral wretchedness amongst
us to impute to anybody, whatever there may be of
material misery; that's one of your mistaken En-
glish notions, my dear sir. You know something
of the wealthy manufacturing districts of Eng-
land : so do I ; well, I tell you that you will meet
with more vice, more drunkenness, more igno-
rance, more moral wretchedness of every descrip-
tion in any single street in one of those prosper-
ous towns, than you will find in the whole length
and breadth of Connemara. The people are poor,
but their poverty neither vitiates nor degrades
them ; they don't realize how poor they are ; they
are the hardiest and the heartiest race under the
sun, — the people who care least for their bodies of
any people on the face of the earth. Give them
a priest to say Mass for them, a bit of thatch over
their heads, a pig to pay for it, and a rood of po-
tatoes to feed them, and they are as happy as
kings ; they will never ask more — nor, what is more
remarkable, they will never envy those that have
more."
" You would scarcely find a political econo-
mist to endorse that eulogy — I suppose you intend
it to be a eulogy — of the condition of the people,"
said Mr. Ringwood.
"Political economy be hanged! you are be-
ginning at the wrong end of it altogether if you are
come over on that talk. What the devil do they
want with political economy ! " protested the
Colonel ; " you are setting the world upside down
with that sort of thing all over Europe. I don't see
that the people in other countries are so much the
better for your fine theories about progress and so
forth. Just wait a few days, and you will tell me
what you think of the Irish peasantry in this most
uncivilized part of the country. The men are
splendid fellows, and as to the women they have
not their equals on the face of the earth; the
women are peerless. You talk of moral wretched-
ness ! By Jove ! it would be a good thing for the
world if the morality of the women of Ireland
could be made the universal rule everywhere."
They had reached the house now, and saw Lady ■
Margaret^ looking for them from the window.
She had been waiting to pour out the tea. The
Colonel was anxious to have the meeting over, but
if he was at all uneasy as to the reception Mr.
Ringwood would receive. Lady Margaret quickly
put him at rest. Nothing could be more gracious
than her manner as she rose from behind her Pom-
padour cups and saucers, and held out her long,
slim hand to the man who was " not even a Hotten-
tot."
"Welcome to the wild West! I hope you have
not found the journey very intolerable?" she
said, smiling.
" I advise you not to press him too closely
on that score," broke in the Colonel ; " he and I
have nearly come to a row already; I shall
have hard work of it to set his crooked Saxon
mind straight before we let him loose, I foresee."
" That means that our guest's opinions concern-
J.V6 Maria.
ing Ireland and the Irish do not coincide with na-
tive ones. We shall be two to hold our own against
him, Mr. Ring wood," said Lady Margaret, with a
defiant nod at her husband.
" Then I am reassured," said the new-comer, with
the utmost gravity; " if the lady is on the right
side, the enemy is done for ; come on, Colonel ; I
am ready for you."
"Very pretty behaviour indeed!" retorted the
Colonel ; " the first thing you do on entering my
house is to set my own wife against me ! you call
that civilization, do you ? Eh!"
" Precisely ; the old-fashioned notions as to the
relations of husband and wife are quite out of
date ; the ladies are now having it all their own
way; they are to be in Parliament one of these
days. Are you making preparations with a view
to a seat at one of the coming elections, Lady Mar-
garet ?" enquired Mr. Ringwood, still speaking with
seriousness, as he took a seat by the low tea-table
in the window.
"Goodness defend us!" cried the Colonel, en-
sconctng himself in the big arm-chair and laughing
complacently at the notion of Peggy in Parliament.
"That would be * a day of wrath, a dreadful day,'
when the women appeared on the hustings ; may
Heaven deliver us from it ! in my time at any rate."
" So much for his general philanthropy, you per-
ceive," said Lady Margaret: ^'apres moi le deluge!
Now a woman would never say that ; we are more
disinterested — we think of the general good
first."
"Yes; I have generally noticed a proclivity to-
wards transcendentalism in lady politicians," re-
marked Mr. Ringwood, quietly.
" Ah ! now you are turning sarcastic ! " said
Lady Margaret; "I have a mind to spoil your tea
by over-sugaring it."
"All right; I knew how it would be! " said the
Colonel, in high glee; "you two will fall out be-
fore long, and then Ringwood will desert again,
and come back to me." But the allies protested
that they had not the remotest idea of a breach,
and would stand staunch by one another, making
common cause against Celtic impudence and
presumption.
Lady Margaret was agreeably surprised to find
how very easy it was to fulfil her heroic resolution of
being civil to the popish priest, who certainly jus-
tified Colonel Blake's assurance that the man was
a gentleman. His appearance struck her at once
as prepossessing, and his manners had the ease
and unconsciousness of a man who is well-born as
well as well-bred. Perhaps it went a long way to-
wards propitiating and disarming her that he was
not the least like any Catholic priest whom she
had ever seen. He had none of the round, child-
like familiarity of the Rev. Mr. Fallon, known far
and wide as Father Pat; he was rather tall than
middle-sized, thin without wearing that starved
look that offended her so much in Father Tim, the
the priest of Y , whom she met occasionally at
Lord B 's, some thirty miles off. Mr. Ringwood
was somewhere between thirty and forty ; he had
been considered a dandy in his Oxford days, and
even as a clergyman of the Church of England he
retained a reputation for elegance and fastidious-
ness which the puritanical portion of his flock did
not quite approve of, esteeming such foibles incom-
patible with the spirit of humility and unworldli-
ness that become a minister of the Gospel. Since
his conversion to the faith, and subsequent ordina-
tion as a Catholic priest, all this was changed ;
dainty linen, perfumery, etc., were banished; the
most rigid simplicity was now everywhere appar-
ent in his dress, his furniture, all that he used and
possessed ; but the original refinement which had
once made him so particular in all these respects
still remained, and betrayed itself in every tone
and movement, in spite of the severe plainness of
the priestly attire ; perhaps the absence of all ad-
ventitious help from without only made the native
distinction of the man more striking. Lady Mar-
garet thought she had never seen anyone on whose
every line and lineament the word " gentleman "
was more distinctly marked. What could have
induced such a man to leave his own Church and
profession, which meant his whole worldly pros-
pects, to cast in his lot with those Roman Catho-
lics! She felt sufllciently interested in him al-
ready to be exceedingly curious about it, and
mentally resolved that she would seize the first
opening for finding out the clue to this mystery.
Mr. Ringwood meantime was far from dreaming
that he was the object of such speculations. He
had not been the least overcome by Lady Mar-
garet's welcome ; it was only what any gentleman
had a right to expect ; he took it as a matter of
course, and felt quite as much at home with her
as his brother, Captain Ringwood of the Dragoons,
Colonel Blake's regiment, would have been if he
had come to stay under her roof. This brother
was the link between him and the Colonel, who
was very partial to the young captain, who was
also a Catholic.
Mr. Ringwood had travelled a great deal, and
had come in contact with a number of remarkable
men both at home and abroad, and as he was both
well-informed and intelligent he had plenty to
talk about, and he talked uncommonly well. He
spoke about Italy with a warmth of admiration
that kindled Lady Margaret's sympathy.
"I spent nearly two years there when I was
growing up," she said. " It used to be the dream
Ave Maii/i.
4^1
of my life in those innocent da5'S to marry an
Italian and live there altogether."
"And instead of that she fell to an Irishman,
and came to live half the year in Connemara!
Poor Peggy! " exclaimed her husband, heaving a
sigh, and shaking his head at her; "the lucky
thing for me was that she had not seen Conne-
mara; if she had, it would have been all up with
me; but I made her take the pig in a poke."
" Yes ; that was treacherous, was it not ? " said
Lady Margaret. "But I am bound to say the pig
did not turn out such a bad pig; I might have
gone farther, even to my beloved Italy, and not
fared much better."
" Humph ! ' much ' sounds complimentary," re>
torted her husband ; " but that is always the way
with my lady; she says a civil thing and then
takes you down a peg. Hold yourself prepared,
Ringwood."
"Thank you." Mr. Ringwood bowed and
smiled.
"Don't believe that, pray; it is a calumny,"
protested Lady Margaret. " I only practice that
system with conceited persons who require taking
down. In this country, unfortunately, I find con-
stant occasion for exercising it. May I give you
another cup of tea?"
The Colonel was going to enter a vehement pro-
test, but Burke, the butler, came in to say that one
of the tenants had come up and wanted to say a
word to his honor.
"Show him into the library," said the Colonel.
" Now you will have it all your own way," he con-
tinued, as he hauled up his large, Newfoundland-
like limbs from the depths of his roomy arm-chair ;
"you will have no one to contradict you, and can
abuse the noble people of Ireland to your heart's
content!"
" No, Colonel ; being strong, we will be generous,
and wait till you are present again to take their
part," declared Mr. Ringwood. The Colonel left the
room, and Lady Margaret found herself in the ex-
traordinary position of a tete-d-tete with a Catholic
priest in her own boudoir. The oddest part of the
thing was that she felt very comfortable, and quite
disposed to improve the opportunity, as if her com-
panion had been an ordinary mortal.
"This is the first time you have been to Ireland,
is it not? " she enquired, taking up her embroid-
ery with that air which makes a guest feel so thor-
oughly at home at once.
"Yes; this is my first visit."
" It is too soon to ask any questions ; besides, we
promised the Colonel to suspend hostilities while
his back was turned ; but I can't help wondering
what impression the country has made on you ; I
am always so curious to compare notes with peo-
ple as to their first impressions of Connemara."
" I assure you they are very favorable," said Mr.
Ringwood, frankly ; " I never saw a place which
at first sight gave me so many surprises, roused my
curiosity so much, in fact excited my interest as
this has done. But pray tell me where the popu-
lation is that I heard of. Is it a myth ? "
"No ; it really exists."
" But where ? In the clouds above the hill-tops,
or has it a local habitation and name ?"
"Yes, it has; but it is spread over an immense
area, and it has a way of hiding itself in thatched
boxes in covered spots along the slopes or under the
cliffs; you will find it out, however, very shortly."
" And where is the church ? the chapel they
call it here, I believe."
" You passed it on your way from Ballyrock,"
said Lady Margaret ; "though I dare say you would
not know what it was without being told ; it looks
more like a barn than a house of worship ; I be-
lieve they daubed a cross somewhere on the wall,
but it has perhaps got washed out by the rains."
" I remember seeing it ; that must have been
the chapel, a long white-washed edifice which, as
you say, I took for some sort of farm building ; I
thought it was a place for storing wood, or such
things, belonging to the house here. And the
people assemble there every Sunday in large
numbers?"
" Not every Sunday ; I believe they only have
service. Mass — that is — once or twice in a month ;
* Father Pat,' as they call him, is the nearest
priest, and he has a large congregation of his own
to look after, and can't come often ; then there is
' Father Tim,' who is fifteen miles off, in the op-
posite direction" — and Lady Margaret pointed
with her embroidery needle towards the Twelve
Piers—" but whenever a priest comes, no matter
where from, the people flock to the chapel from
great distances ; they think nothing of walking
fifteen or twenty miles to get Mass here; I see
them pouring down from the hills, climbing up
from the valleys, on my way to church. You have
not seen our church : it is a beautiful little edifice ;
pure gothic ; I hate every other style for sacred
purposes. We built this ourselves ; it was only fin-
ished last year. You must see it before you go."
" You have a resident clergyman ? " said Mr.
Ringwood.
" Yes, a very pleasant man ; the gentlemen call
him a jolly good fellow; he is not of the ascetic
type exactly ; but the fact is he must do something
with his time, and he has very little work here,"
added Lady Margaret, apologetically.
" His congregation is not a very large one ? "
" Not very."
Mr. Ringwood learned by-and-by that the said
4^2
Ave Maria.
congregation consisted of nine members, recruited
chiefly from the reverend W. Wilkinson's own
liousehold, with a contingent of three from the
Towers, namely Lady Margaret, Colonel Blake,
and her ladyship's maid. Wells, who was En-
glish, and the only Protestant servant in the estab-
lishment.
"Shall we go and take a walk?" said Lady
Margaret, abruptly, as the evening sun burst in a
pink flood through the bay window of the bou-
doir; "dinner will not be for an hour yet, and
you might make acquaintance with the park
meantime; but perhaps you are too tired after
your long ride?"
" Not the least," said her guest ; " I should en-
joy a walk before dinner exceedingly."
Lady Margaret left the room, and returned in a
few minutes with her bonnet on, equipped for the
expedition.
[to be CONTIinTED.]
The Visitation.
BT M. li. M.
How lovely the mystery claiming
Our praise and devotion to-day;
See ! Mary, most timid of virgins,
Hastes over the mountains away.
Her cherished retirement forsaking,
From Nazareth's cloister she flies;
The world, with its tumult and struggle,
las interest now in her eyes.
t
T^e Light of the World she is bearing
Upon His first errand of grace;
Omnipresence hath hidden within her,
And home seems no longer her place.
The Heart that beneath hers is throbbing,
Has fired it with exquisite pain,
She yearns o'er the sinful and fallen.
The conquests her Child has to gain.
Fond Mother! thy life-work beginneth,
But light is this earliest toil ;
Thy cousinly greeting hath driven
The evil one from a fair spoil.
To the Victor unborn thou presentest
His dearest and holiest prize ;
From touch of sin free, His Precursor
Shall to a high mission arise.
O Mary! this first Visitation,
With calm, holy gladness is filled.
While we muse on its memories peaceful
Each thought of disquiet is stilled.
The one feast amid whose rich brightness
No shadow of Calvary appears:
The feast-day of Jesus and Mary,
It harbors no sorrows or fears.
Louise Lateait.
A YISIT TO BOIS fi'HAINfi.
BY FRAKCES HOWE.
As the weeks passed on while we travelled slowly
northward, each day the resolution to visit Bois
d'Haine became more and more defined. The Srth
of August found us at Spires, the see of an ancient
bishopric. Its Cathedral is the St, Denis of Ger-
many, but it is not the tombs of emperors and kings
which form the chief interest of the Catholic trav-
eller, neither is it the beautiful architecture of the
sacred edifice, but the fact that St. Bernard there,
within its walls, gave utterance to that sublime
praise of the Mother of God: '■'O clemens! 0 pia!
O dulcis Virgo Maria !''^
But to us Spires presented another attraction, for
its present Bishop we had known when he was
Abbot of the Convent of St. Boniface, in Munich.
And not only did we anticipate a pleasant visit,
but we also hoped to obtain useful advice con-
cerning a visit to Louise Lateau.
We found his residence easily, but when we
arrived at the door we met the reception usually
given in Germany by those who serve ecclesiasti-
cal dignitaries. We were scanned from head to
foot, and, deaconesses no longer existing in the
Church, three ladies mean only three ciphers as
far as religious importance is concerned. Our
cards were scrutinized before our faces with a
cool impertinence, and if our appearance had
partially satisfied the porter that our social posi-
tion entitled us to pay our respects to his master,
our cards, being like the cards of anyone then
claiming the protection of the American flag,
utterly destitute of armorial bearings, he told us
without further Inquiry that at present the Bishop
was deeply engaged in his daily routine of duty,
which could not be interrupted, and that the
Bishop would not be free until two o'clock. Kow
two o'clock is precisely the hour of the depart-
ure of the Rhine steamer, usually preferred by
tourists to the railway, and as an ecclesiastic in
the Cathedral had informed us positively that the
morning was the time at which the Bishop was
free to receive visits, we were not to blame if in
our hearts we accused the porter of wishing to
rid himself of us by mentioning an hour at w^hich
it would be impossible for us to come. We may
have made a rash judgment; but be that as it
may, we relinquished the idea of the steamer, con-
cluding to avail ourselves of the railway train,
which left at a much later hour, and was far less
agreeable.
The porter seemed both surprised and vexed
Ave Maria,,
423
to see us when we returned at two o'clock, an
liour whicli was probably as inconvenient to the
Bishop as it had been to us. He did again at-
tempt to send us away, but finally our repeated
assertions that we were acquainted with the Bishop
seemed to make some impression on him, and at
last he did consent to carry up the episcopal
stairway the cards which he found so basely des-
titute of any tokens of nobility.
Our difficulties in this case arose from the general
ignorance of foreigners, and especially of Germans,
concerning that law of the United States which
withheld passports and consular protection from
those of her citizens who while travelling abroad
made use of any of the insignia of nobility. And
owing to this law, or to the general want of the
knowledge thereof in Europe, whichever you will,
the very passport that told the police that you were
not a vagabond, placed you in a very false light
as far as social rank is concerned.
The fortress once stormed, the outworks gained,
we found that Abbot Hanneberg had not in be-
coming Bishop Hanneberg lost any of that unaf-
fected simplicity of manner which had seemed so
charming in the modest, unpretentious reception-
room of that architecturally grand convent of St.
Boniface. He received us in that same manner,
despite the episcopal purple; the Bishop was still
the Benedictine, and the episcopal residence was
not half so dear to him as the less conspicuous
halls of his own convents in Munich and in the
picturesque outskirts of the Bavarian Alps.
The events of the time that had elapsed since
we last had seen him having been duly discussed,
we spoke of our desire to visit Louise Lateau.
He advised us to continue our Rhine journey as
far as Cologne, whence we might reach Belgium
in a few hours. Bois d'Haine, he informed us,
was in the diocese of Tournay, therefore it was
to the Bishop of that See we must apply for the
requisite permission. However, he added, if it
suited our plans better to go to Mechlin, the
Archbishop there being the Primate of Belgium
overruled the Bishop of Tournay, and that there-
fore his permission would be equally valid. Bring-
ing us maps, he showed us the relative position of
these three cities, Cologne, Mechlin and Tournay,
and in everything he exhibited the kindest in-
terest. But as he was not personally acquainted
with either dignitary he was unable to give us
any introductory letter ; but he encouraged us to
apply, saying that the Prelates of Belgium were
excessively kind and aflable, and that Catholics
from America — that missionary country — certainly
had claims on the Church of the Old World.
The hope that we would make a better impres-
sion on the Bishop of Tournay than we had made
on the porter of the episcopal residence of Spires
accompanied us throughout our subsequent jour-
ney, and we determined more firmly than ever to
fulfil our promise, which was now more binding
since we had learned so very accurately what to
do and where to go. We did not then know that
the rude conduct of the porter was simply the
commencement of that trial and humiliation, that
cross which we carried to the very threshold of
the Lateau cottage, and which did not desert us
until we were far distant from Bois d'Haine;
only the beginning, only a portion of that cross
which all must carry who wish to stand on this
modern Calvary.
We did not begin to have any conception of the
difficulties of the case until when, speaking on
the subject with the priest who occupies the con-
fessional "pro Anglica" in Cologne, he told us
that so many were the applications that only a
very small proportion of the applicants could
obtain admission to the tiny cottage ; and adding
that the chances of success were very few for
those who came unrecommended, he advised us
if we knew any source from which we could ob-
tain an introductory letter to apply for it immedi-
ately.
Aside from the promise which we had made,
we had a strong feeling that it was the duty of
every American Catholic to contribute his or her
mite to the multiform missionary work of the
New World, and that we should neglect no means
of making ourselves witnesses of every religious
fact in Catholic Europe that was within our reach.
And despite many obstacles, everything seemed
to arrange itself in accordance with our plans. At
the time that we arrived in Cologne it was late
in August, and we had before us that equinoc-
tial month of September, in which no landsman
wishes to be on the sea. In that month, which
this consideration impelled us to still spend in
Europe, we had ample time to make our applica-
tion, and, if successful, to visit Bois d'Haine.
We left Cologne the afternoon of September
2nd, the anniversary of the battle of Sedan — that
victory of Prussia which has given her that ter-
rible and unfortunate predominance in European
political circles.
European Protestantism and European infidel-
ity have learned from the Catholic Church many
an important lesson, and among them the neces-
sity of a joyful repose, — that necessity, familiarly
expressed by the time-worn proverb, "All work
and no play makes Jack a dull boy." While lay-
ing the corner-stone of their schemes for the des-
truction of Christianity, the infidel Governments
arrange the practical lessons which they have
learned from the Catholic Church according to
4U
Ave Maria.
the rules of their pagan philosophy. Wishing,
as they do, to win the people, they are too pru-
dent to reduce them to decorous rest taken every
seventh day, for they know that thus the task of
alienating the hearts of the people from the doc-
trines of the Church would be increased twofold.
Knowing this, they institute political festivals
which they intend shall eventually supersede the
holydays of religion. But skilfully as they may
mix their pill, they are omitting the important
ingredient, for which they substitute a virulent
poison. Keligious instruction — and, above all,
lifting up the heart to God in prayer — renders
what would be otherwise a waste of that precious
time given to us by God, not to amass wealth, but
to work out our salvation, a most beneficial light-
ening of the load of earning one's daily bread.
Political exultation, political rancor, beget noth-
ing save drunken frolics — and, what is far worse,
envy, hatred, and covetousness are exalted into
virtues when exercised on a nation whom a Gov-
ernment is pleased to style '* the enemy."
Such were the reflections that filled our minds
as we saw church and town-hall alike flaunting
the red, white and black of the new German Em-
pire, and the very suggestive black and white ban-
ner of Prussia with its vulture-like eagle. And
from the ancient Cathedral streamed the same
emblems of triumph, while hour after hour the
vaulted roof re-echoed the one loud sorrowful ap-
peal, "Let us pray for our imprisoned Arch-
bishop."
And yet, as if in mockery of that cry of distress,
the city Council had decreed that the term "gov-
ernment buildings " should include the churches,
and that they too must join in the external tri-
umph over the beginning of the downfall of Chris-
tianity in the German Empire under the title of
the "Deliverance of 1870."
We watched the city fade away from our vision,
as the train bore us westward, nearer towards one
of the many acceptable sacrifices of expiation for
these scenes of impiety, until the lofty towers and
the waving flags were no longer discernible, and
then we thought that we had left this exhibi-
tion of triumph ; but each village through which
we passed, each station at which the train halted,
repeated the same scene of fluttering canvas and
festive garland. At Aix-la-Chapelle the decora-
tions were as numerous and extensive as those of
Cologne, and Charlemagne's last retiring place
joined in rejoicing at the defeat of France.
^ Quite late in the afternoon the train arrived at Ver-
viers, and as the railway oflacial opened the door
of the coupe he informed us that all must leave
the train. " The Belgian frontier ? " we inquired.
The official replied in the affirmative; but there
had been no need to ask the question. For not
only were posts at the switches and holding the
signal lights, no longer painted in the funeral
black and white, and not only did the officials on
duty in the railway station wear a uniform strange
to us, but the railway buildings had no festive
decorations, and the general work-a-day plainness
told us that we were now in a country that did not
keep the humiliations of France in perpetual
and triumphant remembrance.
Letter from California.
Dear Ave Maria:— It w'as on the 25th of April, the
Feast of St. Mark the Evaogelist, that I met on board
the steamer "Los Angeles" his Grace the Most Rev.
Archbishop of San Francisco, in company with sev-
eral priests, on tfieir way to the city of Los Angeles
to assist at the consecration of its new Cathedral.
While passing through the "Golden Gate" the fog
was so thick that it prevented us from enjoying the
beautiful panoramic view there afforded by the sur-
rounding scenery and so much admired by strangers.
The steamer was inconveniently small, but the offi-
cers were so gentlemanly and kind that they made us
in a measure oblivious to the inconveniences of the
voyage.
On the morning of the 27th we had sailed nearly
400 miles and were approaching the modern town of
Santa Monica, on the seaboard. Here the cars were
awaiting us, and in little more than one hour's pleas-
ant ride we found ourselves entering the suburbs of
the City of the Angels, with the sweet aroma of thous-
ands of orange trees, now in bloom, scenting the air
with their fragrance. This exhilarated us, and one
could scarcely help saying '' Bonum est nos hie esse,''
—"It is good for us to be here."
You may imagine the scene on our arrival, pastor
meeting pastor and cordially shaking hands after a
separation of many years. There was good Bishop
Amat waiting to welcome the Archbishop and our-
selves, and so great was his pleasure at the meeting
with his august confrere and the reverend guests ac-
companying him that he seemed to forget his ad-
vanced age and sickness, and appeared, for the time
being, renewed with new life and vigor.
We had Friday and Saturday to look at the city and
visit friends, and it is needless to say that our first
visit was to the new Cathedral. It would take a bet-
ter pen than mine to describe this magnificent build-
ing, but, even at the risk of failing in the attempt, I
must endeavor to say something about it. While yet
at a great distance ofi" you may behold the massive
brick structure, with its tower rising majestically
above all surrounding objects. This tower is 125 feet
high, surmounted by a cross, and is situated at the
rear of the church. This latter is adorned with six
statues— St. Peter, St. Paul, and the four Evangelists,
Saints Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. These stat-
ues are six feet in height. The building, which is in
the Corinthian style of architecture, is 160 feet long,—
Ave Maria.
4^5
without counting the width of the tower— 80 feet
wide, and 50 feet high in the centre, but the fresco
worlc adorning the walls makes it appear much higher
than it really is. The building can seat 1,200 people.
There are three altars. In a niche over the main al-
tar are the relics of St. Vibiana, Virgin and Martyr,
placed in a rich urn; at the Gospel side is a hand-
some statue of St. Patrick; a statue of St. Emidius
adorns the Epistle side. The side altars are respect-
ively dedicated to Our Lady of Graces and her holy
spouse St. Joseph. The building is lighted by sixteen
double windows of stained glass, contributed by dif-
ferent parishes and by individual benefactors. A neat
iron railing with a handsome gate fronts the edifice.
The total cost of the building and decorations is
$75,000, all paid previous to the consecration, as you
are no doubt aware that no building of the kind can
be consecrated until it is out of debt. How such an
amount of money was collected in a city of 14,000 in-
habitants, and only 5,000 of these Catholics, is a mys-
tery; but, as a priest observed, the indefatigable la-
bors of the worthy Bishop and the patronage of St.
Vibiana no doubt went a great way towards supply-
ing the necessary funds for this beautiful temple of
God.
And now, before mentioning the ceremonies of ded-
ication, it may not be amiss to say a few words about
the Patroness of the Cathedral, St. Vibiana, about
whom so little is known outside of this diocese. In
the month of December, 1853, the Roman Commis-
sioners of Sacred Archaeology gave orders to have the
debris of the ruins in the Catacomb of St. Sixtus care-
fully examined. This Catacomb is now known by the
name of the Cemetery of Pretextatus, and is situated
to the left of the Via Appia, at a place called Bonflgl-
ioli, about a mile beyond the Gate of St. Sebastian.
The excavations brought to light an ancient en-
trance to the cemetery, now in a state of ruin, but
some marble slabs with their inscriptions had re-
mained intact, and bodies of martyrs were found,
with the vessels containing their blood still hanging
by their side. Among these was the body of our
St. Vibiana. In the niche at its left was a vase of
glass of a reddish color. A slab of marble inclosed
the tomb, on the removal of which the arch of the
grave fell in over the remains of the martyr. After
the rubbish was carefully removed it was observed
that the location of the head corresponded with that
where stood the ampulla with the blood. It was con-
jectured that she suffered in the third century, and in
the twelfth or thirteenth year of her age. The in-
scription reads as follows :
Anim^ Innocenti Adque Pudic^ Vibiane.
In Pace D. PR. K. St.
"The innocent and chaste soul of Vibiana was laid
down in peace on the 31st of August."
In the beginning of the year 1854 the precious re-
mains of St. Vibiana were exposed for public venera
tions in one of the churches of Rome, and many peti-
tions were presented to the Holy Father for her relics.
Rt. Rev. Bishop Amat, who had just been consecrated
Bishop of Monterey and Los Angeles, being then in
Rome, heard of the precious treasure, and in an audi-
ence granted him by the Holy Father he solicited the
relics for his diocese in the far West, and was granted
them on condition that a church would be dedicated
in her honor. Since then, our good Bishop has la-
bored strenuously towards the fulfilment of his prom-
ise to the Holy Father, and the 30th of April saw his
hopes realized and his labors crowned with success.
This brings us back to the ceremonies of consecration.
On Saturday the first Vespers were solemnly sung, in
the presence of the relics about to be inclosed in the
altar, and on Sunday morning the ceremonies of con-
secration began. It is needless to recount in detail
the various unctions incidental to the consecration, and
the successive incensings of the new altar. The cere-
monies of consecration lasted nearly six hours, from
8 o'clock a. m. to 2 p. m., when, the twelve crosses in
various parts of the church being anointed with
chrism and the altar-cloth blessed, the moment ar-
rived for beginning the first Mass at the newly-conse-
crated altar. This was pontificated by Rt. Rev. Bishop
Mora.
Rev. Father Buchard, an eloquent son of St. Igna-
tius, one well known on the Pacific coast for his un-
ceasing labors in the spread of Gospel truth, and justly
celebrated for his burning eloquence, delivered the
dedicatory sermon, after the Gospel, giving a full
and interesting explanation of the ceremonies of the
day.
Shortly after 4 o'clock Bishop Amat conducted his
guests to the dinner-table, where Most Rev. Arch-
bishop Alemany congratulated him on the success of
his labors and wished him many more years of life in
the vineyard of their Divine Master. Bishop Amat
arose to reply, but was so overcome with emotion
at the kind words of the Archbishop that he could
only find a few words wherewith to express his thanks.
After dinner all repaired to the Church of Our Lady
of the Angels, where an immense concourse was al-
ready assembled for the procession about to take
place in transferring the relics of St. Vibiana. The
procession started at six o'clock. It was headed by
the Mexican Brass Band, followed successively by the
" Children of Mary " from the school of the Sisters of
Charity, in number between two and three hundred,
all dressed in white; the "Children of St. Vibi-
ana," about one hundred in number; the Society of
St. Aloysius Gonzaga, boys, 50 in number; the An-
cient Order of Hibernians, 60 and over; the Catholic
Total Abstinence Society, 50 members, after which
came the processional cross, carried by Rev. F. Basso,
of Sant Inez Mission, followed by the Rev. clergy and
representatives from the Jesuit, Franciscan, Domini-
can, and Lazarist Orders, Rev. Father Buchard, S. J.,
of San Francisco, Very Rev. Father Romo, O. S. F., of
Santa Barbara, Rev. F. Lentz, O. S. D., of San Fran-
cisco, Revs, M. O'Brien, and M. Richardson, C. M., of St.
Vincent's College, Los Angeles. Then came the urn
containing the sacred relics. It was richly decorated,
and carried by four clergymen in alb and stole
namely Rev. J. Comapla, of San Buenaventura; Rev. M.
Mahony, of Watsonville; Rev. T. F. Hudson, of Gilroy;
and Rev. J. Adam, of Santa Cruz. After the sa-
cred relics came Most Rev. Archbishop Alemany and
426
•Ave Maria.
Bishops Amat and Mora, Bishop Amat in a carriage
on account of ill-health and consequent weakness.
There were thousands and thousands of spectators,
Catholic and non-Catholic, witnessing the ceremony.
After the procession reached the Cathedral the relics
were deposited in the middle of the sanctuary and a
most eloquent and impressive sermon in Spanish was
delivered by the Archbishop. The Te Deum was then
sung by the clergy, followed by solemn Vespers and a
sermon by Rev. Father Adam. The preacher took for
text the 28th chapter of Genesis, verse 17, applying
the words of Holy Writ to the temple of God in which
they were then assembled, which would be a place of
terror to the profane and evil-minded, but the gate of
heaven for good Christians. He spoke of the remains
of the Saint lying hid in the Catacombs for 1,500 years
before giving honor and glory to God in this holy
temple, where they would now through her interces-
sion obtain many graces for souls, and additional merit
for the day of general resurrection. Vale. A Pilgrim.
Jewish Reproach of Protestantism,
[From the London Jewish Chronicle.]
Take, for instance, the divinity of Jesus. All
Christendom, whether Catholic or Protestant, be-
lieves that Jesus was God manifest in the flesh, and
that Mary was His Mother. It is clear that if
Jesus is God, and Mary His mother, Mary is the
mother of God. And this is unhesitatingly ad-
mitted by Catholics. But talk to Protestants of
the mother of God, and they will be up in arms,
and cry blasphemy ! The inconsistency is clear.
The Reformation should have either denied the
divinity of Jesus or admitted that Mary was the
mother of God. It has done neither. Can this be
satisfactory to logic and conscience? Take an-
other instance. Catholics and Protestants both
admit the reality of the miracles recorded in the
New Testament. They further believe that those
miracles were performed by way of credentials in
support of the teaching enjoined by Scriptural per-
sonages. The conclusion is therefore clear that as
the performance of miracles in those days could
only have influenced those in whose days they
were wrought, and who either witnessed them or
heard of them from those who witnessed them,
the power of performing miracles must have con-
tinued in Christendom, since the necessity for
them was as great after the death of these person-
ages as it was in their days. And, indeed, the dis-
tinct promise was given to the followers of Jesus
that the power of working miracles would con-
tinue with them. Accordingly, the Roman Ca-
tholic Church has at all times performed miracles,
and claims to do so to this day. Thus the stigmata
of Louise Lateau are considered by the Roman
Catholics the elffect of a miracle. Thus the con-
version of the Jew Ratisbonne, in a trice, by the
appearance of the Virgin to him, is ascribed to a
miracle. Thus the appearance of the Virgin in
the grotto of Lourdes to some children is declared
to the faithful to be a miracle. But all these mira-
cles are rejected by Protestants as mere hallucina-
tions or frauds. On what grounds can the evi-
dence of those who witnessed these miracles be re-
jected and those recorded in the Gospels be main-
tained ? They both rest on the evidences of eye-
witnesses; and, considering the public manner in
which these modern miracles were perfoi*med and
the tests to which they have been subjected by
men who lack neither candor, knowledge, nor op-
portunities for investigating the subject, the bal-
ance of credulity is decidedly on the side of mod-
ern miracles. Surely, in those several cases of
canonizations, even in our days, the number and
credibility of the witnesses who testified to the
reality of the miracles performed by the relics of
the canonized saints are at least as great as those
of the confessedly illiterate early disciples of Jesus,
or the simple-minded women who acted such a
conspicuous part in the events which led to the
establishment of Christianity. Where is Protes-
tant consistency in receiving one set of miracles
and rejecting the other? And why, if Jesus was
really God, should not a piece of dough, if He
willed it, be transformed into His flesh, and a drop
of wine into His blood? Is it because after the
consecration the elements still present the same
appearance which marked them before the trans-
mutation ? Then what is the good of a mystery
admitted by Protestants the same as by Roman
Catholics, if it cannot cover such a phenomenon?
Is it more unreasonable to admit this mysterious
transmutation than to believe that three is one and
one is three ? The result of such comparisons, and
the reasoning based upon them, must be a shock
to the logic and conscience of many a thinking
Christian, and the alternative which forces itself
upon him is, either to decline believing all these
inconsistencies and incongruities taught by his
Church, and to admit that the Jews after all were
consistent when they refused credence to all those
statements upon which the structure of Christian-
ity is reared, or to admit them in their full length
and breadth, as does the Roman Church, and con-
sequently to embrace her. There is no way out of
this dilemma, and secessions from the Anglican
Church will continue, while the causes producing
them will be tolerated. Nothing but another re-
form, ending in an approach in the direction of
Judaism, can save Protestantism ; and the sooner
this new reform be undertaken, the better chance
will Protestantism have to preserve itself. If it
delays much longer, it may be too late. It may in
the interval have lost some of its leading minds
Ave Maria.
4^7
and there may not be sufficient earnestness, spirit^
uality, and intellect left to cope with the gigantic
eviL
Letter from Vermont.
Burlington, Vt., June 5, 1876.
Dear "Ave Maria":— Aware that you always love
to hear of the spread of our Lady's kingdom, I com-
municate to you with peculiar pleasure the extension
of the religious garden of our Lord in this slow to be
honored, but at last happily favored State. Our
Blessed Lord has just given us a religious community
all our own — dependent upon no other house— all our
own ! You are aware it is scarce twenty-three years
since this far-off part of the old Boston diocese
was erected into a separate See. We have our first
Bishop among us still. The Rt. Rev. L. de Goesbriand
has ever since his installation maintained Catholic
schools with assiduity. Both he and all his priests
feel the importance of this point. No Catholic child
has permission here to attend any secular school of
the city.
Our benign city and State educational boards tax
us for all the public Protestant schools. They, with-
out representation ,tax us, every head, from four years
up to eighteen. We pay the secular school extortioner,
and, nowise dismayed, we maintain our own schools,
taught by our own religious besides, and intend to,
by the help of God. We have in this our Cathedral
city (re-named by our Rt. Rev. Bishop upon the elec-
tion of the people, "The City of Mary," some years
since, and soon after ratified by the Holy Father) five
Irish- American schools taught by the Sisters of Mercy;
five French and English schools taught by the Sisters
of the Sacred Heart of Mary, and our Orphan Asylum
school by the Sisters of Providence; a pupilage of
eleven hundred or more, in charge of fourteen or fif-
teen religious teachers.
In September, 1874, our Very Rev. Vicar General
asked and obtained from the mother-house of the Sis-
ters of Mercy, Manchester, N. H., several Sisters as
teachers for our schools of tbe Cathedral parish, who
have given great satisfaction. In October of the same
year. Very Rev. Father Lynch commenced a convent
building for the Sisters. It has been finished the
present season, at a cost of about $15,000, and is lo-
cated just over the way, in the near neighborhood of
the Bishop's Cathedral. Father Lynch's convent is a
handsome building, and does credit to him and his
builders. The Sisters have moved in. To-day this
sacred home of religion was blessed, its altar and
chapel consecrated.
The altar is made of a variety of very handsome
marbles : The eff'ect is pleasing. Very sweet— we say,
looking upon it— very sweet for a convent chapel ;
and it is gratifying to us, that after so many years, our
native marbles, so beautiful in themselves, are at
length chosen to be thus consecrated to the worship of
Almighty God. To us it is a great beginning of good
things— things hoped for and promised. Our parish
schools we may expect to see advance, and the Sisters
of Mercy now being established among us, propose
soon — about the first of September, we believe — to
open in their new building, consecrated under the
title of " St. Patrick's Convent of Our Lady of Mercy,"
an academy for the higher branches of education.
On Pentecost Sunday, most religiously beautiful of
all, occurred our first religious profession by ladies of
Burlington. At High Mass, in the Cathedral of the
Immaculate Conception, the Rt. Rev. Bishop of Bur-
lington officiating, assisted by Very Rev. Thos. Lynch
and Rev. Wm. Murphy, received the profession of three
young ladies, novices of the Sisters of Mercy, who
have been here for some time as teachers — Miss Annie
Frances McManus, in religion Sister Mary Clare
Joseph, of Portugal, Me.; Miss Kate Elizabeth Yorke,
in religion Sister Mary Magdalene Louis, of Galway,
Ireland; Miss Julia Higgins, in religion Sister Mary
Joachim, of Rilshausey, Ireland. In the See of our
episcopal city we have planted, for our centennial tree,
our first independent religious house in the State.
Pray for us, and give expression to our joy for us, good
and dear Ave Maria. Our Ladies of Mercy receive
your journal, and, like pious souls in or out of the
world, like it very much. Always yours,
Marie Josephine.
Catholic Notes.
We are pleased to hear that the veteran mis
sioner. Rev. Father Damen, S. J., has entirely recovered
from his late severe illness and is again at work.
A correspondent corrects a mistake of ours in
placing the population of San Josd at a lower figure
than the reality; it should be between 15,000 and
16,000, ranking it second only to San Francisco.
A " Mrs. A. H. Dorsey," who has had trouble be-
fore the Courts of New York on account of a lawsuit
for debt, is not the Catholic writer, Mrs. Anna Harri-
son Dorsey, who resides in and is a native of Washing-
ington, D. C.
A nephew of Cardinal Merode, Prince Philip of
Arenberg, son of Prince Anthony of Arenberg and of
Countess Maria de Merode, has entered a seminary to
prepare for Holy Orders. His grand-uncle, the Capu-
chin monk, Charles of Arenberg, is well known by his
ascetic works.
A rich Maltese, Mr. Vincenzi Bujela, has founded
an orphan asylum capable of sheltering 50 poor orphan
girls, and has endowed the institute with an annual
rent of 25,000 francs ($5,000). The entire cost of the
building will amount to one million of francs (over
$250,000).
The corner-stone of a new Church, erected by
the Capuchin Fathers, was laid in Milwaukee, Wis., on
Sunday, June 18, by Very Rev. Father Kundig, Vicar.
General. Many of the Rev. Clergy of the city and
from other parts of the diocese were present, and the
imposing ceremonies were witnessed by a large con-
course of spectators.
Messrs. Dennis Hagerty, Joseph Sherer, Michael
Lauth, Paul Kollop and James Rogers made their relig-
^V6 Maria.
ious profession in the Congregation of the Holy Cross,
on the morning of the 23d of June, the Feast of the
Sacred Heart; and Messrs. Huge and Renkuss received
the holy habit as Brothers in the same Congregation;
the first is called Brother Prosper, the second, Brother
Pascal.
There are only three relics of St. Joseph still ex-
tant, namely: — his cincture, his wedding ring worn by
the Blessed Virgin, and his patriarchal staff. The cinc-
ture is in the parish church of Joinville, France. Rev.
M. Desmot, parish priest of that city, has lately pub-
lished a work in which the authentic documents con-
cerning the origin and conservation of this precious
relic are brought forward
Since the good religious, both Brothers and
Sisters, have been driven from the German schools, the
Protestant Pacdagogische Zeitung states that 15,000
children have to remain without any instruction
whatever; 150,000 more are taught by young and in
most instances unqualified females, and by half-grown
boys; and 200,000 children are occasionally occupied
by teachers of other schools.
We hear' that Rev. Father Joachim Adam, the
beloved pastor of Santa Cruz, Cal., well known to our
readers as the author of " Pilgrimages to Our Lady of
Monserrat," and " A Sketch of the Early Missions of
California," celebrated the 14th anniversary of his or-
dination on Trinity Sunday. Rev. Father Adam and
his assistant. Father Hawes, are hard-working priests,
and zealous friends of the Ave Maria.
Monsignor Colet, Archbishop of Tours, has pre-
sented the Church of the Sacred Heart with a cruci-
fix carved from the wood of a large branch of the haw-
thorn-tree planted by St. Francis de Paula. This
branch was torn from the tree by a recent tempest,
which visited the chateau of Plessis-les-Tours, in the
gardens of which St. Francis had planted the young
sapling on the occasion of his visit there, the saint
having been summoned by Louis XI, in order that his
prayers might avert the king's impending death.
As a relic of olden bigotry in' Maryland, the fol-
lowing, from the Maryland Gazette, Annapolis, of July
31st, 1646, will be read with interest now that intoler-
ance is again cropping up here and there throughout
the land: "Last Thursday the following persons
were executed here, Peter Ferry, Thomas Rigby and
James Carter. They all died as they lived, ignorant,
obstinate Roman Catholics, and at their desire were
put into their coffins and buried with all their clothes
and crosses and other religious trumpery about them.
The other four were reprieved by his Excellency.
These men were all English subjects taken on board
a French privateer, being volunteers in that service."
About the replacing of religious attendants in
the hospitals. Dr. Buernes writes as follows in the
Beutscfie Medicinische Wochenshrift (German Medical
Weekly.) "The movement to replace religious by
seculars in nursing the sick would not be a lasting
one, as we have foreseen and predicted already in an-
other place. The nursing of the sick is by no means
so attractive {verlockmd) that many should feel them-
selves called to it, and in case of epidemic and con.
tagious diseases the great want of suitable nurses
would by no means be satisfied. Besides this, the
faithful performance of their onerous duties would not
be beyond suspicion with a great many of the paid
nurses. The activity, faithfulness and perseverance
of religious communities occupied with the care of the
sick has on the other hand proved to be excellent,
both in peace and war, and is highly deserving of
praise.
Eight years ago only heathens could be found
in Sahara and Soudan, but not a single Catholic priest
or layman. Now 200 laborers, both priests and sisters,
are employed there in our Lord's vineyard. Catholic
education of youth is conducted in 29 institutions.
Bishop Lavigerie has established two colonies (vil-
lages) entirely peopled with young Christian Arabs.
Near these two villages, called respectively Saint Cyp-
rian and Saint Augustine, stands Saint Elizabeth's
Hospital, another testimony of apostolic zeal. Many
young Arabs, both male and female, embrace the
religious life, preferring to remain single. Seventy,
two Arabian youths are studying for the holy minis-
try in French seminaries. Ten missionary stations,
with three missionaries in each, are erected in the
midst of the infidels of the Kabyle country, in the
Sahara desert, and in Tunis, Christianity owes the re-
sults of these exertions to the divine precept: " Curate
et docete.^^ Upon the ruins of ancient Carthage, right
on the spot where St. Louis was buried, a chapel and
an orphan asylum are being built in his honor.
Ninety-one years ago Father Carroll set down the
Catholic population of the United States at twenty-five
thousand, and he may have fallen short of the real num.
ber by about ten thousand. In 1808, when episcopal
sees were placed at Boston, New York, Philadelphia,
and Bardstown, the Catholic population had increased
to about one hundred and fifty thousand. In 1832
Bishop England estimated the Catholics of the United
States at half a million ; but in 1836, after having given
the subject greater attention, he thought there could
not be less than a million and a quarter. Both these
estimates, however, were mere surmises; for Bishop
England, who always exaggerated the losses of the
Church in this country, not finding it possible to get
the data for a well-founded opinion as to the Catholic
population, was left to conjectures or to arguments
based upon premises which, to say the least, were them-
selves unproven. The editors ofjthe Metropolitan Cath-
olic Almanac for;i848, basing their calculations upon^the
very satisfactory returns which they had received from
the thirty dioceses then existing in the United States,
set down our Catholic population at 1,190,700, and this
is probably the nearest approach which we can make to
the number of Catholics in this country at the time
the great Irish famine gave a new impulse to emigra-
tion to America. From 1848 down to the present day
the increase of the Catholic population has been very
rapid, it having risen in a period of tweny. eight years
from a little over a million to nearly seven millions.
The third revised edition of Schem's Statistics of the
World for 1875 gives 6,000,000 as the Catholic popula-
tion of the United States, and the American Annual Cy.
Ave Maria.
clopcBclia for 1875 reckons it as more than 6,000,000; and
from a careful consideration of the data, which, how-
ever, are still imperfect, we think it is at present prob-
ably not less than 7,000,000.— TAe Catholic World.
Approbation of Right Rev. Bishop Amat.
Santa Cruz, June 7, 1876.
I very cheerfully recommend the " Ave Maria "
to Catholic families in this Our Diocese, and would
like to see it read both by old and young people.
It will bring devotion and love for Our Blessed
Mother into the hearts of the faithful, a pledge of
eternal happiness.
4- THADDEUS, C. M.,
Bishop of Monterey and Los Angeles.
New Publications.
The Catholic World this month has special fea-
tures of interest, it being the Centennial number. A
sonnet by Mr. Aubrey de Vere, the Catholic Tennyson,
entitled " The Centenary of American Liberty," appro-
priately takes the lead. The other articles, all able and
opportune, are as follows: II, The Catholic Church in
the United States, 1776-1876; III, A Frenchman's View
of it; IV, Letters of a Young Irishwoman to Her Sister;
V, The Typical Men of America; VI, Catholics in the
American Revolution; VIE, The Irish Home-Rule
Movement. By A. M. Sullivan, M. P. ; VIII, Sir Thomas
More; IX, The Transcendental Movement in New Eng-
land; X, Charles Carroll of Carroll ton; XI, The Puri-
tan Sabbath and Catholic Sunday; XII, The Eternal
Years; XIII, New Publications.
The Catholic Publication Society has just is-
sued a people's edition of Cardinal Manning's admir-
able book, " The Glories op the Sacred Heart."
This edition is printed from duplicate plates, made in
London, the proofs of which were revised by Cardinal
Manning himself. 1 vol., 16mo., cloth, price 75 cents.
Received. — From B. Herder, St. Louis, Mo.,
" Dr. Joseph Salzmann's Leben und Wirken."
Death of the Bishop of Havana, Cuba.
Monseiior Apolinar Serrano of Diaz, Bishop of San
Cristobal de la Habana, died suddenly at his Episcopal
residence at Havana, on Thursday, June 15, of yellow
fever. Monseiior Serrano was born at Villaramiel, di-
ocese of Palincia, Spain, on the 23d of July, 1833. He
made his ecclesiastical studies in his native land, and
in due time was ordained priest. On the 23d of Sep-
tember, 1875, he was appointed by the Holy See to ad-
minister over the Diocese of San Cristobal de la Ha-
bana, which had been for a long time without a Chief
Pastor. Monseiior Serrano shortly after his consecra-
tion repaired to his cathedral of San Cristobal, famous
for its moss-covered walls, and as the resting place of
the great discoverer of America. Here he set himself
immediately to work, and soon found his way into the
hearts of his people. He was indefatigable in his la-
bors. He gave conferences (or Missions as we would
call them) in many parts of his diocese, and made ev-
ery effort to raise the moral standard of his people, to
soothe existing troubles, and to ameliorate the condi-
tion of the African population.
He succeeded in enlisting the sympathies of his en-
tire clergy, and of the majority of the laity in this latter
object. General education, likewise, claimed his at-
tention. Free schools began to be established at dif-
ferent points, and at Jesus del Monte a Catholic pro-
fessor and his wife established a school for adults,
where whites and blacks, at different hours, received
gratuitous instruction. Catechetical instruction also
claimed the attention of the worthy Prelate, and he
had so far succeeded in his efforts as to secure the as-
sistance of some of the ladies and gentlemen of the best
families on the island in the Sunday-school. The Hav-
anese were just beginning to think better of their
clergy and of religion; they began to realize that they
had a live Bishop amongst them when that fearful
scourge of the Antilles came upon the Prelate they
were only beginning to know and to love, and struck
him down in the flower of his life, and in the height of
his usefulness. God^s ways are not our ways, and the
Habaneros must bow to His holy will with resigna-
tion. But they will pray for good Bishop Serrano, and
his clergy, awakened from their lethargy, will continue
the good work which he inaugurated. — Requiescat in
Pace. — N. Y. Freeman s Journal.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report for the Week Ending June 17th.
Letters received, 110. Applications have been made
as follows: For membership, 159; Health, 72 persons
and 4 families; Change of life, 14 persons and 3 fam-
ilies; Conversion to the Faith, 18 persons and 3 fam-
ilies; The grace of perseverance for 3 persons, and of a
happy death for 6, who are in a very precarious state
of health ; Graces^ for 7 priests, for 6 religious, for 3
clerical students; Religious vocation for 2 persons;
Temporal favors for 20 persons, 7 families, 4 commu-
nities, 2 congregations, and 6 schools ; Spiritual favors
for 15 persons, 5 families, 4 congregations, 5 com-
munities, 5 day-schools, 1 Sunday-school and 1 asy-
lum. Particular intentions specified:— Some wayward
children,— Recovery of mind,— Resources very much
needed,— Some pending lawsuits,— Success of a mis-
sion,—A class of First Communicants,— One insane
person who has already attempted suicide,— Mainte-
nance of a position, — A temporal favor for a convert,
and amicable settlement with his relatives.
favors obtained.
The following accounts of most remarkable favors
are from letters received during the week: '* The Rev.
gentleman for whom I asked prayers recovered his
mind; all attribute it to the intercession of our
sweet Mother, Mary." ... "A young lady (Protest-
ant) whose name I sent sometime since, has much
JfSO
*Ave Maria.
improved in health after using the Lourdes water.
Lately she asked me for a painting of the Sacred
Heart of Jesus, to put it in her watch, so. that she
might have it near her. She is most favorably in-
clined, as is also her mother. God grant that they
may be one day of the one Fold and Faith." ... "I
have seen a woman who was given up by the doctor,
who only gave her fifteen minutes to live. She had
convulsions, but the very moment she took the
[Lourdes] water she was cured, and is living yet.
A little girl was very ill with inflammatory rheuma-
tism, so ill that she could not find rest at any time.
As soon as the Lourdes water was applied to her she
got well, and was running about the yard the next
day." , . . "PJease return thanks to our Blessed Lady
in behalf of a man much afflicted with hemorrhage;
the doctor and priest thought he could not live.
After using the blessed water he got well. He has
had but two slight hemorrhages since, and that is
now nearly a year ago. He says he is now as well as
ever, and able to attend to his daily labor." .... "A
year ago I had my brother enrolled in the Association^
He did not go to Mass at all; now he goes every
Sunday."
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: James McGin-
Nis, of Rome, N. Y., who died on Ascension day.
Mrs. Elizabtfh Rignet, mother of Rev. P. S. Rigney,
assistant parish priest of St. Mary's Church, N. Y.,
who departed this life on the 3rd of June, in the 76th
year of her age. Mrs. Elizabeth Trainor, of Wash-
ington, Kan., whom death relieved of her sufferings
on the 7th of May. Raphael Smith, of St. Patrick's,
Daviess Co., Ind., and Cornelius Cain, of the same
place, who was shot accidentally a few weeks ago; the
latter lived long enough to receive the last rites of
the Church. Mrs. Theresa Muth, of Baltimore, Md.,
who was called away from a devoted husband and
seven small children. She died on the 29th of May.
Mrs. Mary Murphy, who died at her residence in
Thomastown, County Kilkenny, Ireland, on the 29th
of May, 1876. Mr. Thomas Handley, who died sud-
denly at Santa Cruz, Cal , on the 5th of May. after re-
ceiving the last Sacraments. Miss Mary Kelly, of
the same city, a "Child of Mary," who died a most
happy death on the 9th of June.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Director.
Purity of heart is nothing else than the impress
of divine beauty. — 8t. Gregory of Nyssa.
How many are the souls in distress, anxiety, or
loneliness, says Dr. Newman, whose one need is
to find a being to whom they can pour out their
feelings unheard by the world! Tell them out
they must; they cannot tell them out to those
whom they see every hour. They want to tell
them and not to tell them ; and they want to tell
them out, yet be as if they be not told ; they wish
to tell them to one who is strong enough to bear
them, yet not too strong to despise them; they
wish to tell them to one who can at once advise
and can sympathize with them; they wish to
relieve themselves of a load, to gain a solace, to
receiye the assurance that there is one w^ho thinks
of them, and one to whom in thought they can
recur— to whom they can betake themselves, if
necessary, from time to time, while they are in the
world.
Chilbren's Department.
Our Lady of Perpetual Help.
(Concluded.)
How dull she was ! How wise she thought herself
at nineteen years ! There, plain before her, centre
and heart of all that place, rose the sacred shrine
where, in silence and utterly unadored by her,
the Divine Heart was beating, before which every
knee but hers bent low. There stood the altar,
where every morning the tremendous Sacrifice
was ofi'ered, and every morning sorrowing souls
were fed upon the Lord Himself by His own
hand. There was the confessional, its step hol-
lowed by the knees of those who knelt there and
laid at the feet of the Lord Himself the burden of
their sins. There, in full view, rose the cruci-
fix, with the patient, suffering Form upon it, al-
ways before the people's eyes. And yet one
named by His own Mother's name stood there
and weighed with her light, shallow judgment the
passionate devotion of centuries, — dared, standing
apart from all, and comprehending scarcely any-
thing of it, to pick out from it the one point which
to her seemed most distasteful and most glaring,
because in lier wilful ignorance she made of a
part the whole, and had never penetrated one iota
into the awful mystery which is as a key to other
mysteries in God's mysterious Church. "Hail
Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee."
" The dame had looked at the eager speaker as
if she did not grasp her meaning, but Marthe
spoke out as she had never done before; spoke
low in the sacred place, but with a holy passion
in her voice:
"We cannot talk like you," she said, "but we
believe, w^e poor. She helps the poor who ask
her, they know. Tell her, ma tante, tell her of
Matthieu."
The aunt led them to the high altar, knelt low and
crossed herself and pointed up. "Behold," she
said, "the crucifix."
Above the slirine, Mary's eyes rested on a crucifix
of native wood, somewhat rudely carved, but with
that about it — a reverence in the hand that wrought,
a fervor in the heart that conceived it — which awed
her very soul. Before the head bent back, the
strained and ceaselessly pleading eyes, the arms
that she felt quivering with their ceaseless awful
burden, Mary shrank with a heartache she had
never felt before. In silence they came away, and
sat down on a bench within the porch.
" Four years ago," the woman said, " my Mat-
thieu came home from sea. Day and night had I
been here for him, day and night prayed well, but
when he came he was no more man Matthieu. He
did not love Our Lady, nor go to church, nor seek
the Sacraments. He had no faith. It broke my
heart at last, for he went to sea again without a
prayer. My boy, my only one !
"Then it was no more day or night, but every
hour, I prayed ; no more that he might have money,
or a happy home, or a good wife; only that he
might live to find God once again. Notre Dame de
Bon Secoiirs, priez pour nous. Etoile de la mer, priez
Ave Maria.
431
pour nous. But, most of all, Refuge des pecheurs,
priez pour nous.''''
She paused as if she had forgotten to-day in yes-
terday. The words had been simple, yet, seeing
the face that spoke tliem, could Mary comprehend
nothing of the reality of faith whereby all earthly
goods had been as dross to this mother, compared
with her only son's immortal soul ? But she passed
it by unnoticed, in the thought of the words, which
to her seemed strange.
" He came again," the mother said at last. " He
came back, pale and sick, but oh, his heart was
worse. He would do nothing for that ; not see the
Cure^ nor hear of Sacraments. But he loved me
still, and so he did one thing for me. He let me
kneel down every day beside his bed and say those
three prayers for him. Only those. I never said
8ante des infirmes^ priez pour nous. I could not.
Only to get him back for God, then see him die,
then give him up to God— ah! that was all I
asked. It was enough.
"And by-and-by he said it too. I heard him
whisper low, more low than the wind here in the
tree, but a mother's ear hears everything, 'Refuge
des pecheurs, priez pour nous.'' And then I brought
the Cure. And dying day by day — a slow, slow
death, my boy made the crucifix. He finished it
the day lie died; I laid it on his bier, and so we
went to church and offered it, mon Matthieu once
more, and I. No tears that day ; it was our day de
votees, our day of thanks."
This was all. Marthe, glancing timidly at
Mary's face, saw no change upon it, though she
was too tender-hearted to trouble the old woman.
But as soon as they were out of her hearing she
exclaimed: "Say nothing, Marthe. I believe pre-
cisely as I did before. Nothing could change
me." And she never thought of what the words
implied, "Then I brought the Cure.'' She had
no line by which to fathom the reason for which
a dying man had spent his dying hours to carve
a crucifix for a thank-offering. One thing_ alone
she chose to take, and dared to criticize, in this
matter of life and death.
By sunset all was changed. Even Marthe had
quite forgotten, in the gayeties of Duclaire fair
and market, the morning's serious thought. Mary
Marknay's life had been a bright one, but those
hours in Duclair, as they went dancing by, seemed
to her the gayest she had ever known. With her
two brothers, who had never yet thought any girl
so dear or fair as their own sister, hovering round
her on constant, proud, contented guard; with
Marthe to explain everything and take them
everywhere, she felt like a queen in disguise, out
for a brief, glad holiday. The river was alive
with boats, the streets with merrymakers from all
the neighboring towns, and no one was gayer
than the happy four who wandered at their own
light will, stopping to see the shows at every
corner, and laughing over the menagerie and
puppets and comic balloon ascensions as if they
were children again.
At night the whole town was illuminated, and
fireworks heightened the brilliant effect; and
down by the water's edge they watched the weird
reflection of the flashing rockets, and listened to
the music that rose and swelled and died away in
ecstasy upon the night air. And though the next
morning was cloudy, with fitful gusts of wind, it
did not mar their pleasure; and at noon they
stood beside their boats, and grieved to think such
sport must end.
A fisherman stood near them. He said some
words to Marthe in an odd patois which they
could not quite understand. " We cannot go by
boat," she exclaimed. "It is la vive eau that
comes."
La vive eau! Mary and her brothers looked a
delight which to Marthe was incomprehensible.
They had heard and read much of la harre, the
wall of water, high as a tall man, and driven at
times by a west wind up the river, sending a
thundering sound half an hour before it to warn
the people of its approach. They knew that at
Quilleboeuf it was dangerous, but Duclair was
miles distant from Quilleboeuf, and, besides, this
was not the true barre. They came of five genera-
tions of sailors, these Marknays, and often they
had talked of what glorious sport it would be to
race with la barre along the Seine ; and now, in
a measure, the opportunity was theirs. Quick as
thought the boys were at their oars, and Mary was
in the stern.
" Come, come, Marthe," they called impatiently.
She stood aghast. " Oh, come back," she cried.
" You know not — "
"Yes, we know," Ralph shouted. "This is not
QuilleboBuf. There is no danger. We can keep
ahead. Why, Mary, she is not coming!"
Mary was wild with the excitement of the past
few hours. "We shall never have such a chance
again," she said. "O Marthe! how foolish of
you," and the boat sped away.
Off like a dart, wind and wave in its favor, the
roar behind them sounding only like a trumpet
of defiance to spur them proudly on ; off", and the
boys' stout hearts fancied that their arms could
never weary, and Mary steered perfectly, and
laughed and sung. But the river, which had
seen full many a mad race in its day, had seen few
more reckless, more dangerous than this.
One merry mile in safety; then — without warn-
ing— with a sharp, unmistakable turn — the wind
veered from west to south, seemed to poise itself
with a lull that sent a terror through the rowers,
then turned due east, and straight against the tide.
Ralph and Ned had rowed on American and Eng-
lish waters often, and had known tough work there,
but none like this, and they knew their fear had
reason. But Mary's eyes shone bright. " Oh, isn't
it grand!" she cried.
Grand ! She had hardly said the word when a
white-crested wave swept over them, drenching
them, and filling the boat half way ; then left them
to the merciless wind and tide, that struggled
against each other like human creatures wrestling
for a prize. Another wave, and another, the squalls
hurling the white foam backward, but the black
mass of water beneath always advancing in triumph.
It was grand still, but with the grandeur of ap-
proaching death.
Mary had thought of death sometimes, but never
after this fashion, — life so strong within her, the
safe green banks of the'Seine a stone's throw from
her, people hardly out of call. Only a short two
hours ago, music and dance and laughter ; and now
the waves gathering and breaking, and the wind
roaring, and nothing — nothing else. And with a
chill of horror, she became aware that she was
humming over and over, mechanically :
"Faut jouer le mirliton,
Faut jouer le mirliton,
Faut jouer le mirliton,
Mir-li-ton."
"See there," Kalph said, low; and, looking, she
saw the largest wave of all, some distance still away,
but coming steadily. Her hand dropped off the
rudder, her head sank to her knee. Oh! for one
word of prayer instead of that song which she felt
powerless to drive away.
As utterly without her own volition as the song
had come, there rose to her lips the cry: ''■Notre
Dame de Bon Secours,pruz pour nous.''^ With her
whole heart she repeated it. Riglit or wrong, slie
thought of neither, waiting breathlessly to hear the
great wave strike.
"Lucky chance for us!" It was Ned's voice,
and Mary raised her head and looked once more.
B^ a lucky chance the wind had veered again, veered
completely so as to match the tide, and the boat was
driven and wedged into a sheltered nook, where it
lay, quite useless, but quite safe. Mary's face was
pale, and her eyes looked strange and awed — but
that was natural after such a fright, the boys
thought.
They brought her home to her aunt's arms, to
her aunt's rare tears, and caresses of such tender-
ness as Mary had never known from her before ; but
she hardly answered them, hardly spoke, till the
anxious maids having done for her all they could,
she was left alone with Miss Marknay. Then she
said slowly, "Aunt Mary, I am a Catholic."
"My dear! when! where!" Miss Marknay
looked as if she feared the fright and exposure
had affected her niece's brain.
" I don't mean that,'" said 3Iary. Not that I have
been baptized. But I believe."
The voice was perfectly steady, and the face — ah,
the tears rose again as Miss Marknay looked at
the altered face. She knew that the struggle on
the river had been one wliicii she ought not to
desire should have little meaning to her Mary,
and yet she grieved to think that the sweet care-
lessness of nineteen years was at an end.
" I do not understand much," Mary went on, still
more slowly. "Nobody ever taught me much.
But I know they say that Catholics believe the
great things that Protestants do, and the trouble
is that they believe more too. And Protestants
say we must not pray to Our Lady, and need not;
and I said I would not; but, when the waves
came, I could not think of any prayer at all, and
who made me say, " Notre Dame de Bon Secours,
priezpour nous ? " And when I said it— I that did
not mean to say it— God saved us. I do not un-
derstand, but I am a Catholic."
Miss Marknay made no answer. Some words
were in her mind as her eyes rested on a crucifix
upon the wall : " There stood by the Cross of
Jesus His Mother." Miss Marknay folded her
wrinkled hands. " Sleep now, my dear," she said,
gently. And while Mary slept, her aunt thought
and prayed.
For twenty summers she had gone in and out
among these people, learning constantly that
what she had called errors once had much in
them which she herself was obliged to confess to
be reasonable, historical, and holy; for twenty
years she had heard it proclaimed solemnly and iin-
falteringly that this Church was God's true and only
Church, and that her place ought to be in it ; and
for twenty years she had put the question by, with
mild and courteous indifierence, never once mak-
ing it a matter of life and death. She had been
content and sure in her own faith. Suppose she
awoke presently, too late, and found the other
true?
When it was known at home that Mary Mark-
nay had become a Catholic, people said: "Ah,
well, we told Captain Marknay so. This comes of
letting one's daughters go to Catholic countries.
However, she is only a girl, not twenty yet; of
course it is a mere matter of sentiment. And
then, having been abroad so short a time, she has
not found out the real errors of the system."
Her parents themselves, reading her simple
letter telling them of what had passed, said that it
was only excitement, and that she realized nothing
about it: but they did^not interfere with their chil-
dren in regard to religion.
But when, later, the tidings came that Miss
Marknay was a Catholic also, people looked star-
tied at first, then, collecting themselves, remarked :
"Sixty years old! Well, we thought her aged
when she came for Mary— not so bright — a little
childish in fact. And then she has lived so many
years in those Catholic countries that she has
grown accustomed to the errors."
But what people said mattered little to the aunt
and niece whom Our Lady of Perpetual Help had
led home to God.
In a little church beside the sea, the mariners
and wives and mothers still hang their votive of-
ferings; and tapers burn, and flowers are fair; and
among these constant tokens of thanks to God
shine a Norman cross and chain of heavy gold,
the gift of one who after peril on the water found
a quiet haven. Mary Marknay has brought from
Normandy better things than these for heirlooms
— a peace in that reviled, triumphant Church
where Creeds and Sacraments, and she with whom
the Lord is, lead His children unfailingly, unfal-
teringly, nearer and nearer to the Sacred Heart of
Jesus.
All Anecdote of Pius IX.
An anecdote appears in one of the Roman papers
about the Holy Father. The occurrence is not re-
cent, but as it is little known it will be new to most
of our readers, and will deepen their love and ven-
eration for the Holy Father. A Freethinker once
accompanied a devout Catholic family to an audi-
ence of His Holiness. When they knelt to ask his
blessing, the infidel stood upright. The Pope said :
" My son, have you nothing to ask of me ? " " No,
your holiness, nothing." "Have you a father?"
"Yes, your holiness." " And a mother ? " "No,
your holiness, she is dead." "Well, then," said the
Pope, "I have something to ask of you: it is that
you kneel down here with me and join me in say-
ing a Pater and Ave for her soul." The Pope knelt
down by the side of the young man, who for very
shame could not do less; he repeated the words
after the Holy Father, but his utterance was soon
choked by convulsive sobs, and he left the audience
bathed in tears, the first fruits of the holy life he
ever afterwards led.
A child without innocence is a flower without
fragrance. — Chateaubriand.
nr T_j XT'
AVE MARIA.
Henceforth all genei\a.tions shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., JULY 8, 1876.
No. 28.
Our Lady of Poland; or, The Virgin of Czes-
tochowa.
BY THE AUTHOR OF " TYBORNE," ETC., ETC.
Far away from the well-known and frequented
parts of Europe, in a spot seldom if ever trodden
by the adventurous foot of a British or American
tourist, is a wonderful shrine of our Lady. There
she has loved and still loves to manifest her mirac-
ulous power, and there for long centuries, even to
the present day, has gone up before her the cry of
her faithful children.
This shrine of our Lady is in poor, forgotten,
persecuted Poland.
It is an old tradition that St. Luke the Evangel-
ist was an artist, and painted the likeness of the
Blessed Virgin; several places lay claim to the
possession of the only painting of tliis kind, but it
is most probable the holy artist made more than
one picture, grieved perchance that his pencil
could but produce a faint shadow of the celestial
beauty of the face he was copying.
It seems, however, that a picture painted by St.
Luke is certainly to be found in Poland. It is on
cypress- wood, and is said to be part of the table on
which the Holy Family took their simple repast.
The beautiful and touching tradition goes on to
say that after our Divine Lord ascended into heaven,
and His Mother was left alone on earth, a number
of holy virgins gathered round her and dwelt in
her company. They were anxious to possess her
portrait, and at their request St. Luke undertook
the task. This picture was guarded by the com-
munity as their greatest treasure, and survived all
the woes of Jerusalem until the time of the Em-
press Saint Helena. In her days, a community
descended from the first servants or companions
of our Lady was in existence, and on them the
Saint poured many benefactions. In gratitude,
they gave her their greatest treasure, the true por-
trait of Mary, and St. Helena sent it to the Emperor
Constantino. He placed it in a church in Con-
stantinople, where it remained for five centuries,
being treated with extraordinary honors. It was
covered with a rich curtain, and, marvellous to re-
late, every Friday, after Vespers, this curtain was
withdrawn by invisible and angel hands, and
covered again in the same manner after the Ves-
pers of Saturday. Many suppose that from this
circumstance arose the pious custom of keeping
Saturday in honor of our Lady.
In Constantinople the picture was miraculous,
and greatly revered. The Emperor Nicephorus
gave it as a present to Charlemagne, and he in his
turn gave it to the Russian Prince Leon.
Prince Leon placed it in his castle of Belz, where
it remained, held in great veneration, for five cen-
turies. The King of Polajid having conquered
the castle, placed over it a Polish governor named
Prince Ladislas. During his rule, the Tartars
made several invasions, and on one occasion they
shot an arrow against the holy picture, which
struck it in the neck. But our Lady put forth
her power : a sudden darkness fell on the barba-
rians, and they fled in wild disorder. Ladislas,
however, uneasy for the future, resolved to trans-
port the holy picture to some place of safety; but
he found it impossible to move it. Struck by
this miracle, the pious prince threw himself on
his knees and vowed to leave the picture where-
ever he should know it was God's will to place it.
Then he found he could move it easily. When
the guardians of the treasure arrived at the moun-
tain of Czestochowa, also called the Luminous
Mountain, on account of its beauty, the cart which
contained the picture became immovable. Ladis-
las obeyed the sign, and hastened to build a church
and monastery, where the picture should be
guarded. He established a community of monks
of St. Paul the Hermit, and the spot soon became
a favorite place of pilgrimage. Many rich ex-wtos
43Jj.
Ave Maria.
were bestowed upon the slirine, and for this reason
the Hussites in 1430 cast their covetous eyes upon
them and determined to make them their own.
They massacred nearly all the monks, excepting
only a few who concealed themselves. The here-
tics robbed the shrine of its treasures, scattered
and destroyed its archives, and succeeded in drag-
ging the picture some miles from the mountain.
But here their power ended: "Hither shalt thou
go, and no farther"; once more the picture be-
came immovable. Furious with rage, the Hussites
dashed the picture to the earth, and one of the
heretics drew his sword and struck two blows on
the right cheek of the portrait. He attempted to
strike a third, when his arm failed, and he fell dead.
Terrified at this, the rest of the band fled, leaving
the broken picture covered with mud. Presently
came the surviving monks to weep over their re-
covered treasure. Their first care was to wash it;
but they sought in vain for water, when suddenly
a spring burst forth at their feet. That spring
flows at the present day, and is miraculous.
When the pious monks had washed the picture,
they planted a cross on the place where it had
been profaned, and, chanting hymns of joy, took
back their treasure to its shrine. The King of
Poland employed skilful artists to repair the in-
juries the picture had sustained, but all in vain;
no color would stay on the wood, and nothing
could be done to hide the two cuts on the right
cheek.
In 1655 came dark days for Poland. Charles
the Tenth of Sweden had conquered the kingdom,
and the people, worn out with the miseries of war,
seemed to lie prostrate at the conqueror's feet.
The intrepid monks of Czestochowa determined
to defend their monastery. About two hundred
noblemen came to their aid, and they possessed
several pieces of artillery ; but when the Swedish
General, Miiller, with 17,000 men, came to besiege
them, the contest seemed as unequal as that be-
tween David and Goliath of old.
For forty days the monastery was bombarded,
but the walls remained uninjured. Then came
the horrors of famine into the garrison, and pro-
posals to yield were to be heard.
Prior Augustine Kordecki was a man of mighty
faith, and faith gives courage. He reminded his
followers that if Czestochowa held out, perchance
the whole country would be saved. He saw that
the fate of Poland as a Catholic nation hung in
the balance, and, throwing himself on his knees,
he implored our Lady to come to his aid.
His prayer was heard. Our Lady herself ap-
peared on the summit of the mountain, wearing a
radiant garment which covered the church and
monastery, while the bullets rebounded against
the walls and fell into the camp of the enemy,
spreading confusion around. The garrison, seeing
this, made several successful sorties, and finally
Mtiller was compelled to raise the siege and retire.
Meanwhile the king, John Casimir, called his
nobles around him and made a vow to crown
Mary Queen of Poland if she would save the coun-
try from the invaders, and the news of Czestochowa
having been defended by a handful of men against
17,000 Swedes woke up. the courage of the Poles.
There was a general rally, and finally Poland was
delivered.
The king kept his word, and one of the titles
the Poles love to bestow on our Lady is that of
Queen of Poland.
From that day Our Lady of Czestochowa has
remained undisturbed, and as long as Poland had
Catholic sovereigns they delighted in bestowing
rich treasures on her shrine. The picture is cov-
ered with a rich robe, of which there are three:
one gemmed with pearls, another covered with
diamonds, and the third with other jewels. The
vestments belonging to the church were in many
instances wrought by royal hands, and one is cov-
ered with 80,000 pearls. The diamonds of the
monstrance weigh two pounds, and are valued at
two millions.
These treasures and many others have often ex-
cited Russian cupidity, and on one occasion a
jeweller was sent to value the precious stones.
Ere he reached the foot of the mountain, on his
return, he was struck dead.
Pilgrimages are forbidden to Czestochowa be-
cause the Government considers them political
manifestations, but day after day the faithful people
assemble in crowds on that luminous mountain.
Day by day Mary shows her power; the blind re-
ceive their sight, the dumb hear, the lame and '
paralytic walk, and sinners who were burthened
with remorse and despair find comfort, hope and
pardon at the shrine of their loving and merciful
Mother,
Our Lady of Czestochowa.
The Precious Blood.
Show me a tree or a charming flower
That is not bathed in Its loving power;
Find me a drop in the crystal sea
Unadorned with Its majesty;
Point me a star, or a planet bright,
Wearing no beam of Its searching light;
Lead to a joyous thing on earth,
To which Its love hath not given birth:
Ye can find them not, for the fair and true
Are alone to Its loving mercy due;
Yet, little alas! is it understood
How much we owe to the Precious Blood.
Ave Maria.
J^35
The goods of nature, the prize of grace,
To their Source in the Sacred Heart we trace,
And all that is dark is the fruit of pride,
"Which seeks this Fountain of bliss to hide.
It is unbelief: 'tis the doubt that fell
On the fiends who opened the gates of hell;
But he who turns to this Source of Light,
Finds the strongest demons put to flight.
Baptismal waters in sweetness roll.
And the stain of the Fall leaves the human soul ;
Should, perchance, the dismal blight of sin
Again mar the beauty and peace within.
The priestly hand is upraised to cleanse.
And the Precious Blood with our sorrow blends, —
Then joy returns from that deep abyss,
Of pure, of undying happiness.
The Unction of strength, to support the germ
Of faith, and its life of peace to confirm,
Is vigor imparted by that rich tide
Sent out to make fertile the lands so wide;
Each Sacrament is a Fount Divine
Of the Blood that makes holy the sacred shrine;
And the souls of men, where'er they may be,
Drink life from this boundless eternal Sea,
While seraphic hosts are forever fed
On the wonders that hide in Its mighty bed.
Thrice blissful, ubiquitous, Precious Power,
We thank and adore Thee hour by hour.
And only rest in the hope at last
To dwell where no cloud shall Thy waves o'ercast.
The Battle of Connemara.
BY GRACE RAMSAY.
CHAPTER II.— (Continued.)
" " Have you then really come all the way to this
wild place merely to minister to these poor folks ? "
she said, when, after some desultory remarks on
various things, this fact escaped Mr. Ringwood.
"Yes," he replied, simply : "I have not been
very strong of late; at least so they would have it;
the Bishop turned me loose for a month, and said
I might go anywhere I liked, provided I went out
of England ; I spent the first three weeks in Scot
land, and then I happened to hear a great deal
about this district, which interested me, so I de-
termined to devote the last week of my holiday to
coming here. I did not know things were so bad
as you describe them, but I was prepared to find a
great dearth of priests in Connemara."
" There is a dearth of many things in Conne-
mara," remarked Lady Margaret, with a signifi-
cant little laugh.
"Ah!"
" You will be particularly struck with the ab-
sence of that virtue which our Saxon i^rejudice
ranks next to godliness."
" And I am to set that fact down to Saxon mis-
rule, I suppose!"
" Yes, as you value your life ! "
They exchanged glances, and Lady Margaret
broke into a merry laugh, in which Mr. Ringwood
joined.
"As we are to be allies," she resumed, confiden-
tially, " I had better warn you of any disrespect-
ful remark on that head. Colonel Blake is very
touchy about it ; he is perpetually abusing them
for it himself, and spends a small fortune every
year in distributing soap which benefits nobody
but the soap-boiler, but he cannot bear anyone
to make the least remark about peasantry ; even
I am supposed to know nothing about the miles
of soap that come down regularly, and disappear
surreptitiously ; one laughs at it, but it is very good
of him, you know, to take so much trouble with
the people ; but his faith in the efficacy of soap
as a means of doing good to souls and bodies is
too amusing. I really believe he thinks that a
judicious application of soap by an enlightened
legislature would act as a panacea for all the
moral and physical ills of the nation."
" And to a certain extent I dare say he is right,"
observed Mr. Ringwood, whose sympathies were
strongly enlisted on the side of the beautifying
domestic agent; "I have known a wash-house and
a bath-house work wonders in a slum, and posi-
tively pave the way for spiritual reformation."
" You will take my husband's heart by storm,
if you say that to him," said Lady Margaret.
"There, look down that way: you see the smoke
curling up, as if it came from the sea? That is a
cabin where some half-dozen of your unconverted
flock reside."
" Do they like your going to their little places,
or do they resent it?" enquired the priest.
"I really don't know; I trespass on them so
seldom that they can scarcely resent my visits
much. It is not from any unkind feeling towards
them that I keep aloof," she added, quickly,
catching or fancying she caught a look of sur-
prise on Mr. Ringwood's countenance; "on the
contrary, I like the poor creatures sincerely, and I
would do anything in my power to help them.
But they are so dirty, and it is so hopeless trying
to improve them ; they think it is all my queer
English crotchets, wanting to change their ways,
and prevent them, for instance, from having the
pig to share the common dwelling-room; I have
never gone to see one of them that the pig did not
come grunting over, and rubbing himself against'
my skirts. I assure you it is a fact. But then
they are so warm-hearted! One forgives them
everything for that ; when one is in trouble they
share it with you as if it were their own; it posi-
4S6
Ave Maria,
ively is their own for the time being, they enter
into it so heartily; they have the most sympa-
thetic natures I ever knew. I can never forget
what they were to us two years ago, when we had
a great sorrow — the death of our only child."
" Yes, I heard of it," said Mr. Ringwood.
"My husband has told you about it?"
"No; it was my brother who wrote to me at
the time, asking me to pray for you both ; for you
especially ; he was greatly concerned for you."
"How strange! And did you pray for us?"
she enquired, turning a look of intense surprise
on Mr. Ringwood.
" Qf course I did ! I have prayed for you ever
since."
Lady Margaret remained silent from sheer
amazement. The idea of a man like Captain Ring-
wood, whom she barely knew as an acquaintance of
her husband's — he had never been to stay with them
— taking such a deep interest in her sorrow as to
write to another man, a complete stranger to her,
to get him to pray for her, was something so extra-
ordinary and inexplicable that it struck her dumb.
Probably her companion suspected what was in
her mind; he made no further comment, but
walked on by her side for a few moments in
silence ; then he said, resuming the broken thread :
" And you found the people about here so kind ?"
"Kind is hardly the right word; it says too
little; I could never tell you what they were to
me; we hear people speak of the balm of sympathy:
it was not a figure of speech in this case ; there was
a positive balm, a power of consolation in the
pity of those poor people ; it used really to com-
fort me when I met them on the road, and saw
their hearts in their faces as they looked at me,
sometimes stopping to bless me and say a few
affectionate words, with the tears starting to their
eyes the moment they saw them come into mine.
Oh ! if they would but take kindly to the soap,
how one would love them!" she added, with a
smile and a sigh.
Mr. Ringwood thought that even in spite of the
soap difficulty it ought not to be so hard to love
them.
" Here comes a great favorite of mine ! " said
Lady Margaret, suddenly, as a ragged, shaggy,
headed-looking mortal came slouching along the
park, apparently going to the house. He saluted
from a distance by tugging at his forelock.
" Come here, Dan! " she cried to him ; and then
added to Mr. Ringwood : " I must introduce you to
my friend, Dan Torry; he is a good specimen of
the soil."
"Top o' the mornin' to yer ladyship!" said
Dan, hurrying up ; " I hope the Gineral is finely ? "
Colonel Blake had vainly protested against this
grant of his brevet rank, the tenantry insisting
that if he was not a General long ago it was all
the fault of that rascally Government that was
"an inemy " to an Irish gentleman of his rank.
" Thank you, Dan : he is very well ; and how is
the wife this morning?"
"Oh! she's a sight betther, my lady!" said
Dan ; " the ould port yer ladyship sint her set her
up wondherful ; it done her more good than all the
pills and powdhers she swallowed in a month ; she
took a thimbleful last night goin' to bed, and
before her head was on the boulsther she was
fast asleep and dhramin' as sound as a dhrum;
and a mighty fine dhrame she had too ;' it was all
about the Gineral and yerself, my lady."
" What was it ? " said Lady Margaret, who saw
Dan was bursting to tell it, and she wanted to
bring him out before Mr. Ringwood.
"Ah! thin, it was just this, my lady," said Dan;
" she dhreamt that myself was out walkin' in the
park, just as I am now, and who should I meet
but yerself and his honor, and afther I give ye's
the time o' day, ' Dan,' says the Gineral, says he,
* it's a long time since I've seen ye up at The Tow-
ers ? '— ' It is, Gineral,' says I ; 'but it's betther I
went seldom than to wear out me welcome,' —
'That's what ye'd niver do at my dure, Dan,' says
he ; ' and to show ye I mane what I say, here's a
pound o' baccy I've brought ye,'— 'And here's a
pound o' tay for Molly,' says yer ladyship, and
out ye pulled the tay from yer pocket! That's
just what Molly tould me when she woke."
"A very pleasant dream," remarked Mr. Ring-
wood; "but I dare say you know that dreams al-
ways go by contraries."
" So they do, your honor," said Dan, touching his
forehead, "and I niver thought of it before! It's
the Gineral'll give me the tay, thin, and her lady-
ship the 'baccy."
Lady Margaret burst out laughing, and immedi-
ately took out her purse, and handed Dan half a
crown.
"I ought not to encourage such impudence," she
said, "but as it was Molly's dream it must come true
this time ; see now that the money goes for the tea
and the tobacco, and not for poteen."
"Oh! me lady!" protested Dan, pathetically,
and calling up a look of injured innocence on his
broad face, " shure ye'd niver be suspectin' poor
Dan o' the likes o' that! and sham in' him before a
strange gintleman!"
" Do you know he is one of your own priests, this
gentleman ? " said Lady Margaret, and he has come
a long way from over the sea to say Mass for you,
and look after you."
" Glory be to God ! and shure that's good news
for us ! I was guessin' you were one of the raal
Ave Maria,
437
sort, begorra I was, yer Riverence!" said Dan,
forgetting all his politeness to her ladyship in his
delight at the discovery of a real priest in the
person of the demure Englishman, whose outward
appearance had suggested rather the idea of a
parson ; "and yer Riverence 'ill be sayin' Mass for
us on Sunday, maybe?"
"Yes, please God, I hope to do so; and will
you, like a good fellow, tell all your friends in the
neighborhood about it? I was not sure of being
here in time, or no doubt Father Fallon would
have given you notice earlier," said Mr. Ring-
wood.
" Is it Father Pat, yer Riverence ? Bedad and
he would, for he knew we wouldn't have Mass
this fortnight to come but for yer Riverence
comin' like this. And what hour is it to be, yer
Riverence?"
"What hour suits you all best?" enquired Mr.
Ringwood. " I think Father Pat said nine o'clock
was the hour you usually have it ? "
"And it's the thruth he spoke, yer Riverence;
ony there's always some of us hes a word to say
to the priest, furst and foremost," exclaimed Dan ;
" so it don't be far off tin when the Mass begins ;
but it's not our own convanience we'd be thinkin'
of, but whaliver suits yer Riverence best."
"Ten will suit me perfectly," said Mr. Ring-
wood ; " but I will be there punctually at nine, to
see any one who wants me. Will j'ou send round
word to the parish to that effect?"
" Maybe I won't, yer Riverence, and it's proud
we'll be to see ye! " And with another tug at his
carrotty lock, Dan took to his heels and was soon
flying down the slope and along by the cliffs, and
up again over the hillside with the speed of a
deer.
"What do you say to that, for a sample of
native produce ? " said Lady Margaret.
" A very engaging one, if there be many like it,"
was the reply.
"There is the dressing-bell; we had better turn
back now," said the hostess, as the hospitable
summons sounded from the belfry of The Towers.
As they walked on, Mr. Ringwood was struck by
the rich verdure of the surrounding hills, that rose
glowing up like green waves against the sky.
He remarked that it seemed a pity such splendid
grass-lands should be lying waste.
" In England or Scotland those hills would be
covered with herds and flocks," he remarked.
"And so they are here," said Lady Margaret;
"stand for a moment and look steadily up there,"
— and she stopped and pointed to the line above
their standpoint ; " do you see nothing ? "
Mr. Ringwood made a telescope of his hands
and gazed up fixedly as she directed.
"Yes! I see a multitude of things moving!
They cannot be cattle surely?" he cried; "they
look like stones strewn about the side of the hill ! "
" They are sheep ; the upper range all round, as
far as you see, is alive with them; but the height
is so great you do not see them."
" Why, they are young mountains, rather than
hills ! " said Mr. Ringwood ; " I must make an as-
cent and explore them to-morrow."
"It will be well worth your while; the view is
magnificent."
[to be continued.]
Louise Lateau.
A VISIT TO BOIS D'HAINE.
BY FRANCES HOWE.
[Continued.]
Passports are no longer subject to scrutiny on
European frontiers, and it is full time that the cus-
tom of examining private luggage had also fallen
into disuse ; but Switzerland is the only country
that has as yet defined the difference between a
merchant and a tourist. However, the custom-
house at Verviers is admirable for the politeness
and discretion of its officials, and it will be long
remembered by us on that account. We were
detained but a moment, and then we were permit-
ted to pass through to the platform alongside of
which lay the train about to depart for Brussels.
As this train would not leave for nearly half an
hour, we did not enter it immediately, preferring to
walk to and fro and observe our new surround-
ings. The majority of the passengers spoke
French ; the cowpes reserved for ladies travelling
alone were marked "Dames"; the prohibitions
to smoke or to walk on the tracks were written in
French; and in fact we might have imagined our-
selves in France had not the uniform of the rail-
way officials differed from that of France, and had
we not occasionally passed groups of chattering
women or loquacious farmers rattling^ off sentence
after sentence of Walloon, or slowly enunciating
that curious travesty of German Flemish.
At the appointed time we took our places in the
Brussels train, and soon we were borne rapidly
still further westward, through neat villages and
over charming rural districts. We were now in a
country through which we had never before trav-
elled, and we noted every particular with great
interest. Everywhere we saw the same neat cot-
tages, the same well-kept farms, and we realized
that we were in one of those little kingdoms too
small ever to dream of ruling the world's destinies ;
where the Government, instead of pondering over
4S8
• Ave Maria.
schemes of glory, thought only of the welfare of
its subjects; in a land under the control of that
"paternal legislation" so often sneered at by
those who do not trouble themselves to make an
honest inquiry into the results of its policy.
Even when passing through mining districts
we saw no evidence of that extraordinary indivi-
dual wealth so often seen in regions where the
underground resources form the staple products,
which is often accompanied by the extreme pov-
erty of the working classes. We saw no traces of
poverty; for every class there were substantial
dwellings, suited to the needs of all, and nowhere
did we see miserable shanties in contrast to ele-
gant palaces. We were still busy remarking this,
and admiring the picturesque cliffs of the valley
of the Vesdre, when nightfall prevented further
observations.
The train rushed rapidly down an inclined
plane and halted before a wide semicircle of
light, all that we saw of the ancient city of Liege,
so familiar to us from childhood as the scene of
many of those charming tales forming the collec-
tion known as the Legends of the Seven Capital
Sins.
In a few moments the. train resumed its onward
course, and, leaving the gaslit steets of Liege far
behind, halted again— this time at that venerable
scholastic town, Louvain.
Here we alighted, having filled the measure of
our usual " day's journey." It was nine o'clock in
the evening; the street lamps were all burning,
and the railway station but a few rods distant
from the town ; so, glancing at the signs of the ho-
tels in sight, we directed our steps towards the
Hotel of the New World, which our guide-book
recommended as being well adapted to persons ot
moderate requirements, and as also being moderate
in its charges. We were for the time being act-
ing on the no baggage principle ; so, carrying our
light luggage ourselves, we arrived at the door of
the hotel without either guide or porter to thrust
himself between us and the smiling landlady.
We were now to see a Belgian inn— an ex-
perience new to us— and we were all in a tired
way, eager enough to compare it with the many
inns of the many nations with whom we had come
in contact. We were led through two dining-
rooms, each with a floor well scrubbed and well
sanded, and up two flights of spotlessly clean
wooden stairs, every bit of whose cleanliness was
necessary as atonement for their excessive steep-
ness. In the second floor we found two bedrooms,
utterly destitute of carpets or of any of the so-called
comforts of civilization. But the floor was clean,
the bed-linen spotless, the window-curtains all
that neatness could desire, and the rooms actually
contained all that is necessary for the repose of the
wearied traveller.
In tlie first floor the landlady showed us her
best bedroom, the pride and glory of her hotel.
Curtains, as we learned from after-experience, form
an indispensable part of a Belgian bed. In this
bedroom they were very elaborate, as were also the
window-curtains. The quilt was of some Flanders
manufacture, and a crocheted tidy covered the
green cloth on the centre-table. A home-made
rug of woolen patchwork lay beside the bed, and
a similar one was placed before the black mohair
sofa. Otherwise the room was without carpeting.
Truly the landlady had made a grievaus error
when she gave her hotel the name of the "New
World," for there was not a sign of New-World
extravagance or New-World luxury. It was
rather the Old World, with its practical common
sense and its healthful simplicity, the heirlooms
inherited from ages of Christian self-denial and
abstinence.
We descended the stairway, which we afterwards
learned to designate as those "dreadful Belgian
staircases," into the smaller of the two dining-
rooms. We were travellers of too great experi-
ence to entertain any fears concerning the re-
spectability of our lodgings, for we had long since
learned that part of the tyranny of the Old World
takes the form of obliging every public house to
be as respectable as it professes to be. But had
we had any doubts on the subject, they would have
been silenced by the sight of a priest and two
seminarians, travellers like ourselves, taking their
simple evening repast, which they concluded by
the long prayers for the living and the dead which
characterize the German thanksgiving after meals.
Being very tired, we only took a light supper,
and returning to our simple rooms we were soon
oblivious of any furniture, however splendid.
There is much in Louvain to interest the lover
of mediaeval art, but we had not the time to visit
its old monuments; we were far too anxious to
reach Tournay. So at ten o'clock the next morn-
ing, after having despatched a letter to a clerical
friend in Rome to beg for a recommendation to
the Bishop of Tournay, we took leave of our land-
lady, whose bill did not amount to $2.00— supper,
lodging, and breakfast all included— and, we might
add, cleanliness.
We once heard a German gentleman, the super-
intendent of a large Government lumber-yard in
eastern Bavaria, express himself very drolly and
at the same time very logically in regard to extrav-
agant travel. To a German the first-class railway-
coaches are simply the English and American de^
partments of a train, so his highest dream of rail-
way luxury is the second class, and our acquaint-
,/i^e Maria,
439
ance made that his standard of comparison.
"I never travel second class," said he; "third is
good enough for me; it is true that the seats are
simply varnished wood, while in the second class
one finds very nice upholstery, but even after a
man has paid his ticket it doesn't belong to him :
it is the property of the State Railway. If every
time I travelled in the second class I might
carry home a nicely cushioned arm-chair, then,
bravo ! I'd always travel in that manner."
And so it is with hotels. If every time one went
to the luxiurous homes of fashionable travel one
might carry home some rare carved or gilded
wood-work, or some carpet of fine texture, then it
would be more excusable to seek scenes of that
splendor which does not exist in the majority of
private dwellings. Dear reader, cleanliness is
the only real requirement of civilized travel. Are
you wayworn and weary? you will sleep as
soundly in a room whose floor is bare as if it
were covered with the richest Axminster. Are
you anxious and restless ? the dreary hours will
revolve as sleeplessly in an apartment crowded
with elegant uselessnesses, as sleeplessly as in a
simple room containing only the needful fur-
niture.
And to follow closely the logic of our German
friend, those who observe simplicity in their
habits of travel will more probably return home
laden with souvenirs of their journeys than those
who exhaust their purses on the temporary enjoy-
ment of a splendor which perhaps does not exist
in their own houses. If your friends return from
abroad bringing with them a thousand and one
little memorials, do not consider each one as a
period in the numeration which the reading of
their income would involve. More probably, if
these memorials are of a religious nature, they
mark some era of self-denial.
Soon after parting from our landlady we were
seated in a Brussels train, this time the holders of
tickets for Tournay. In less than an hour and a
half we alighted at Brussels, to wait at least two
hours and a half for a train that would take us to
our journey's end. This long connection re-
minded us much of our own country, and it was
something which five years abroad had nearly
obliterated from our minds; for, in general, Euro-
pean railway connections are prompt and sure.
We have, it is true, our vast lengths of railway
connecting great commercial centres, and which
transport us over towns and villages as if these
last were but the waves of the ocean. But those
who have strayed away from these great thor-
oughfares into the region of less frequented travel
can testify to the tedium of waiting for the train
that takes its own time to arrive.
America holds itself forth to the world as
the country of railways, and many who ought
to be better informed have a vague idea that
European countries are comparatively destitute
of that method of locomotion. It is true that
Belgium has more railways in proportion to her
area than any other country of Europe, but still
her neighbors are not so outdone by this little
kingdom as to render her no fair example of the
railway communication in Europe.
[to be continued.]
San Onofrio.
BY ELIZA ALLEN STARR.
"To the right, as I have said, far off on the cam-
pagna, you can see the tomb of Cecilia Metella;
and straight before you rises St. John Lateran and
the Colosseum," said the friend who was our
guide to San Pietro in Montorio. " And on the
left you can see the dome of St. Peter's, but not
wholly ; for between us stands the monastery of
San Onofrio."
" San Onofrio ! " we exclaimed ; " and so near ! "
"Let us go there to-day," she replied. And so
it was that we drove from San Pietro in Montorio,
past the fountain with its five dashing cascades,
past the gardens with their huge cacti and aloes and
the winding steps leading here and there to some
pleasant off-look, past the Villa Farnesina and the
Hospital of the Holy Spirit, to the foot of a steep,
unpaved street, at the very summit of which stood
the monastery of San Onofrio. We could see the
steps leading up to its portico, and the round arches
which led to the church. " We must walk from
here," said our friend. "I can never allow myself
to be drawn up this steep ascent " ; and we began
our pilgrimage to San Onofrio. Every few mo-
ments we found ourselves looking back upon the
view which opened through this narrow street, then
took heart by turning our eyes again upon the beau-
tifiil round arches of San Onofrio, saying to our-
selves : " It was up this steep ascent that the
horses of Cardinal Aldobrandini drew the dy-
ing poet. The good monks came to the foot of
those high steps to receive him " ; and with these
memories we forgot the toilsome way.
No sooner had we gained the last step than
Rome, the Rome of the Caesars, and the Rome of
St. Gregory and the whole line of Roman Pontiffs,
from St. Peter to Pius IX, lay before us. We had
only to seat ourselves on the portico to overlook it
all, and to rest at the same time. But we had come
to San Onofrio for something besides this view,
magnificent as it was. And first, St. Onofrio him-
UO
Ave Maria,
self stood out from the desert with its cave and its
one date tree, in a way to draw our hearts, had no
other association given a charm to this old monas-
tery. Crossing the portico, with its three pictures
of St. Jerome, for whose Order the monastery was
endowed, and in whose hands it has ever since re-
mained, v/e entered the church, built in 14S9. The
first chapel on the right contained the Blessed Sac-
rament, as we knew by the veil over the tabernacle,
and it also proved to be the chapel of San Oaofrio.
This chapel seems to have retained its original
form and its ancient decorations. The arched
ceiling is richly ingroined and covered with fres-
coes so dark with age that the fresh gilding of
the tabernacle and its triptich shone out of the
twilight like a sunshiny spot in a dark landscape.
In the centre of this triptich, on a gold ground, is
a picture of San Onofrio, as he lived in the desert,
with a girdle of leaves about his loins. The Saint
is kneeling, and liis aged hands are joined in earn-
est prayer. It has all the freshness of a picture
recently painted, and yet is as religious as if
painted by Lorenzo di Credi. One small win-
dow, in an angle by the chapel, lights it from
without, and also gives a glimpse of the Eternal
City lying at its feet. And this reminds us to say
that nothing can be more charming than those
glimpses of magnificent views which are given
from the old churches ; sometimes by grated aper-
tures in the heavy doors, sometimes by an irregu-
lar window, set in, it would seem, for this very pur-
pose. We still recall this window in the chapel
of San Onofrio with a feeling of delight. The
picture above the altar, our Lord Himself, dwell-
ing within the tabernacle, might be imagined
watching over the city through this small lattice
in the wall.
Beside the second chapel is a lunette, in which
Pinturicchio painted one of his loveliest pictures :
St. Anne teaching the Blessed Virgin to read, be-
fore which everyone lingers, even with the rich
decorations of the arch over the main altar lead-
ing them onward. There is no gold in this pic-
ture, but the clear air of the country surrounds
the beautiful heads, so full of simplicity and the
grandeur of a supernatural innocence. The apse,
or tribune, or, as those accustomed to see but one
altar for the Blessed Sacrament in a church would
call it, the sanctuary, is an arched recess, and
may be called a richly decorated grotto, in which
are represented some of the most picturesque
scenes in the life of our Lord as an Infant, and
the glory of His Mother in heaven. The lower
line is occupied by the Nativity, the Murder of the
Holy Innocents, and the Flight into Egypt, by
Baldassare Peruzzi; the line above, by the Cor-
onation of the Blessed Virgin and eight groups
of saints and angels; while the centre, or highest
point, is filled by the Eepresentation of God the
Father in the act of blessing. The depth of tint,
the richness of gilding, the elegance of the forms,
in these frescoes, is such as to leave a profound
impression upon the mind, and one turns from
them with reluctance after the longest study.
The last chapel on the left is the one in which the
present Pontiff, Pius IX, has caused the new
monument of Torquato Tasso to be placed. The
entire chapel has been renovated, and the Papal
arms are seen on the ceiling, on the pavement,
and also above the slab on which the inscription
concerning Tasso has been inscribed. The altar-
piece represents St. Jerome; beside him is the
lion of the desert and of Bethlehem, while an
angel blows that trump of doom to which St.
Jerome listens, as he ever did in his lifetime.
The monument of Tasso gives the full-length
figure of the poet in statuesque relief, and in the
dress of his period. He is looking towards Jeru-
salem, delivered, of which he sang — his poem in
his hand, supported by a shield which bears a
cross and this motto : Pro fide. Above the poet,
on an arch, is sculptured the Blessed Virgin and
her angelic attendants, whose praises he sang
with so much fervor. Below, in a bass-relief, we
see Tasso dead, but crowned, and carried in tri-
umph to the capital.
It was from the contemplation of this fresh mem-
morial to the genius of the Christian poet that we
again stepped upon the portico to enter a door
at the left, opening upon a cloistered court.
The lunettes on the wall correspond with the
round arches of the court, and upon these lunettes,
on all the four sides, are represented scenes from
the life of San Onofrio, with a Latin inscription
under each. The beauty and absolute seclusion
of this enclosed court has (or must have had before
visitors thronged to San Onofrio), something
most impressive in it, and gives one an idea of
the spirit, so interior and so elevated, engendered
by these cloisters adorned with noble works of
Christian art, as the daily companions of its in-
mates. From the court we ascended a flight of
steps to a corridor leading off in several direc-
tions ; but our own way led through another cor-
ridor still, with windows overlooking that loveli-
est of all possible views of Kome. At the end
next the entrance we saw immediately that charm-
ing Madonna by Leonardo da Vinci, which he
left as a memorial of his genius and of the gener-
orsity of the donor, whom. he has represented
standing with uncovered head, before this celes-
tial Lady and her Divine Infant. Of this picture
the French writer Eugene de la Gouvnerie says :
" If Leonardo has left but few enduring souvenirs
Ave Maria,
ui
of his stay in Rome, there is one, at least, in which
we recognize all the power of his genius — this is
the small half circle in the upper gallery of the
Convent of San Onofrio. The Virgin is there rep-
resented withthatfirmnessof outline, that delicacy
in the modelling, and in the design, which Leon-
ardo knew so well how to unite with grace of
gesture and a sublime charm of expression." We
may also add that this Madonna, enclosed in a
small half circle, is one of those most admired
by M. de Rumorh.
It is through this enclosed gallery that we ap-
proached the room which the monks of San Onofrio
put at the disposal of the poet when he came, as he
said, " to die among ihemy The first visit of Tasso
to Rome after his early youth had been one trance
of happiness. He was then known as a poet, and
was praised and feasted by the venerable Cardinal
Hippolyte of Este, in his palace of Monte-Gior-
dano, where were to be met all those men the most
distinguished in Rome by their position or their
merit. In the midst of all the beauties of a pal-
ace where the eye followed, at pleasure, long umbra-
geous avenues, ending with one of those Roman
fountains which spring towards heaven with such
joyfulness, while at their base start up beds of
the most delicate blooms, or, looking in another
direction, where the eye lingers on the beauty of
the Roman campagna to be again attracted by
the purple hills in the ever beautiful distance;
surrounded by such loveliness in nature and by
the charms of so brilliant a society, the young
Tasso gave himself up to his poetic fancies.
Three years after he is again seen in Rome, but
now with the pilgrims who crowd to the Holy City
in the year of Jubilee. This time his soul was
absorbed, not by the glories of ancient Rome, not
by its arches of triumph, nor the pleasure-grounds
of modern opulence, but by the contemplation of
those spots on which the blood of martyrs had
been shed for Christ; and in the fervor of his
pious enthusiasm he would gladly have covered
these sacred spots with his kisses and his tears.
Once more Tasso revisits that Rome which
must have had such a charm for his poetic soul.
In 1575 he returned to finish there, with the aid of
so many inspirations, his Jerusalem. We are told
that a sincere and lively admiration was excited
by his poem, but the hearts of poets arc exacting.
Some praise which he had hoped to win had not
been given, and all other praises failed to console
him. For more than twelve years he did not go
to Rome. Finally, in 1587, he went to the holy
shrine of Loretto, there to accomplish a vow
which he had made to the Blessed Virgin. From
Loretto he went to Assisi, to pray before tlie altars
and the tomb of St. Francis. From Assisi he con-
tinued his pilgrimage, until on the 4th of Novem-
ber the Roman campagna was again spread
before him. He had tasted the cup of life to find
its sweetness turned to bitterness. Disappointed,
unhappy, drawn to religion by the necessities of a
suffering soul, he had come to Rome for consola-
tion. '• It is a grace from God," he writes to a
friend, "that I am allowed to visit once more this
holy city." This time he found a home with the
abbot of Olivetani di San Maria Nuovella," upon
the Via Sacra, Father Oddi, one of the most ardent
admirers of the Jerusalem of Tasso. But not even
the kindness of Father Oddi could save him from
a certain sense of humiliation which came from
his poverty. In one of his moments of depression
he fled from the abode of his friend and took
shelter in a hospital founded by a cousin of his
father, Jacques Tasso. " Here," he could say, " if I
live upon alms, it is upon the alms of my own
family." But while the poet was thus weighed
down to the dust by his misfortunes, Rome and
her Pontifl:' were preparing a triumph for which,
years before, he had sighed in vain. The poet had
returned to Naples, where a letter from the Cardi-
nal Cintio Aldobrandini announced to him that
by a decree of the Senate, approved by the Pope, ,
Clement VIII, the crown of laurel would be given
to him at the capital. How had the charm of
this triumph been broken ? God, who reads, the
heart, who knows its dangers, had opened the
eyes of Tasso to the vanity of worldly fame;
and now it was only the solicitations of his
friends which induced him to accept what he had
once desired and had even felt he had a right to
claim.
Returning to Rome, he took the route which led
over Monte Cassino, that he might compose his
whole soul before those shrines where St. Benedict
and St. Scholastica had overcome the world.
Before he entered Rome he was met by his faith-
ful friends, the Cardinals Cintio and Pietro Aldo-
brandini, with their families, and also a representa-
tion from the house of the Holy Father. He was
welcomed with transports of joy, and was received
the next day by Clement VIII, who said to him :
" I hold for you the laurel crown, that you may
honor it as it has been honored by others."
The ceremony, however, was deferred on ac-
count of the weather and the gloom of the winter
months. "Let it be given," it was said, "in the
month of April, in the midst of springing flowers,
and all the joys of spring-time." But the poet had
heard a voice which had not reached the ears of
his most devoted friends. When he learned that
the coronation had been deferred he was pro-
foundly moved, and begged the Cardinal Cintio,
his beloved friend, to take him to the monastery
u^
Ave Maria.
of San Onofrio. His wish was gratified, and the
carriage of the Cardinal, in which he accompanied
the pqet, was drawn up the steep 8aUta di San
Onofrio to the steps of the monastery, where
they were met by the religious. Here it was, at
the foot of these steps, that Tasso said to them,
with all the pathos of his soul in his melancholy
eyes: "My fathers, I have come to die among
you ! " From this moment he seemed to give him-
self into their hands.
With the greatest tenderness they aided his
trembling steps up the flight of stairs to the por-
tico, and then through the same cloistered court
which we have described : up the same stairs to the
gallery, with its windows overlooking Home, to the
best room in their lovely abode ; to no other would
they lead the poet of the "Jerusalem Delivered."
But in vain did they seek to chase from his mind
the idea of approaching death. It was from this
sacred seclusion that he wrote to his dear friend,
Antonio: "I have come to the monastery of San
Onofrio, not only because the air is praised by
physicians more than that of any other part of
Rome, but that I may begin, on this elevated spot
and in the conversation of these holy fathers, my
conversation in heaven."
The Cardinal Cintio Aldobrandini seldom
quitted his friend Tasso, and nothing was left un-
done to cheer and sustain his courage and his fail-
ing strength. The oak is still shown towards
which his feeble steps delighted to turn through
the garden of the monastery, and from which he
could see, through the mild air of early spring, the
Roman landscape, the Tiber and the holy city.
But nothing could stay the hand of death. Two
weeks after his arrival at San Onofrio the latent
fever , declared itself. He still lingered fourteen
days, and then he asked for the last rites of that
Church which never seems so rich as when invoked
by the dying. Absorbed in the contemplation of
divine things, holding to his breast and to his lips
the crucifix sent to him by Clement YIII, enriched
with every blessing for his last hour, he could say :
" Behold, the crown which I was to receive at the
Capitol has been changed from one of laurel for a
better one in heaven!"
From the time he received the last Sacraments
he desired to be left alone with a religious and
his crucifix. Slowly and to the sweet chant of the
choir, to which Tasso had so often listened with
tears of happiness, the monk chanted the Hours
until the morning when Tasso murmured, with
great diflaculty: '•'• In manus Tuas, Domine,'''' — and
all was over! The last words of his Redeemer,
"Lord, into Thy Hands," were the last words of
Tasso.
Who can say with what a pathetic interest every
object in that chamber is invested ! There stands
the chair on which he had sat; his writing-case is
preserved, and above all his crucifix. A letter,
written by his own hand to his dear friend Antonio.
A bust of which the mask was taken from his face
after death, and on which one sees how all the nat-
ural enthusiasm of the poet had been supernatural-
ized by years of suffering, and, more than all, by
those few weeks among the holy souls at San Ono-
frio.
Tasso died between seven and eight o'clock on
the morning of the 25th of April, 1595, in the
fiftieth year of his age. That same evening his
body was interred near the steps of the high altar,
amid a vast concourse of people. For centuries
the spot was marked by a stone bearing this in-
scription ;
" Here lie the bones of Torquato Tasso. Stranger,
lest thou know it not, the Brothers of the monas-
tery have placed here this stone, in the year 1601.
He died in 1595."
When the guide had shown us all that his room
contained he led us to a door opening on the gar-
den of the monastery, to a path leading to the oak
of Tasso. A great part of it has been destroyed by
tempests, but enough remains to show where the
poet's seat must have been. Near it is the tree
under which St. Philip Neri drew around him the
Roman boys and won their young hearts to God.
A flight of mossy steps leads still higher, where
we could see plainly the near dome of St. Peter's
and the line of stone pines stretching almost from
the spot where we stood to the colonnades of the
great basilica. At our feet the green sod was set
close with pink and white daisies, spreading their
small corollas to the sun. We gathered a handful,
for they would speak not only to us, but to many
across the sea, of San Onofrio and of St. Philip
Neri as well as of Tasso ; and when we returned
to the church, we laid them on the altar in the old
chapel of the Saint of the Desert with its one small
window overlooking Rome.
Letter from Rome.
Rome, June 9, 1876.
Dear Ave Mabia:— St. Augustine, who knew so
much about grace and nature, how the one sanctified
and united the other with God, used to say, '■'■Interji-
cite errores, diligite peccatores,''^ — "Destroy errors, love
the erring." This maxim Is a consequence of grace,
else how can we love the erring? How can we even
tolerate the existence of men whose sworn purpose is
to make our existence miserable, to say nothing of
the fact that they would annihilate us Christians en-
tirely if they could? O we must needs invoke grace
again and again, not to think unkindly of such men.
Ave Maria.
us
waiving an effort to love them. I know, too, that the
Holy Father, in a recent discourse (of which I shall
speak further on) said, *' But while we pray for our
enemies, let us curse their evil ways." Nature is
more disposed to invoke malediction upon and con-
sign to eternal execration the sinners, and would cer-
tainly do so but for the sweetening* and forgiring
breath of grace. But we are not forbidden to be in-
dignant, and my hearty indignation at this moment,
and that of every Catholic in the Eternal City, bears
constant reference to the latest act of villainy con-
summated by the Italian Government to the detri-
ment of Catholics throughout the world. The ancient
hospice for pilgrims, called
TRINITA DB PELLEGRINI,
Is taken at last. The date of its primeval establish-
ment is buried in remote antiquity. It was a venera-
ble institution in the days of St. Philip Neri, standing
side by side with the old Monte di Pieta. It was the
home of the weary traveller who journeyed hither
from France, Spain, Portugal, from Britain, from Ger-
many, and from beyond the Danube. To be received
within its walls it was enough to be a Catholic. And
when England disowned her Mother, and persecuted
her faithful offspring, many an English exile found
repose and sympathy in the old hospice of Trinita de
Pellegrini. Look at the old records of the sixteenth
and the early part of the seventeenth century, and
side by side with that of the Dalmatian you will see
inscribed the name of a persecuted yet faithful son of
Erin, — here an O'Reilly, there a Burke, and anon an
O'Donnell. In our own days, during Holy Week, I
have seen a delicate Roman princess, who during the
Carnival was the belle of every grand ball, go on her
knees before a poor dusty creature who had walked
all the way from Terracina to Rome, wash her blis-
tered feet, and afterwards wait on her, and hundreds
besides, in the women's refectory. And I have seen
venerable Cardinals, princes, and gentlemen of every
rank do the same charitable office. It was a repeti-
tion of the sublime scene in the Coenaculum. Pre-
cisely because it was a sublime institution, and was
too strong a reminder of God betrayed on one side,
and Judas the betrayer and thief on the other, did
these imitators of Judas suppress the Trinita de Pelle-
grini, thus betraying their Master in the Faith to
which they are renegades. The getting hold of the
purse of the institution was by no means an accessory
consideration to them, and in this too have they imi.
tated Judas. To make themselves perfect counter-
parts of the archtraitor, nothing is left them now but
to hang themselves with a halter. Pending this con-
summation, they are very active in overtopping the
measure of their iniquity. I see ecclesiastical prop-
erty, rural possessions mostly, to the amount of 150,-
000 francs, advertised for sale at public auction next
week. 'The evil that men do lives after them.'
Though Bonghi, the originator of the idea that the
Government should apppoint commissioners who
would make a visitation of the ecclesiastical semina-
naries, perished with Minghetti's ministry, still his
obnoxious project is carried out to the letter. A visi-
I tation of the Pope's Seminary of Sant AppoUinare
was made in the early part of last week.
Many laudatory articles have appeared in the native
and foreign journals about the grand library and read-
ing-room inaugurated by the king on his birthday,
and which is named, after him, Libreria Vittorio Em-
manuele. A great tribute to science indeed, but to
the utter extermination of justice. First of all, the
building itself was
STOLEN FROM THE JESUITS.
With the seizure of the Roman College, the library
was taken too. Let me add also that the brigands did
not even spare the magnificent pharmacy and chemical
laboratory belonging to the Jesuits. In it the poor
received medicine gratuitously, and male patients
were treated by Brother Antonacci, one of the most
learned physicians of Romti. I believe that the de-
struction of that pharmacy, and the sale of the ef-
fects, broke Brother Antonacci's heart. When he was
driven forth from that retreat where he had served
God (and honored science too) for forty-five years, he
began to practise medicine again to gain a livelihood.
He was so attached to his old habit that although the
law forbade him to wear it he would rise before dawn,
put it on, and repair in the darkness to the Church of
San Lorenzo in Lucina, and hear Mass in it. It did his
heart good, he said, to throb under the old cassock.
But it ceased to throb altogether after a few months,
and they buried him in the habit he loved and wore
so well. Pardon this digression ; but I cannot think of
the Roman College without thinking of
FRA ANTONACCI,
and another priest of whom I may write to you one of
these days. To the Library of the Jesuits were added
that of the Dominicans at the Minerva, the Angelica,
and that of the Oratorians. This gigantic robbery,
then, accumulated into one whole, forms the so-called
Victor Emmanuel Library. After the Vatican, it is
perhaps the richest library in the world, but no glory
to the robber whose bust and arms now desecrate the
hall where Pallavacini, and Bellarmine, and Suarez,
and many a learned son of Ignatius studied.
I alluded above to a recent discourse of His Holi-
ness. It was delivered on the 29th of May, to the de-
puties from the Twenty-Four Cities which, at the in-
stigation of Pope Alexander III, formed the Lombard
League, and conquered Barbarossa at Leguano. The
origin and progress of the Italian Revolution are the
subjects of consideration. The Italian Revolution
formally began after the restoration to the Eternal
City of Pius VII. The agitators first began to corrupt
the minds and hearts of the young men, and the pen-
insula was literally inundated with the writings of the
atheists of the eighteenth century. These were fol-
lowed by a multitude of immoral books and scandal-
ous romances. The first evidence of the evil effect of
these books was in the appearance of that formidable
secret society, *' black in name, and black in deed," the
Carbonari. These were followed by the association
called La Giovane Italia—Young Italy — of which His
Holiness patly remarks that though young in name it
was old in malice and iniquity. Numerous other se-
4U
Ave Maria.
cret associations were organised, but in time all car-
ried their turbid and muddy waters into the vast
marsh of Masonry. From this marsh to-day arises
that pestilential effluvia which infects a great portion
of the world, and hinders this poor Italy from spealving
her mind out before the nations. To the untiring ef-
forts of Masonry is due the triumph of the Revolu-
tion in Italy. He would pass over fruitless lamenta-
tions, and would observe that the very first victim of
the Revolution was the man who through ambition
and vanity had placed himself at the head of it. With
the triumph of the Revolution began the long series
of oppression, spoliations, and outrages inflicted upon
the Catholic Church. But God has decreed the tri-
umph of His Church, and that peace be restored to
her even here below in virtue of the Cross of Christ.
In this sign thou shalt conquer. Then he said, "In the
mean time, let the enemies of the Church be the ob-
ject of our charity and our prayers. But while we pray
for them, let us curse their errors and their false max-
ims, and let us regard their sectarian [assemblies with
more than contempt, with horror, while we exhort the
young men to fly from them as from a poisonous ser-
pent. Against their efforts to do evil, let ours be op-
posed to do good. They wish to create science with
anti-Christian instruction. But let us do all that is
possible to multiply the teachers of sound doctrine.
They want license, and we fight (let us say it with a loud
voice) we fight for liberty, but for that liberty which
moves step by step with justice. They desire to cor-
rupt, and we desire to heal. In short, the mission of
good Catholics lilce you is to throw up a barrier against
the torrent of iniquity which is extending its inunda-
tions daily. The surest means of all others, and the
most conducive to the end proposed, is concord and
union.
UNION WITH GOD, UNION AMONG YOURSELVES, UNION
WITH THE CHIEF PASTORS OF THE DIOCESES.
And since mention has been made of a great Pontiff
who merited well of Italj', let us observe, too, that
Alexander III, of holy memory, who showed an intre-
pid soul, and a constancy that never failed him, owed
chiefly to union the triumph achieved. Do you also
fight united and in concord to obtain the same end
and you will soon obtain it, perhaps without the ne-
cessity of going to Canossa or to Venice." Unity of
purpose and union in action was also the theme of a
Brief, dated May 22, which the Pope addressed to the
Marquis Pompeo Bourbon del Monte, and to the Cen-
tral Commission of the Catholic Union in Florence for
promoting good works. His Holiness remarks that it
is unbecoming the faithful to stand in passive indiffer-
ence and see the mouth closed, the hand and feet of
the sacred ministers tied, lest they point out the snares
and dangers to the people, lest they strengthen their
faith, and defend the rights of the Church. "There-
fore/' he continues, " we deem you worthy of all
praise, because with zeal for the divine honor and the
salvation of your neighbor, under the leadership of
the ecclesiastical authorities, and, observing the tenor
of the laws, you oppose vigilance against trickery,
writings against writings, deeds against deeds, and
wherever you see an enemy breaking forth, there you
turn your forces, while you are careful at the same
time tJiat these be not divichd by diversity of action:^
Italy apprehends danger from the eastern point of
the compass. The magnates of this land are smitten
with the recollection that they are Christians. Conse-
quently they have sent out two men-of-war to take
observations. In addition to this, orders have been
given by the minister of war to establish a strong
military force at Brindisi. The rapidity and ease with
which monarchs are dethroned in latter days is amaz-
ing. A few of the ministry wait upon his majesty
and announce their sentiments in something after
this fashion: "Sir, out of consideration for your per-
sonal comfort we would suggest that you retire im-
mediately." An announcement of this nature need
not surprise the King of Italy at present. He is re-
ceiving abundant proofs of the fact that though the
national aspirations tend towards unity they are far
from including monarchy. A grand banquet was
lately given by the principal citizens of Milan to com-
memorate the battle of Leguano. The syndic of the
city was invited under condition that he should not
according to custom propose the health of the king.
He was at liberty to say "J drink to the health of the
king." But he was not permitted to propose the
health of the king, nor qualify the word king with the
possessive "own" Nor did they stop there. The king's
portrait was removed from the banquet-hall. The
conditions were humiliating, and the syndic would
not accept. But the insult to his majesty did not lose
any of its enormity or deep significance by that. The
king of Italy has often said " we will not go to Ca-
nossa " — i. e., we will not submit to the Pope. He may
not, that is uncertain, as the Pope said; but it is cer-
tain that the enemies of the Church will be brought,
whether they will or not, before the Cross triumphant,
in fear and trembling. There is a meaning in the in-
sult of the Republicans just offered to the king. But
there is a deeper significance still in the words of the
old man in the Vatican to the Catholic deputies:
"Fight united and in concord to obtain the same pur-
pose, and you will soon obtain it, perhaps without the
necessity of anybody's going to Canossa or to Venice."
Arthur.
In Honor of Our Lady of Lourdes.
The following is the manner in whicli Mrs.
related to me the sudden, and we may say mirac-
ulous, cure of her eyes through the application of
the water from the Grotto of Lourdes :
" I came home after burying my husband, and, feeling
sick, I had to go to bed. The next morningj a Solemn
Mass was to be celebrated for the repose of the soul of
my husband, but I was not able to go to church ; my
face was fearfully swollen. I asked the Sisters to
come to see me, asked the priest to visit me, and they
seemed very much astonished. Some thought it was
erysipelas, others pronounced it something else. But
whatever it was or was not, I became entirely blind.
I remained blind for over three years. My general
health, though not the best, yet permitted me to go
Ave Maria.
w>
to church. I had to be led by the hand, for I could
see nothing. I became very cross to those around me,
without being able to account for it. This caused me
to feel bad, for all were very kind to me. I consulted
the physicians of our town, and went to L., placing
myself under the care of the best oculist there. After
sometime I became impatient, not seeing any im-
provement, and asked Doctor C. what his opinion was;
he answered me very decidedly that the sight of one
eye was irretrievably lost, but that I might yet have
the use of the other, I went back to my home,
amongst my friends and relatives, trying to be satis-
lied with my lot, when one of the Sisters of Charity
came to see me and said: 'Now is your time. Father
C. (the pastor of the place) has returned from his
visit to , and brought with him some of the
water from the Grotto of Lourdes.' lu short I im-
mediately began the novena, had myself led to the
church the first and second day, asked the priest to
put the water on my eyes, which he kindly did,
begged him to say a Mass for me, and on the .third
day of the novena the priest said to me: 'Now, Mrs.
, you can go home by yourself.' And thanks and
glory be to God, I could see; I went home alone, to
my children, to the great astonishment of the whole
town. It is now more than two years since I received
this blessing, and ever since I have been able to do
my work. In a word, I see, — thanks be to God and
to the Immaculate Conception."
A correct statement. L. B , Pastor.
Catholic Notes.
Rev. Father Francis Codina, O. S. F., of Watson-
ville, Cal., has our sincere thanks for kind favors.
The unpublished works of the lamented Dr.
Brownson are being collected for publication by one
of his sons.
A beautiful Munich statue of the Blessed Virgin,
five feet nine inches high, has been purchased by Rev.
P. P. Cooney, C. S. C, for St. Patrick's Church, Toledo,
of which he is temporarily in charge.
A fine medallion of more than one metre (about
three feet and a half) in diameter, representing a true
likeness of Pius IX, in splendid mosaic, has been
placed over the facade of the Sanctuary at Lourdes.
P^re Renard, Professor of Geology in the Jesuit
College at Louvain, has recently been elected a fel-
low of the Microscopical Society of London. He has
since been on a geological tour in Wales at the ex-
pense of the Belgian Government.
Venerable Father Hoffbauer, whose beatifica-
tion was lately announced, was the spiritual director
of the Christian philosopher, Frederick von Schlegcl.
The latter was a weekly Communicant, and was
noted for his devotion to our Blessed Lady.
A CaUefjramme to the New York Freeman's
Journal^ dated Rome, June 25th, announces that:
"The Very Rev. James O'Connor, of the Diocese of
Philadelphia, has been named by the Holy See Bishop
in partibus, and Vicar Apostolic of Nebraska." Bishop
O'Gorman, the former Vicar Apostolic, had his resi-
dence in Omaha, and died there, July 4, 1S74— two
years ago. The See has, since, been vacant, Rt. Rev.
Dr. Ireland, first named, having become Coadjutor, cum
jure Ruccessionis, of the Bishop of St. Paul. Dr. O'Con-
nor is a younger brother of the late Bishop of Pitts-
burgh.
"Who that knew the Wesleyans of old," says the
N. 0. Morning Star, "would recognize them now by
their exterior practices? The bare barn of a meeting,
house has been replaced by magnificent and costly
edifices, the plain board box has given way to sump-
tuously upholstered pews; the pious horror which
banished organs and all instruments of music as in-
ventions of the devil has subsided into quite an alli-
ance with that profane goddess, Euterpe. Pictures and
even statues, and, worse than all, crosses, are profusely
visible among sectarians who in 1776 would have con-
sidered themselves in full fellowship with Babylon if
they had encouraged idolatry so openly."
Late advices from Bruxelles state that the dis-
tinguished Bollandist, Father Victor de Buck, breathed
his last on the 23rd of May, at the College of St.
Michael. This will cause profound sorrow to many
in Ireland, since his labors on the great ^^ Acta Sancto-
rum^^ were devoted especially to the illustration of
Irish hagiology for several years past. His learning
and virtues are well preserved in the record of his
life-long labors and zeal to promote the glory of 'the
saints, who we trust are ready to receive him in
the kingdom of eternal glory. Several works of his
in the Latin, French and Flemish languages have al-
ready seen the light, besides his special contributions
to the "J-cto." Fortified by the Sacraments of the
Church, he expired in the sixtieth year of his age.—
Dublin Freeman.
The Italian journals give to the public, in the
shape of a report, the steckbrief (warrant of arrest) is-
sued against Count Arnim, formerly a Prussian am-
bassador at the Holy See. The fact that the Berlin
police is willing to refund all expenses of arrest be-
sides travelling expenses for the culprit and his guards
is much commented upon by the newspapers, since
the Italian Government has oflicially refused to give
up Count Arnim to the Prussian authorities. The
Count's health is very much impaired, his fortune
sequestered, and he has been cashiered from the
Prussian diplomatic service. It was by his treasonable
and equivocal conduct that Victor Emmanuel was
enabled to commit his sacrilegious robbery in 1870, by
which the Holy Father became a prisoner. Who does
not see here the avenging hand of God!
The anniversary service of the martyr-Arch-
bishop, Mgr. Darboy, has been held lately in Paris.
A marble statue of the saintly martyr will be placed
in St. George's Chapel. A French exchange gives
the following graphic description of this statue,
executed by M. Bonnassieux. The Archbishop is
represented standing erect, wearing the cross on
his breast, near the fatal wall where the victims
had been placed. All have already fallen after the
first volley, except the Archbishop, who remained
U6
Ave MaHa.
standing, with two balls in his side. It is from this
supreme moment, between life and death, or rather
with death already in his heart, that the artist has
taken his idea. The splendid head shows an expres-
sion both Christian and ideal. The paleness, and
muscular contraction caused by the intense suffering
are plainly visible, but their traits are eclipsed by a
serenity both lofty and sad, giving a splendid bright-
ness to his forehead and features. He is lifting his
maimed hand, showing its two fingers, bruised by the
bullets of the first volley, while with sublime expres-
sion he pardons his murderers by giving them his
blessing.
Show me your companions and I will tell you
what you are, is a well-known German proverb. Bis-
mark's present companions are stock-jobbers, brokers,
railroad rings and gruender-s (founders of mercantile
and industrial companies) who have been the means of
swindling the people. Bismark himself is very little
edified with such associates, and he feels quite uneasy
among them; but these fine fellows, although they
are all full of admiration for the great statesman, are
still ready to "let out" terrible things on him, just as
it has happened to some prominent men in our own
country. There are already some voices calling Bis-
mark the first gruender of the German Empire, and
they do not mean the ideal but the equivocal sense of
the word. Count Arnim, Bismark's bitterest enemy,
has now purchased the JEisenbahnzeitung (Railroad
Gazette) the editors of which paper know all about
railroad rings, foundations, factories and other very
profitable but not very honest business transactions.
The Eisenhahnzeitung is already "letting out" terrible
things, and these disclosures will not cease till the
paper is suppressed. Not a few thinking politicians
are of the opinion that a return to better times for the
Catholics is near at hand, to be brought about not by
Bismark but by one of his successors. It is said that
the old king himself is heartily tired of the conflict and
longs for peace.
New Publications.
Dramatisch-Declam. Jugend Bibliothek. Mtihl-
bauer <& Behrle, Chicago.
The 5th number of this series contains a poem by B.
Hammer, "The Rising of the Colonies," in which Vir-
ginia, surrounded by her sister Colonies, appeals for
liberty, and is responded to by Pennsylvania, New
York, Massachusetts and the other States; also a
melodrama, by P. Agatho, O. S. B., entitled " The God-
mother's Gift," exhibiting in a most lively and touch-
ing manner the working of divine grace through a
little girl, and her generous application of a god-
mother's gift. Young ladies of the period would do
well to read it, and learn how to become missionaries
of the faith by practising such household virtues as
are set forth in this sweet little composition of the
Rev. Father Agatho.
The Messenger of the Sacred Heart for July, an
excellent number of this magazine, contains: 1, Devo-
tion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus; II, SS. Timothy and
Maura; III, The New Mission Field in South Africa;
IV, Correspondence Between an Aged Count and a
Young Convert; V, Devotion to the Sacred Heart; VI,
The Return of the Popes from Avignon to Rome; VII,
Alain de B ; or, the Efficacy of Persevering Prayer;
VIII, General Intention; IX, Graces Obtained.
Dr. Jos. Salzmann's Leben und Wirkcn, — "The
Life and Labors of the Rev. Dr. Jos. Salzmann," by
Rev. J. Rainer, Professor at the Salesianum. B.
Herder, St. Louis, Mo.
We hail with delight the appearance of this little
volume, as a noble tribute to the memory of the late
Dr. Salzmann, of Milwaukee. Though we had not the
pleasure of being personally acquainted with the hero
of this sketch, yet on perusing the same we feel as if
we had been lifelong and intimate friends. Dr. Salz-
mann's memory indeed will live forever in the crea-
tions of his faith and genius, the Salesianum, the
Catholic Teachers' Institute, and the Pio Nono Col-
lege; but his biography, as written by Father Rainer,
will be a medium by which Catholics of future ages
can view them with pleasure and delight. An Eng-
lish translation, we trust, will soon follow the German
edition.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report for the Week Ending June 24th.
Num.ber of letters received, 102; new members en-
rolled, 87. Applications for prayers have been made
for the following intentions : Recovery of health for
78 persons and 1 family; Change of life for 32 persons
and 2 families; Conversion to the Faith for 15 persons
and 2 families; The grace of perseverance for 5 per-
sons; Grace of a happy death for 3 persons in the last
extremity; Graces for priests, 4; for religious 5; for
clerical students, 2; Grace of a religious "vocation, 3;
Temporal favors, for 14 persons, 3 families, 5 commu-
nities and 2 schools; Spiritual favors, for 26 persons, 5
families, 6 communities, 4 congregations and 3 schools.
The following specified intentions have been received:
The particular intentions of a religious, prayers for
which are especially requested in the middle of July,—
Prayers for some young men who have not yet made
their First Communion, — Return of some young men
to their home and to their religious and social duties,
—The blessing of the Church for several persons only
civilly married, — The happy termination of two pend-
ing events for a community,— Conversion for and
union of the members of a divided family.
FAVORS obtained.
The following favors have been reported in letters
received during the week: " I am happy to inform you
that I have obtained employment. Many thanks to
you for your kind prayers, and to Our Lady of the Sa-
cred Heart, for I am sure it was through her interces-
sion that I obtained this favor." ... "I was sufiering
for twenty-five years from the bad efiects of a dislo-
cated ankle. After using some of the water of Lourdes
I felt no more pain in that ankle or limb." . . . "A lady
of this city requests a Mass of thanksgiving for the
restoration of her health by means of the water of
Lourdes. For years this lady suffered much from
rheumatism. This spring she made a novcna, taking
at the same time some of the blessed water. Many
days had not elapsed when she was restored to health,
which she had not enjoyed for years, notwithstanding
every medical attention had been paid her." ..." We
got some water of Lourdes from a friend, which prec-
ious gift restored to us, almost from death, one of our
religious who had been confined to her bed for sixteen
mouths, but who on the 8th of May, after applying the
Ave Maria.
447
water and drinking a few drops, arose and dressed
herself. She was cured of several infirmities long ago
pronounced incurable by the physicians."
OBITUAUIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: James and
Mrs. Maky McGerigan, of County Derry, Ireland.
John J. Shekleton, of Dubuque Co., Iowa. James
MuLQUiNN and John J. Mulquinn, of Philadelphia.
Mrs. D. W. Johnson, of Ranges, Ind., who died on the
15th of April, leaving a devoted husband and six little
children to mourn her loss. Peter Beemillbb, of
Bedford, Pa. Mrs. Margaret Burtle, of Litchfield,
Ky., a life-subscriber to the Ave Maria. Patrick,
Michael and Miss Margaret McGerigan. Miss
Margaret Ranen, Caledonia, Wis. Miss Mary Mc-
Mahon, of Oil City, Pa. Martin J. Curtin. Michael
Hacket, of Fort Howard, Wis., who departed this life
on the 15th of May.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Director.
Note.— A letter addressed to Miss Mary Brennan,
Homestead, Pa., has been returned by the postmaster.
iChilbren's Department.
The Children of the Roses.
In a dark, desolate dwelling in a crowded
quarter of a large city, quite close to the residence
of the rich, once lived a little cripple boy. He
had no mother to bathe his feverish brow, no
gentle sister to whisper sweet words of affection
into his ear. No: all alone on his hard couch
he lay suffering, withovit sympathy, the pains and
languor of a long illness. His sole enjoyment
was a few stray sunbeams which stole in through
the tattered roof like a smiling messenger sent
from God. With what delight he hailed each
day this faithful visitor, which brought back
bright visions of the past; his early childhood
spent amidst fragrant flowers and verdant mead-
ows returned to him once more, and each day he
longed to cull those sweet flowers. At length his
desires overcame his weakness; he seemed to
acquire a new strength, and, rising from his couch,
he entered the narrow street, treading his way
timidly along among the jostling crowd who
pushed and rejected him at every step. Guided
by his good Angel, he proceeded on his way.
As he advanced, he noticed that the houses grad-
ually became more spacious, and the streets much
wider, until he reached a region where the beau-
ties of nature seemed to unite with the grandeur
of art. These mansions of marble were sur-
rounded by extensive parks whose spreading trees
shaded soft lawns spangled with bright flowers.
One of these houses in particular attracted our little
friend, and as he approached the rails of the
garden he saw a beautiful little boy whose merry
laugliter, rosy cheeks, blue eyes and golden hair
seemed to vie with the most beauteous flowers
and merriest birds. The pitiful countenance of
the little sufferer attracted the child of fortune,
and, approaching him, he slipped a piece of
money into his hand, saying: "Take this, little
boy, and buy some bread." A soft "Thank you"
was the sole reply, while his eyes rested long-
ingly on a fair bed of roses unfolding their car-
mine petals beneath the sun's bright smile, which,
noticing, our little cherub broke off with his
fair hand a cluster of the brightest flowers, say-
ing: "I see, little boy, that, like me, flowers are
dearer to you than moneys
"Tears of joy and gratitude filled the little
boy's eyes as he uttered a profusion of thanks
and immediately withdrew, bearing home with
him his treasure.
All was now forgotten — his hunger, weariness
and pain; his bright roses repaid for all; the
bright sunbeam seemed never to vanish. With
what care he tended his little slip! But, alas!
terrestrial beauties are transient, and now a cruel
fear seized our little invalid. It was that his
roses would fade.
Poor little suflerer ! your fears are groundless ;
faster than your transient roses does your frail
life draw to a close ; in fact before the last car-
mine petal of the flower fell, the slender thread of
this child's life was nipped. Over the hard couch
of suffering an Angel had bent to execute the
commission received from on high; a few mo-
ments, and the task was accomplished. There
was a suflerer less on earth, an angel more in
heaven.
Let us again visit the mansion of the great.
The grandeur and beauty yet remain ; but an un-
welcome visitor has intruded, which the rich
cannot repel any more than the poor. On a soft
bed, hung with rich heavy curtains, lies a wasted
little form in whom one would scarce recognize
the buoyant little being pictured in our first
sketch. His features are now crimson with
fever, his restless limbs toss convulsively about,
his parched lips and clammy brow display the
ravages of a mortal disease. A bereaved mother
watches in agony by his bedside; she has re-
jected all the services of her domestics, that she
may tend alone her precious child. Suddenly
the listless eyes open, a smile once more wreathes
his lips, and he joyously exclaims: "Oh! roses!
the sweet roses!" The fond motlier, thinking her
child calls for his favorites, runs to the open
window to cull some flowers; but alas! during
u^
Ave Maria.
her absence death seizes his fair prey ; she returns,
to find the inanimate corpse of her darling child.
A brother Angel came to carry the little child
to the bosom of the Common Father before that
joyous life would be blighted by the tempests of
the world.
And now while the two wing their way heaven-
ward, our little hero, leaning his head on the
shoulder of the Angel, asked him to tell him
the reason why in passing over a narrow, dingy
street he flew down and picked up off the pave-
ment a few faded roses. Then the Angel, smiling,
recalled the story of the little boy whose sad life he
had rejoiced by a bunch of roses.
"How did you learn this ?" asked the artless
child.
"I myself was that little boy," was the Angel's
reply; "and it is to recompense you for your
charity that our loving Saviour sent me to bring
you to our celestial Garden before the world's
storms would have you taste aught of its bitter-
ness.
The Happiest Day.
It was the evening of Corpus Christi, in the year
1840. The church of the great Parisian seminary
was deserted, for the procession of the Blessed Sac-
rament was just over. The air of the garden
which surrounded the seminary was still perfumed
by the incense which had arisen in the clouds be-
fore the Lord of heaven and earth, as He passed
on His way of mercy, shedding blessings on all
those who knelt to adore Him ; but the Blessed
Sacrament had been carried back to the altar, and
the tabernacle was once more closed on the Pris-
oner of Love. Almost all who had assisted at His
triumph had retired; only a few persons still lin-
gered round the altar in sweet converse with their
God.
Three boys were standing in one of the walks of
the garden. The red ribbon and silver medal
which hung round their necks marked them as
First-Communicants. Tliey were talking of the
happiness which they had that morning for the
first time enjoyed. " Oh ! " said a boy with merry
blue eyes, and a bright smile, " this is the happiest
day of ray life. I am so sorry it is nearly over, for
I can never have another like it. What do you
think? " he said to one of his companions.
"It is, indeed, a very happy day," replied the
other. " But I hope to have a happier one still : the
day on which I make my vows as a Jesuit; for I
hope by God's grace that I shall be one, and serve
Him in the especial Company of His Son. Oh,
that will indeed be a happy day! What do you
say, Herbert?" he continued addressing his other
companion, whose dark lustrous eyes and grave
and almost pensive expression of face told of a
more thoughtful disposition.
" There will be one still happier— oh, far happier,
for me," he returned. "This has been the hap-
piest day I have ever yet had. I too hope to be a
Jesuit, and that will be still happier, but the best
and brightest of all "—and his face lighted up as
he spoke, as if the longed-for happiness were al-
ready his — " will be the day of my martyrdom ; for
I hope to be sent to preach the faith in far-off
countries, and there I feel convinced that God will
grant my desire, and that I shall give my life for
Him who this morning has given Himself to me."
The prayer-bell rang out on the evening air,
warning them that their First-Communion day was
over, and bidding them offer their last thoughts to
God.
In a large town in the Corea there is an unusual
stir. It is scarcely light, and yet everyone is in
motion: some hurry to and fro, others stop to
question the passers-by. Some great event is
clearly at hand. Yes, it is a time of persecution,
and fifty persons of all ranks are this day to receive
the crown of martyrdom.
The procession is soon seen winding out of the
gate of the city, a cross of wood carried before it.
The martyrs, on whose faces the happiness of
heaven already glows, excite each other to courage
and perseverance. One of them is especially re-
markable by his manly and noble bearing. He is a
young missionary priest, and as we gaze on his
calm bearing, and eyes that tell of the ardent soul
within, we surely recognize the First-Communicant
of years ago. His happiest day had come ! Or-
ders had been given that he should be one of
the last executed, in the hope that the sight of the
various tortures of the other martyrs might move
him to renounce his religion rather than suffer the
like.
He had stood by unflinchingly, while his com-
panions went to receive their crown, longing for
the moment that was to give him his; and now
that his turn had come, he went forward with a
longing expression on his face that those who wit-
nessed it could never forget. He started when the
executioner spoke to him, begging him to re-
nounce his superstitious folly, again laying before
him all the advantages he would gain by renoun-
cing his faith. "Tempt me not," cried the young
priest; "it is useless. Hasten rather to strike the
blow which is to unite me to my God. Know you
not that this is my happiest day? Lord Jesus! I
come to Thee. For this I have always longed. I
come ; I come." So saying, he laid his head on the
block, and in the next instant was in the possession
of his God for all eternitj^and was enrolled in the
white-robed army of martyrs, who sing forever
the praises of the Lamb.
AVE MARIA.
Menceforth all genef\a.tions shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., JULY 15, 1876.
No. 29.
The Blessed Virgin.
In a recent sermon on the attributes of the Holy-
Mother of God, His Eminence Cardinal Manning
took for his text the following words from the 12th
Chapter of the Apocalypse of St. John : " A great
sign appeared in Heaven, a woman clothed with
the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her
head a crown of twelve stars."
The sign. His Eminence said, signified the In-
carnation. The woman was the Mother of the
Redeemer of the world ; the Child of whom the
context spoke was the Redeemer Himself Her
being clothed with the sun was a sign that she
was clothed with surpassing glory. The moon,
throughout Scripture, was used as a symbol of in-
stability, mutation, vicissitude and change, and
therefore of the world; all creatures under her
feet signified that she was the first of creatures;
and the crown of twelve stars signified the union
of all perfection on the head of that one person.
His Eminence then proceeded to show that the
glory of the Blessed Virgin is pre-eminent, sur-
passing the glory of all the creatures of God : sec-
ondly, that it has in it that which makes it singu-
lar in its kind, sets it apart and not only above,
and with a distinctness which makes it unique
and unapproachable. First, there was her essen-
tial glory : secondly, the glory of her Divine Ma-
ternity; thirdly, there was her glory in virtue of
the rights of her Divine Son ; fourthly, there was
her glory as the mother of all living ; and lastly
there was her accidental glory, which was the
participation of that of her Divine Son. "Why was
it the Catholic Church paid to her the reverence
and veneration which was called devotion, or, as
he desired and rather loved to call it, " worship,"
a good old racy ancient Saxon word ; our mother
tongue had in it a fragrance like the earth when
we turn it up. None but those who did not know
their Catechism could misunderstand the use of
the word " worship " ; and if they did misunder-
stand it, he would rather send them to learn their
Catechism than enter into a theological disquisi-
tion. Why had the Catholic Church dedicated
her sanctuaries to Mary, the Mother of God ? why
in every church was there a Lady Chapel ? Why
had we a series of Feasts all the year round, begin-
ning with the Annunciation, and ending with the
Assumption ? Why was it the " Hail Mary " was
put in the mouth of every child? Why is it to
the world, which in its ignorance and twilight
faith does not understand the glory of the hypo-
static union of God and man in the person of Her
Son, that we seem to go too far ? Because they do
not understand the real glory of the Incarnation
of Jesus Christ. He would ask what one thing
had the Church ever done or said which goes be-
yond what God has done and said for her sancti-
fication and her glory. He had sanctified her for
the sake of His Son, and for her own sake, be-
cause He made her to be the Mother of His Son.
Among the first fruits of God and the Lamb, before
the throne in heaven, would be the Blessed and
Immaculate Mother of God, and before the throne
of her Son, with her many diadems and the crown
of twelve stars which she wears would be a crown
purchased in His Precious Blood; and in the
midst of all the Alleluias of heaven, she would say
as the least saint of heaven would say, " By the
grace of God, I am that which I am." He had to
speak a word of duty to them, if they knew not
the Blessed Mother of our Redeemer as they
ought. Not to call her Blessed was a mark of an
imperfect faith and of a cold heart. He asked
them who were not of his flock — would to God
they were — if they honored the Blessed Mother of
our Redeemer as they ought? Did He not honor
her? did He not venerate her ? Did not all His
disciples do the same ? Did she not say, speaking
in prophecy, "All generations shall call me
Blessed " ? And yet perhaps they had carped at
450
Ave Maria.
the honor which Catholics gave her. Those who
were of his flock he asked if they had paid to her
the veneration which was her due ? Not one of
them— they were far from the example of her Di-
vine Son.
St. Alphonsus laid down a rule which was a rule
of wisdom derived from the Holy Ghost. He said
that as to the glories of the Blessed Mother of
God, whatever the faith did not prohibit him to
believe, whatever was not inconsistent with any
decree of the Church, whatever was not forbidden
by the light of nature, that he believed with joy.
What conception of her sanctification could they
have that would go beyond the immensity of grace
which he had endeavored to draw out? What
conception of the dignity of her person could they
have which surpasses the dignity of the Divine
Maternity ? Let them cherish that conception as
aflFectionate children of her who was the Mother
of God and their Mother. They had to make rep-
aration for not having honored her as they ought,
and for others round about them. They had to
make reparation for England, the tradition and
title of which was the Dowry of Mary once, but
now, since three hundred years, had wrecked her
sanctuaries, pulled down her altars, and abolished
her festivals, and had become mute, so that the
public voice of England does not call her Blessed
any more. Let them pray to her, pray to her Di-
vine Son to pour out the light of faith upon Eng-
land, upon the whole world, he might say; the
warfare between the seed of the serpent and the
seed of the woman, the woman clothed with the
sun, is fierce, and though not more fierce at this
day than at any other period of the century, more
stealthy, more perilous, because more secret. Let
them pray that God would pour out the light of
faith that men might understand the mystery of
the Incarnation and submit themselves to the rule
of the King who has all power in heaven and on
earth, and then they would know how to love His
Blessed Mother.
If grace be the measure of glory, and if the grace
of the Blessed Mother of God be an immensity, as
her grace was, so is her glory. Let them have this
conception, and they would be elevated in the
whole life of mental prayer ; they would be ele-
vated in all the conceptions of their filial relations
with God: a tenderness would come over the
hearts of men, and the high and noble character
of conscious dignity over those who were but
handmaids.
O Mary, Mother of God, we bless you as the
treasure of the universe, the inextinguishable torch,
the crown of virginity, the sceptre of good doc-
trine, indestructible temple, abode of Him whom
nothing can contain. — St. Cyril.
Fold Thy Mantle Round Me, Mother.
BY DR. PATRICK J. HIGGINS.
Fold thy mantle round me. Mother,
For my soul is weak to-day;
Sin essays her voice to smotlier.
Seeks to lead her steps astray;
And her tear-blind eyes look toward thee,
Thro' the gloom of sin's dark night;
And in anguish she is waiting
For the sea-star's guiding light.
Fold thy mantle closer, Mother,
Let me hide myself within,
For I'm weary, weary watching,
And I fear my foes will win ;
But beneath thy mantle holy
Let me, faint and weary, hide ;
For I feel and own my weakness,
And the strength of sin's dark tide.
Ah, this weary, weary watching!
How I wish it all were o'er!
And the frightful thought of straying—
Straying to return no more:
Still, I know 'tis but the watchful
Ever enter Heaven's gate;
And I know that, to be worthy,
We must work and watch and wait.
But the righteous e'en may falter.
And go down beneath the wave —
Oh, when sinking 'neath the water,
Mother, stretch thy hand and save,—
Save, and ask our dear Redeemer
To take back the life He gave.
For there is no fear of sinning
In the land beyond the grave.
Soon may come the welcome message
That will call my soul away !—
Ah, but facing Heaven's justice.
Sin-stained soul, what dost thou say?
—Be my soul in hell or Heaven,
Mother, may I bless thy name! —
'Twould rob hell of half its torment
To but love thee still the same.
SCRANTON, Pa.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER III.
The rain had fallen in torrents all night, but it
ceased towards morning, and when Mr. Ring-
wood set out for the chapel the sun- was peeping
through the clouds, and the mists were rolling
up like smoke from the nearer hills, unveiling
the Twelve Piers, that rose, like " a mystic range
of mountains," serene in their sharp outline
against a pale opal sky. The ground was a per-
fect slush, but, as Burke remarked to Mr. Ring-
wood when the latter was mounting a fat cob at
Ave Maria.
451
the door, what did that matter when it was "fine
and dry ov^erhead ? " He went almost at a foot-pace
to avoid getting an ascending shower-bath of mud
in his face; as it was, he was splashed to the el-
bows by the time he reached the chapel. On his
way hither he saw the people trooping down from
the hills, far and near, — the men in their thick
frieze coats, the women in their scarlet and blue-
hooded cloaks, the Colleen Bawn which a caprice
of fashion has made so well-known to us all of
late years. Many were shabby and worn, but the
effect in ^the distance was none the less pictur-
esque, as the bright colors glowed in the early
sunlight. Though Mr. Ringwood was punctual
to the minute, he found a number of persons wait-
ing for him; those who wanted to "spake to the
priest" were not likely to keep Am waiting. It
was a wretched-looking place, more like a barn,
as Lady Margaret said, than a house for Divine
worship; the walls, once clean with whitewash,
were mouldy and marbled with green and black
stains where the rain had come in ; the roof was
thatched, and you could see the thatch peering
through in many places, the light in some. The
floor was earthen, like the floors of the surround-
ing cabins, uneven and damp; the altar was in
keeping with the rest; the bare little tabernacle
had been gilt once in a time, but it was a very
long time ago ; every trace of such splendor had
long since been worn away, and it now showed a
surface of soiled, discolored wood ; there was a fine
old ivory crucifix on the top of it, and on either
side a brass candlestick; a stone Madonna in a
niche to the right completed the adornment of the
sanctuary. The scene that presented itself to
Mr. Riugwood as he entered was as striking as
the place itself. Groups of peasants were kneel-
ing before the poverty-stricken shrine, praying as
he had never seen people pray before; no one
could behold their faces, as they turned them to-
wards the tabernacle, and doubt for a moment but
that they believed it to be the dwelling-place of
the Holy of Holies — His dwelling-place only ; He
Himself was not there, but the spot where He
came so often and rested was hallowed in the
eyes of their ardent faith, as the Sepulchre was to
the disciples. Strong, powerful-looking men were
saying their beads, or muttering their prayers;
the women, more demonstrative, prayed almost
audibly, opening and shutting their hands, or
stretching them out in the form of a cross as they
apostrophized the crucifix or turned an appealing
look to the Madonna; some had babies in their
arms, and it was a pretty sight to see the little
creatures sucking their thumbs contentedly and
gazing with wistful, wondering eyes into their
mothers' faces, while the latter prayed away, ap-
parently unconscious of them, hugging them and
loosening them according to the spasmodic
promptings of their devotion. One woman held
up a very small baby at arm's length, as if dedi-
cating it to her who was clasping the Babe of
Bethlehem to her immaculate heart; she was
praying very loud, but Mr. Ringwood only caught
some, as he thought, barbarous-sounding ejacula-
tions; the scene was so touching and significant
that he could not help standing some moments
surveying it from the threshold. At last Dan
Torry, who had been on the lookout to make him-
self useful in taking the cob, stole in behind him,
and suddenly it became known that the priest
was there. There was a faint but general mur-
mur through the groups; all moved aside to
make way for his Reverence, whether they were
in his way or not, while Dan led him to the sac-
risty. The place dignified with this name was
little more than a recess behind the altar, with no
furniture beyond a ricketty chest of drawers and
one straw chair; a few prints were mouldering in
black wooden frames on the wall. On enquiring
whether there was a sacristan, Mr. Ringwood was
informed that there was not; when Father Tim
came he brought his own boy ; and when Father
Pat came, young Quin acted in that capacity.
" And is he to be had now ? " asked Mr. Ring-
wood.
" Oh ! yis, yer Riverence ! He'll be in shortly."
"And where are the vestments kept? Does
Father Pat bring them ? "
" Oh, no, yer Riverence ; we have vistments of
our own ; but it's young Quin that keeps them."
"And he serves Mass, I suppose?"
"Oh, bedad he does, yer Riverence; and he's
an iligant hand ; he used to have a thrick o' run-
nin' away at the Kyrie., niver knowin' whin to
stop, but shure Father Tim cured him o' that long
ago ; he was down with the faver, last Michael-
mas, but he's fine and hearty now."
Being thus enlightened on the qualifications of
young Quin, Mr. Ringwood suggested to Dan that
it might be a wise measure to go and fetch him:
it had struck nine, and the people were pouring
in rapidly.
"Are there many wanting to come to confes-
sion ? " he enquired.
"Yis, yer Riverence, there's a good score o'
them; but maybe ye don't spake Irish?" said
Dan, with a twinkle in his eye that said very dis-
tinctly what his own opinion was as to the chances
of that accomplishment being forthcoming.
" No, I do not, unfortunately," said the English
priest; "but can they not confess in English?"
"Oh, yis, and faith and some o' them can, j^er
Riverence, but the rest couldn't if they was on
452
Ave Maria.
their deathbeds and the divil waitin' to catch 'em."
"Then you had better at once step out and say
that those who can only confess in Irish must wait
till Father Patt comes," said Mr. Ringwood, as he
proceeded to put on his surplice.
As Dan opened the sacristy door to deliver this
message, a tall, hale man, on the shady side of fifty,
came in, carrying a long, flat box under his arm.
" Here he is himself, yer Riverence ! it's young
Quin ! " cried Dan.
"Oh! you are come with the vestments; you
bring the wine and the altar-breads also, no
doubt?"
"Oh, bedad no, yer Riverence! Father Patt
brings them himself," replied young Quin, laying
down his box, and rubbing his chin with the back
of his hand.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Mr. Ringwood, in
dismay, " and are none to be had now nearer than
Ballyrock?"
" Sorra a bit nearer, yer Riverence."
Here was a dilemma.
" Surely there must be some mistake about this,"
said Mr. Ringwood ; " Father Patt knew I was to
say Mass here this morning, and if he knew there
were no altar-breads he would have taken care to
provide me with them."
" Shure and it's a wondher he didn't ! " said Quin.
" Would it be possible to ride over to Ballyrock
and be back in time with them ! " enquired Mr.
Ringwood, looking from one to the other of the
men.
" Oh ! bedad, sir, it 'ud be asy enough if we had
a baste to ride," said Quin.
"There's the cob, yer Riverence!" said Dan;
shure the Gineral 'ud niver mind if I clapped on
his back and wint off to Father Patt myself! "
"The very thing!" said Mr. Ringwood; then,
on second thought, he added : " or suppose you
sent a boy — some little fellow who would ride
lighter than you, and so be back sooner ; is there
a boy you could trust?"
" Oh, yis, yer Riverence ! there's Joe Barry's
little chap, Billy Barry; he'd do it furst-rate, and
be back before I'd be half way."
"Then send him off at once," said Mr. Ring-
wood.
Meanwhile Quin announced to the congregation
in Irish what had happened, and presently Mr.
Ringwood came out and seated himself on a chair
near the altar, which did duty as a confessional.
One by one they came up and knelt down be-
side him, young men and old, venerable mothers
and comely maidens, simple, docile, unsophisti-
cated souls all of them. The English priest took
them to his heart at once; he read them like an
open book. Anyone might read them : untutored
and unspoiled, they were as guileless as little
children with the priest, though Lady Margaret
told wonderful stories of their preternatural cun-
ning and shrewdness. Nothing struck him more
than the utter self-forgetfulness and absence of
human respect their demeanor manifested ; they
groaned and sighed and beat their breasts until
you would have thought their lungs were in dan-
ger of being pummelled into a consumption ; it
was as clear as daylight that they had lost all
thought or consciousness of any other presence in
the chapel but God and the priest; it did not mat-
ter a straw what any one thought of them, or how
any one construed their vehement demonstrations
of contrition. Mr. Ringwood declared afterwards
that he had never so realized the divine character
of his ministry as while administering the Sacra-
ment of reconciliation to that poor Irish flock in
their mouldy barn of a thurch.
There were not more than a dozen who came to
confession ; the others were prevented by the dif-
Acuity about the language. As soon as Mr.
Ringwood had done with them he went into the
sacristy, whither young Quin at once followed
him. He was thinking what he could do now
for the people until the messenger returned; it
was no use preaching to them, since so few would
understand; there were no Stations up, or he
might have had the Way of the Cross.
"You will all be very tired, I'm afraid, waiting
so long for Mass," he said.
" Not a bit of us '11 mind that, yer Riverence ; if
ye'd jist give us the bades we'd niver think o' the
time."
" That's a very good suggestion ! Tell them that
I am going to say the Rosary ; we shall have plenty
of time for the whole fifteen decades; but will the
congregation be able to follow me, do you think ? "
"Lord love yer Riverence!" protested Quin;
"shure they'll say it in Irish on the bades, while
y're givin it out in English; the Blessed Mother
o' God understands ivery language."
Mr. Ringwood accordingly took his beads and
knelt down on the altar-step, and began the pray-
ers, in English, the entire congregation joining
with a unison that showed how perfectly at
home they were in the devout exercise. The en-
tire rosary was finished, and then having no fur_
ther service for occupying them, he took out hig
breviary and began to say his Office. The most
profound silence had succeeded to the loud sound
of voices which had filled the chapel a few min-
utes before; some were saying their beads over
again to themselves, sitting on their heels; others
were still kneeling, and not a few left the chapel
and waited in the road. A full hour must yet
elapse before the messenger could be back. Sud-
Ave Maria.
453
denly there was a movement amongst the people
outside, which quickly communicated itself to
those in the chapel ; a sympathetic thrill seemed
to run through the assembly. Mr. Ringwood
continued saying his Oflice; gradually the sub-
dued murmur rose to something more definite,
until the sound of a horse's hoofs coming along
the road were audible, and a joyous buzz all
around him explained the cause of the sensation.
The boy was come back with the elements for
the Holy Sacrifice. Quin hurried out to see
whether this good news could be true, and, find-
ing that it was, he hastened back to inform Mr.
llingwood.
" It's him, yer Riverence ! " he whispered, in a
sotto wee shout into Mr. Ringwood's ear ; " it's the
boy from Father Patt." Father Fallon had, it
seemed, j ust recollected the oversight at the very
time that his dismayed representative was being
made aware of it at Barrymore, and he had imme-
diately dispatched a person with the necessary
elements, so that the two messenges met half way.
Mass began, and the fervor which Mr. Ringwood
had hitherto admired was as nothing compared
to that he now witnessed. There was nothing
to stimulate it outwardly— no incense, no music,
not the simplest chant ; but the perfume of faith, the
music of fervent, impassioned prayer were there
in a sweet and wondrous degree. The miserable,
neglected chapel, which bore no small resemblance
to the poor cave of Bethlehem, seemed pervaded
with the spirit which sanctified that first altar
whereon the Divine Victim had offered Himself
up for His creatures ; the shepherds were there,
personified by the simple peasants, whose faith
rendered them worthy of a place beside the ear-
liest worshippers at the Manger. Poverty was
there, with her attendant train of virtues, humility,
detachment, and unworldliness ; spiritual joys were
there, such as the children of this world dream
not of; all these precious things were present in
those believing hearts, and filled the squalid tem-
ple with a divine and tender light. Truly the
people were assisting in the Sacrifice of Calvary
that was being offered by the priest ; they were
not merely spectators — they were actors in the
divine and living Mystery. One alone stood
in the midst of them an alien and a looker-on ;
cold and critical at first, until gradually and im-
perceptibly drawn into reluctant sympathy with
the supernatural spirit of the atmosphere around.
Lady Margaret had been obliged to go to church
alone this morning, the Colonel alleging that
some important letters which had to be written
made it impossible for him to accompany her.
She was vexed about it; it annoyed her that he
should absent himself just the Sunday that they
had a Catholic priest in the house; it consoled
her, however, to think that the priest would know
nothing about it; but a perverse fate here again
interfered to contradict her. The service of the
church was over just as Mass began in the chapel ;
the brougham stood waiting for her at the door ;
she got in, and was bowling smoothly over the
muddy road, when suddenly, without the slightest
premonitory kick or warning of any description,
the beautiful bay horse came down on his knees.
The servants were quick enough to clutch the
rail of the seat and save themselves from being
flung off by the suddenness of the shock; they
at once got down; the coachman ran to attend
to the horse, while the footman went to see that
his mistress was not unnecessarily frightened. It
would have taken a good deal more to disturb
Lady Margaret's presence of mind.
"Open the door, and help me out," she said,
quietly, and, gathering up her long silk skirts, she
alighted in the mud, and proceeded to examine
into the cause of the accident. It was a very sim-
ple one ; the horse had come upon a rolling stone
which brought him down in an instant; he did
not seem at first to be much injured, but on getting
him upon his legs it was discovered that his knees
were more or less severely cut, and were bleeding
profusely. There was nothing for it but to unyoke
him and walk him home quietly, and then send
another horse back to take on the brougham.
" But is there no place where I can stay mean-
time ? Is there not a cottage somewhere near ? '*
said Lady Margaret, looking up and down the
road, that shone like a river of liquid mud, while
a few drops began to fall.
" The chapel is the only place handy, my lady,"
said the footman; "it's not more than twenty
yards round the corner."
Lady* Margaret gathered up her gown, and be-
gan daintily picking her steps on a stone here and
there, so as to avoid being " dhrownded " in the
mud, as the servants said, and proceeded to seek
shelter in the chapel. There were several men
kneeling in the open air, close to the door, which
stood open at its widest ; they had come evidently
prepared for this emergency, provided with wisps
of straw which they used as cushions to kneel upon ;
some hung their hat on their stick, others hid
their faces in it as they prayed ; they might have
had standing-room indoors, but they preferred
remaining outside where they could kneel. Lady
Margaret came up so noiselessly, tripping through
the slush, that no one heard her, and she stood
for a moment considering the scene, the crowded
chapel, and the group of men outside, until one
man turned round and saw her ; he rose at once,
and so did all the others ; they had seen the horse
Jl,54 *^^^ Mai'ia.
ed by, and guessed there liad been an accident.
Lady Margaret made a sign that they were not to
disturb themselves, and advanced softly towards
the chapel ; she would have remained outside, but
a light shower had come on, and she was quite
unsheltered, not having even an umbrella; she
slipped into a corner, and remained unnoticed
except by those near the entrance. It would in-
deed have taken something more than the quiet
advent of a new-comer to move or distract the
congregation. For the first time in her life Lady
Margaret beheld an assembly of human beings
worshipping God ; it was no decorous ceremonial,
but an act of worship in which every faculty of
mind and body were engaged. The sight was as
impressive as it was novel; Lady Margaret felt
abashed, as if she had stolen uninvited into some
sacred place where m3^steries beyond her ken
were being accomplished; a feeling like awe
took possession of her as she stood there in the
midst of her own people,— those ignorant, half-
savage creatures, as in her inmost heart she had
somewhere regarded them, and an unaccountable
sense of inferiority seized upon her. They seemed
to be in some region above her ; their eyes were
opened to a vision that she could not see; their
ears heard a voice that she could not hear. What
did it all mean? What power was lifting up
these vulgar peasants to communion with the
Unseen, and glorifying their faces as with a light
from heaven ? Her eyes wandered over the crowd,
and she saw one after another the coarse, rough
countenances touched with it, glowing, transfig-
ured. Her guest, the gentlemanly English scholar
of last night, had undergone a corresponding
transformation ; she could not see his face, it was
bent over the altar, and his form was concealed
by a sacrificial garment of some sort ; it looked
strangely solemn nevertheless, and in harmony
with all around. But what is this movement
amongst the spectators ? A long-drawn breath is
audible from many; a little bell rings, the priest
drops on his knees, and then a suppressed cry,
something between a cry and a sob, an inarticu-
late utterance in which joy, terror, triumph are all
blended, breaks from the assembled multitude;
there is a moment's deep hush, and then half ut-
tered exclamations are heard through the ranks of
the worshippers : " Glory be to the Father and to
the Son and to the Holy Ghost! Glory be to the
Trinity, One, Holy, Indivisible! Cead mille
failtha! white Love of our hearts, a hundred
thousand welcomes ! " The words were in Irish,
but Lady Margaret knew enough of the native
idiom to make out the sense ; if she had not un-
derstood a syllable, the tones and gestures would
have been ample explanation. Never had she
been so nearly subdued by the mere force of hu-
man sympathy into a blind, spontaneous act of
faith as by the contagious force of the wonderful
scene. She felt an almost irresistible impulse to
fall on her knees and adore this awful Presence,
awful and yet loved and near, which was so visi-
ble to others, though invisible to her; she con-
trolled the impulse, however, and remained still
and unobserved in her corner until Mass was
over, and the people began to pour out. It was
only when she saw the curious glances they cast
towards her that she became conscious of the
awkwardness of her position ; in some she read an
expression of astonishment and welcome; all
dropt their curtsey as they passed; Lady Mar-
garet wondered what they were dipping those
strings of beads into a bucket by the door for, and
then dashing them against their faces, while they
pronounced some hearty formula in the vernacu-
lar. But now a carriage was heard approaching,
and the people gathered by the side of the road to
see it draw up and to watch her ladyship get in.
Just as she was doing so, Mr. Eingwood came
out.
" Shall I take you back ? It will be pleasanter
than riding home in the mud ? " she called out, in
her bright, animated tones.
" Thank you ; I shall be very glad ; the pony
will be glad too, for he has had more work than
he bargained for this morning," replied the
priest, getting into the carriage ; " you have had an
accident, it seems."
" Nothing serious, happily. I must tell you,""
she continued, as they moved off, and a faint sus-
picion of a blush rose to her cheeks, "I must
tell you that I have been scandalizing the natives.
I actually crept into the chapel, and stayed there,
a wolf amongst the sheep, for nearly half an hour.
I did not try to devour any of them, though ; and
I hope I did not terrify them much."
" I thought they looked scared : that explains
it," observed Mr. Ringwood ; and that was all he
said.
Neither of them were in a mood for conversa-
tion. Lady Margaret would have given a great
deal to be able to say out all that was in her
mind, to ask some explanation of the strange
experience she had just witnessed; but a mixture
of pride and timidity prevented her. Her com-
panion on his side was absorbed in his own
thoughts. He had been, in a different way, as
much surprised and as deeply stirred by the scene
in the church.
In coming to Connemara he had had the idea
of reconnoitering the land with a view to getting
leave later to come and evangelize some of the
poor mountain villages where dirt and disaffec-
Ave Maria.
455
tion flourished side by side with misery and su-
perstition ; he had heard their condition described
by a Protestant member of Parliament, who had
seen all that was wanting on the surface, and re-
ported it without any conscious exaggeration,
while the blessings that were concealed beneath
altogether escaped his observation. It was with
his mind full of these mistaken notions, floating
it is true on an undercurrent of inborn prejudice,
that the refined and zealous English priest had
come to Ireland. lie had not been forty-eight
hours in the country, and already his ideas had
undergone a complete change. Whatever else
the people needed, they certainly did not need to
be evangelized; they had the faith, and they held
it with all their might and main ; it seemed less
like faith, as the generality of people understand
it, than a living reality which formed a part of
their actual lives— a palpable something which
they touched and handled and grasped as a most
precious and substantial possession.
[to be continued.]
Louise Latcau.
a visit to bois d'haine.
[Continued.]
The area of Belgium is 11,363 square miles, and
the aggregate length of railways amounts to 1,960
miles. If we reckoned the number of our railways
by our shocking disasters, we might well think that
we excelled the rest of the world in this method of
travel. The ever-watchful Governments of the
Continent manage to regulate even steam, and to
rob it of its explosiveness by the number of rules
imposed upon those intrusted with its care. To
their old-fashioned eyes, success is no criterion of
prudence ; whether the train executes a foolhardy
feat without a hair's breadth of injury being done
to the freight of human life, or whether it hurls its
cargo of souls into eternity, the crime of impru-
dence is considered equally heinous. Thus every
railway employee is careful to avoid that which,
even if successful, will cause him to lose his means
of livelihood. As soon as we recovered from the
dizziness naturally felt on descending from a train,
we decided to leave our travelling-bags on deposit
at the railway station and then spend our time in
rambling about the streets of this Paris in minia-
ture until the hour of departure of the Tournay
train. We tried to direct our steps towards the fa-
mous Cathedral of St. Gudule, but although it is so
conspicuous an object when Brussels is seen at a
distance, we failed amid threading the labyrinth
of streets to see its lofty spires. We did however
enter a church dedicated to St. John the Baptist,
just in time to hear one of those late Masses so
severely criticized by American Catholics. We
never did belong to that school of piety ( ? ), and too
frequently have we thus felt the benefit of this
kind arrangement to have much patience with
such critics. After Mass we walked around the
church and examined the diflferent altars, com-
paring the various incentives to devotion with
those of the same class in other countries. How-
ever interesting a minute description of this
church might prove, it must necessarily be de-
ferred until later.
We returned to the depot, reclaimed our luggage,
and taking our places in the train we were borne
still further westward. For several hours we had
as a travelling-companion a woman of the class
that wear plain white caps instead of bonnets,
caps very much like our widows' cap. In both
Belgium and Fran(?e, the women of the middle
and lower classes rarely ape the fashions of ladies
of rank, and in fact they would be ashamed to ex-
change their plain black cashmere dresses and
their neat white caps for the garb of a class of so-
ciety to which they do not belong. They under-
stand too well that under the law of God honest la-
bor has a respectable rank, and that the true way
to " raise themselves " is to honor the station of
life in which they have been placed by Divine
Providence, by becoming, and remaining, steady,
honest servants. The French and Belgian maids
would scorn to dress themselves like their mis-
tresses ; they feel that their own garb is equally
honorable, and they have not the least desire to be
confounded with those flippant characters who
under the pretence of a laudable ambition seek to
place themselves where they may indulge in indo-
lence. This maid seemed, despite her plain black
dress and her simple cap — the badges of servitude,
as some might term them — to be very well informed
on all local items, and to have a certain keen judg-
ment rarely possessed by those who are occupied
with the whims of an- envious ambition. The con-
versation turning on Bois d'Haine, we learned that
one of the priests of her village had witnessed the
weekly miracle, afterwards testifying to his con-
gregation that it was far more wonderful than
could be imagined.
She herself had been to Bois d'Haine, but she
had failed to gain admittance to the Lateau cot-
tage. She had knocked at the door, and for a long
time she had received no response. Finally, one of
Louise's sisters deigned to come out and speak to
her. The maid in vain entreated for admittance,
and even produced as peace-offerings some pretty
prayerbook pictures, which Louise's sister took —
456
Ave Maria.
steadily refusing, however, to allow the maid to
satisfy her pious curiosity.
•' Why do you want to see her ?" said she ; " she
is a peasant girl like any other peasant, just like
yourself; look at me, I resemble her very much."
" They tell me," said the maid to us, " that I
should have written long before, to announce my^
self; who knows ?"
"Was it generally believed in Belgium?" we
inquired.
"Believed! Oh, yes; every one in the whole
country knows that Louise Lateau suffers every
Friday. The infidel journals say that it is a med-
ical secret, of which the priests make use to deceive
the people ; but who can know how to do a thing
like that !" And her gray eyes shone Avith intense
amusement at this absurd idea of incredulity.
" Why did her sister treat you so brusquely ? "
we asked.
" Oh well, they are a simple peasant family, never
accustomed to see anyone save their own neigh-
bors, who like themselves lead a poor, retired life.
Now they find this publicity very disagreeable, and
if they had their own way no stranger would ever
enter their door."
The morning had threatened rain, and the drip-
ping clouds were fulfilling every portion of that
menace when at the close of the afternoon we
alighted at Tournay, the ancient " Civitas Nervi-
orum," the first capital of the Merovingian dynasty.
But our minds were far away from either its an-
cient splendor or its modern interest ; we thought
only of our lodgings, which fortunately we found
not far from the railway station, in the modest
Hotel Bellevue, which was a pretty faithful copy
of our resting-place at Louvain. Let it not, how-
ever, be supposed that Belgium is " so far behind
the age " as not to possess any magnificent hotels ;
for these also exist in all her cities, and like
those of the other parts of the Continent they
sport the very suggestive title of d'Angleterre and
d'Amerique, showing thereby whom they expect
for their guests. The natives, and the genuine
traveller who comes for the sake of art and relig-
ion, are very careful to avoid these scenes of fash-
ion and flirting and to choose the more simple
inns for their places of repose.
For the present we had nothing to do save to
rest ourselves and to visit the fine old churches,
until the arrival of the letter from Rome. In
speaking on the subject with one of the Redemp-
torist Fathers, the one who fulfils the ofiSce of
''pro Anglica " in Tournay, we were told by him
to make our application immediately.
" Others are permitted to witness the miracle,"
said he, " and why not you ? Don't wait for that
letter from Rome,— go and see our Bishop; he is
very amiable, very affable, and besides he has
been a missionary in your country. Speak Eng-
lish ! of course he does. Why he was pastor of a
church in Detroit for many years."
In accordance with this advice we presented
ourselves at the door of the episcopal palace,
where the porter, unlike the one at Spires, received
us very politely, telling us that the Bishop's re-
ception hours were in the morning, when he did
not doubt that Mgr. Dumont would be pleased to
see persons from the country where he had spent
so many years of missionary life.
We did come at the hour indicated, and were
ushered into a spacious reception-room whose
lofty proportions were truly palatial. The furni-
ture was extremely simple, being confined to a
narroM' strip of hemp carpeting extending across
the middle of the floor, the whole length of the
room ; plain green morocco chairs, and portraits
of former Bishops of Tournay. While making
these observations, and contrasting the simplicity
of European palaces with the extreme luxury
deemed a necessity by the upper classes in Amer-
ica, an ecclesiastic entered and began to question
us brusquely.
" Were we personally acquainted with Mgr. Du-
mont ? "
"Then why did we wish to see him ? "
" No, he had never been pastor in Detroit, but
in a village several miles distant from that city."
"Mgr. Dumont was not the owner of Madame
Lateau's house ; it was not to him that we should
apply for permission to enter it."
" Then," said our mother, " it is of Madame Lateau
that we must demand permission to witness the
miracle?"
He was startled for an instant— as well he might
have been, — for although we were not aware of the
fact, Madame Lateau had been in her grave sev-
eral months. He however soon replied :
"Go to M. le Cur6 of Bois d'Haine; it is he
whom you must ask."
He left the room as abruptly as he had entered
it, and soon returned with a bit of paper upon
which was written the address of the pastor of
Bois d'Haine ; and at the same time that he ex-
plained how very difficult it was to gain admis-
sion on account of the number of applicants and
the sraallness of space, he gave us such ample
railway information that it was evidently his
chief desire we should leave instantly for Bois
d'Haine, so as to be as far away from the Bishop
as possible.
That perhaps it might give the Bishop pleasure
to hear from his old parishioners, many of whom
might prove to be our relatives or our friends,
and that these in turn might be pleased to receive
Ave Maria.
457
news of their former pastor, seemed to be ideas
of which the old gentleman had no conception.
As we left the reception-room, and the words
advising us to compensate ourselves for any prob-
able disappointment by planning a tour in Bel-
gium had just been uttered by him, we caught a
glimpse of a purple robe, and we saw the mild
and gentle face, which, having remarked at the
Cathedral service, had inspired us with the con-
fidence to approach the Bishop. Mgr. Dumont
was coming to the reception-room, but the eccle-
siastic stepped forward and said a few words in a
low tone. The Bishop looked puzzled, while we,
too confused, too perplexed by the cross-question-
ing through which we had passed, to even re-
member to ask his blessing, went down the broad
stairway into the court, where the porter gazed
wonderiilgly at us. Evidently persons from that
country where his master had been a missionary
always made longer visits wlien they entered the
episcopal residence of Tournay.
"We walked slowly through the Cathedral square,
almost disheartened ; it was a nearer view of the
obstacles which had first loomed on om* mental
vision at Cologne, and which had assumed a more
definite form since our conversation with our
travelling companion. It was evident that the
Rev. gentleman had no idea that anything save
fresh disappointment awaited us at Bois d'Haine,
so these obstacles appeared almost insurmount-
able. Bois d'Haine was proving a pilgrimage,
for trials and diflEiculties were shaping a pilgrim's
cross. [to be continued.]
My Dream.
I dreamed, O Queen, of thee last night,
I can but dream of thee to-day.
But dream ? O I could kneel and pray
To one who like a tender light
Leads ever on my troubled way
And will not pass— yet will not stay.
I dreamed, O Princess, regal Queen,
That I had followed thee afar.
And faithful as the Polar Star;
But then, as now, I had not seen
The day I dared draw near to thee,
But followed, worshipped silently.
I dreamed you roamed in elder land;
I saw you walk in splendid state
With lifted head and heart elate.
And lilies in your white right hand
Beneath the proud St. Peter's dome,
That lords above almighty Rome.
A diamond star was in your hair.
Your garments were of gold and snow
And men did turn and marvel so,
And men did say how matchless fair,
And all men followed as you passed;
But I came silent, lone, and last.
And holy men in sable gown,
And girt with cord, and sandal shod,
Did look to thee and then to God.
They crossed themselves with head held down.
They chid themselves in fear that they
Should, seeing thee, forget to pray.
Men passed, men spake in honeyed word
Men passed ten thousand in a line.
You stood before the sacred shrine ;
You stood as if you had not heard.
But when I came at your command
You laid two lilies in my hand.
O Lady, if by sea or land,
You yet might weary of all men,
And turn unto your singer then,
And lay one lily in his hand,
Lo! I would follow true and far
As ever seaman tracked a star.
My soul is young, my head is strong;
O Lady reach a hand to-day
And thou shalt walk the Milky Way;
For I will give your name to song.
Lo ! I am of the kings of thought.
And thou shalt live when kings are not.
0 reach a hand, your hand in mine,
Why, I could sing as never man
Has sung since prophecy began.
And thou shalt be both song and shrine —
Nay! what have I in her esteem?
The minstrel may but sing and dream.
Joaquin Millbb.
'Frank Leilas Illustrated Newspaper.
The Miraculous Host of Augsburg.
Although true Catholics, those who are well
grounded in the faith, ask no other proof of the
real presence of our Lord in the Holy Sacrament
of the Altar than His unerring word, when, taking
bread. He said, "This is My Body," and the
wine, "This is My Blood," and commanded, and
thereby empowered, the Apostles and their suc-
cessors to do this same act in commemoration of
Him; yet the Divine goodness has added many
visible proofs, for its own wise purposes, thus to
confound the enemy. The faithful and practical
Catholic can say with St. Louis, when he was
told of the consecrated Host that had taken the
form of a smiling infant in the hands of a priest
during Mass, and was, as such, visible to all pres-
ent— who when asked to go and see the miracle,
said : " Let those who doubt the real presence of
Clirist in the Most Holy Eucharist go and see it.
As for myself, I believe it as firmly as if I beheld
458
Ave Maria.
Jesus Christ in tlie Holy Host with the eyes of my
body."
The following account of one of the many visi-
ble proofs of our Divine Lord's real presence in
the Holy Eucharist is taken from a work entitled
" The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass," by Rev. Fr.
Miiller, C. 8S. R : "There exist a great number
of hosts which are called miraculous, because of
the wonderful facts connected with them. The
history of that of Augsburg, in Germany, is one
of the most celebrated and most authentic. In
1194 a certain woman went to receive Holy Com-
munion, in the Church of the Holy Cross, in
Augsburg. Immediately after receiving, she took
the Sacred Host and put it between two pieces of
wax, and thus kept it for five years. During all
that time she suffered an agony of interior tor-
ments. To rid herself of her remorse of conscience
she at length took the Blessed Sacrament to Father
Berthold, a pious priest, the Prior of the Convent
of the Holy Cross, and declared to him her great
crime, and readiness to perform any kind of pen-
ance in expiation of it. The good priest consoled
the truly penitent woman and encouraged her to
hope in the mercy of God. On taking the two
pieces of wax apart, he beheld, instead of the species
of bread, human flesh, and even the muscular fibres.
When he tried to detach the wax from both sides
of the Host, the better to contemplate the Blessed
Sacrament, the Sacred Host split at once in two, so
as to remain, however, attached to the wax and
united by the muscular fibres. Almost beside
himself at this wonderful occurrence, he was at a
loss as to whether he should keep it secret or
make it public. After mature reflection he con-
cluded to consult several men of discretion on the
subject. He was advised to put the wax with the
Host in a sealed box and keep it until the Bishop
of Augsburg should have given his decision on
the matter.
" On learning of this miraculous event, Udal-
skalk, then Bishop of Augsburg, was greatly
amazed. He went immediately with his clergy
and a large number of the laity to the Church of
the Holy Cross, and in solemn procession carried
the Sacred Host, with the wax, to his Cathedral.
After the wax had been taken off, they all were
surprised at seeing the Host become three times
thicker than it w^as before. From this time to the
Feast of St. John the Baptist the Sacred Host used
to increase in thickness, especially during Mass,
to such an extent that the wax came off by itself
"without any human intervention.
" Bishop Udalskalk, convinced of the truth of
the miracle, put the wax, with the Blessed Sacra-
ment, which kept the appearance of human flesh,
in a crystal case and carried it again in solemn
procession to the Church of the Holy Cross, where
it has been preserved with the greatest reverence
to the present day. Every year processions num-
bering from twenty to thirty thousand men have
come to this church to adore our Lord in this
miraculous Host.
"It would scarcely be expected that such an
event should escape contradiction. In 1486 Leo-
nard Stunz, a priest of the Cathedral, called the
miracle in question. He ascended the pulpit sev-
eral times and most vehemently inveighed against
the devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, maintain-
ing "that all that had been said about this Host
was but a fiction, and the story of an old devotee."
The people felt highly indignant against him,
whilst all unbelievers applauded what he had
said. As soon as Frederick III, then Bishop of
Augsburg, heard of the scandal, he ordered this
priest to leave the city, withdrew the Sacred Host
from public veneration, and kept it under lock
and key in a wooden box until it had been exam-
ined anew. Just about this time Henry Justitu-
toris, the Papal Legate, came to Augsburg. The
Bishop showed him the miraculous Host, and re-
lated to him all that had happened. At the request
of the Bishop, the Papal Legate examined the
Sacred Host, after which he wrote a learned dis-
sertation on the subject, showing that the Blessed
Sacrament is still a real Sacrament, containing the
Body of our Lord, even though the species of bread
should disappear, and, instead, human flesh and
blood should become visible. This he wrote
against Leonard Stunz, who had maintained that
the Sacred Host should no longer be worshipped,
since instead of the appearance of bread, human
flesh could be distinctly seen.
"The Legate and Bishop then referred the mat-
ter to the learned Professors of the celebrated Uni-
versities of Ingolstadt and Erfurt, who unani-
mously declared that the Sacred Host in the
Church of the Holy Cross in Augsburg was the
Blessed Sacrament, and should as such be vener-
ated and adored. After this, the Bishop again
examined the Sacred Host in presence of his
clergy and other learned men. They distinctly
saw human flesh as before, and as indeed it
may be seen to the present day. The result of
this examination and the declaration of both
Universities were forthwith announced from the
pulpit, and the miraculous Host was again, to the
great joy of the people, exposed on the altar for
public veneration and adoration. From that time
thousands of pilgrims flocked to the Church of
the Holy Cross to worship our Lord in the mir-
aculous Host. The number of pious pilgrims,
however, considerably increased in proportion as
the extraordinary favors which our Lord in the
Ave Maria,
459
miraculous Host bestowed on the pious worship-
pers became more generally known. I will here
relate three of these extraordinary favors, for the
edification of the pious reader.
"In IGU, Mary Maximiliana, sister of William
V, Duke of Bavaria, was taken sick with acute
pain in her chest. The physicians had tried every
remedy to procure her some relief, but in vain.
One day the Duke happened to speak to his sister
of the great miracles wrought by our Lord in the
miraculous Host in the Church of the Holy Cross
at Augsburg. On hearing the account of these
wonders, Mary Maximiliana conceived great con-
fidence in our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.
She dismissed her physicians and caused herself
to be carried from Munich to the Church of the
Holy Cross in Augsburg, where she asked our
Lord in the miraculous Host to cure her. Her
prayer was immediately granted. She rose up, un-
aided by any one, perfectly cured. To show her
gratitude to our Lord, she had this miracle an-
nounced in all the Catholic churches of Bavaria,
and requested the clergy and the people to join
her in giving thanks to our Lord in the Blessed
Sacrament for her miraculous cure.
"In 1620 Bartholomew Holzhauser, a great
servant of God, was attacked by the pestilence,
which then raged in Augsburg. He had recourse
to our Lord in the miraculous Host and was
delivered from the epidemic.
"In 1747 a poor man in Augsburg who had
been dumb from his very infancy, and was known
by all in the city, prayed several times to our
Lord in the wonderful Host to obtain his speech,
but apparently w^ithout being heard. One day,
however, he prayed with unusual confidence, and
with tears in his eyes, to obtain the same favor.
This time his request was granted. Full of joy,
he ran home to make known the miracle our
Lord had wrought in him. After the Bishop had
sufficiently convinced himself of the miraculous
fact, he had a solemn Te Deum chanted, and all
the bells of the churches rang out in thanksgiving.
"The miraculous Host has often been examined
since, and every new examination furnished new
proofs of the Real Presence. All the Bishops of
Augsburg, to the present day, have venerated and
adored our Lord therein, thus forming a chain of
the most trustworthy witnesses of the great truth.
But the faithful too have been most anxious to
pay their homage to our Lord in this miraculous
Host. Up to the present time their devotion to
Him has not diminished, in spite of all the im-
pious clamors of infidelity. And oh ! how many
prayers has not our Lord there heard! How
many extraordinary favors has He not bestowed
upon the pious pilgrims w^ho went thither, and
had recourse to Him in their necessities, whether
temporal or spiritual."
<«»
How a Priest took Revenge.
About the year 1829 there was seen every day an
old beggar, whom everybody knew by the name of
"Jacques," at the entrance of one of the principal
churches in Paris. He was always abstracted and
gloomy, kept perpetual silence, and when he re-
ceived an alms he thanked with a slight bow.
Under the poor rags in which he was clad, a nice
little cross was remarked on his breast.
In the same church a young priest, the AbbI
Paulin de , used to say Mass every day, and
whenever he entered he never failed to give poor
Jacques some alms. Being the descendant of an
illustrious and rich family, this young man after
entering the priesthood used his immense wealth
in assisting the needy. Without, however, know-
ing who he was, the old beggar had for him the
sincerest affection.
One day Jacques was not seen at his usual place,
and as some days had already passed without his
returning, the young and zealous Abbe, fearing
that something might have befallen him, inquired
out his dwelling in order to look for him. Hav-
ing learned it, he went the next day, after Mass, to
the house where Jacques lived. They showed
him to the mansard attic in the sixth story. He
knocked at the door; a feeble voice said: '■^ En-
trez,''^ and the priest went in. He found the beg-
gar sick in bed ; his cheeks were pale, and his eyes
seemed to be losing their sight.
"Is it you. Monsieur I'Abbe?" he said to the
priest. " It is very kind in you to visit so misera-
ble a man as I am; assuredly I do not deserve
such attention."
"What is that you say, dear Jacques? Don't
you know that the priest is the friend of all the
miserable? Besides," he added, smiling, "we are
old friends."
" Oh, dear sir, if you only knew me you wouldn't
speak so well of me. I am a wretch, cursed by
God."
" Cursed by God ! How can you entertain such
thoughts, dear Jacques? Do not speak in that
way. If you have done evil, repent of it and con-
fess it. God is mercy itself, and forgives all who
return to Him."
" No ! no ! never will He forgive me ! "
" And why not ? You don't repent, perhaps, of
the evil you have done?"
" Oh, I do repent!" exclaimed Jacques, groan-
ing, and rising to a sitting posture on his poor
couch, his eyes distended; "oh yes, I repent; al-
JfGO
Ave Maria.
ready thirty years' repentance gnaws my heart,
but yet I am accursed ! "
In vain did the good priest try to console him
and to inspire better sentiments. A terrible secret
was on his conscience, and despair hindered him
from confessing it. All hope seemed to have left
him. Finally, touched by the mildness and affa-
bility of the priest, Jacques, with dying voice, re-
lated his history.
" I was," he began, " castellan of a rich family^
when the Revolution broke out. My lords were
goodness itself. The Count, the Countess, their
two daughters and their son — to these I owed all
I had: position, education and fortune. The
Reign of Terror came on; the revolutionists sought
for the Count and his family, but could not find
them, because they had taken shelter in a place
which nobody but I alone knew. I then went to
the commissioner and informed him, and why?
In order to obtain their possessions, which were
falsely promised to the one who would give infor-
mation of the family. They were all condemned
to death, because I had betrayed all — all except the
little Paulin, who was yet too young."
An involuntary cry escaped from the lips of the
young Abbe, whilst a cold sweat covered his fore-
head.
" Sir," continued the dying man, who had not
remarked the great excitement of the Abbe, " sir,
it is horrible ! I listened to them when they were
condemned to death. I stood at the gate of the prison
when all four, one after the other, ascended the
cart; rushing through the crowd and keeping my-
self near the cart, I saw them on the scaffold ; I
beheld the four heads falling from under the
knife, — oh, I, the monster ! since that time I have
neither rest nor peace ! I weep, I pray for them ;
but I behold them continually before me. There
they are under that stuff." And the old man
pointed with shuddering hands to a curtain which
partly covered the wall. " The crucifix over my
bed belonged to the Count; the small golden cross
on my breast was the Countess's. Oh, God ! what
have I done! And how have I repented of it!
Monsieur I'Abbe, have pity on me; do not reject
me ! Pray for the most wretched of men ! "
Pale as death, the young priest knelt down near
the bedside, and prayed silently for half an hour.
Then he rose quietly, made the Sign of the Cross,
and drew the curtain from the wall. He beheld
two portraits. The beggar cried out when he saw
them, and fell back on his bed. The priest wept
bitterly.
" Jacques," said he, in a trembling tone, " I'll
hear your confession, to obtain you the Divine
forgiveness."
When the dying man had received absolution.
the Abbe continued: "Jacques, God has forgiven
you ; out of love for Him I also forgive you ; know
now, then, whom you have given up to death —
they were my father, my mother, and my two sis-
ters."
The hair of the beggar stood up ; he opened his
cold lips once more to speak, but could bring
forth only some unintelligible sounds; then he be-
came still and motionless. When the priest, pray-
ing further and kneeling, bent himself over him,
the beggar had passed into eternity.
Such was the love of a priest for his enemy.
Catholic Notes.
Mrs. A. T. Stewart recently made a donation of
$3,000 to the Catholic Orphan Asylum of New York.
We return our sincere thanks to Rev. Angel
Casanova, pastor of the Church of St. Charles Borro-
meo, at Monterey, Cal., and to Rev. Fathers Curran
and Galera, Castroville, for favors rendered the Ave
Maria.
Conformably to the order of our Rt. Rev. Bishop,
the 4th of July was religiously celebrated at Notre
Dame. At ten o'clock, solemn High Mass was sung
by Rev. Fr. Colovin, C. S. C, assisted by Rev. Fr. Bige-
low, C. S. C, as deacon, and Rev. Mr. Kelly, sub-
deacon, after which followed Benediction of the
Blessed Sacrament and the Te Dmm. Quite a large
congregation was present.
A letter from California mentions the fact that
Rev. Hugh Curran, Pastor of the Church of Our Lady
of Refuge, at Castroville, is about to erect a new
church at Salinas City, to replace the old edifice there,
which has become too small for the increasing con-
gregation. Father Curran and his worthy assistant,
Rev. Joseph Galera, besides the churches at Castro-
ville and Salinas City, also attend to the spiritual
wants of the Catholic residents at Natividad, New Re-
public, Sotoville, Gonzales and Soledad stations.
The once splendid Cathedral of Alessandria,
Italy, has been destroyed by fire. The body of the
venerable building was entirely burnt to the ground,
but the famous Chapel of the Madonna della Salve
was saved and the miraculous statue of our Lady
which it contains was found uninjured. This fact ap-
pears all the more astonishing when we are assured
that the silver covering which enveloped the venera-
ble image melted away under the heat of the fire, and
that the ancient wooden figure was left untouched.
A most extraordinary event lately occurred at
the convent of the Trappistine nuns, Notre Dame aux
Gardes (France). A lay-Sister, the sister of the Very
Rev. Father Prior, was suddenly and thoroughly cured
of a complete paralysis of the lower limbs, with which
she had been confined to her bed or easy chair for
two or three months. Even the last rites of the
Church had been administered to her. On the day
previous to her cure she was carried into the church
to hear Mass, and the following day she was able to
Ave Maria.
461
approach the railing in perfect health and receive
Holy Communion. This miracle has been made
known to us by a Cistercian Abbot in the United
States.
The Ccecilia for July has a continuation of the
articles entitled "The Liturgy and the Practical Mu-
sician"; "Church Music and the Liturgy"; a sched-
ule of Psalms, Antiphons, Hymns, etc., for the month
of July, according to the Liturgy; "The Cecilian Fes-
tival in Baltimore, for August 22d, 23d, and 24th; cor-
respodence from choir-masters and others in various
parts of the United States; a short notice of Missa
Sancta Paulina and Missa Sancta Anna, op. vii and viii
of the celebrated composer Kaim — the first for three
voices, soprano, alto and bass; the second, for so-
prano, alto, tenor and bass. The music accompanying
this number is an *' 0 Sacrum Convivium^^ and a "Pie
/csM," by Rev. J. C. Bischoff, President of the St. Ce-
cilia Society in Switzerland, and a " Tantum Ergo "
by Rev. J. B. Jung.
The saintly successor of Saint Francis de Sales,
Monsignor Mermillod, gave lately, on his return from
Rome, in his episcopal chapel at Annecy, in presence
of the Association of Pius IX, a splendid eulogy on
the Pope. "I went to Rome," he says, *'and what
did I see? I have seen many things mournful, but
also many things giving great hope. I have seen
that holy old man to whom the world is offering in-
sults because it does not know him; stripped of his
possessions, and a prisoner, he still sees the nations
at his feet. Every day he receives communications
by the hundred from all parts of the globe. The Vat-
ican has become like a perpetual annunciation. From
five in the morning till ten at night, the time of Pius
IX is taken up like that of no other Bishop or priest.
He carries the weight of his eighty-seven years with
a majesty and a vigor which drives his jailors to mad-
ness and despair. His soul remains calm and serene
amidst the roaring storm, because his faith teaches
him the certainty of the final triumph. What a mir-
acle, gentlemen, is this providential existence! "
Rev. Father Foresta, of the Society of Jesus,
has just died at Avignon. He was the founder of the
Apostolic Schools, the scholars of which are all des-
tined for the most distant foreign missions. The first
of these schools was commenced at Avignon, then
followed those of Bordeaux, Amiens, and one in the
New World. The Archbishop of Avignon, in the fu-
neral sermon preached by him on the saintly priest,
gives this Christian hero the following eulogy: "God's
mercy does not end here. He is not satisfied only
with having angels in heaven, and sending them to
minister to us, but would also have terrestrial angels
here on earth. In His ardent desire to glorify our hu-
manity. He has often selected, and is still selecting
among us, some privileged beings whom He invests
with an angelic nature, and who shed such a brilliant
lustre on our mortal form that one cannot regard
them without thinking of the heavenly spirits."
On Thursday, June 22d, her imperial Highness
the Empress of Brazil, attended by her suite, paid a
visit to the Convent of the Sisters of Mercy, Broad
Street and Columbia Avenue, Philadelphia, Pa. She
was received by the Mother Superior, the Sisters, and
the young ladies of the Academy, who were ranged
on each side of the long hall. Each one received a
gracious salutation as her Majesty, conducted by the
Mother Superior, passed to the chapel, where she
knelt for some time in prayer before the Blessed
Sacrament. The young ladies then preceded her Maj-
esty to the assembly-room which was beautifully
adorned with the Papal, the United States, and the
Brazilian flags. Here they formed a guard of honor,
through which the Empress passed to the elevated
seat prepared for her. She remained standing while
the Brazilian national hymn was played and till all
the children had passed to their palces on the plat-
form, acknowledging and returning the salutation
of each. An address was made to her Majesty in
Spanish and in French. On departing, her Majesty ex-
pressed to the Sisters and their pupils her sincere
thanks and her great pleasure at the entertainment
she had received. She passed to her carriage through
her "guard of honor," and drove away from the Con-
vent, leaving a most pleasing remembrance in all
hearts.
A new Feast and Ofllce of the Blessed Virgin,
just established by the Holy See at the instance of the
Fathers of the Congregation of the Most Holy Re-
deemer, was celebrated for the first time on the 18th
of June in Rome. A picture of the Mother of God
had been venerated for 300 years in a small Augustin-
ian church, between the Lateran Basilica and St.
Mary Major's, up to the period of the French Revolu-
tion, under the title of Our Lady of Perpetual Succor.
The church, during the anti-Christian uproar of that
time, was destroyed, and with it the picture itself, the
history of which is most remarkable, was supposed to
have perished. Such was not, however, the case, and
on the 26th of April, 1866, it was transported by order
of Pius IX from the private oratory, where it had been
preserved, to the Church of St. Alphonsus on the Es-
quiline Hill, where it still remains. The devotion to
this picture has extended with great rapidity over the
whole Catholic world, and the number of miracles
and conversions that have attested the sanction by
our Lord of this form of veneration towards His Im-
maculate Mother has been so great that the Holy
Father has erected the Association already existing in
its honor into an Archconfraternity. In Rome alone,
from five to six thousand persons are already enrolled
as members. This new Ofllce and Feast are restricted
for the present to the priests of the Redemptorist Con-
gregation, who will hereafter always celebrate it on
the Sunday preceding the Nativity of St. John the
Baptist.
Mr. Gustav Rasch, a German Protestant who
visited last year a house of the Good Shepherd at
El Biar, near Algiers, Africa, describing the wonderful
eflfects of the tender care of the good Sisters in re-
claiming fallen women, gives the following reasons
for the favorable result: "Not the isolated cell, nor
flogging, nor the penitentiary — no, the gentle per-
suasion and the charity of these poor Sisters of the
Good Shepherd, whose motto for life has become the
words of our Saviour: 'I am the Good Shepherd and
give My life for My sheep '—such are the only means
employed for the conversion of hardened sinners."
When meeting the Magdalens, who are such of the
penitents as did not wish to return to the world, hut
consecrated the remainder of. their life to God, he
cannot find words to describe the edification they gave
him. They made him quite forget that they had
come from among the forlorn and outcast. " Never,"
says the author, "did I more fully comprehend
the sublime truth spoken by the Divine Founder of
Christianity: There shall be more joy in heaven on
one sinner doing penance than for ninty-nine just.
I left the house of the Good Shepherd at El Biar
with feelings of reverence and admiration for these
devoted ladies, who had built here a sanctuary of truly
human and Christian usefulness, consecrating all
that otherwise could make life pleasant for women of
the world. Like the house of the Good Shepherd in
Berlin, I could not notice the slightest trace of self-
esteem, conventual prudery or religious bigotry.
They were not lost to mankind, these Sisters of the
Good Shepherd; no, they lived in their solitude a
life devoted to the poor and miserable of this world."
The truth of these remarks is evident, notwithstand-
ing the prejudices against the religious orders.
A religious celebration of no ordinary interest
took place under the ancient roof-beams of the beau-
tiful Church of St. Etheldreda, in Ely-place, Holborn,
June 23d, being the Feast of that Virgin Queen. A
most precious relic of the Saint having been restored
to the sanctuary— a portion of her hand, most wonder-
fully preserved— the first Mass after Three Hundred
Years was said in Saint Bridget's Chapel, in the Crypt,
by His Eminence the Cardinal-Archbishop of West-
m.inster. Solemn High Mass was afterwards sung in
the noble Gothic church above the Crypt; and from
this time forward Masses will be said there every week-
day at half-past seven, at eight, nine, and ten o'clock,
with Benediction, Rosary, or other devotions at half-
past eight upon the evening of every one of these
week-days — confessions being heard "at any time"
according to requirement. Henceforth, too, on all
Sundays in the year, there will be four Masses, fol-
lowed by Benediction at three o'clock in the afternoon,
and by Vespere at seven in the evening. We take
especial note, here, of the arrangements thus made for
the restoration of the daily routine of services for the
offering up of the Adorable Sacrifice, and for the giv-
ing of the Benediction there day after day, because
this, as it seems to us, is the most signal reclamation
to Catholicism of a venerable shrine of Holy Church
that has been made since England was forcibly Avith-
drawn from her allegiance to the Holy See at the time
of the so-called Reformation. Every one of the faith-
ful in the metropolis who can possibly contrive to do
so ought to make a pilgrimage to St. Etheldreda, if
only to hear one Mass there: and in doing this, every
one of them will, as a matter of course, and as a most
sacred privilege, leave a coin there of more or less
value, according to each visitor's means, for the re
storation of this beautiful and ancient sanctuary.—
London Weekhj Begister.
Obituary.
Departed this life, at Notre Dame, Indiana, on
the eve of the Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed
Virgin (Julv 1st), Sister Mary Aimee de Jesus
(Miss Edith Dechene, a native of Upper St. Basil, N. B.)
of the Sisters of the Holy Cross, in the 22d year of her
age and the 2d of her religious profession. Sister
Marie Aimee was one of those pure, angelic souls who
seem lent by Heaven to adorn humanity and show us
its true dignity— an embodiment of the command of
our Divine Lord to be meek and humble of heart, as
He was, thusrendei'ing her ever a source of edification
and hallowed pleasure to all around her. Active and
talented, she spared neither in the service of God and
her neighbor, laboring zealously and cheerfully in
the vineyard of the Lord until within a few short
weeks of her early death. Her memory will long be
cherished among her Sisters as that of a model relig-
ious. May her precious soul rest in peace !
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report for the Week Ending July 1st.
Letters received, 88. New members admitted, 192.
Applications for prayers have been made for the fol-
lowing intentions: flealth for 91 persons and 2 fami-
lies. Change of life for 32 persons and 3 families. Re-
turn to religious duties for 15 persons. Conversion to
the faith for 18 persons and 4 families. Particular
graces for 4 priests and 6 religious. Temporal favors
for 20 persons, 4 families, 6 communities, and 4
schools. Spiritual favors for 20 persons, 4 families, 6
communities, 3 congregations, 4 schools and 2 sodali-
ties. The following intentions were specified: The
success of a retreat for a community of Sisters in Ken-
tucky,— Spiritual Protection for several well-meaning
young men, — The pressing needs of several families
whose heads are out of employment, — The grace of a
good retreat, an increase of subjects, and resources for
a religious community, — Peace and unity in a family, —
Aversion of a threatened loss of some valuable real
estate, justly owned by its present incumbents.
FAVORS OBTAINED.
The following extracts are from letters received dur-
ing the week : "" I wrote to you about two months ago,
asking your prayers for the leformation of Mr. ,
who was a great drunkard. For years he was given
to intemperance, each year getting worse. Thanks to
Almighty God and Our Lady of Lourdes he has en-
tirely reformed, which we regard as a great miracle."
"About a year ago I requested the blessed water
of Lourdes for my child, who had a turn in his foot
and could not walk. I received the precious water
and applied it. Thanks to our Blessed Mother, a very
short time after I used it his foot was as natural as the
other." "Mr. J. H. is a convert, and wishes to be a
Child of Mary; you remember, dear Father, that last
June I wrote to you concerning the conversion of a
family. He is one of its members. He and his sister
were baptized last Saturday, and he has two other
sisters who will be baptized in a short time. Thanks
to Our Lady of the Sacred Heart." ''I wish to in-
form you of what I believe to be a miraculous cure of
my little girl, six years old, who was very low with
scarlet fever and mumps. She was for three days
quite paralyzed in one side. She bade us all good-bye,
and told us she was going to heaven, I got a little
of the blessed water of Lourdes from a neighbor.
From the first time I gave the blessed water she com-
menced to improve. She first fell asleep for two hours,
and when she awoke she said: ' Mamma, the blessed
water made me better.' She started up in bed and
commenced groping around. After some talking
she again fell asleep, and remained so for nearly
three hours, so still that I thought it would be her
last sleep. When she woke up, to get a drink, she took
the glass in the hand that had been useless for three
Ave Maria.
463
days and nights, and continued improving. Now,
thank God, she is quite well."
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following persons: Sister Marie Aimeb
DB Jesus, of the Sisters of the Holy Cross, Notre
Dame, Ind., who died an edifying death on Saturday,
July 1st, eve of the Visitation of our Blessed Lady,
fortified by all the helps of our holy religion. Mr, Fred-
erick BuscHE, of Philadelphia, Pa., who departed this
life on the 15th of May, fortified by the last Sacraments
of the Church. Thos. V. Hasson, who died March the
3d, in Baltimore, and was interred in Philadelphia.
Rev. E. Kennedy, of St. Michael's College, Toronto,
Canada, who was called to his well-deserved reward
on the Feast of the Sacred Heart. James Flanagan,
Mart Flanagan, Nicholas Cummerford and Mary
CuMMERFORD, of Albany, N. Y. Mrs. Catherine
Stokes, who died May 30th, at Pittsburgh, Pa., fortified
by the Sacraments and perfectly resigned to the Divine
will.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Dirertor.
ithilbten's Department
The First Communion of Two Orphan Flower-
Sellers.
BY REV. ROBEIIT COOKE, O. M. I.
Some years since, a poor Irish Catholic died in
a miserable court in one of the poorest neigh-
borhoods of London. His wife soon followed
him to the grave. They left behind them, alone
and unprotected, two orphan children, who were
twin sisters. These poor little ones had been bap-
tized, but were too young, at the death of their
parents, to be instructed in their religion. They
could barely recollect that their dying mother
bade them always to remember that they were
Catholics. Years pass by, and they grow up in
utter ignorance of all religious knowledge. A
special providence watched, however, over them.
The baptismal grace was still fresh and un-
dimmed within their souls. A charitable person
set them up as flower-sellers. They were two fair
flowers themselves in outward form, but more
still in inner purity of mind and heart. Their
calling was one of great danger for children so
fair and so unprotected. But an invisible hand
was shielding them from evil. The lilies in their
flower-baskets quickly faded and withered; but
there was a lily within their young souls which
nothing could tarnish, sheltered as it was by the
special protection of Heaven, and by their own in-
stinctive modesty. In their sisterly attachment for
each other, they found a safeguard against the
intrusion of dangerous companions. They al-
ways remained together, and each was as the
visible guardian angel of the other. They had
now reached their fourteenth year, but had not
yet found their way to a Catholic church, nor
spoken to a priest. A mission, in which the
writer took part, opened in a church in their
neighborhood. The grace of the mission first
reached one, and then the other, of these young
souls. One day, during the mission, the writer
was accosted in the church by a young girl of
gentle manner, and of modest appearance, in
these words : " Sir, I have heard that kind gentle-
men have come hither to teach little children the
way to go to heaven. Will you please tell me
how I am to go to heaven, as I wish very much
to go there?" She then, in reply to questions
put to her, made known her simple, touching
story, as above related. The writer willingly un-
dertook the task of instructing one so eager to
learn. Having expounded to her point after point
of the doctrine of the Church, he at last ventured
to speak of our Lord's Real Presence in the
Blessed Sacrament. At first he hesitated to place
this great dogma before her, at so early a stage
of her religious instruction. He counted not on
the help his teaching was to receive from the gift
of faith which had been communicated to her in
holy Baptism. The doctrine of the Ileal Pres-
ence was scarcely proposed to her when her soul
seemed to rise at once to a perception of its beauty.
When her instructor first said to her that our
Lord was really present in the Holy Eucharist,
she exclaimed, with extraordinary energy, " Is it
our Lord Himself— Himself ?'' "Yes, my child,"
was his reply, " it is our Blessed Lord Himself,
who is willing to become the food even of your
poor little soul." Visible emotion rose to her
countenance ; she seemed for some moments lost
in deep thought. The Holy Spirit was, without
doubt, at that instant filling her soul with the
brightness of Eucharistic faith. Recovering some-
what from her emotion, she cried out, "How
beautiful — how beautiful ! " The writer witnessed
this scene with wonder. He was surprised to
behold how quickly this poor child, brought up
amidst the dregs of London society, in poverty
and ignorance, became the devout contemplative
of the great mystery of the Holy Eucharist. Her
young heart had scarcely caught the fire of the
knowledge and love of Jesus in the Blessed Sac-
rament, when she felt glowing also within it a
burning desire to communicate to her dear sister
the glad tidings which had reached herself. In-
terrupting her instructor with an apology, she
said : " I do wish that my sister could hear all
that I have heard to-day about the Blessed Sacra-
Jfejj,
Ave Maria.
ment. With your permission I will go in search
of her, and when she comes, you will kindly tell
her that our Lord is present Himself in the Blessed
Sacrament, and she will be delighted, I am sure,
to hear it." In a few minutes she returned in
company with her sister. They were sisters in
mind and heart, as well as in bodily resemblance
and kindred. The latter who presented herself
soon rivalled the former in devotion to our Lord's
Eucharistic Presence. After the lapse of some
days they both knelt together to receive, for the
first time, Jesus Incarnate into their loving hearts.
Many scenes were being enacted that day within
the precincts of the great city of London, but it
may be questioned whether any one of them so
fixed the gaze of Heaven as the First Communion
of the orphan flower-sellers.
The Perpetual Oblation.
Have our young Catholics ever thought that the
Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is being offered in some
part of the world every hour of their lives ?
When it is midnight in New York, Mass is be-
ginning in the churches of Italy. Their ancient
altars, at which saints have knelt, are lit up with
tapers, and the Vicar of Christ and thousands of
priests are lifting holy hands to Heaven. Think
of the hundreds of quiet chapels, —
Jesus there,
And Mary's image meek and fair,
And the dim light, with rich and poor
Scattered round the chapel floor.
While the tinkling beads they tell,
In whispers scarcely audible.
A little later and the bells of a thousand towers
in France begin to sprinkle the air with holy
sounds, and in every city, town and hamlet the
Divine Host is uplifted amid the radiance of
lamps and the incense of flowers, to stay the an-
ger of God from the land of His choicest favors,
and kneeling crowds adore His chastening hand,
and pray for sinners who despise His ordinances.
Chivalric and religious Spain catches the ech-
oes, and, when it is one o'clock in New York, ofi"ers
the great Sacrifice in countless splendid churches.
And then Catholic Ireland, the Island of Saints,
which has during so many centuries sufi'ered for
the faith, rallies anew round the altars it would
never forsake.
At two o'clock and after, the priests of the is-
lands of the Atlantic— perhaps the Cape de Verde
—white-robed and stoled, and wearing the great
cross on their shoulders, bend before the taber-
nacle.
An hour later, a courageous missionary lifts up
the chalice of salvation on the icebound coast of
Greenland.
At half-past four the sacred lamps twinkle
through the fogs of Newfoundland ; and at five.
Nova Scotia's industrious population begins the
day by attending Mass.
And now all the Canadian churches and chapels
grow radiant, as the faithful people,— the habitant
of the country, the devout citizen, the consecrated
nun, and the innocent child,— hasten to unite their
prayers around the sanctuary where the priest is
awaiting them.
At six, how many souls are flocking to the
churches in New York, eager to begin their day
ot labor with the holiest act of religion. Many
young people, too, gather round the altar then, or
at a later hour, like tlie fresh flowers which open
with the morning and offer their dewy fragrance
to Heaven.
An hour later the bells of Missouri and Louisiana
are ringing ; and at eight, Mexico, true to the faith,
bends before its glittering altars.
At nine, the devout tribes of Oregon follow
their loved black-gown to their gay chapels, and
California for a while loosens its grasp on its
gold to think of the treasure that rust doth not
corrupt.
And when the Angelus bell is ringing at noon in
New York, the unbloody Sacrifice is being offered
in the islands of the Pacific, where there are gen-
erous souls laboring for our dear Lord.
And so the bells go ringing on, on, over the
waters, and one taper after another lights up, as
one soul after another catches the light of faith,
making glad all the isles of the sea.
At two, the zealous missioners of Australia are
murmuring with haste, eager for the coming of
our Lord, Introiho ad altare Dei. And all the
spicy islands of the East catch up the sweet sound,
one after another, till, at four in the afternoon,
China proves there are many souls who are
worthy of the name of Celestial by their rapt de-
votion at the early rite. Then in Thibet there is
many a modest chapel where the missionary dis-
tributes the Bread of Life to a crowd of hungry
souls.
At six, the altars of Hindoostan, where St.
Francis Xavier ministered, are arrayed with their
flowers and lamps and sacred vessels, and un-
wearied priests are hastening to fortify their souls
before Him who is their Life and their Strength.
At nine, in Siberia, where many a poor Catho-
lic exile from Poland has no other solace for his
woes but the foot of the altar and the Bread of
heaven — God help him!
During the hours when New York is gay with par-
ties and balls and theatrical amusements, the holi-
est of rites is going on in the Indian Ocean and
among the sable tribes of Africa, whose souls are so
dear to the Saviour who once died for all, and
who is now daily offered by all.
At eleven in Jerusalem, the Holy City over
which Jesus wept, where He wrought so many
miracles, where He suftered and offered Himself
a sacrifice for the whole world.
When midnight sounds again in New York, the
silver bells are tinkling again in every chancel
in Rome. And so it goes on; the Divine Host is
constantly rising, like the sun in its course around
the earth. Thus are fulfilled the words of the
prophet Malachi : " From the rising of the sun
even to the going down thereof, My name is great
among the Gentiles; and in every place there is
sacrifice, and there is oftered to My name a
clean oblation: for My name is great among the
Gentiles, saith the Lord of Hosts."
Every hour we can and should unite ourseves
to the Masses going on in some part of the world,
thus adding new brightness to God's glory, aton-
ing for the neglect of others, and promoting our
own sanctification.— r/ie Toung Catlwlic.
If we stop i\iG first lie, we stop all the rest : if we
do not use the first profane word we shall never
use the second. If we are not disobedient ihe first
time, we shall never be disobedient.
AVE MARIA.
JiENCEFORTH ALL GENEi\A.TION3 SHALL CALL ME BlESSED.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., JULY 22, 1876.
No. 30.
Devotion to the Precious Blood.
" Monastic orders are the very life's blood of a
Church."
So wrote the immortal Faber in his Protestant
Life of St. Wilfrid. To us, who hold the writings
of him whom we think of only as " Father Faber"
in highest veneration and love, it is interesting
and instructive to look back to his career as a'Prot-
estant rector, when, honestly though most ab-
surdly, he was striving to graft Catholic practices
on the dead tree of Heresy. In the early days of
his conversion, he wrote to a friend: "Perhaps
few know how slight (Sacraments excepted, of
course) the change has been to me." Later on, he
began to realize how immense had been the
change, and finally could write of the state of con-
verts: "We had all things wrong, even right
things by the wrong end; and our heresy comes
out of us, and takes sometimes years in the pro-
cess." A year before his conversion we find him
boasting that he had become "very, very, very
Roman," and no doubt he thought his account of
St. Wilfrid was written in the true Roman spirit,
— never dreaming how far he was from Rom9,n
faith and feeling when he announced monastic
orders to be the very life's blood of a Church.
What an idea from him who was soon to become
to all English-speaking nations the Apostle of the
Precious Blood !
It might be useful for us Catholics to inquire if
our ideas are not sometimes more in consonance
with the errors of misbelief than with the teach-
ings of faith. Our own writers not unfrequently
think they are praising the-monastic state when
tliey tell us it is "the life of the Church," "the
heart's blood of the Faith." They forget for the
moment that the life of the Church is from the
Precious Blood ; that the heart's blood of faith
is the Blood of the Sacred Heart. Or rather, they
have not yet come to realize this truth, in all its
depth and meaning; for, once realized, it can
never be forgotten. Although it is a matter of
faith, yet, not being one of the fundamental dog-
mas, it is not so quickly comprehended and
learned as they. We know that all our good comes
from redemption, ^nd that we were redeemed by
the Precious Blood. But we do not know with
the same clear, distinct knowledge the many doc-
trines that flow from this. Such doctrines are
not to be learned in the Catechism ; they grow up
with devotional practices, slowly, imperceptibly
workiiig on the heart and mind. Hence the im-
perative need of the various devotions the Church
is now urging on her children. It is only through
these devotions that Catholics can now hope to
save their souls. Nay more, it is precisely by
these devotions that Catholics will henceforward
be most easily distinguished from the multitudes
assuming not only their name but their dogmas.
But to return to the devotion of the Precious
Blood. As it is the life of the Chufch, the Prec-
ious Blood is also, of necessity, the life of every-
thing in the Church. It is therefore the life of the
sacerdotal state and of the monastic state. For
this reason, neither priests nor religious orders
can exist out of the Church. There maybe exper-
iments tried, there may be imitations of the
priesthood or of monasticism adopted, but no
power can prevent the experiments failing, the
imitations becoming grotesque caricatures. The
Precious Blood flows only~through the channels
It has appointed." ~" Wine producing virgins,
have mercy on us!" we say in the Litany of the
Blessed Sacrament. 'The Blood of the Chalice
will always give us virgins to minister at the al-
tar, virgins for the monastic and religious life.
By remembering this we shall be preserved from
the common folly of esteeming the regular clergy
above the secular, or the secular above the regu-
lar. While, in practice, we may lawfully prefer
one to the other, we should guard against doing
466
Ave Maria.
so in theory. There are those who maintain that
inasmuch as Christ Himself founded the secular
clergy the regulars are not to be thought equal to
them. As if Christ no longer rules over the
Church as in His mortal life ! On the other hand,
persons insist that the secular priests are not now
what they were in the first ages of Christianity,
else there would be no occasion for regular or-
ders. Is the living Christ, then, to be the Head of
a stationary religion? Neither party can give
any good reason for their pet theory, but it is held
as tenaciously as if they held it to be of faith. De-
votion to the Precious Blood will teach us the
reverence due alike to all who dispense this awful
yet sweet mystery, and enable us to realize that
their greatness arises, not from priority of institu-
tion nor strictness of vows, but from the sublimity
of the priestly office itself. Of special importance
in our days is St. Paul's lesson on the subject:
"Let a man so account of us as of the ministers of
Christ, and the dispensers of the mysteries of
God."
It is almost equally necessary for us to remem-
ber practically the sacredness of the religious state.
We are in some danger of losing our keen sense of
this. Keligious are necessarily brought into contin-
ual contact with the world ; their office is to bring
souls to Jesus, and they must go after the stray
sheep into the great desert of the world, coaxing
them back, condescending to their caprices, and
going half way in their follies, if they would lure
them to the fold. So when we see religious tak-
ing part in things that seem unworthy their holy
state, we either censure them bitterly, or fondly
seek to justify them by asserting that they must
change with the times. All good religious feel
that their present position is fraught with danger,
but they know, too, that the peril being inevitable
God will bring them safely through it. We of
the laity must learn to trust Him for this as they
do. Devotion to the Precious Blood will make
clear to us the manner in which He vouchsafes to
work. How was the world redeemed? By the
shedding of blood. According to God's own de-
cree, it was thus, and only thus, that He could re-
deem us from sin. Without the shedding of blood
there could be no remission of sin. It is still shed
on the altar every day for the same purpose. We
know that our Divine Redeemer went about doing
good, preaching the Gospel, working miracles, in
order to rouse the tepid and slothful, calling sinners
to repentance. During three years He devoted
Himself to this as if He expected thus to accom-
plish the purpose for which He became man; yet
all the time He was longing for the time to come
when by his baptism of Blood the work should be
accomplished. Bearing this in mind, we can un-
derstand many things in the biography of saints
which horrify, disgust or provoke most readers-
even really pious readers. St. Alphonsus Liguori
thus recommends to all the spouses of Christ the
practices which fastidiousness condemns: "Dis-
ciplines, or flagellations, are a species of mortifi-
cation strongly recommended by St. Francis of
Sales, and universally adopted in religious com-
munities of both sexes. All the modern saints,
without a single exception, have continually prac-
tised this sort of penance. It is related of St.
Aloysius Gonzaga that he often scourged himself
to blood three times in the day. And, at the
point of death, not having sufficient strength to use
the lash, he besought the provincial to have him
disciplined from head to foot. Surely, then, it
would not be too much for you to take the discip-
line once in the day, or, at least, three or four times
in the week." And again, having described the
penitential lives of ancient solitaries, the holy doc-
tor continues : " I do not require such austerities
from religious of the present day ; but is it too
much for them to take the discipline several times
in the week, to wear a chain round some part of
the body till the hour of dinner, not to approach
the fire in winter on some day in each week, and
during novenas of devotion ? to abstain from fruit
and sweetmeats ? and, in honor of the Mother of
God, to fast every Saturday on bread and water, or
at least to be content with one dish ? "
This is the saint who is so often spoken of as too
easy a teacher, if not indeed positively lax! Yet
we see that he deems all these austerities mere
trifles, to be expected as a matter of course. This,
then, is God's way! The Precious Blood has not
only ministers at the altar, but helpers in the
cloister. All the work of redemption is not to be
accomplished by itself. This same principle shows
us also that the marvellous works of the saints rest
on a common basis : they are really the works of
the Precious Blood, which becomes at last the
life of the penance-worn body, robbed by its loving
imitation of a scourged, mangled Lord, of its own
natural blood. What wonder, then, if a lily
grows out of the blood of a Mary Anne of Quito ?
and if the blood-crusted chain of a Rose of Lima
exhales a sweet fragrance ? Such souls can with
truth say with St. Paul that it is no longer they
who live, but Jesus who lives in them.
All praise therefore be to our dearest Lord, the
Wisdom of the Father^ for giving us those *' relig-
ious communities," in which the most terrible and
humiliating of all His tortures is "universally
adopted." We could scarcely believe such a state-
ment from any but a saint. It is at once glorious
to the faith and encouraging to the faithful. And
how startling is the publication of such things to
Ave MaHa.
467
a God-defying world ! Well may the Church send
forth her records of liagiology, her libraries of as-
cetic lore. Every one of those volumes is a gaunt-
let flung scornfully in the world's face, daring it to
the combat. We read in the annals of our glori-
ous Revolution that a British oflficer invited to dine
with Washington and his staff found the dinner
consisted of sweet potatoes, roasted in the cinders
of the camp-fire ; what he thought of it was briefly
uttered to his commander: "I have seen the
American Commander-in-chief and his officers
dining on roots, and drinking water: what chance
have we against such men?" So it is with the
enemies of God and His Christ. The easiest way
to convince them of their folly, if not to turn them
from their impiety, is to let them know how the
heroes of His grand army live. What chance
have worldlings against the noble men and brave
women who crucify their flesh, the world's ally ?
This subject is not without practical importance
to us in our humbler sphere. It is becoming evi-
dent that we must soon abandon our favorite notion
that penance and self-crucifixion are only for the
saints. True it is that most confessors now, as in all
times, seem to discourage corporal mortifications.
Of course they are not as set against them as we
like to believe; though there are many reasons for
their objections, the most cogent one of all proba-
bly being that where God inspires a soul with
these desires, opposition will at once serve to mor-
tify and yet increase their fervor. But however
the state of the case may have been, all our pas-
tors are now urging on us the study of the science
of the saints. And what is the whole alphabet of
that science but penance and self-inflicted suffer-
ing? It is only as we advance in its study that
we come to the interior virtues and sublime ac-
quisitions which we poor sinners wish to start
with. What saint teaches us, by precept or exam-
ple, to begin with mortifying the powers of the
soul instead of the senses of the body? Not one.
With them, all bodily mortification went far in ad-
vance of mortification of the judgment or will.
We are for mortifying will and judgment first,
and attending to corporal mortifications later on.
The result of which sage process is that there is
no mortification in us at all, either interior or ex-
ternal. How did the saints acquire that strange
fancy for suffering which we are apt to think un-
natural as well as supernatural ? From their devo-
tion to the Precious Blood. "Sacrifice is pecu-
liarly the Christian element of holiness," says
Father Faber ; " and it is precisely the element
which corrupt nature dislikes and resists. . . .
Pain is necessary to holiness. Suffering is essen-
tial to the killing of self-love. Habits of virtue
cannot by any possibility be formed without vol-
untary mortification. Sorrow is needful for the
fertility of grace There is a smoothness
in the mere lapse of a comfortable life which is
fatal to holiness. Now, all the forms, and images,
and associations, and pictures, and ideas, of the
devotion to the Precious Blood breathe sacrifice.
Their fragrance is the odor of sacrifice. Their
beauty is the austerity of sacrifice. They tease
the soul with a constant sense of dissatisfaction
and distrust of whatsoever is not sacrifice; and
this teasing is the solicitation of grace. In time
they infect us with a love of sacrifice ; and to gain
this love of sacrifice is to have surmounted the
first ascent of holiness, and to be breathing the
pure air and yet treading the more level road of
the upper table-land of the mountains of perfec.
fion. It is the very mission of the devotion to the
Precious Blood to preach a crusade against quiet,
sinless comforts."
[Tor th« At« M»ri».3
Son, Give Me Thy Heart.
BY MARIE.
Ah! give thy heart unto the Sacred Heart!
There shall it rest, as in its safest shrine ;
No art can loose, no force e'er rend apart
The clasp that round each fibre shall entwine.
That mystic clasp! A Saviour's deathless love I
O bondage sweet ! O tender union blest I
Fair Eden-home, wherein the sacred dove,
Celestial Peace, shall find her fitting nest.
But is thy heart all foul with reeking crime ?
The den of vice, the drear abode of sin ?
Where serpent guile hath left its trail of slime,
And demon hosts have boldly entered in t
Yet give thy heart unto His Sacred Heart,
A stream[8hall flow through ev'ry throbbing vein
From Love's pure Fount, and lo ! the cleansing art
Of that sweet Flood will wash thy foulest stain.
And is thy heart all rent with grief and wo ?
A dark abode, o'erhung with Sorrow's pall ?
A dungeon dim, wherein no cheering glow
Of sunny ray, or starry beam can fall ?
Yet give that prison-house of wo to Him
Whose rays Divine within the tomb can dart,—
Brighter than day shall be those chambers dim, —
Give, give thy heart unto the Sacred Heart!
But is thy heart with worldliness all cold ?
A chilly clime, a bleak and barren soil ?
Whereon no blooms their fragrant leaves unfold.
No harvest rich repays the reaper's toil ?
Come near the flames that glow in Love's pure shrine,
And feel the heat, the wondrous heat they dart-
Thus Shalt thou win the blooms of Grace Divine,
And j^olden harvests from the Sacred Heart.
468
Ave Maria.
Then give each heart unto that tender Heart !
Fair Childhood's— home of innocence and truth,—
And, lest its first fond fervor shall depart.
Give, too, the fresh, the fiery heart of Youth !
Give Manhood's heart ! Bid heav'nly Love assuage
Its fierce world-fever, with divinest art ;
And give, at last, the " garnished shrine " of Age—
The home made ready for the Sacred Heart ! "
San Francisco, Cal.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER III— (Continued.)
While Mr. Ringwood was dwelling on these
things in his own mind, Lady Margaret's thoughts
were running in the same current. She still saw
hefore her eyes the crowd of weather-beaten faces
uplifted in adoration and touched with the radi-
ance of some mysterious light Had they really
seen a vision on that shabby altar, or was it only
the reflection of their own impassioned faith?
What treasures were hidden in those destitute,
miserable lives that could so illuminate them, and
lift them for the time being so far above all their
sordid cares? What was this seventh heaven into
which they were permitted to gaze, while she,
with her intellect, her education, and the inher-
ited refinement of generations of noble ancestors,
was unable to obtain the most distant glimpse of
it?
No wonder Lady Margaret was puzzled ; it was
a problem hard for her Protestant mind to solve.
She was every instant on the point of speaking to
Mr. Ringwood ; but some unaccountable perverse-
ness held her back; she was ashamed to let
him see how entirely she had been surprised
into interest and admiration by these illiterate
peasants. If he would but speak first, and say
something that might lead up to what she wanted
to say! But Mr. Ringwood remained plunged in
his meditations, listening to the strange cries that
resounded through the chapel at the moment of
the Elevation, and not hearing at all the voice
close by that was feebly calling to him.
Colonel Blake met them in the park.
*' Come out and have a stroll before lunch, Ring-
wood," he said ; and Mr. Ringwood alighted, and
they walked off arm in arm together.
" Well, how did you get on with your congrega-
tion?" was the Colonel's first remark.
" Admirably!"
"They are a rum lot, eh ? I suspect Fallon has
a good deal of trouble to keep them in order; but
they are not bad fellows, when you know how to
take them," said the Colonel, deprecatingly.
"Thoy are a wonderful people; I should ask
nothing better than to spend my life amongst
them !" exclaimed Mr. Ringwood, with genuine
warmth.
The Colonel was beside himself with satisfac-
tion : but he made a great effort to conceal it, and
replied in an off-hand way that they were warm-
hearted rogues, easy enough to get on with when
you took them the right way. They are rough
customers sometimes, when you don't hit it off
with them, though," he added, not wishing to
seem too enthusiastic, "and they can be as ob-
stinate as mules, pretending all the time that they
are giving in and letting you have it all your,
own way; now, for instance, about soap: you
would not believe the trouble I've had to get them
to use it; to use it in'suflicient quantities, I mean;
I distribute hundreds of pounds of it every year,
and the rascals take it, but I shrewdly suspect
they swap it at Ballyrock for tobacco half the
time ; I've never been able to catch them at it ;
but I have strong suspicions that a good deal of
it disappears in that way ; now if Fallon liked he
might help me a good deal; but somehow he
does not understand the moral weight of soap; he
rather thinks it's a craze of mine to attach such
iniportance to it; but you know, my dear fellow,
that nothing can be done with the lower orders
until they are brought to see the paramount ad-
vantage of soap ; I'll stake my head on it, that, if
one could compare the moral condition of coun-
tries, the relative superiority of each would be
found to coincide exactly with the amount of
soap consumed by the poorer classes of the com-
munity."
" There is, no doubt, a certain afljnity between
the cleanliness of the body and the purity of the
soul," observed Mr. Ringwood, struggling to re-
press a smile, as he remembered Lady Margaret's
confidential hint; "but I rather fancied that the
Irish formed the exception to the rule ; the Scotch
are wonderful consumers of soap, yet from what
you and others have told me, I inclihe to think
them inferior to the Irish in moral integrity."
" I should think so! Inferior! Why, my dear
sir, the Scotch are as far benealh our people in
that respect as the Hindoos," protested the Colonel,
vehemently. " The comparison is not to be toler-
ated for an instant; it's an insult to the virtue of
the Irish nation to mention them in the same
breath ! "
And so the soap theory exploded like a bubble;
but Mr. Ringwood was too generous to chuckle
over the defeated champion; defeated, too, by his
own weapons.
" You seem to have a great number of paupers
here ? " he remarked.
" We have not one in the whole length and
breadth of Connemara," was the startling denial.
Ave Mariu.
400
"We have beggars, if you will; but you must not
confound Irish beggars witli English paupers; they
are as different as the two races; as dilferent as a
potato from a parsnip; Paddy, with his wallet q^
his back, is as jolly a dog as lives; he wants for
nothing so long as he gets his potato and salt, and
no one refuses him that; he runs about as happy
as a king in his rags; you must have noticed the
way he wears them? — the free, devil-may-care
air he has altogether; strangers always remark
it."
" Oh, if you are arguing his position from a
picturesque point of view, I have nothing to say,"
assented Mr. llingwood ; " only in that case we
will waive the question of civilization, and soap
goes to the wall, does it not?"
" Civilization be hanged ! There you are again
with your Saxon prejudices," said the Colonel,
ignoring the hit at his favorite hobby; "you
English will never understand us ; Comfort is your
idol, and you are all on your knees, swinging
the incense pot to it; the Irish are miles ahead
of you there; they don't care that" — snapping his
fingers— " about comfort; they despise it for a
false god; they don't care for money; they are
not afraid of poverty. Give them a kind word
when they are in trouble, a roof to keep off the
rain, a priest to look after their souls and say Mass
for them, and they are as contented and happy as
birds."
"A very primitive code," said Mr. Ringwood;
"one which works admirably, I suspect, for the
next world, however fatal it may be to their inter-
ests in this."
" What interest have they in this, unless it be to
get out of it as soon as .they can?" said the
Colonel. "Their real interest is in the next world ;
they believe in Heaven, as Englishmen believe in
London ; and the grand business of their lives is to
get there."
"I have found that out already," said the En-
glishman. "Their faith is tlie grandest thing I
have ever seen."
"I don't know much about it," replied the
Colonel, " but it certainly answers all their needs."
"You speak, nevertheless, like one who both
understands it and sympathizes with its spirit,"
said Mr. Ringwood.
There was a siugular inconsistency in his host's
discourse; he fired up like true Celtic gunpowder
at the least word that reflected disrespectfully on
his Catholic countrymen; he praised their moral
superiority over every other people, and traced i\
inferentially at least, to the power of their faith ;
yet he did not share that faith, and profcsssefl not
to understand it even.
They had now walked a good way along the
cliffs, and Jt suddenly occurred to both that it
must be time to be going home. As they turned
towards the hou§e, the Colonel descried an indi-
vidual in tattered coat and perforated corduroys
standing behind a tree, as if watching for some
one. He hailed him, and the man came scudding
up, like a lamp-lighter.
"Well, what do you want, Magee?" said the
Colonel.
" Plase, yer honor, I had a word to say to his
iiiverence here," said Magee, looking dreadfullj^
sheepish, and twirling a knotted stick behind him
with one hand, while he scratched his head with
the other.
" What have you got to say to him, you rogue ?
Why didn't you say whatever you had to say this
morning, and not come bothering his Reverence
now V "
Magee hung his head, and mumbled some un-
intelligible reply.
"I will follow you, presently," said Mr. Ring-
wood; and the Colonel walked on and left him
alone with Magee.
" I've brought the stick, yer Riverence," said the
man, " and give it to me sound, for I desarve it"
And he held out the big stick he had been twirl-
ing behind his back.
"What is this for, my good fellow?" demanded
Mr. Ringwood, in some surprise.
" To bate me, yer Riverence ! "
" Beat you ! why so ? What have you done ? "
" Shure and I've been takin' a dhrop too much
agin, yer Riverence ; " and Magee shook his head,
and then scratched it.
" I am very sorry to hear that," said Mr. Ring-
wood ; " a fine strong fellow like you ought to
have more control over yourself than to let the
devil get the better of you in that way."
" That's the thruth, yer Riverence ; and it's my-
self is ashamed of it; and may I turn into a peri-
winkle if ever I do it agin ! " exclaimed the de-
linquent, heartily.
"That's right; only you must ask God to
strengthen you against temptation; there is no
chance for you if you trust to your own strength;
m there ? "
"Oh, begorra no, yer Riverence; I'm as wake
as wather whin I'm left to myself and the wlris-
key ! " said Magee; "but maybe it'll help to keep
mo straight if yer Riverence gives me a good
thrash in' this go." ^ ^
Was the man serious, or was he joking? Mr.
Ringwood could not imagine; but there was not
a smile on his face. ^
''Who told you to come to be thrashed?" he
said.
"Father Pat, yer Riverence.'*
Jf'lO
Ave Maria.
"And would he have thrashed you if he had
come to-day ? "
" Oh, bedad he would, yer RIverence 1 "
"Does he often do it?"
" No, yer Riverence."
"How many times has he thrashed you?"
"Oh, he's niver done it yet at all; but he's al-
ways sayin' he will ; and last time he was awfully
vexed wid me, and he said as sure as I'd a liead
on me showldhers he'd not let me off if I did it
agin; he towld me I might just bring the sticli
wid me to save time, he did."
"Well, now, as he has not come to-day, suppose
I were to let you off once more ? " asked Mr. Ring-
wood, dubiously; "do you think you would re-
member it ? "
" Oh, bedad and I would, yer Riverence! "
" And you promise me to keep out of the way of
temptation, — not to go to the public house, or near
it, eh ? "
" Oh, sorra one o' me '11 go within a mile of it,
yer Riverence!" protested Magee, quite, fer-
vently; and Mr. Ringwood, not yet knowing the
ways of Barrymore, and where its snares and pit-
falls lay, was satisfied with the pledge, and re-
turned the stick to its owner, who forthwith be-
gan to invoke every benediction it ever entered
into a human brain to conceive on the head of
his Reverence.
[to be continued.]
Louise Lateau.
a visit to bois d'haine.
[Continued.]
If we might only be sure that the letter from
Rome would come ! Friday was fast approaching,
and we saw that our chance of admittance would
not be until the following week. Feeling that
our desires were not based on mere curiosity, we
would leave no stone unturned, so the next day
the same hour found two of us at the door of the
episcopal residence, and the puzzled porter, al-
ways polite, again informed the Bishop of the pres-
ence of the ladies from America. Perhaps, too, the^
recollection of that mild, gentle face gave encour-
agement to this seemingly audacious step, which
did prove successful. This time Mgr. Dumont
was not intercepted, and he was, as the Redemp-
torist Father had said, lovely and affable.
His parish had been in Detroit itself, and he
enquired with great interest concerning his fomer
co-laborers and his former parishioners. When
Bois d'Haine was mentioned, a shade passed over
his countenance ; evidently to him it was a pain-
ful subject.
" Formerly," said he, " I did give the permissions
to visit Louise; " my predecessor did so; but now
that the applications are so very numerous, both
Mgr. Dcchamps and myself have concluded to
leave this difficult matter entirely in the hands of
the pastor of Bois d'Haine; he seems to under-
standto arrange it all. Nowneithermyself nor the
Archbishop of Mechlin interfere in his decisions.
I could," added he, after a moment's reffection,
"give you a recommendation. I do not promise
you that it will be of any avail, but I can give it to
you. Do not place too much reliance upon it, for
I have ceded all real authority to the pastor of
Bois d'Haine."
Calling one of his secretaries, he bade him
write to the pastor of Bois d'Haine and say that
if it were possible to allow these three ladies
to be present at the ecstasy of Louise on Septem-
ber the 18th he the Bishop would be much
pleased, as he really did desire their admittance.
On being asked why it was so very difficult to
witness the miracle, was it really the smallness of
space or did the family object, he exclaimed:
"Object! why they just hate it. Louise knows
nothing of the visiting, for she is insensible to all
her surroundings; but her mother! her sisters!
they just hate it! hate it! hate it! "
And across his face came an expression that
would have been amusement had not the whole
subject been to him, as well as to them, a source of
annoyance and anxiety. Had God vouchsafed to
send this miracle half a century earlier, before
steam had brought the nations so closely together,
the Prelates of Belgium might have indulged in
a holy pride to think that their country had been
so blessed ; but now, when the world of Thomases
is perpetually knocking at their door, they are
often tempted to feel how much more blessed to
believe when one has not seen.
We remained in Tpurnay several days after this,
because the 18th of September was too far dis-
tant to render it necessary for us to leave imme-
diately after posting the kind recommendation
given us by the Bishop. Finally the letter from
Rome arrived, and we were happy to be able to
present a proof that the Bishop's kindness had
not been misplaced.
Tournay is essentially a Catholic town. The
march of nineteenth century civilization has not
as yet deprived it of its primeval Christian sim-
plicity, and during our two weeks' stay there we
saw much that was of interest to the Catholic
traveller, much that would be of interest to the
Catholic reader.
Wcjeft Tournay Sept. 15th, at noonday, having
taken our tickets for Menage, the railway station
on which Bois d'Haine depends. The country
*lve Mariu.
471
was undulating, and consequenny the grades
were very numerous, and over these the rapid mo-
tion shook us and jolted us unmercifully. Fi-
nally we arrived at Mone, now chiefly important as
the centre of a mining district. Here we were to
have entered another train, which would take us
to Menage, hut whether we were one minute too
late, or whether we were a whole half hour " be-
hind time," we could not discover. A Babel of
Walloon and French was shouted from one angry
official to another, and we were made to compre-
hend that we must wait for a ti-ain which was not
due for three hours. Five hours later, when we
arrived at Menage, we knew the great discomfort
that this delay caused us; but then we only
thought of the tedium of a railway waiting-room
to be endured for three hours ! So tired were we
with the rough sunny ride from Tournay that
we did not have the energy to follow our usual
practice of rambling through the streets of a town
where the intervals between trains obliged us to
spend several hours. All that we did do was to
procure at a restaurant a lunch, which afterwards
served us very well.
Finally, after three long hours, the train did ar-
rive, and it carried us through village after village
where blazing foundries told of the vast amount
of coal which is annually taken out of the rich
mines of this region. It was nightfall when we
arrived at Menage, for it took us a whole after-
noon to make a little j ourney of three hours. How-
ever, we spied a number of hotels, and, taking with
us our satchels, we directed our steps towards the
nearest one, which had a neat and inviting exte-
rior. But, inside, all was dire confusion — broken
walls, freshly plastered rooms, newly painted
woodwork, in fine all the disorder and discomfort
of a house undergoing repairs. We left, and,
crossing the railway track, proceeded with confi-
dence towards two imposing-looking buildings
calling themselves hotels, sure that at either one we
could find accommodation ; but both were closed,
utterly tenantless. A young girl addressed us : af-
ter asking if we were going to Bois d'Haine, she
showed us two little inns in which a^ie thought
we would find lodgings ; so we recrossed the rail-
way track, and going first to one and then to the
other, we found that there was no room for us.
And now night had really come ; the stars were
distinctly visible; our satchels had grown so
heavy, we were so weary, and no place to rest ;
never before had we had an experience of this
nature, and a vague hope arose in our minds that
perhaps M. le Cur6 would grant the wished for
permission, as too many crosses were clustering
around Bois d'Haine for it not to be a successful
pilgrimage.
We were told that in a village two miles distant
there was an excellent inn ; but at that hour we
could find no one to carry our satchels, and we
had neither the courage nor the strength to make
any further attempt; so we returned to the place
where we first entered, and the active landlady
immediately began to clear away some of tjie rub-
bish. We took our supper in a dining-room filled
with freshly painted furniture, sickcnly odorous,
and which was constantly putting our clothes in
peril. The landlady swept and scrubbed two tiny
rooms and crowded a few of the bare necessities
into them, and then we thought that we might
take a peaceful night's rest. But Menage, although
a jnere village, is what is termed in railway lan-
guage a junction, and in any country it would be
considered a junction of the first class. If any of
the readers of this ever find themselves thus far
on a journey to Bois d'Haine, let them bear in
mind not to spend a night at Menage. When we
had half forgotten the day's weariness and discom-
fort, a flash of lurid light, a heavy rumbling, a
shrill whistle, and we were wide awake to aching
heads and throbbing te^nples. All night long,
every hour brought a repetition of the same thing,
and when we arose in the morning it was with
confused ideas of signal-lights and head-lights, red
lights, white lights, green lights.
After breakfast, two turned their steps in the
direction of Bois d'Haine, to seek the residence of
its pastor. Two only, for by this time we had
learned enough of the Cur6 of Bois d'Haine to fear
that if the manner of one offended him it might
not be well for the others. One less, one less
chance of his detecting anything that he might
choose to find disagreeable.
Taking the street that led southward, it soon
joined the highway. To the right, amid a thick
grove of trees, lay a little hamlet whose imposing
brick church raised its spire high above the tallest
trees — ^Bois d'Haine, as a woman coming along
the highway said, in reply to inquiries. " Bois
d'Haine, and if the ladies wish to speak to M. le
Cure they should take that path diverging from
the broad road, — that path leading through the
grove."
It was a charming walk; the path wound
through grassy fields and under the green trees
until it joined another highway. And just beside
this highway lay a little brick cottage with white-
washed walls and a red tiled roof— a tiny mini-
ature of the neat houses abounding in the rural
districts of Belgium. Only one story in height, it
could not contain more than four rooms and per-
haps a little garret. Everything bespoke cleanli-
ness; the wooden steps were well scrubbed, the
window-panes fairly sparkled, and the coarse
^7^
Ave Maria,
muslin curtains were the whitest of the white.
But together with the marvellous cleanliness, there
was an air of intense seclusion ; the bright green
house-door was wide open, perhaps for ventilation,
but it only exposed to view a little entry with care-
fully closed doors. A few geranium plants
stood in one window, but the curtains were every-
where so closely drawn as to prevent the gaze of
impertinent curiosity. A mysterious air of calm,
an atmosphere of holy tranquillity seemed to per-
vade the spot; the cottage seemed to have a soul;
was it Louise's home ?
The hamlet of Bois d'Haine was still quite
distant, and a railway lay between it and the
cottage, but so strong were their feelings that the
two ladies demanded of a child tending cows in
a neighboring meadow whose house it might be.
"It is the house of Louise Lateau, madame;
and yonder lies the village of Bois d'Haine," re-
plied the child.
[to be continued.]
Letter frc^m Rome,
Rome, June 23, 1876.
Dear Ave Maria:— §ms sicut Dominus Beus noster
qui in altis habitat ? See how He preserves our Pon-
tiflF! See bow He holds him up, high above the ruin
and desolation which surround him! Do we want a
more palpable proof that God is with His Church
than that afforded us by the old man in the Vatican ?
And when he himself tells us to observe the workings
of the spirit of God, in the great religious movements
which are going on in divers countries, in the works
of charity, in the holy pilgrimages, and in the univer-
sal desire of Catholics to draw closer to the Holy See
and to the person of the Sovereign Pontiff, in his
aaodesty he passes over the fact of his own existence
in the midst of so much trouble and sorrow. Why do
we look for signs and wonders as an earnest that God
is with His Church? If we close our eyes to the
promises of Holy Writ, let us not be blind to what is
going on about us? The philosophy, or rather the
sophistry, of the age holds our faith up to derision
and contempt. But the philosophers and sophists
themselves die in their youth, and our faith lives on ;
nay, the mortal who is the guardian of our faith lives
on, a living triumph of the faith. He was an old man,
very old, twenty years ago, and the schemers of Eu-
rope watched his glass intently, for the last grain, it
seemed to them, was just about to be eked out. Fools !
They themselves perished while watching for his de-
mise. Their philosophy could not prolong their lives,
nor could it shorten his.
THIRTY TEARS A PONTIFF.'
and graveyards have been filled during that time with
his enemies. We are wandering now in a wilderness
of trials, of perils, of pitfalls, not unlike the Hebrews
of Exodus ; yet, not unlike them, we are led on by
another Moses, who smites the arid rocks on the way,
and gives us to drink of the pure waters of consola-
tion ; and before him and before us there is another pil-
lar of fire, which shall guide us and those who come
after us, — " Behold I am with you."
It makes one feel quite jubilant to see how hearty
our Holy Father is. He evinces no feebleness. He
grasps that stout stick upon which he leans with a
good hearty grip, and, all in all, you would rather see
him with than without it. On the 16th — the anniver-
sary of his election — of course he received the con-
gratulations of the Cardinals, in whose name the ven-
erable Dean, Cardinal Patrizi, pronounced an address,
breathing devotion and attachment to the person of
the Pontiff. The reply was characteristic. He said
that considering how God protected the immaculate
Spouse of Christ in the midst of persecutions and con-
tradictions, they felt their spirit raised to God, and that
their hearts were moved to have greater confidence in
Him. They all felt the especial protection of God, be-
cause all were engaged in the cause of the Church.
"We are all in a species of slavery," he said. "But
this should not hinder us from consecrating ourselves
more and more to the service of the Church." He re-
marked that owing to the revolution of society the
affairs of the Sacred Congregations were multiplied,
and the consultations and interrogations increased.
The Cardinals have undertaken all these new labors
with laudable zeal, and the Church feels the benefits of
their labors. He compared the slavery in which the
Church is at present to that of Tobias when he was car-
ried into captivity by Salmanasar. But he soon found
favor with the king, and instead of giving himself up
to slothful sadness he exerted his influence in behalf of
his countrymen, employed himself in works of charity,
and above all he gave his fellow-captives " salutary
counsels." Thus too the Cardinals comport them-
selves—they give salutary counsels to all Christians.
Tobias too, though observant of the law, suffered.
But the angel explained to Tobias why he suffered—
"because thou WERT ACCEPTABLE TO GOD, IT WAS
NECESSARY THAT TEMPTATION SHOULD TRY THEE."
This declaration was afterwards confirmed by
Christ in the Gospel. "It is necessary that Christ
should suffer, and thus enter into His glory." He
quoted these words for the behoof of those who are
full of good will, but who waver under continued
persecution. "But there are others who would re-
concile Chiiet with Belial. These have need of your
lights^ that they may remember that the night and
the day cannot move on together like two parallel
lines: the night is night, the day is day. Give salutary
counsels to these. But Tobias was restored to his liberty
and to his country; not only to these, but also to the
possession of his wealth. So shall the Church triumph,
and the Revolution shall perish. " Continue then in
the noble career; apply mind and hand to the wants
of the Church; and although we fight in the thick
darkness of the uncertainty of human events, amid
the threats of the sectaries, who within the last few
days have had the effrontery to declare that the Ma-
sonic lodges are destined to supplant invincible Cathol-
Ave Maria,
Jf7S
icisin; notwithstanding- this, we must have faith, and
be sure that, even in the midst of the terrible tempest
it is always Christ who triumphantly steers the ship :
Si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis^ non timebo mala,
qiumiam tu mecum es — Though I walk in the midst of
the shadow of death, I shall not fear evil, for Thou
art with me." Dear Ave, you really must let me send
you the whole of the little discourse His Holiness de-
livered on Sunday morning, in reply to the congratula-
tions of the Roman nobility. It is full of deep signifi-
cance: " While you, beloved children, rejoice on the
anniversary which marks an epoch in this long Pontifi-
cate, and you rejoice with those sentiments which be-
come a noble and a Christian soul, perhaps our adversa-
ries also rejoice, because they have already passed the
first five years of the unjust usurpation of the city of
Rome, the capital of Catholicity. But, virhile your re-
joicings rest upon a solid foundation, to wit, upon
the foundation of justice, the joy of our enemies rests
upon a slippery support, such as unjust aggression.
And here permit me, for the common instruction, to
recall a few facts, from vsrhich it may clearly be seen
what are the judgments of God upon those who are
not favorable to the Holy See, and much more, upon
those who are against it. No one certainly has forgot-
ten that this land, belonging to the Church, has for
several years been guarded, protected, and guaranteed
by two Catholic Powers. I don't know whether poli-
tics or other motives induced the two Powers, the one
after the other, to
ABANDON us INTO THE HANDS OF THE FIERCEST EN-
EMIES.
The fact is that they abandoned^us. But, having for-
saken the Holy See, these two Powers had to bear
the weight of the hand of God upon themselves.
First they went to war in turn, and afterwards suffered
those terrible losses and humiliations which everyone
knows, and which we have all deplored. What more ?
That very Prince, whom they call Sultan, who had
also taken the attitude of a persecutor of the Church
in the East, by protecting a handful of schismatics to
make his hand heavy against the Church— what hap-
pened to him? Ah! you have read it lately. That
poor unfortunate sovereign lost at once his life and
his throne, from which he was driven with the
same facility with which a master expels from his
house a miserable servant. Certainly, were I to cite
here examples of the justice of God against the op-
pressors and usurpers of the Church, oh! 1 could not
finish the enumeration so quicky for you. A. few
weeks ago, Italy celebrated the
CBNTENAKY OF TUB LOMBARD LEAGUE.
And what was that festival? It was the memory of
the end of a sacrilegious Emperor, and of the triumph
of the Holy Roman See; on the one side a usurper,
powerful and unjust, on the other a PoutiflT, such as
was
ALEXANDER III,
firm and constant in always upholding the rights of
the Church. I shall not speak of the fearful punish-
ments with which God has visited, now this sectary,
now that one, who died in terror and trembling, aban-
doned ,to the powers of infernal darkness. I shall
limit myself to one only of the facts which happened
here in Rome itself. Is it not true that one of the
heads of the Italian Revolution, arriving at death's
door, asked for a priest who would console the last
moments of his life? He was found, but it was use-
less, because the emissaries of Satan formed, as they
say, a barricade around his bed, and||he minister of
God could not enter. And they said to him, ' When
there will be need of you, you will be called.' And
meanwhile? Meanwhile the sick man died, and would
to God that he too could have said with true sorrow
of heart, Nunc reminiscor malorum qiuefeci in Jerusalem
— ' Now I remember the evil I have done in Jerusalem.'
These and other examples form a motive of reflection
for all: for the good to thank God, for the bad to fear
Him.
LET US TRUST, LET THEM FEAR,
for it has been proved, and will al ways be true, that
the Lord protects and liberates the oppressed."
A solemn Te Deum of thanksgiving was chanted in
St. Peter's on Sunday evening by thousands of people.
The troops turned out in ajsprehension of a disturb-
ance, but nothing was given them to do save to stare
at the multitudes, and perhaps think that after all
there must be something good about the old Pontiff,
else so many thousands would not pray God so fer-
vently for his preservation.
The grand audience of the anniversary festivals was
undoubtedly that of
THE GERMAN PILGRIMS,
who were received on the Feast of St. Aloysius, the
•anniversary of the Pope's coronation. In the morning
early, the pious band assisted at Mass in St. Peter's,
and received Holy Communion from the hands of
Cardinal Ledochowski. Then they repaired to the
Consistorial Hall in the Vatican Palace. His Holiness
appeared at noon, accompanied by sixteen Cardinals.
When he had seated himself upon the throne, the
Baron von Loe, director of the pilgrimage, read an ad-
dress. In his reply, the Pope Spoke in strong terms of
the persecutors of the Church, and introduced the his-
tory of Antiochus. There he depicted a contrast hi
vivid colors, much to the advantage even of the sacri-
legious king, and greatly to the condemnation of
modern persecutors. After all, Antiochus only violated
a synagogue, a mere figure of the sacred reality which
is outraged by the persecutors of to-day. Let them
look to it, for
THE LORD SLBEPBTH NOT.
After the address, lie expressed a wish to hear the
Germans sing the Te Deum in German. They com-
plied with a hearty good will, and the hull shook as
those stentor-throated Teutons intoned with prover-
bial energy and strength the time-honiiJwcl~aBtijem of
Catholic Germany,
"GROSSER GOTT, WIR LO^E.N/
and then they cheered for His
three hearty Hochttf After whiC«T,'j^sYyecause
were in the humor for it (said oue \la lelIo\v>
they sang that beautiful old Latin Ivj^mii^OTTIle^TW^
Virgin, " O Sanctissima/^* The Pot>o»i£i»-^most
i^4
Ave Maria.
moved to tears, and he stood up and blessed them
a^ain. They brought with them a larj^e supply of
vestments and altar furniture, to be distributed among
the poor churches of Italy.
The theologian and founder of the Society of the
Holy Ghost and the Sacred Heart of Mary,
FATHER PAUL MARIA LIBERMANN,
has been declared Venerable by a recent decree of the
Congregation of Rites.
A decree confirming the devotion to, and prepara-
tory to the beatification and canonization of, the Vener-
able servant of God,
ELIZABETH CANORI MORA,
a tertiary of the Barefooted Order of the Most Holy
Trinity for the Redemption of Captives, was published
on the 1st of this month. On the 12th inst., in the pres-
ence of His Holiness,
SEVERAL BOOKS WERE CONDEMNED
by the Congregation of the Index, among others
"Otto mesi a Roma durante il Concilio Vaticano, im-
pressioni di un contemporaneo, per Pomponio Leto."
"Eight months in Rome during the Vatican Council;
impressions of a contemporary, by Pomponio Leto.
Florence, 1873." This book is now being translated in
London, and will soon appear in English. The Eng-
lish publishers gave out that it was written by the
late Cardinal Vitelleschi. This is utterly false.
There will be a sale on the 4th of July of property
seized by the Government, belonging to the German,
Irish, English, and Scotch Colleges. Where is justice?
Where is international law ? Arthur.
The Guardian Angels of the Sanctuary.
A few months ago we announced the advent
of a new Association of prayer and good works,
one whose duties are very simple, but which we
hope will in time effect great good. Like many
others, the beginning of this Association was ex-
tremely humble, but this humble beginning has
already been blessed and encouraged by the Vicar
of Christ, a fact which augurs well for its future
usefulness.
We have before said that the Association of the
Guardian Angels of the Sanctuary has been
canonically established; we stated its double
or rather treble object, the means of attaining
it, and the privileges already accorded to its
members by the Holy See, but it was only of late
that our attention was called to the petition which
brought it into existence. This petition, read
at the Vatican on the Feast of the Chair of St.
Peter, and which it is said visibly affected the Holy
Father himself, has been published in several pf
the Italian and French Catholic papers. We
therefore give it in English, hoping that it may
be of interest to our readers. It is as follows :
Most Holt Father:- It is written "that God often
chooses the weak to confound the strong." — Et ea quce
non sunt ut ea qmn sunt dcstruerunt (1 Cor., i, 38). Such
is the abridged history of the Church, which the Pon-
tifical examples and teachings admirably confirm, es-
pecially for the past thirty years. Each day we pray
with our venerated Father, and each day increases the
confidence his heroic firmness inspires in us.
Never before had the coalition of the powers of the
earth against the Lord and against His Church ap-
peared more formidable, and therefore more certain of
final success. To us it is a sign that the hour is ap-
proaching, that God is going to rise and scatter His
enemies with a breath, as the wind Siv^eeps the dust
from the face of the earth. Yes, Holy Father, we be-
lieve with you that God intends reserving to Him-
self the glory of the triumph He prepares to His
Church and to its Infallible Head, so long and cruelly
tried. It is in this conviction, most Holy Father, that
I consider myself happy, coming to-day from the far
West of America, and laying at your feet, not the
promises of the powerful ones of this world, but the
wishes of the feeblest on earth — of those little ones
whom the world takes not into account; a coalition
of young children, who wish with all the fervor of
their young souls to form among themselves an Asso-
ciation in order to ask, together, of " their Heavenly
Father, whose Face their angels see continually in
Heaven, "the triumph of the Church and of its au-
gust Head, and in particular the conversion of the
New World, their own country. To deliver and
set at liberty the Prince of Pastors, and bring to
him a new flock of sheep and of lambs, that he
may feed them with the " word of life," such is in
a few words, most Holy Father, the object of enrol-
ment of this young militia, who well know the un-
changeable Divine preferences. They have read the
solemn declaration of the Saviour: '■'■ Sinite parvulos
venire ad J/e," and behold, these young beloved ones
of Jesus stand up and say that for them too the hour
has arrived to rise as one man; and resting on their
innocence and the fervor of their desires, they request
to be organized and presented " as an army in battle
array" to Him who first loved them and protected
them, who first revealed to the world the dignity of
the child, and his precious prerogatives. They feel
confident that He who forbade His disciples to pre-
vent them from coming to Him will not reject them;
but that He calls them to bless them and grant to
their united supplications special favors reserved to
themselves.
Thus urged hy those beloved children, most Holy
Father, I have taken to myself the words of the Saviour :
^'' Et ne prohibueritis eos"\ and, in the fear of the Di-
vine displeasure, I have hastened to bring you these
ardent desires of innocence and filial piety. Moreover
I well know that this New World, whose conversion
was the dream of my life, is singularly dear to your
paternal heart; and that the return to the Church of
this land, once discovered by a Christian hero, who
took possession of it in the name of the Cross of Christ,
and a part of which is already consecrated to the Im-
maculate Conception, must be the object of your pas-
toral solicitude every day.
Ave Maria,
475
Behold, in a few Avorda, most Holy Father, the oriffin
and the history of the above Association. On the 15th
of last August we took possession, in America, of the
new Sanctuary of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart. Be-
fore the tabernacle stood shininf? for the first time a
lamp of wonderful beauty; it had been brouijht from
Lyons, and was a perfect simile of the famous one at
Lourdes. The little boys of the College marvelled at
the splendors of this new masterpiece, and solicited for
themselves the privilege of feeding it with their own
hands and at their own expense. The grant of their
request appeared to them a favor so much the more
precious as they had heard that the Holy Father him-
self tends with his own hands the lamp of his chapel
in the Vatican. Immediately there was organized
among them, under the name of the "Angel Guardians
of the Sanctuary," the association I have just ex-
plained.
Since then, I mentioned it in the South and in the
North, in New York, and recently in Paris; and every-
where it was received with the same enthusiasm.
These young angels of the earth are jubilant with
happiness in the thought of coming every day and en-
circling in spirit the Vicar of Jesus Christ; and there,
prostrated by his side before the hidden God whom the
mystic lamp reveals to their faith— there under the
eye of the Divine Prisoner of love, they will pray that
the Lamp of the Sanctuary may soon prove to the
blind of the world, and particularly to their erring
brothers still seated in the shadows of death, a light of
salvation: " Lumen ad revelationem gentium.''^
The lamp in question is no longer alone; six others,
I learn, already keep it company in the Sanctuary,
and very soon the Nine Angelic Choirs will be repre-
sented there by as iliany new lamps, without speaking,
of a number of others, which these young, fervent
souls will multiply, as bright light-houses on the
shores of " that dark sea," as they called it in the days
of Columbus. Henceforth, most Holy Father, one of
the first privileges of the child decorated with the
cross of superior merit will be to come and pour with
its guiltless hand into the lamp the pure oil of Italy
that keeps alive its sacred flame. To him and his asso-
ciates this lamp is a revelation, a new Epiphany. Its
soft light enlighteneth their young intelligences, as it
warms their ardent hearts to generous impulses
against the seductions of all sorts which Satan scatters
broadcast on the path of youth in the New World.
Never in the history of the Church had solemn doc-
uments and warnings to the Christian world issued
forth from the Holy See more numerously and more
urgently, upon the necessity of imparting a sound,
thorough Catholic education to Catholic youth ; never
before had we better understood and realized how
important — nay more, Kow absolutely necessary— it is
for the future of the Christian child and of society,
that faith take first possession of his mind, and guard
him against unbelief; that truth strengthen him
against the Seducer who was a liar from the begin-
ning. Deeply convinced of the wisdom of these
apostolic teachings, we wish to permeate these young
souls, from the first, with a clear atmosphere of faith;
and, as a means thereto, to create in them lively feel-
ings of pitiful contempt and aversion for whatever
might offer a temptation and a danger to their inex-
perience and unsuspecting candor.
To fortify our tender youth against the seduction of
the senses, we desire to fill them, from the start, with
contempt for those false and lying goods, and move
them with a heartfelt compassion for those poor, blind
men who daily sacrifice eternal hapj .ess for the
fieeting joys of a day. We wish thus to plant in these
pure hearts the germ of a Christian and apostolic
zeal. Practice will soon make a habit of it for life.
This habit of praying daily to save from eternal ruin
a parent, a sister, a neighbor, or a friend, will prove a
powerful protection to our dear mediating children,
as well as a prolific source of blessings to the objects
of their solicitude.
Thus we hope to ingraft upon the "heart of the
coming generation the spirit of active faith which
our own did not receive; of that praying faith of
which England now proclaims so loudly the marvel-
lous eflftcacy; and which will not fail our dear Amer-
ica, coming from the stainless hearts and lips of
youth, at this present hour of her greatest need.
Only a few weeks since, your Holiness exhorted us,
in most admirable language, not to agitate or disturb,
but to be up and acting, to be doing something for
the Faith. This solemn invitation made no exception
either of age or sex. The field of action was open to
all. Such an impressive counsel seems to have been
inspired especially for our little terrestrial angels.
The child, indeed, is essentially a moving, an active
being; the exuberance of his life must be spent
either for good or evil; he, from nature, cannot rest.
From natural impulses, he would almost be an agi-
tator. But how wonderfully he conquers himself,
when, under the soft rays of the mystic lamp, he
kneels to pray with his angelic companions before
the tabernacle of the Living God! Nor is he idle
there, on his tender knees. He is not yet a man of
action, but how admirably he seems to have caught
up the directive words of the Vicar of Christ I He is
acting indeed, in the best sense of the word — that
noble child, with his young associates, before the
tabernacle; for he is acting upon the Heart of God,
which he moves to pity; and who knows, if, at the
indefatigable prayer of that guileless and confiding
child, God, who holds in His Hand the hearts of men,
will not forgive and convert His enemies, and give
peace to His Church and His faithful Vicar upon
earth?
When Satan sets himself to work the ruin of a child,
he leads him. off from his pious friends, to some cor-
ner, to an isolated and obscure spot; but, as ever, the
true Guardian Angel of the child brings him back to
the light; often to the mystic light of a Sanctuary
Lamp, and there pauses with him and his angelic
companions, and prays with them, before his God and
their God.
At such a sight one might imagine he hears a voice
from the Tabernacle saying: ^^Delicice MecB esse cum
filiis hominum." There is, indeed, no spectacle more
worthy of Heaven. Here is the place where our
Angel Guardians will love to meet every day to pray
4^6
Ave Maria.
for the immortal Head of the Church and the conver-
sion of their country. Such is, most Holy Father, the
object of the Angel Guardians' Association, whose
only desire is your august sanction. You have only
one word to say, " Sinitt^'' and they become a legion,
a power, the more efficient with God as they appear
weaker to human sense.
In the nam©, of these angels of the earth, I most
humbly pray that your Holiness deign to sanction
and bless their Association, and to enrich it with the
following precious indulgences: 1st, 300 days' Indul-
gence on the day of admission; 2d, A Plenary Indul-
gence four times a year, provided they confess, receive
Holy Communion, etc.
Most Holy Father, you see prostrate at your feet
one no longer young, who owes all to the Apostolic
blessings he has so frequently received here during
the last twenty-flve years, and who now solicits at
your hand a new favor, more precious in his estima-
tion than any one of the past. At a time when not a
single nation protects your Holiness with its sword,
when all means of defense have disappeared, 'he am-
bitions not the glory but the merit to be allowed on
this glorious Feast of the Chair of St. Peter to raise
and set around this venerable Chair a new army,
whose movements will disturb the peace of no empire
of this worldi, but whose every soldier will faithfully
stand to the last at the post of honor and duty, and
who will lovingly sacrifice all to shield the Vicar of
Christ against the treacherous perfidies of this world.
It will be a happy day, most Holy Father, when our
Angel Guardians and their happy parents of both
hemispheres will read with their own eyes that your
Paternity invites all children of either sex to enroll
themselves in this spiritual militia, where you will
not again oblige them, through tenderness of heart,
as on the 20th of September, to lay down their arms
for ,fear of shedding uselessly noble and precious
blood. But by your holy example and encourage-
ment you will soon multiply their number, until they
shall have encircled the globe with their invincible
legions, uniting heaven and earth for the glorious
defence of the Vicar of Christ.
Fiat! Fiat!
E. SORIN, C. S. C.
Rome, Feast of the Chair of St. Peter, 1876*.
Besides two decrees granting all that is asked above,
the Holy Father wrote with His own hand, at the
bottom of a tableau representing the Association, the
following words: '' Benedicti qui ambulant in vias Bo-
mini. Pius, PP. IX."
Faith in the heart of the siiiucr is like the lamp
which of old used to burn in the sepulchres.— Jfme.
Sioetchine.
The Blessed Virgin at her birth shone upon the
world like a brilliant star. Eve had closed upon
us the gates of Paradise; Mary opened them wide.
We were in perfect darkness; Mary brought back
to us the joy of the ancient light.— Ambrosian Lit-
urgy.
Catholic Notes.
Rev. Ferdinand Koertt was ordained priest, in
the Cathedral of Fort Wayne, by Right Rev. Bishop
Dwenger, on the 8th inst.
The Catholic Visitor, of Lockport, N. Y., which is
just beginning the second year of its existence, has been
enlarged and otherwise improved. We are glad to
notice this evidence of popularity and prosperousness,
which is well deserved.
We rejoice to hear that Rev. Father George
Steiner, the much beloved pastor of Huntington, Ind.,
has recovered somewhat from his late severe illness.
It is thought that rest and a change of air will restore
him to perfect health.
The death is announced of Rev. Fr. Matthew
Hart, the much respected pastor of St.Patrick's Church,
New Haven, Conn., Rev. James Boyle, of St. Theresa's
Church, New York, and Rev. John Contin, attached to
St. Francis' Cathedral, Vincennes, Ind. B. I. P.
— The entire body of St. Donatus, martyred in Rome
during the third century, and discovered in 1792 in
the Catacombs, has been transferred to the parish
church of St. Martin, at Laigle, France. The reception
of this sacred relic was made the occasion of a festival
of great solemnity. A triduum was held, presided
by Very Rev. F. Lebreton, Vicar General to the Bishop
of Seez.
The Sisters of Jesus and Mary at Lauzon, C. E.,
are preparing to erect a convent chapel which will be
dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. They are in
great need of assistance to enable them to execute
their pious design and promise mgny spiritual favors
to those who help them. The smallest contributions
will be thankfully received. Address Convent of
Jesus and Mary, St. Joseph of Levis, Lauzon, C. E.
A Consistory was held in Rome on Monday,
June 26, at which Mgr. Roncetti, lately appointed In-
ternuncio in Brazil, was raised by the Pope to the
dignity of Archbishop inpartibus infidelium ; and Mgr.
Bruschetti, at^present Papal Charge d'Afl[aires at Rio,
to the diginity of Bishop in partibus ivfidelium. Sev-
eral Bishops were appointed for dioceses in France
and Ital3\ Mgr. Bourget, formerly Bishop of Montreal,
Canada, was created Archbishop of Marzianopolis in
partibus infldelium.
We had the pleasure, last week, of a visit from
Dr. Machebffiuf, Bishop of Epiphany in partibus infide-
lium and Vicar Apostolic of Colorado, and from Rt.
Rev. Augustine Toebbe, Bishop of Covington, Ky.
Bishop Macheboeuf preached a most interesting ser-
mon at Higli Mass on Sunday, recounting some re-
markable incidents of his missionary life, a period of
more than thirty years. Both Prelates seemed to en-
joy their visit, which, we hope, they will frequently
repeat.
The consecration of the Church'of Our Lady of
Lourdes, at the Grotto of Lourdes, took place on the
3rd inst. The Pope delegated Cardinal Guibert, Arch-
bishop of Paris, to consecrate the splendid basilica;
the statue of Our Lady of Lourdes was crowned by
Ave Maria.
477
the Papal Nuncio in France, Monsijrnor Me^flia,
iu the name of the Pope. Thirty Bishops were pres-
ent. Monsiffnor Cataldi, the Pope's master of cere-
monies, had the direction of the solemnities. The
Bishop of Poiters and the exiled Bishop of Geneva,
Rt. Rev. Dr. Mermillod, preached on the occasion.
The New York Tablet says that the somewhat
leni^thy indisposition of the head of the Church in the
United States has evidently been a subject of sorrow
and anxiety to all his children, cleric and lay, throu,;^h.
out the Union. Although his Eminence is still suffer-
ing from its effects, we are rejoiced to be able to in-
form them that the symptoms of the malady from
■which he was suffering have disappeared, and that he
is now suffering only from weakness. We have every
reason to hope that we shall soon have to congratu-
late his Eminence and ourselves on his complete res-
toration to his usual health and vigor.
A new marble slab has been placed over the re-
mains of Commodore Barry, which repose in the Cem-
etery of St. Mary's Church, Fourth St., Philadelphia.
The following epitaph is inscribed on the slab: Sacred
to the memory of Commodore Barry, Father of the
American Navy. Let the Christian patriot and soldier
who visits these mansions of the dead view this monu-
ment with respect and veneration. Beneath it rest
the remains of John Barry, who was born in the
County Wexford, Ireland, in the year 1745. America
was the object of his patriotism and the aim of his
usefulness and ambition. At the beginning of the
Revolutionary war he held the commission of Captain
in the then limited navy of the Colonies. His achieve-
ments in battle and his renowned naval tactics mer-
ited for him the position of Commodore, and to be-
justly regarded as the Father of the American Navy.
He fought often and bled in the cause of freedom ;
but the deeds of valor did not diminish in him the
virtues which adorned his private life. He was emin-
ently gentle, kind, just, and charitable, and no less be-
loved by his family and friends than by his grateful
country. Firm in the faithful practice of the Catholic
Church, he departed this life on the 13th day of Sep-
tember, 1803, in the 59th year of his age. In grateful
remembrance, a few of his countrymen, members of St.
Mary's Church, and others, have contributed towards
the erection of this second monument, erected July 1,
1876. Reguiescat in pace.
It would seem that the Citizen^ a Minneapolis
paper, imagined some time ago that it found the
Ave Maria in error on the subject of prayer for the
dead, judging from an editorial in a recent number of
the Northwestern Chronicle. We have not seen the
number of the Citizen which endeavored to set us
right; it would no doubt have gone far to convince
us of the charitable intentions of the editor of the
Citizen had he sent us a copy of his paper containing
the article referred to ; but as he did not, and as our able
contemporary at St. Paul has more than exonerated us
we had concluded that it would be as well to let the
matter pass. There are, however, some remarks in
the article of the Chronicle that have an extrinsic
interest for our well-meaning non-Catholic brethren.
and which we reproduce for their benefit. " Why,"
it asks, "particularly assail the announcement of a
Catholic journal devoted to a pious object, that it
will pray for its benefactors,— that it will remember
them in life and in death ? Let the Citizen discuss the
"Communion of Saints" and the 12th chapter of the
Second Book of Machabees with its Reverend Episco-
palian endorsers: '43. And making a gathering, he
sent twelve thousands drachms of silver to Jerusalem
for sacrifice to be offered for the sins of the dead ....
'46, It is therefore a holy and a wholesome thought
to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from
sins.' The EpiscSpal 'Book of Common Prayer' rec
ommends these Scriptural passages, — 'for example
of life and instruction of manners.' And a recom-
mendation is as far as the Episcopal Church goes
now-a-days." The Northwestern Chronicle, on its part,
shows a trait of disinterestedness, of generosity even,
that is rarely to be met with in these selfish times.
It says, in conclusion: "Within the week a well-
wisher, puzzled with these .exceeding hard times,
suggested that as her subscription for the Ave 3faria
soon expired she would exchange for the Northwestern
Chronicle — giving the preference to 'the home paper.'
We earnestly requested our friend to do nothing of
the kind; subscribe for the Chronicle, but not at the
expense of the Ave Maria, a journal devoted in a
special manner to the interests of our Blessed Mother."
New Publications.
The current number of the Catholic Record con-
tains several papers of great interest, notably the
sketch of "America's famous Missionary," Father
Weninger, by Prof. O'Kane Murray, "Diamond or
Glass," from the German of Dr. Stolz, and "Hau-
terive," by Lady Herbert. We give the table of con-
tents: I, Old Lies and New; II, ''Sic Facientem"; III,
Strayed from the Fold (Continued); IV, Francis Xavier
Weninger, D. D., S. J. : V, Diamond or Glass — An Ar-
gument on the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucha-
rist, addressed to sincere Protestants; VI, Reunited;
VII, Hauterive; or How the French Soldiers Died;
VIII, The Capital of the Turks; IX, Something about
Pearls; X,. Editorial Notes; XI, New Publications.
The third number of The American Catholic Quar-
terly has been received. To us it has proved — and we
think we may safely add to the Catholic public it will
prove — a very welcome visitor. Judging from the few
numbers of the Quarterly which have already appeared,
we must conclude that the editors are resolved that all
contributions shall.'reach a very high standard of ex-
cellence.
Rev. Henry Formby, a new contributor, opens the
present number with a paper on the " Occupation of
Rome, and its Significance for the Catholics." His
argument is that the sanction given to the prevalence
of might over right in the spoliation of the Pontifical
territory,— the manifestation of open hostility to the
Catholic Church, and the haughty contempt every-
where evinced by secular Governments for the strong-
est and most universally prevalent Catholic feelings.
478
Ave Maria.
constitute an overwhelmint*- proof of the civil and
moral decadence of modern Europe. He takes oc-
casion to demonstrate that modern Rome, in the econ-
omy of Divine government, was destined to be the
centre of Christianity, and inveighs against the apathy
with which in general Catholic populations have ac-
quiesced in the sacrilege committed by a mere faction
of Italian revolutionists.
Very Rev. Edward Jacker contributes a most inter-
esting and instructive article on the Catholic Indians
in the Northwest, He relates some of the prodigies
of zeal and devotedness performed by the early Jesuit
missionaries, shows the causes to w^ich the failure
and decay of those once flourishing missions are
largely due, and concludes with an appeal to Catholic
missionaries and Religious Orders to hasten to the re-
lief of a surely but slowly dying race.
Rev. Father Hill enters the lists to break a lance in
defence of his favorite theory of the origin of ideas-
Gen. Gibbon continues his breezy papers on " Rambles
among the Rocky Mountains," which, we think, are
likely in the present warm weather to meet with as
much favor from the general reader as the more pro-
found articles of the number.
Rt. Rev. Bishop Lynch furnishes another able pa-
per on the "Divinity of Christ." One marked charac-
teristic of Christianity is the abiding influence of Christ
on humanity. The central part of the grand and ever
enduring fact is Himself— Christ, as revealed by the
Apostles and Evangelists. The Jews held a firm be-
lief in the Divinity of the Messiah centuries before
He appeared on earth ; this belief passed to other lauds,
as is clear from passages in the writings of pagan phil-
osophers, and particularly of Plato. Finally, it may be'
accepted as a historical fact that the Evangelists, who
have giren us accounts of the life of our Lord, all held
the doctrine of His Divinity. There are four other
writers in the New Testament collection ; their epistles
are in general not dogmatic but hortatory in charac-
ter, and treat on moral and religious duties. And yet
in every one of these we find statements and allusions
bearing on the Divine character and Divine power of
Christ.
"The Church and the Intellectual World" bears the
impress of the comprehensive grasp of mind, the phil-
osophical acumen and ripe scholarship which charac-
terize all the productions of the Rev. Father Thebaud.
He shows that all the real intellectual conquests of the
modern world are chiefly due to the Church. For
centuries there was not a step forward in the cause of
knowledge which was not taken under her inspiration.
The period of her ascendancy in the world corresponds
with the supremacy of mind over matter. The lan-
guage and literature of every nation in Eupore— those
noble seats of learning of which the world is so proud
—are due to her fostering care. And yet, in spite of
her priceless services in the interests of knowledge,
modern intellectualism is everywhere in arms against
her. But history will once more respect itself, and
and the victory must remain with her. The paper
concludes by an enumeration of some of the agencies
to which she may ov/e her triumph.
" Homeric Lays," by F. A. Paley, LL. D., is an arti-
cle which cannot fail to be perused with interest by
every classical scholar.
The Review concludes with a touching tribute to the
memory of the late Orestes A. Brownson, LL. D.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report fob the Week Ending July 8th.
Letters received, 92; New members admitted, 88,
Applications for prayers have been made as follows:
Health for 58 persons and 2 families; Change of life
for 6 persons; Conversion to the faith, 9 persons, 4
families ; Return to religious duties for 6 persons ; The
grace of perseverance for 3 persons; A happy death
for 4 persons, 2 of whom are in danger of death ; Graces
for 4 priests, 5 religious ; Temporal favors for 20 per-
sons, 8 families, 6 communities and 1 orphan asylum;
Spiritual favors for 25 persons, 5 families, 4 commu-
nities, 2 congregations, 3 schools and 1 orphan asylum.
The following intentions have been specified: That
several children may be obedient to their parents and
become good Christians; Peace and contentment in
3 families ; Resources to pay debts for several families
and individuals; Health and a spiritual favor for a
convert.
FAVORS OBTAINED.
" One evening, while I was walking with my chil-
dren, I met an old lady making her way very painfully
along by the aid of a stafl". She was so crippled with
rheumatism as to be scarcely able to move. I stopped,
and commenced telling her about the water of
Lourdes. In the course of the conversation my voice,
I suppose, raised itself, and a Protestant woman, sit-
ting at work inside of her house, heard every word I
said. I did not notice her at first. She came to me
and asked for the water of Lourdes, expressing faith
in the power of the Blessed Virgin. I gavd it 'to her,
and at the same time wrote to you, asking prayers.
Yesterday, after using the water for a week,'^ she came
again in a distressed state of mind to ask to be allowed
to wear one of the medals of the Association and to
beg permission to sit and listen to the religious in-
struction I give my pupils." . . . . " Last summer I wrote
to you, Rev. Father, for some Lourdes water for Mrs.
M. Well, through the intercession of our Blessed
Mother her baby is now nearly a year old, whilst her
other children lived only two or three months. She
returns thanks to God and His Blessed Mother for
their goodness to her." . ..." I wull relate two marvel-
lous .cures brought about by means of the'water of
Lourdes. One was a case of paralysis of the tongue,
depriving the miserable sufferer of his speech. Upon
using the water only once, he instantly recovered, and
is now well and enjoying good health. Another pa-
tient, sufl'ering from chronic rheumatism, entirely
helpless, and beyond all possible means of cure by the
physicians, instantly recovered by the application of
only a few drops of the precious water."
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: Mrs. John
O'DoNNELL, of St. Joseph, Mo., w^ho departed this life
on the 29th of June. Mr. Thomas McDonnell, of
Girardville, Pa,, whose death occurred the 30th of
June,
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Director.
Ave Maria.
479
i£hil5ren $ Department
The Tale of a Scapular.
BY MARY E. 8.
The lights in Ward 31 of the huge B Hos-
pital were lowered; the busy little nurse, in her
trim cap and great white housewifely apron, had
gone to her temporary home. The night nurse
was reading by the long table in the centre of the
ward. There were no cases that requirecKspecial
watching in the ward just then. The worst was
that of a poor old consumptive woman whose long
and distressing fits of coughing told of a life pain-
fully near its end; but she was only a destitute
old creature, longing herself for death to release
her, and, as she never complained, neither day nor
night nurse thought it neglect to wait upon her
only when imperative duty demanded.
The door suddenly opened, and a stretcher was
borne in. Upon it "lay a woman who was emaci-
ated enough to seem already in the clasp of death ;
but the wild, fevered rolling of her eyes and the
nervous streugth with which she now and then
lifted her head told of days yet to be passed ere
her spirit could be free. By the side of the
stretcher, with one hand clutching the coarse
coverlet, a little girl walked. Her stature was
diminutive even for the six years she seemed ; and
her pale, prematurely worn face told more acutely
even than the emaciation of the woman, of poverty
and suffering. She seemed too frightened to cry,
though suppressed sobs were rending her little
frame.
The nurse came forward, and assigned the bed
on which the poor creature was to be placed. As
they lifted her from the stretcher she turned to
the child, with a wilder rolling of her eyes and a
more hurried breathing:
" You won't take her from me, — the doctor said
I might keep her."
Passion was blended with the quivering entreaty
in her tones, as if, weak though she was, she would
have contested her right to the child.
The nurse answered quietly: "Oh no; you can
keep her. I shall find a bed for her somewhere."
" I don't want any bed," spoke up the little girl ;
"I shall not leave my mamma"; and then burst,
forth the grief so unnaturally restrained. It was
not loud ; as if, with an unusual sense of propriety,
she felt she must not disturb the other patients;
but it was deep, and heart-broken, and told of an
utter abandonment to all that a child could possi-
bly know of sorrow.
The poor old wakeful consumptive in the bed
opposite, whose sleep was so little, and so broker^
by pain of wliich she never told, looked a tender
sympathy from her gaunt, hollow eyes.
The nurse lingered by the bedside, adjusting
the coverlet and arranging the woman's night-
dress,— suddenly her fingers came in contact with
a worn brown string about the patient's neck.
The latter's hands were up in a moment as if to
guard it.
" Oh, I am not going to take it! " said the nurse,
somewhat pettishly; "I never touch any of the
charms you Catholics wear."
"I am not a Catholic," answered the sick woman,
" but I would not part with this, my charm " ; and
she raised the faded Scapular, attached to the
worn string, to her lips.
"Singular," answered the nurse, "if you are
not a Catliolic, that you should wear that!''
The patient did not reply, and after a little, as if
she waited to hear more, the nurse went away.
Doctor A only shook his head when he
paused at the poor creature's bed, the next morn-
ing, and said something in an undertone to the
nurse. But the sick woman caught the import.
She started up :
"Tell mey doctor— I wzwsi know— shall I die soon ?"
"Be quiet, my good woman," he answered,
softly; "it is only quiet will do you good now."
" I will be quiet when you tell me ; must I leave
her soon?" She pointed to the child, the little
old-fashioned child, who seemed also to have heard
and understood his words.
The doctor could not evade the inquiry, nor
could he turn from those burning eyes.
" If you have any friends to see, any affairs to
arrange, you had better attend to all at once; you
have but a few days to live."
She smiled bitterly, and sank back upon the
pillow.- "Thank you, doctor," she said, quietly,
turning her face away as if she wished him to de-
part. Then she motioned the little one to her.
The child obeyed, going round by the wall, where
a screen concealed them from the patient on that
side, and where they might talk without being
overheard or much observed by the patient on the
other; but the poor old consumptive opposite
could see them plainly. The mother wound her
arms about the child. "My precious Mima!
what will you do without me?"
The little one's lips quivered ; the sick woman
continued: "Try and keep from crying now, my
darling, and listen to me. We've been so much
to each other since papa died — we've loved each
other so much, and we were happy, though we
were so poor, till this sickness came. But now,
the hardest part will be for you. Oh, my pre-
cious ! they will put you with the paupers ; theywill
break your little heart as mine is breaking now."
Neither mother nor child could speak more.
Both were sobbing.'
At that instant, a sweet-faced Sister of Charity
paused beside the bed of the poor old consump-
tive; the latter seemed to tell her something about
the sobbing pair, for she cast sympathizing looks^
across, and finally came and stood beside thera.
"You seem in distress," she said, softly; "can
I help you?" '
The sound of her voice, so different to the cold,
unsympathetic tones to which mother and chikl
had been accustomed, and the tender expres-
sion in her face, touched the poor sick woman
anew; her tears continued to flow, but they were
more tears of relief now than of sorrow. In a little
while she had poured forth her simple, touching,
though commonplace tale.
" Then you are not a Catholic," said the Sister,
and at the same time her eyes glanced with some
wonder to the faded Scapular, which had become
slightly exposed.
The patient shook her head.
"But why wear this, if you are not? " and the
Sister pointed ^o the sacred badge.
The woman's fingers wound lovingly about it.
"I have not told you all," she said, slightly rais-
ing herself "When a mere child, I was taken
Jj^SO
Ave Maria.
once into a Catholic church. That which most
impressed me was the picture of a fair, sweet-faced
lady, and the person who had charge of me told
me' it was the picture of the Mother of God. I
never forgot it — the very folds of her blue robe
seemed to hang about me in my dreams, and fre-
quently in my childish pastimes I found myself
trying to recall more vividly the lineaments of her
heavenly face. Perhaps one reason of this singu-
lar fancy was that I had never known my own
mother, and the very term, ' God's Mother,' thrilled
my little heart through and through. I was sent
to the most rigid Protestant schools; I was taught
to regard the t^hurch of Rome as a hot-bed of in-
iquity, and her ministers as ravening wolves. I
gave unreflecting assent to it all, till they would
make me believe ill things of God's Mother. My
heart rebelled against that — she was always to me
the sweet vision I had once beheld, and not even
stripes could have made me forget that.
" One night," her voice sank to a more guarded
whisper, " in the first weeks of my widowhood,
when poverty and loneliness pressed so hard upon
me that it seemed as if I must fly somewhere for
relief, I snatched up my baby, then only six
months old, and rushed down to the street. It
was late in the night and few were out, so I could
pace the walk, or stand undisturbed on the rick-
etty stoop. The night was so bright and calm,
and the stars had such a pure glow that it made
me quiet despite myself, and I looked from my
sleeping baby to the distant sky with more of a
feeling of peace than I had since my husband's
death. Suddenly I was startled by a cry — it came
from the alley near, and in a moment a woman
rushed out. I knew her face — I had seen her some-
times, and noticed her^more particularly because
of her flaunting finery. She wore the same flaunt-
ing finery now, but lier dishevelled hair and her
face swollen from weeping made it look the
more strangely. She saw me, but did not seem
to heed me; she paused just a little in front of me
and threw up her arms in a frantic way.
" ' Mother of God ! ' she cried ; the words startled
me, for any allusion to the Mother of God was
wont to thrill me.
'"Mother of God,' she repeated, '|I can stand it
no longer — it is you who have saved me so long,
but to-night the temptation is too great. While I
wear your livery, I cannot do it — your hands seem
to hold me back, but now I shall be free.'
"She tore something from her neck, and flung
it into the street. I know not what queer feeling
seized me, but it seemed as if my very heart quiv-
ered at the act. I knewlshe had^thrown away
something that had something to do with the
Mother of God— that thought was sufficient for
me. I hurried to the street, and picked up this,"
touching the faded brown Scapular.
"I did not know its name; I had never seen
anything like it before, but still I felt as if I held
something sacred. I came back with it to the
woman.
"'Tell me about this,' I said; 'why did you
throw it away? and, if you don't want it, may I
keep it?' Slie laughed a bitter, mocking laugh.
"'You want it, do you? well, \ou may have it.
It has kept me from destroying myself, for while
I wore that I was still in some measure her child,
the child of the Mother of God, and she protected
me ; but now I am free from her care ; I can sin
as I will.'
"She turned and fled into the alley.
" I cannot tell you how J felt then ; I'firmly'he-
lieved her words, and it seemed as if I had re-
ceived some powerful charm. I kissed it rever-
ently and put it round my neck.
" The next morning a girl was discovered in the
house just back of the alley, dead. She had taken
poison the night before, and had died alone. It
was she who had flung this away.
" That event burned a love of this badge into my
heart. I would feel for it numberless times through
the day, to be sure that it was safe in my bosom —
I would anxiously watch the string lest it was
wearing out too rapidly; but still, with all this, I
had no desire to become a Catholic, nor have I
now; I have only a wild wish to see and know the
Mother of God. I speak to her sometimes when
nobody hears, and I ask her to do something for
my little Mima."
The Sister's eyes were moist. ",'She will do
something for your little one, and for you too.
Your love for her has really made you her child."
"Do you think so?" and the black eyes bright-
ened with hope and joy.
Again and again the sweet-faced Sister came to
that bedside, and it was always to be pressed to
tell of the Mother op God. She did so, and with
the Mother she told of the Son — the gracious, ten-
der, loving Sou, till the poor patient's heart thrilled
with a love of which she never dreamed, and her
mind opened to the Truth she had never before
known. Perchance the ceaseless prayers of the poor
old consumptive opposite, her suflerings borne in
silence and off"ered to God in behalf of those who
knew not how, or cared not, to pray or suffer for
themselves, won a speedier dawning of the light
on the poor patient's soul.
She died on the day of her First Communion ;
peacefully, blissfully died. The Sister had prom-
ised to take charge of Mima, or Mary, as she was
known since her baptism, which took place the
day before her mother's death, and the little pre-
maturely old-fashioned child loved next to her
mother the black-robed religieuse.
The poor old consumptive felt a tie less to
earth when she saw the dead woman borne forth,
and the little sobbing child led away by the Sis-
ter. But her own summons came speedily, and
as earthly hands had rarely ministered to her
living wants, so earthly hands were not permitted
to assist at her dying throes. She died alone,
unnoticed, while the night-nurse read at the long
table, and the patients slumbered the fitful, fevered
sleep of disease.
Little Mary, tenderly cared for by the self-sac-
rificing Sister, lived to a fragile, suff'ering maid-
enhood. She was always old beyond her years,
but it became a winsome maturity, as she"^grew
in stature, which made her verj'- presence a boon.
If she did not mingle in the pastimes of her age,
and if an undefinable shadow seemed ever upon
her, it was because of thoughts too deep to per-
mit her to live as lightly and as joyfully as others
lived. But her quiet endurance of bo'dily weak-
ners and pain, her sweet thoughtfulness for others,
and above all, her fervent devotion to the Mother
of God, showed the charming virtues which
adorned her soul. She died in her eighteenth
summer; to use her own words, she went "to join
God's Mother and her'own loved mamma-".
AVE MARIA.
i^ (SlatMic f 0i«:ttal AtvaitA U tlw ^amx d iht ^ImtA virgin
Henceforth all genei\a.tion3 shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., JULY 29, 1876.
No. 31.
Our Lady of the Compassion.
BY ELIZA A. STAKR.
Entering St. Peter's, we see in the first chapel
on the right hand of the lofty nave that Pietd by
which Michael Angelo consecrated his genius to
the service of Our Lady of Sorrows when only
twenty-four years of age. Of all the works by
this great master, none is held closer to the heart
of Christendom than this, which is spoken of in
the guide-books as an " admirable early work by
Michael Angelo." But how faintly does this
praise convey to the mind its real charm! What
a theme for a youthful sculptor! What a solemn
and pathetic meaning abides in this flower from
the Spring of Michael Angelo's long life!
We have never been able to pass this chapel
without kneeling before it; kneeling, not merely
by way of a genuflection, but long enough to
slip a few of our Seven-Dolor beads through our
fingers. The light upon the group is almost in-
variably dim; and the figure of Mary with her
Son dead upon her knees gleams out of the twi-
light as it might have gleamed out of the linger-
ing gloom of that three hours' eclipse on the first
Good Friday; while the lax body of the Crucified
One could hardly have looked more like ivory on
the knees of the Virgin Mother herself than does
this statue by the young sculptor of only twenty-
four years. Even in Rome we see copies of this
Pietd; but we need not say how every one falls
short of the pathetic grandeur of the original.
Michaer Angelo himself could never have pro-
duced this a second time. It was one of the in-
spirations of his life, and he breathed it forth,
perhaps almost unconsciously, into the pure mar.
ble. There is all the sorrow of the Passion in
that lifeless form and in the face of the Mother;
but there is nothing of the bodily anguish except-
ing that death, to which it was the prelude, tells
its own story. There are no gaping wounds, no
blood-stains; all is hushed. The plaint of the
Blessed Virgin is a noiseless one. He, the Holy
One, the Creator of life, lies on her knees without
breath, without pulse, without motion of any sort
however faint. This says all for the Virgin
Mother which her own lips could say, and we
feel that she is silent. She does not even sigh,
"Oh all ye that pass by the way, see if there is
any sorrow like to my sorrow!" For the first
time since that Passion began, by which the world
was to be redeemed, she has her Son to herself.
There are no judges, no pharisees, no' Roman
soldiers to take from her the sacred rights of her
maternity. Even the disciples, who had pre-
sumed more than once to stand between their
Master and those who tried to approach Him,
leave Mary free to do as she will. It is this first
moment of consolation in the midst of anguish
which the artist has instinctively chosen ; for al-
though dead, she can still claim Him as her own.
For this brief moment's space there is no outside
world for Mary. She is absorbed in her Son, and
seems to take Him to herself again as if she had
never given Him to the world at Bethlehem.
He is to her just what He was when a Babe in
the stable. Again He is helpless; again He lies
upon her knees; and this is enough!
All this had shone forth in its twilight way in
the ordinary dimness of the chapel as we had
seen it. But, one morning, going very early to St.
Peter's, the rising sun sent its clear rays directly
through the white window upon the Pietd. There
was something almost startling in this, and we
were afraid that some charm would be dispelled
under this new condition. But no. The great
master, who delighted, as years went on, and
knowledge increased, to express through the mus-
cles of the body the emotions of the soul, has
been too much engrossed with his subject, too
utterly wrapped in the sense of the divine beauty
J.V6 Maria.
of Him who was " beautiful above all the sons of
men," and of her who is " fair as the moon, bright
as the sun," to descend, one moment, from that
"hill of frankincense and mountain of myrrh,"
where the ideal has mastered even the genius of
Michael Angelo. The rising sun only illumines,
glorifies the sorrows of Mary, the sleep, in death,
of her Son. It brings out no line of care, of lurk-
ing unresignation. The sacrifice of the Son on
Calvary had been a voluntary one; and so had
been the martyrdom of the Mother. The morn-
ing light on the Pietd only reveals its perfection.
And thus, we said, will that light of the moment
of judgment, the private judgment of God, beau-
tify the actions and lives of His saints. For,
beautiful as those actions and lives may have
appeared amid the twilight of " this valley of tears,"
their perfection can only be discerned when they
stand in the light of God's countenance. Then,
too, the lives which the world has esteemed as
little better than madness, and the end which has
seemed to have so little in it to honor, will take
on themselves the glory of heaven.
But this Pietd of Michael Angelo reveals also to
the whole world — to all who revere his genius,
hawever they may despise and reject the faith
which gave a supernatural aim to that genius —
the fact that not only is the heart of youth suscep-
tible to natural pity or compassion, but to supernat-
ural sympathy with the sorrows of Jesus and of
His Mother.
Of all those glances of compassion which we
have seen thrown upon a crucifix, none have ever
seemed to us so touching as those given through
the eyes of the young; of those whom sorrow
never seemed to have touched in a personal way.
In this city of the soul, this Rome in which relig-
ion has set up her shrines on the very corners of
the streets, at the head of dark alleys, in places so
forlorn, so comfortless, that we shudder to think
that human beings must live and die in them ; set
them up, too, as trophies of the victories which
Mary has gained over poverty, over all the ills of
mortality ; in this Rome we see, everywhere, the
picture of the Mother of Sorrows ; and before this
picture, with its ever burning lamp, how many a
one do we see kneel, whose burden seems too
heavy for her to bear ! And yet, of all whom we
see pausing before these shrines, none touch us so
deeply as the young. Their looks of innocent
compassion have nothing of selfishness in them.
The weary, the heart-broken, go to Mary to be
consoled ; the young seem to* go to her to offer her
consolation. This pity is a supernatural pity;
this compassion a supernatural compassion, cher-
ished for Mary's own sake and for the sake of her
crucified Son. The time will come when these
untried hearts will stretch out their arms to her
from the deep waters of their aflliction ; when they
will call upon her in a Memorare full of anguish ;
can it be that Mary will ever be indifferent to
their sorrows who have so guilelessly pitied hers?
And how this thought has come to the mind afresh
whenever we have knelt before this Pietd by the
young Michael Angelo ! His life was full of tu-
mults, reverses, disappointments ; yet the troubled
life went on and on, to beyond fourscore years;
and who can say how many graces, how many in-
terior consolations came to the soul of Michael
Angelo in return for this pious offering which he
made in his youth at the shrine of the Mother of
Sorrows? We know that Michael Angelo was
always devout; we know that he died as they die
who have lived for something more than the es-
teem or applause of men ; and how much of all
this, in a generation where so many artists seemed
to turn from the Creator to His creature, may we
not believe was given to him in return for the
Pietd of his youth ?
Beautiful Lenten days, when the gleam of pur-
ple subdues the brightness of the sanctuary!
When among the white daisies of the Roman
greensward is found the same gleam of purple in
the fragrant violets and the stately anemones!
Beautiful Lenten days, which open so many
fountains of holy meditation, arrest so many a
hurried and anxious step before the Stations
of His Cross whose only haste was that our re-
demption might be accomplished ! How tenderly
the strains of the Stabat Mater, that addolorata
which rose to heaven like an act of reparation on
the first Sunday of the Carnival, fall upon the ear
now that the piping sounds of worldly gaiety are all
hushed! A few more days, and the paschal joys
will come again, and to these will succeed the Feast
of the Blessed Sacrament. The year seems made
up of joy ; only, during these Lenten days, a minor
key is touched by the finger of the Church ; touched
not only in the hearts of the old and the care-
worn and the sorrowful, but in the hearts of the
young and of the happy. Turn then, you whose
lips do not know the taste of sorrow, whose feet
have trodden only pleasant ways ; and while the
three beads which commemorate the tears of Our
Lady of Sorrows pass through your fingers, or
while you kneel before the Stations of the Cross
or join your voice to the chant of the Stabat Mater,
remember that this is your privileged time, your
time of supererogation. And although no chapel,
certainly no chapel in the Basilica of St. Peter,
may bear witness to your fidelity, memory will
keep a chapel hidden, shaded, but ever peaceful,
in which the image of Our Lady of Sorrows will
be always ready to receive you ; a veritable Pietd
Ave Maria.
483
before which you can never be ashamed to cry
out in any sorrow or tribulation, " Memorare, 0
piisaima Virgo Maria !^^ for sh*e will be to you, in
life and in death, our most gentle and most power-
ful Lady of the Compassion.
Rome, March, 1876.
Italian Mariners' Hymn to the Blessed Vir-
gin.
BY MRS. ANNA H. DORSET.
[The sentiment of the following beautiful lines
reminds us of a fact related of the seamen of
Manilla, the principal city of Luzon, in the Phil-
ippine Islands, and which afiected us not a little
on first hearing it. Anyone who has made a
voyage in a sailing vessel must have remarked
the manner in which seamen measure time
while heaving up anchor, mast-heading their sails,
or doing other heavy work where united effort
is required; but the sailors of Manilla, instead
of the light songs used by European and Amer-
ican seamen, sing the Litany of Loretto, one per-
son chaunting the various titles of the Litany,
which are responded to by the rest of the crew in
chorus chaunting the Ora pro nobis. A traveller
mentions another instance of devotion to the
Holy Mother o? G-od witnessed by him while
at Manilla. A number of laborers were once
employed on the night preceding a festival of the
Blessed Virgin in discharging the cargo of an
American vessel in the port, and, not being able to
satisfy their devotion otherwise, they took up a
collection and bought candles, placing them in
various parts of the ship in which they were at
work.
It is needless to say that the simple devotion of
these pious islanders has in a number of in-
stances been singularly rewarded through the in-
tercession of their august Patroness. — Ed. A. M.]
Chorus.
The moon-lit billows lave our bark,
As o'er their surges bright we ride;
Sancta Maria! guide and mark
Our glittering pathway o'er the tide.
Ora pro nobis.
And shine upon our life's wild sea.
Then bid each cloud and tempest flee,
That comes between our souls and thee.
Single Voice.
Rest, brothers, rest upon each oar.
For the night-breeze sighs.
And steals most sweetly from the shore ;
Oh, we fall and rise
As the blue billows round us curl.
And balmy winds our sails unfurl.
Chorus.
Regina Angtlorumt smile
Upon our labors and our toll,
Save tb from dreams of wreck the while
We draw our nets and count our spoil.
Ora pro nobis.
As thou in purest thoughts excel,
Oh, guard our dark-eyed daughters well,
Preserve them from the tempter's spell.
Single Voice.
Rest, brothers! perils wild forget,
From the shore now steals
The light notes of a castinet.
And sweet laughter peals.
With dance of echoing feet along.
Above the surges' whispering song.
Chorus.
Stella Matutinal bless
Our homes beneath the sunny vine,
Restore us to the loved caress
Of those who kneel before thy shrine;
Ora pro nobis!
Preserve their beauty from decay.
And gifts of gold and pearls we'll lay
Upon thine altars when we pray.
Single Voice.
Hear, O Mater SalvatoriSy
Hear our hymn to thee.
Spread thy glittering pinions o'er us —
Scatter rays of love before us,
From eternity !
Chorus.
Furl the white sails— lay by each oar—
We're floating in— the bright sands yield!
Oh soon, our bark, we'll gently moor
On flow'ry shores thy sparkling keel.
Ora pro nobis,
Sancta Maria! hear us when
The mists of death on us descend,
Shield from its gloom our souls.— Amen,
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER IV.
" It strikes me we are in for a stiff gale to-
night," said Colonel Blake; and as the evening
wore on this apprehension was verified. Towards
eleven o'clock the wind blew fiercely, breaking
in heavy gusts against the front of the house,
which faced the bay, and whistling and shrieking
round the corners.
" It is quite a hurricane," said Mr. Ringwood ;
" are you accustomed to this sort of thing, that
you take it so easy ? "
"Oh, yes," said Lady Margaret, laughing;
"we are; you must remember that we are pre.
cisely in the position of a wind-mill, perched
on a height, so as to catch the wind from every
4S4
Ave Maria.
point of the compass; it blows right into our
faces all the way from America ; it comes down
onus behind from* the mountains, and it flogs
us right and left from the hills and the valley;
there is no escape from any side. But the house
is as solid as a rock; you need not be alarmeii;
it will not be blown down."
" I was not thinking of such a catastrophe,"
said Mr. Ringwood; " I was thinking of the
danger to the poor people in the huts perched
all over the hill-sides and under the cliffs."
" They are well sheltered, and more solid than
they look," said the Colonel ; " the rogues are wide
awake, and know right well how to dodge the
wind ; they are as safe as we are ; the people to be
uneasy for are the fishernien who are out at sea ;
but I don't think many have sailed lately from
our ports, and if they are not very far out they
have had timely warning of the gale, and have,
most likely, put into port somewhere. It has
been blowing up for a storm these twelve hours."
Still, when the little party broke, up Mr. Ring-
wood could not but tremble for the wayfarers who
were exposed, even under the most favorable cir-
cumstances, to the fury of the night.
*' Try and get to sleep at once, before it grows
worse ; if not, you will be kept awake all night
with the noise," was his host's parting good-night,
as they took their candles from the hall table and
went upstairs. But he could not follow the advice ;
he did not even try ; and after watching the shower
from his window for some time, he gave up the idea
of going to bed at all, and determined to sit up and
pass the night reading, and praying for the poor
souls who were out at sea. The fury of the tem-
pest was now at its height, and it surpassed any-
thing he had ever beheld. The night was dark ;
a swift white moon was flying like a phantom
through the clouds that strewed the sky like
black rays ; not a star was to be seen ; down below,
the breakers rolled in with a noise like thunder,
booming against the rocks, and foaming in white
billows all along the coast; the wind, all the
winds, swept down and roared at them; dense
blackness was everywhere; you could just distin-
guish the Twelve Piers looming with a separate
blackness against the sombre sky; the rain fell in
torrents, as if the clouds were one immense bucket
that was being emptied over the earth. Mr. Ring-
wood was fascinated by the gloomy grandeur of
the spectacle, and could not tear himself away
from it. Was it possible that they were asleep in
the house while this tremendous uproar was go-
ing on! He opened his door to see if light was
visible through chinks o<r key-holes in the adjoin-
ing rooms ; his host's was on the opposite side of
the landing, but no ray or sound gave notice that
its occupants were up or awake. He closed the
door noiselessly and went back to the window
and knelt down to pray ; he thought of the souls |
who were in their death-struggle, with no priest \
at hand to help or to absolve. |
"Oh, God! have mercy on them! give them i
grace to make an act of perfect contrition at the
last moment!" he cried, as a terrific gust broke
full against the window, trying the timber till it
seemed as if it must give way.
So he spent the night, wrestling until dawn, and
holding up his hands for the victims of the storm.
Towards daybreak its fury abated, and, worn out
with, emotion and fatigue, he flung himself on the
bed and was soon fast asleep. If he had but
waited a few minutes longer, and cast one more
look out over the sea, he would not have thought
of rest. A little boat was fighting its way towards
the shore, tossing wildly over the waves, that still
ran mountains high although the storm was sub-
siding on land. Two men were in the boat, but
their hands were stiffening with cold ; they were
exhausted by the long struggle and beaten almost
to death by the waves; still the little craft fought
gallantly on, now floating light as a feather on the
white crest of the breaker8,.now disappearing into
the black depths, and, rising quickly again, it
seemed to be making head against the wind rather
from sheer force of inanimate iastinct than from
any guidance of its half-paralyzed occupants. If
only Mr. Ringwood had watched a few moments
longer, and seen it, and called up the household
to send down help to the shore !
" What a fearful night it has been ! " he ex-
claimed the first thing on meeting his hosts in
the breakfast-room.
"So I hear from Burke," said the Colonel;
" luckily I fell asleep at once, and heard nothing
more of it after we parted."
"I am afraid you have not fared so well," said
Lady Margaret, noticing her guest's haggard face;
" you have passed a bad night, I see ? "
"I did not get much rest; I never heard any-
thing so tremendous as the noise of the sea and
the wind roaring and howling together, and then
I could not help thinking all the time of the poor
people out at sea; I fear there must have been
many disasters amongst those fishing-crafts you
spoke of," said Mr. Ringwood ; and, going to the
deep bay-window, he looked out over the wide
field of waters, still sullenly heaving in leaden
waves from the horizon to the shore, agitated but
broken, like a human soul exhausted after an out-
burst of passion.
"Oh, please God, they are all safe," said the
Colonel, cheerily; "they had timely warning;
they are sure to have put into port, all of them.
Ave Maria.
485
Come, now, Reverend Father, let us tackle to
business; what do you start with? Will you
have a shot at a herring? I always recommend
them as native produce. But, stop a moment;
here comes Burke with something else; boiled
salmon, eh?"
" Yis, sir," said Burke, uncovering the savory
dish.
"Any news from the cliffs?" said his master.
"Not yet, sir; it's been an awful night intirely
for the poor fishermen, God rest their sowls!"
"Why, man! don't go burying them till you
know they are dead! No use saying good-mor-
row to the devil before you meet him. Give the
fire a poke, and throw on a fresh log; one wants
a blaze indoors to enliven that sky. Well, now,
Ringwood, what are you going to attack first?"
The business of breakfast began, and under the
united stimulants of his host's cheery spirit and
Lady Margaret's delicious tea, Mr. Ringwood was
beginning to feel happier in his mind, and to re-
vive from the painful influence of the night.
They had not proceeded far, however, when the
door burst open, and Burke appeared, with a
scared face.
"What is the matter?" cried master and mis-
tress, together.
" Plase, sir, my lady, it's poor Dan Torry ! "
"Good Heavens!"
" What has happened to him ? "
"He's dhrownded, and he's calling for the
priest."
Mr. Ringwood was at the door in an instant.
" Hold a minute, Ringwood ! " cried the Colonel,
hurrying after him, and catching him by the arm:
" you had better have a horse ; it will be quicker.
Burke, you run off and tell Mat to saddle the
roan! No: stop a minute! Come along, Ring-
wood ; we'll do it ourselves."
They hurried away together; while Lady Mar-
garet, pale and trembling, began to question
Burke. He could tell her little beyond the bare
fact that one of the people had come running up
for the priest to confess Dan, who was drowned ;
the poor Mlow had called for Father Pat, but
there was no time to send so far; luckily some
one remembered the English priest at The Towers.
"Did he, then, go fishing last night? I saw
him in the afternoon," said Lady Margaret.
"Not he, my lady; the poor lad went out in a
boat on'y a while ago, to help two unfortunate
fellows that was like to dhrown; one o' them
went to the bottom, and poor Dan saved th' other;
but it cost him dear, glory be to God ! "
Meantime Colonel Blake was helping Mr. Ring-
wood into the saddle. It was hard to say which of
the two men looked most anxious and full of haste.
"The second cabin to the right, after you pass
the chapel ; Meg will take you there in ten min-
utes ; don't spare her, and God speed you ! " the
Colonel cried, as Meg Merrilies, his favorite hun-
ter, the swiftest foot in the stables, bore the priest
away ; he watched her fly down' the avenue for
a moment, and then went back to the house. Lady
Margaret met him in the hall; he had come for his
hat, and, having put it on, was hurrying away
again.
"Where is the use of your rushing off so?
Come in and have your breakfast," said his wife.
"I must go," replied the Colonel; "I want to
know if Ringwood got there in time."
"If he did not, your rushing after him will
remedy nothing. Come in, dearest, and eat some-
thing; do, I beg of you!" she said, coaxingly.
He gave in to her, as he generally did.
Lady Margaret was surprised to see him so ex-
cited. It was natural that the startling announce-
ment of poor Dan's sudden and violent death
should both pain and shock him, but this did not
explain his extraordinary anxiety about Mr.
Ringwood's reaching in time. These poor peo-
ple looked on their priest as a sort of demi-God,
endowed with special powers for helping them in
the last passage, and it was natural that Dan, being
a devout Catholic, should wish for this help, and
that his master, who was so kind-hearted, should
wish to gratify the desire; but this did not ex-
plain Colonel Blake's intense eagerness in the mat-
ter; if he had been a papist himself he could not
be more excited about it. She tried to silence
certain vague fears that suggested themselves, and
set down her husband's inconsistent behavior to
his hot Celtic temperament.
The Colonel meanwhile made short work of his
breakfast, and set off to the cabin, where Mr.
Ringwood had arrived long before him. As he
approached the spot, a sound of wailing from
within announced that all was over for Dan Torry
in this world. Burke, who was standing amidst
a knot of neighbors at the door, saw his master
advancing, and immediately informed Mr. Ring-
wood.
" You were too late ? " said the Colonel, as the
priest stepped out to speak to him.
" No, thank God. I was in ample time ; the poor
fellow had his full consciousness to the last ; he
hds just expired."
Colonel Blake said nothing; but every feature
in his face cried "Thank God!" as plainly as
ever the words were spoken.
"Can I do anything to be of use?" he said.
"Not that I can see at.present. The people are
most kind and affectionate, and will do all that is
necessary for the moment."
486
Ave Maria.
" My wife will be down presently ; she was very
fond of Dan, and I dare say she will be a comfort
to the widow."
Lady Margaret's pony carriage came in sight
as they spoke.
*' So it is all over ! " she exclaimed ; " how is
the poor wife ? will she let me in, do you think ? "
" I dare say she will be very glad to see you,"
said Mr. Ringwood ; " I never saw anything more
beautiful than the way she is bearing it, poor
creature."
Lady Margaret went in. The cabin was com-
posed of two rooms ; the first was the kitchen and
dwelling-room ; it was thick with smoke, although
the fire was almost out, only a few lumps of turf
smouldered on the hearth ; it was crowded with a
number of persons whom the news of the catas-
trophe had gathered quickly round the widow,
and who were expressing their sorrow for the
dead and their sympathy with the living in loud
whispers and expressive gestures. Every one
moved when she appeared, dipping respectfully,
and murmuring welcomes in Irish. She passed
through them into the inner room, where on his
lowly couch lay Dan, sleeping his last sleep. The
body was still warm, and yet the majesty of death
had already touched and beautified it ; a sweet
smile flitted about the mouth where she had so
often seen the ndim drollery that was familiar to
his uncouth, honest face ; a serene and royal
peace lay on the brow, from which a loving hand
had swept back the dripping hair. His wife was
sitting by the bed-side, sobbing softly, as she
looked at him and murmured tender words.
When Lady Margaret entered the little room she
looked up at her with an expression of resigned,
heart-breaking misery, while the tears flowed co-
piously. A sweet, womanly impulse prompted
Lady Margaret to fall on her knees by the widow's
side and clasp her in lier arms.
" My poor Molly ! May God comfort you ! My
heart is bleeding for you ! But you know how
good he was ; he is surely with God ! "
" Oh, he is; he is! Glory be to the Lord God
for His mercy ! " cried Molly, clasping her hands,
and looking up with a sudden light in h.er face
that positively glorified it ; " and didn't he have
the priest to comfort him, and ivery thing at the
last, as he always prayed for! Shure and it'^
nothin' less than a miracle o' the goodness o' God
that did it, and brought a sthrange priest to the
very dure for me poor boy! He'd ha' died with-
out one if we had to wait for Father Pat. Oh,
and shure I'm not unmindful of it to the Mother
o' God that did it for us, and I'll thank her ivery day
o' my life, whether it be long or short ; but me
heart's broke ! me heart's broke ! "
" It is, dear Molly; but God will comfort you,"
said Lady Margaret, stroking her hair, while
tears of pity not unmixed with wondering admi-
ration streamed from her own bright eyes.
"You are right, my dear child," said Mr Ring-
wood, who now came in, having induced some of
the neighbors to clear out of the outer room and
make a little breathing space; "God has shown a
special care of your husband in providing abso-
lution for' him so unexpectedly at the last; re-
member too what a brave, beautiful death he has
had! It is the death of a martyr; he perished in
saving a fellow-creature from death! what could
be more beautiful ! "
"Yis, Father, yis! It's a blessed going home
for my darlint. I ought to be singing a hymn of
joy on my knees, I ought; but shure God won't
be angry wid me if me heart's broke and I can't!"
She clasped her hands, and rocked herself to and
fro, while her eyes were fixed on the dead man's
face with an expression of tenderness, congratula-
tion and sorrow, more beautiful and touching
than anything that words could describe; her
heart might be broken, as she said, but her soul,
borne on the wings of faith, rose above her sorrow,
and followed her lost one to the home where she
saw him now, happy and crowned in the company
of the blessed.
[to be continued.]
Louise Lateau.
a visit to bois d'haine.
[Continued.]
A few minutes more and the two had arrived
in Bois d'Haine. Passing by the schools, one of
which is a charitable institution then in process of
erection, they found themselves face to face with
the village church— an entirely new structure of
red brick. Entering the open portals, they were
in an interior of true gothic ; a lofty nave, two lat-
eral aisles, and a transept, making that cruciform
church by which the Catholics of northern Europe
mark the distinction between their ecftesiastical
architecture and that of the Lutherans. As yet
this interior was but half finished. The tempo-
rary altars were evidently those of the former
tiny church, and in one end of the transept hung
the Stations of the Via Crucis,—r\ide paintings
on wood, and half defaced by time and mildew ;
and yet they were admitted to the new church,
for a European priest would never allow his
church to be destitute of these important adjuncts
just because the old Stations were too small, or
not suited to his taste. And how often does God,
despising the wisdom of the world and choosing
Ave Maria.
487
that which it calls weak and foolish, work His
most beautiful miracles of grace by means of just
such rude instruments as these unsightly pictures!
Yet, just as unsightly as they were, these Stations
were far more precious than the most costly
works of modern art, for it is by following the
meditations inspired by them that Louise Lateau
has at length arrived on the heights of Calvary.
On the Gospel side of the sanctuary stood a
half life-size wooden statue of our Lord as He
appeared to Blessed Margaret Mary. A Paris
work probably, for we recognized the brilliant
yet delicate coloring of the artists of the Rue St.
Sulpice and its neighborhood. For, contrary to
American ideas of good taste, continental artists
pronounce color, properly applied, an indispensa-
ble adjunct to statues of wood or terra-cotta. The
facts of nature are carefully copied; and, far
from resulting in gaudiness, the effect produced
is wonderful. A non-Catholic, a modern Sybarite,
would have termed the Wounds "painfully re-
volting," but a Catholic could not fail to find in
their startling fidelity to truth food for devotion
and contrition.
The windows in the body of the church are
composed of pieces of colored glass arranged in
Arabesque; those over the high altar are not only
larger, but they are the true stained windows,
containing the figures of saints. Among these
stands conspicuous St. Francis of Assisi, the glo-
rious chief of those "Angels who bear the like-
ness of the Living God." There is also Our Lady
of tl^e Seven Dolors, the companion-pane of the
Sacred Heart of Jesus.. There are St. John the
Evangelist and the Prophet Isaias, the Baptism of
our Lord, and the Descent from the Cross. Al-
though not executed in the highest style of the
art, as produced from the factories of Normandy
and Bavaria, these windows would grace many of
the most pretentious of our American churches,
and they form a suitable adornment to the Church
of St, John the Baptist at Bois d'Haine, which no
doubt its pious founders hope that their descend-
ants will know under the added title of St. Louise.
Just a fi^ paces from the church stands a huge
chestnut tree, which on Sundays and festivals
stretches its arms over groups of laughing peasants
talking of seed time and harvest or indulging in
a little harmless gossip.
Beside the church stands the house of the pas-
tor, and it was at its door that the two were to
learn the result of Mgr. Dumont's kind interces-
sion. The door was opened by M. le Cur6 him-
self. "Well, well, come in," was his greeting, and
the ladies saw a priest apparently forty-five years
of age, and, in spite of a certain abruptness, pos-
sessing considerable ease of manner. His coun-
tenance wore an expression of continual abstrac-
tion, such as one might expect from an ordinary
mortal who dwelt continually face to face with
the myteries of Gethsemani and Calvary. His
general appearance was perhaps more distingue
than that of the majority of country pastors, al-
though he seemed to possess their usual simplicity
united to an eccentricity all his own.
Having taken the seats assigned to them, the
ladies stated their errand, asking if M. Niels had
received a letter in their behalf from Mgr. Du-
mont. There were a great many "well, wells"
on the part of M. le Cure, and he led the coversa-
tion in a great many directions, perhaps with the
idea of discovering a little of the character of
the applicants. Although armed with intercession
so powerful, the ladies were far tocw prudent to
make any imperious demands; neither did they
assume a manner too imploring, for M. le Cure
knew their desire without their making use of
either extreme.
In speaking of the church, one of the ladies
said : " It is not every village that possesses such
a church."
"Madame," replied the pastor, "it is not every
village that has Louise Lateau."
And his manner showed that he comprehended
the greatness of the favor which had been be-
stowed on the unpretending harnlet.
" Well, well," said M. le Cure, "there are three
of you, if I remember rightly what Monseigneur
wrote; well, well, come next Friday to Louise's
house, at a quarter past two ; you may remain un-
til a quarter past three."
When he asked us where we were lodged, he
readily believed the tale of the previous night's
discomfort. '' It was always so at Menage." Then
he told us that in the village of Faijt, not half an
hour's walk from Bois d'Haine, we would find
an excellent inn, far removed from railway noises.
" In coming here," said he, "you passed Louise's
house, I am sure; well, on your return, continue
on the paved highway; pass by her cottage; do
not take the field road, and the highway will
bring you to Faijt, where, at the Hotel de la Poste,
you can rest yourselves until Friday."
Following his directions, the two found their
way to Faijt, where they made satisfactory ar-
rangements at the Inn de la Poste. The principal
street of Faijt terminates in a highway leading to
Menage, and in twenty minutes they were able to
inform the one whom they had left of the success
of the application and of the agreeable fact that
better lodgings awaited them elsewhere.
The landlady, overwhelmed with surprise to
think that we had been successful where every
week witnesses so many failures, nevertheless did
4SS
Ave Maria,
not in the midst of her astonishment forget to
make a very shrewd bargain for her son, who
brought a wheelbarrow to carry our satchels to
Faijt.
Here all was different; neatly-furnished bed-
rooms, and a nice little dining-room, where we
were free to sit aad read, or play on the upright
piano, the property of our landlady's little girl.
But we preferred the tranquillity of our own
rooms, where we speat the greater part of the
time between our meals in reading the different
sketches of Louise's life which we had in our pos-
session.
And now, although perhaps abler pens may
have made many of the readers of the Ave Maria
familiar with the chief incidents of Louise's life,
it may be well to give a short outline of the facts,
well-known'to all in Bois d'Haine and its neigh-
borhood, before relating what we ourselves saw of
this miraculous wonder. Much of the following
account is drawn from various approved sources,
confirmed by general report in the vicinity of
Bois d'Haine. Of course, in that which relates to
the supernatural, all due submission is made to
the decrees of Pope Urban VIII and to the Canons
of the Holy Catholic Church.
Louise Lateau was born January 30, 1850, of re-
spectable parents, poor peasants. Her father was a
workman in one of the numerous foundries of the
province of Hainault. His slender pittance barely
sufficed to support his family, which consisted of
a wife and three daughters, of whom Louise was
the youngest. After the birth of Louise, Madame
Lateau was a prey to a lingering malady, from
which she had not even commenced to recover
when, Louise being two months and a half old,
Gregoire Lateau was seized by the smallpox, then
raging violently in Bois d'Haine. In his case it
proved fatal, and to add to the misery of this des-
olate family, Louise herself was struck by the con-
tagion.
The doctor came but rarely, the neighbors never ;
for the unfinished cottage which Gregoire Lateau
had just begun to erect was too far removed from
the rest of the village of Bois d'Haine for any of its
inhabitants to be reminded of this poor family by
seeing their dwelling. So Louise and her mother
had to depend on the little service that could be
rendered by a six-year old child, that being then
the age of Rosine Lateau, the oldest of these three
girls. In one of the doctor's infrequent visits he
enveloped Louise in a large poultice in which the
poor neglected infant remained for several days.
When it was removed, her body was completely
black, and hardly a breath of life remained in her.
Finally Providence took pity on this deserted
family and sent to their aid a distant relative, a
certain Delalieu, who charged himself with the
care of the family until Madame Lateau was, after
years of suffering, completely restored to health,
and her daughters were old enough to earn their
bread.
By the time that Louise had attained the age of
two and a half years she had entirely recovered
from all the effects of the smallpox, not even the
scars remaining. But at this period she again
came in close contact with death. One day, while
playing with her sister Rosine in a neighboring
meadow, she fell into a deep pit filled with stag-
nant water. Rosine called her mother, who,
though still an invalid, ran with all possible speed
to draw her child out of the water. She was in-
sensible, and her mother in her ignorance actually
held her head downward for several minutes so
that she might throw up any ditch-water which
she could have swallowed. God was pleased,
however, to bless the well-meant efforts of the poor
woman and to rescue her daughter from twofold
peril.
[to be continued.]
The Trappistine Nuns.
Our Divine Lord after having established the
Apostolic college or community, founded also a
community of holy women who seem, according
to the testimony of the Evangelists, to have accom-
panied Him during His life and to have attended
to His wants and those of His disciples. It is a
remarkable fact that the lives of the saints, and es-
pecially of the founders of religious orders, fre-
quently offer us parallel instances. Saint Bene-
dict, for example, after having written that mas-
terpiece, his Rule, which his first disciples had
begun to foWow with the most scrupulous fidelity,
was visited by his sister, St. Scholastica. Moved
by the words and holy example of her brother,
she demanded and obtained permission to live un-
der his conduct. A monastery was built for her
at some distance from Monte Cassino and was
soon filled with pious virgins. " IQ| the 12th
century," says a historian, "when th" Order of
Citeaux had extended its fertile branches even
over barbarous peoples, God was unwilling that
women, whose piety seems even better adapted
than that of men to the great works of this insti-
tute, should be deprived of its precious fruits.
And as He knows how to touch the souls of His
chosen ones, He in this instance filled the hearts
of a multitude of holy women with heroic resolu-
tion and enlightened their minds with the rays
of His grace, so that in a short time the forests of
France, of Spain, of Germany and Italy were peo-
t/ive Maria.
489
pled with the most fervent virgins, who under the
white habit of the Cistercian family were as so
many lilies planted in the sterile valley of the
world. A prodigy of the same kind, though per-
haps greater, took place towards the end of the
XVIIIth century. The French Revolution had
dispersed the Cistercian nuns, only a few monas-
teries of whom had adopted the Abbe de Ranee's
reform. But the spirit of God, which had aban-
doned them in punishment of their negligence,
suddenly stirred up the cold and lifeless dust.
Dom. Augustine de Lestrange, the savior and
restorer of the Trappist Order, was the one chosen
by God as the instrument of this unexpected resur-
rection. A great number of nuns of different or-
ders which had been banished from France were
at this time wandering about in foreign lands, seek-
ing a place of refuge and a guide. Some of them
implored the assistance of the savior of the Trap-
pists, and solicited from his zeal a service similar
to that which he had already rendered to his own
Order. Dom. Augustine then conceived the de-
sign of uniting them all under the Trappist Rule,
and of reorganizing the great Cistercian family
with the remnants of the other institutes.
Such is the origin of the Trappistines. The
name alone is new; the congregation really dates
back as far as Saint Bernard and Saint Benedict.
The 14lh of September, 1796, Feast of the Exal-
tation of the Holy Cross, was the birthday of the
Trappistines. Dom. Augustine gave them a mon-
astery, which he called "The Holy Will of God."
It was situated in the parish of St. Branchier,
Switzerland, at some distance from Val-Sante.
Of course, in the precarious state in which their
resources then were, untold hardships and priva-
tions awaited all those who entered-this asylum;
but no sacrifice could deter these chosen souls.
They flocked thither from alj^ countries — of all
conditions and of all ages. The first Trappistine
was Dom. Augustine's own sister, who wished to
imitate Saint Scholastica, sistei' of Saint Benedict,
and the Blessed Humbeline, sister of St. Bernard.
After her must be named Mme. Rosalie de Chal-
anes — in religion, Sister Mary Augustine. The
Princess Aaelaide de Conde, once the idol of the
French Court, entered the novitiate, and was a
subject of edification to all by the constancy with
which she endured the numberless hardships to
which she wfs subjected.
For a year or two everything seemed promising,
but the hour of trial was at hand. The armies of
the French Republic overran Switzerland in 1797,
and the unfortunate religious were once more
obliged to take the weary road of exile.
Bavaria refused them hospitality. The impious
sect of German philosophers would not allow
them to remain undisturbed in Austria. For a
time Russia was the only country in Europe
open to them. They enjoyed a few months of
repose, but subject to a thousand privations and
sufferings. Vanquished at Zurich in 1799, the Em-
peror Paul expelled from his territory all French
immigrants, without even excepting the Trappists.
The Trappists and Trappistines set out from Rus-
sia in April, 1800, en route for Dantzig. Both com-
munities were for a time scattered. Some suc-
ceeded in reaching England; others took up their
residence in Westphalia and other parts of Ger-
many. Finally, in 1812, after the people of Fri-
burg had petitioned their Senate that these good
religious, who had fed the poor and educated the
children, and whose absence had been a calamity
to the country, should be restored to them, Dom,
Augustine led back his two communities to Val-
Sante.
It was not till 1818— after the fall of Napoleon—
that the Trappistines entered France. Their first
convent, which has since become the mother-
house of the Order, was an ancient abbey known
as " Notre Dame des Gardes." An humble sanc-
tuary it then was, and an humble sanctuary
it still remains, but every day enjoying sen-
sible proofs of the favor of Heaven. During
the disastrous war of '70-'71 it was visited by
thousands of pilgrims. Ip the great revival of
religion and faith which took place in France
during the years' 1872 and 1873, it became one of
the most favored and frequented shrines after
Lourdes and Paray-le-Monial. Finally, in 1875,
Rt. Rev. Bishop Freppel, of Angers, brought glad
tidings to the hearts of the fervent Sisters; he
had received from the Holy Father a brief decree-
ing the coronation of "Notre Dame des Gardes,"
an account of which appeared some time ago in
the Ave Maria. The hope is entertained that
the United States will at no distant day be blessed
with a foundation of these devoted religious.
The Apostolate of the Sacred Heart of Jesns
Among the Clergy.
GENERAL INTENTION FOR JULY, FROM THE " MESSEN-
GER OF THE SACRED HEART."
Priests after His own Heart. Such is the ardent de-
sire of the Saviour, in order to renew in the midst of
the modern world the marvels which He wrought of
old through the ministry of His chosen twelve. We
have a duty, which we should not forget: to pray for
the sanctification of the clergy. In no way can we
more faithfully discharge this duty than by supplica-
ting for the ministers of Christ a perfect union with
His Heart— that Heart which is the model of their
490
Ave Marieo.
sanctity, the source of all their strength, and the
principle which gives fruitfulness to their labors.
The devotion to the Heart of Jesus is pre-eminently
the devotion of the priest. The envoy of the Incar-
nate Word to men, called to exercise His power, to
perpetuate His mission, to do His work, it behooves
him to be imbued with the sentiments of the Sacred
Heart, to be animated with Its spirit, to live with Its
life. Hence, without detracting from the advantages
which any Christian may reap from this devotion, He
has promised special graces to those priests who will
make His Heart the rule of their life and the object
of their apostolate: for their ministry will be blessed
with strange efficacy, and they will possess the se-
cret "of moving the most obdurate hearts."
This power does not depend solely upon the promise
of Him who cannot deceive, but is inherent to the
devotion which we are recommending. For the priest
who practices this devotion, not only in its external
forms, but especially according to its true spirit, will
infallibly find in it all that is necessary to render his
labors fruitful, to endow his word with persuasion,
make his action potent, and to win the esteem and
love of those for whose salvation he is laboring.
All, believers and unbelievers, form to themselves
an ideal of sacerdotal virtue, which, when realized,
wins their hearts irresistibly. And what is this ideal?
Behold it realized in the priest who is a man after the
Heart of Jesus. All thought of self is absorbed in
zeal for the interests of God and the good of souls.
He is above the pettiness of vanity, superior to the
susceptibilities of self-love, the rivalries of jealousy
and the bitterness of the most pardonable resentment.
He shirks no labor, shuns no misery. His joy is to
heal the wounded soul with the balm of sympathy,
and he deems a gain any sacrifice undergone to lift
the fallen or sustain the falling. He abhors the sin,
cherishes the sinner. He does all the good he can,
and rejoices at the gdod effected by others. He keeps
severity for himself, but indulgence for others. Such
is the priest according to the Heart of Jesus. It is
true, the perfection of the priestly virtue is not at-
tained by merely adopting this devotion; yet it is
impossible not to approach it nearer and nearer, by
keeping- before our eyes the model which the Heart
of the High Priest offers us. In Him this virtue
shines with a lustre which dispels all illusion: in Him
it is invested with a charm which conquers every
weakness. The love for the Heart of Jesus suits the
least sensitive as well as the most ardent souls. In
the latter it sways every passion, in the former sup-
plies the want of it. The moment this Divine passion
inflames the heart of the priest, that moment wit-
nesses the commencement of his apostolate, and
though his talents be never so humble, you can safely
predict his success. Though he reap not empty ap-
plause, he will harvest immortal souls. Though he
lack that eloquence of style which charms the ear, he
will be strong in that eloquence of the heart which
effects permanent good. From the abundance of his
heart his mouth will speak. Like a fire warming
what it touches, his love for the Sacred Heart will be
communicated to the souls of those with whom he
comes in contact. Men will see in him the man of
God, and they will approach him who wish to come
nearer to God. The spirit of Jesus Christ, with which
he is filled, will attract all hearts; the sin-laden will
seek his sympathy, the just ask his counsel. The
more the voice of nature is silenced, the louder will
speak the voice of the interpreter of the sentiments of
the Divine Heart. His influence will increase in pro-
portion as he gives himself less concern about it,
and those who oppose him will be forced to render
him homage.
May then this pre-eminently sacerdotal spirit— the
spirit of the Heart of Jesus— be spread more and
more among the ministers of the Gospel. May it
raise us all above ourselves, unite us in one thought
and one desire: replace private interests by those
grand eternal interests common to all; destroy and
prevent all divisions and oppositions, and combine all
our strength into one impregnable bulwark to resist
the encroachment of impiety. The day may not be
far off when we will have to meet a most furious as-
sault, and can we better prepare to repel it triumph-
antly than by arming ourselves with the strength
of the God of armies, and rallying around His stand-
ard? Borne aloft by our hands, this standard will
inspire with indomitable courage the holy army en-
trusted to our leadership, and dispirit with terror the
enemies of our holy religion: By this sign thou shalt
conquer.
It is then a matter of cardinal importance for the
clergy and the Church that the devotion to the Sa-
cred Heart should be propagated among the minis-
ters of our holy religion. There is nothing which
our Saviour desires more ardently, and consequently
nothing for*which it behooves the faithful to pray
more fervently and perseveringly.
This duty devolves with peculiar responsibility
upon the Associates of the Apostleship of Prayer.
For if the priest needs to lean upon the Heart of
Jesus, we may. say that the Saviour reciprocally needs
the sacerdotal ministry to make Himself known arid
loved by men. The more useful for the sanctification
of the clergy is the devotion to the Sacred Heart, the
more useful is the zeal of the clergy for this devotion,
that it may bear the abundant fruits which the prom-
ises of the Saviour, the predictions of holy men, and
the instinct of pious souls warrant us to expect. In
a certain way, God has precluded the possibility of
dispensing with the co-operation of the clergy, since
He has established the order and intends that it
should be perpetual. He may employ other instru-
ments to produce particular effects, but until time
shall have ceased to be, the ministry will be the ordi-
nary channel by which grace is communicated and
diffused throughout the world. HenCe we may not
expect any considerable bestowal of the riches of the
Sacred Heart on society unless this Divine Heart be-
gin by diffusing more abundantly Its spirit among
Its ministers.
This necessity, based upon the constitution of
Christian society, is a fact which daily challenges the
notice of the Promoters of the Sacred Heart. Their
devotedness, even when least seconded, is never en-
tdve Maria.
491
tirely sterile. Fire will ever warm though its radia-
tion encounters many obstacles. When we ardently
love Jesus Christ, we never lack occasions of speakini?
of Him, showing how He may be honored, manifesting
the benedictions attached to the devotion to His
Heart, and of spreading His apostolate. But what
an impulse — what fecundity attaches to this work
when seconded and sustained by the direction of a
zealous priest: when instead of merely tolerating this
devotion, the curate of a parish or the superior of a
religious house, aware of the powerful lever which it
puts at his disposal, embraces it eagerly, and becomes
himself the first promoter of the Heart of Jesus in the
bosom of his flock. Then all becomes ordered and
harmonized, and individual energies group themselves
around their natural centre and obey its impulse.
The love of the Heart of Jesus, which is the soul of
every religious community, moves the subordinate
members of these different bodies by the impulse
which it gives to the head. Piety, which is to the
Church what the blood is to the human body, distrib-
utes its vital heat through the various organs whose
function it is to communicate movement and direc-
tion. These different influences mutually sustain and
strengthen each other. The zeal of the faithful prof-
fers its services in return for the sympathy and encour-
agement extended by the zeal of the pastor; and the
Heart of the Saviour, finding on either hand fit instru-
ments equally devoted, blesses their joint labors with
profuse blessings.
On the other hand, what spectacle can be sadder
than that of a religious family, whether parish or
community, whose members, despite the economy
suggested by wisdom and enforced by obedience, can-
not exercise their zeal without doing violence to
those whose guidance they would willingly follow;
where the devotion to the Sacred Heart, so cordially
welcomed and approved by the Church, is practically
excluded, if not openly discountenanced; where a
pious practice which tends solely to inspire devoted-
ness to Jesus Christ is disdainfully confounded with
those puerile practices fit only to engender a distaste
for solid piety and dry up the fountains of devotion;
where, in a word, under the pretext of eschewing
mischievous novelties, a withering inertness is made
to supersede the healthy exercises of devotion.
Face to face with such difficulties, zeal should not be
discouraged, though it be saddened; it will not cease
to fulfil its mission within the sphere allowed it; yet it
is vain to hope for the same happy results which
would bless its labors if the interests of our Saviour
were better understood, and duly appreciated. We
must pray that this understanding may be given to
those whose position and sacred character oblige
them to defend these interests. It is a theme for
gratitude that we rarely witness in our day any in-
stances of that prejudice which, in the last century,
disclaimed so bitterly against the devotion to the Sa-
cred Heart. The Holy See, by fulminating its anath-
ema against that theory which, based upon the doc-
trines of the Jansenists, denounced the supreme honor
given to the Heart of Jesus, struck a deadly blow at
the unhallowed spirit which practically opposed the
'spread of this devotion. Let us pray that this spirit
may disappear entirely, and that the Heart of the
Man-God, establishing Its kingdom of charity in the
hearts of all the clergy, may transform them into true
apostles, and by their zeal spread over the earth that
celestial spirit which should vivify it.
Catholic Notes.
"Subscriber," Providence, R. I.— Your letter at
hand and will receive attention. Please send us your
address.
Fifteen thousand persons marched in the pro-
cession of the Catholic Total Abstinence Societies at
Philadelphia on the 4th inst.
The province of Mysore, in India, has 77 Catholic
churches, 51 chapels, 1 Bishop, 24 priests, and 25,000
regular attendants at worship. The Government makes
an annual grant of 300 rupees.
We have not had time this week to read the
magazines, etc., that have been received, among
which are The CatTioUc World, The Manhattan Monthly,
and Feriodosche Blatter.
The Boston Pilot notes with satisfaction the fact
that of forty late graduates of a Boston public school,
thirty-nine were children of Irish Catholics. " This
coming generation of men," it says, '* will change
public opinion in this city somewhat."
The Count and the Countess of Chambord have
just returned from their annual pilgrimage to Maria-
zell, in Austria. Among other members of the im-
perial fimily, the Archduke Francis Charles, father of
the Emperor Francis Joseph, performs annually the
same pious pilgrimage.
One of the most able of the popular Protestant
ministers in New York is Rev. John Hall, from one of
whose sermons we clip the following: "I have known
many people who supposed themselves perfectly com-
petent to deal with Romanism in discussion. They
had read some of our controversial books. They
thought Romanism was a bundle of disjointed mis-
takes and errors, thrown together in the course of
ages. And yet when these men fell into the hands of
some trained and competent Jesuit they found them-
selves at sea, to their discomfiture. I tell you,
brethren, Romanism would never have stood through
these centuries if it had been but a loose bundle of
errors."
Dr. Bellows, an eminent Unitarian minister,
speaking of the observance of Sunday, says : " Before we
hastily and with spiritual self-complacency condemn
the European and Catholic uses of Sunday, we must re-
call the religious uses the Roman Church makes of
the other days of the week. We Protestants magnify
Sunday because, characteristically, we leave all the
other days of the week so free from religious or, let
me rather say, ecclesiastical oversight. Giving the
world up to its own way, to its ambitions and pleas-
ures, for six days, we seek to pull it up with a tight
rein when Sunday comes, and to make amends in one
Ave Maria,
day of concentrated seriousness and self-restraint for
the license allowed lio unbridled secularity all the
rest of the time."
When the late Sultan, Abdul Aziz, and his Grand
Vizier, Mahmud, were persecuting the Catholic Ar-
menians, and exiled their venerable Patriarch, Has-
soun, the atheistic and soi-disant liberal journals of all
nations praised the Ottoman Government to the skies
for its wisdom, prudence and foresight. Divine ven-
geance came at last; Sultan Abdul Aziz is no more.
Deprived of his throne and liberty, he died a miserable
death, w^hether by his own hands or by assassination is
unknown. " Since the days of Samuel the Prophet,"
says Schiller, in his history of the Thirty Years' War,
"nobody who was hostile to the Church has enjoyed
peace in life and in death." Although this was not
said by the great Protestant poet as a compliment,
who can deny the sublime truth contained in the as-
sertion?
Among the sovereigns who died since the ele-
vation of Pius IX to the Pontifical throne were six
Emperors, namely, Nicholas I, of Russia ; Napoleon
III, of France; Maximilian, of Mexico; Ferdinand,
of Austria; Abdul-Mt-jid and Abdul Aziz, of Turkey.
The kings were eighteen in number, namely, Louis
Philippe, of the French; Charles Albert, of Sardinia ;
Frederic William III, of- Prussia; Louis I and Max-
imilian II, of* Bavaria; Leopold I, of Belgium; Fer-
dinand II, of Naples; Christian VIII and Frederic VII,
of Denmark; Ernest Augustus, of Hanover; Otho, of
Greece; William, of Holland; Queen Maria, and Don
Pedro V, of Portugal; Frederic Augustus and John
Nepomucene, of Saxony; Oscar I and Charles XV, of
Sweden; and William, of Wiirtemberg. During the
same period died six Presidents of the United States,
namely, James K. Polk, Zachary Taylor, Millard Fill-
more, Franklin Pierce, Abraham Lincoln, and Andrew
Johnson.
A parish of the Greek Catholic rite has been
lately established in the diocese of Constantine, Africa.
The inhabitants of this new parish are lineal descend-
ants of those ancient Greeks, who left their native
land, invaded by the Turks, to seek liberty of wor-
ship elsewhere. These generous Christians placed
themselves under the protection of the Doge of
Venice, but this prince would not receive them for
fear of compromising himself with the Sultan at Con-
stantinople. The voluntary exiles were by no means
dismayed at this refusal. True to their faith, which
they would maintain intact, they continued their pil-
grimage in search of a home in a Christian country.
They found it at last in the territory of the Genoese
Republic, which Government authorized them to set-
tle in the island of Corsica, at that time subject to
the republic of Genoa. They remain there up to
this day, where they form the Greek parish of Car-
gesa. From fifty to sixty families lately emigrated
thence to the province of Constantine, Africa, where
they received land grants in the territory of Sidi Mer-
ouan, near ancient Carthage, celebrated for its two
Councils, especially that of 416, in which the Pelagian
heresy was condemned. His Eminence the Cardinal
Prefect of the Propaganda has taken a great Interest
in this new Greek colony, and at the request of the
Bisiiop of Constantine he appointed a priest of the
Greek rite as its pastor. The missionary arrived on
Monday in Holy Week, and was received with great
joy by the Catholic Greeks ; his arrival enabled them to
celebrate with due solemnity their imposing ceremo-
nies of Holy Week and Easter and to receive the Pas-
chal Communion.
The Rev. Patrick Toner, pastor of St. Vincent's
Church, Plymouth, Pa., was lately presented with a
handsome gold-headed cane, by his friends in Barclay,
Pa., while on a visit in the vicinity of Towanda and
Barclay. Father Toner was pastor of the churches at
those two places for fourteen years, during which
time he endeared himself by his kindness of heart, his
zeal for religion and his gentlemanly bearing, to such
an extent that his parishioners could scarcely endure
the thought of giving him up when assigned to an-
other field of labor. On the evening named, Father
Toner delivered one of his masterly lectures, on
"Ireland and the Centennial." He has received the
highest encomiums of the press, having been pro-
nounced by an eminent critic as second only to the
renowned Father Burke, and on this occasion he
seems to have been even more than usually eloquent.
A contemporary in criticising the lecture says:
" Father Toner was apparently never more eloquent
than on the present occasion, with his grand subject,
"Ireland and the Centennial." The valor of Irishmen
fighting under the standard of the immortal Washing-
ton in the ' days that tried men's souls,' their loving
care for the then infant Republic, and their constant
fidelity to it, for a hundred years, were well told by
the reverend orator in a language glowing with elo-
quence and historic erudition. The lecture through-
out was a rare intellectual treat, witty, eloquent, pro-
found and patriotic." On the evening of the lecture, a
committee representing the many friends of Father
Toner at Barclay waited upon him, at the residence
of Mr. John Falsey, and presented him with a gold-
headed cane, as above mentioned. The presentation
speech was made by Mr. James Collins. Father
Toner made an appropriate and feeling reply, thank-
ing his generous friends for their handsome gift and
wishing them every tem.poral and spiritual blessing.
A Tyrol paper gives the particulars of a miracu-
lous cure effected by a noveua to Our Lady of the Sa-
cred Heart and the use of the water of Lourdes. The
report was published originally in the patient's own
words, but our limited space permits us only to give
simply a statement of the main facts. Elizabeth
Klingenschmid, a maid-servant to the Baroness von
L , in Trent, had been sickly since 1873, In Octo-
ber, 1875, she had a severe attack of pectoral catarrh
and inflammation of the throat, causing her to lose
almost entirely the use of her voice. She had to take
to her bed in January, 1875, and could not leave it till
Palm Sunday, 1876. Several times, when apparantly
at the point of death, she received the last Sacraments.
All this time she could not sleep except after an in-
jection of morphine. In January, 1876, her sufferings
Ave Maria.
493
seemed to reach their climax, and on the Feast of the
Purification the patient agfain seemed at the point of
death ; she afterwards rallied a little, remaining' how-
ever very weak. One of her companions, a servant of
the house, who had nursed her all the time of her
long illness, suj^gested a novena to Our Lady of the
Sacred Heart. After the close of this devotion the
patient felt much better. On Palm Sunday she felt
again very weak and ill, suffering extreme pains in
her body. She asked to have a linen cloth moistened
with the water of Lourdes, which she applied to her
neck and chest. At this moment her mistress en-
tered the sick-room. The sufferer made some efforts
to speak, and to her great astonishment she found she
could do so in a loud and clear voice. She felt like
leaving her bed, which she did fifteen minutes after-
wards. • She then put on her dress and went to her
mistress' room, remaining out of bed for several hours,
and took a hearty meal; her appetite has since been
excellent. She continued to improve daily, could stay
up all day, enjoyed good sleep, and was soon able to re-
sume the easier part of her household duties. Her
physician, a man of the first rank in his profession, as-
cribes, without any hesitation, this cure to a miracle.
Obituary.
Departed this life, at St. Louis, Mo., on Sunday,
June 25th, Mrs. Margaret Farley, a life-subscriber
to the Ave Maria — one of the first, and one who ever
took a kindly interest in its welfare. After an illness
of six months she was blessed with a most edifying
death.
You have left ue, darling mother,
For a happy home, we know ;
But ohl our home is lone without you.
And our hearts are filled with woe.
What is all this world without you?
Naught but darkness, fraught with pain.
Yet we cannot, dearest mother,
Call you, wish you back again.
Long we've grieved to see, lov'd mother,
God had marked you for His own.
And with brave, heroic patience,
. You've the cross of suflering borne.
Yes, the cross was here your portion,
But your crown is won at last,
And your poor, heart-broken lone ones
Know your pams and cares are past.
Do not grieve, then, dearest father.
That our loved one is at rest;
Soon she'll welcome us forever
To her home among the blest. Mamie.
Died, near Emmittsburg, Palo Alto Co., Iowa,
at 8 p. m., July 4th, after a most painful illness, Mary
Louisa Elder Dishart. She died as she lived, be-
loved by all, and a model of patience and resignation
to the Divine will. Although her sufferings were al-
most unbearable, not one complaint escaped her lips;
she was continually praying, and responded to the
litanies and prayers for the departing until almost the
lafl; moment. Her husband and children request the
prayers of the numerous clergy and religious with
whom the deceased was acquainted, also the prayers
of the Associates of the Sacred Heart, the Living Ro-
sary, the Apostleship of Prayer, the Holy Scapular,
and Bona Mors, of which societies she was a devout
member. She was 68 years, 10 months and 17 days
old at the time of her death.
Requiescant in pace.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report foe the Week Ending July 15th.
Letters received, 105; New members admitted, 265;
Applications for prayers have been made as follows:
Health for 67 persons and 2 families; Change of life
for 24: persons and 3 families; Return to religious du-
ties for 6 persons ; Conversion to the faith for 39 persons
and 7 families; Perseverance for 6, and a happy death
for 5 persons; Special graces for 5 priests and 7 relig-
ious; Temporal favors for 36 persons, 6 families, 4
communities, 3 congregations, and 2 schools; Spir-
itual favors for 43 persons, 5 families, 4 communities,
and four congregations. Among the specified inten-
tions are: The suffering souls in purgatory from a
certain parish; A community of Sisters of the Good
Shepherd and the penitents in their charge; The suc-
cess of 2 retreats; Perseverance for some converts in
great danger of losing their faith; Health and conver-
sion of a Protestant gentleman, who has met with a
serious accident threatening the loss of his eyesight;
Protection for several men employed in dangerous
avocations; Prayers are requested for those who lost
their lives in the flood at Rockdale, near Dubuque,
Iowa, on the 4th of July— a number of Catholics being
among the victims; The recovery of some just debts;
Several Protestants receiving religious instruction;
A family of Catholic children having a Protestant
stepmother; An old lady who lives a great distance
from church, that she may obtain grace to receive
the last Sacraments; The aversion of a threatened
scandal; A special grace for some persons in immi-
nent danger.
FAVORS obtained.
Among the numerous reports relating favors, we
select the following: A worthy missionary writes:
"Yesterday 1 saw a girl of ten years of age who
a few weeks ago was given up by the physicians
as incurable, but is now, after the use of the blessed
water, stronger and healthier than for years before."
. ..." A little child, two years old, was severely scalded
last Saturday at noon. His cries of agony could be
heard over the whole street. I applied the water of
Lourdes and said the prayer. The little creature was
relieved in a wonderful manner, the pain leaving him
at once, and, what was even more extraordinary, the
deep scars left by the wound, which extended over
mouth, neck and breast, healing up in a few hours—
a result no medical aid could have achieved in the
time. By evening the child, for whose death we
feared at noon, was playing with a superabundance of
baby glee which made one think our dear Lady's
touch is still on him. The parents, who are good and
pious converts, have promised to dedicate him to her
service, begging from her the gift of a religious voca-
tion." .... "Please return thanks to Almighty God
and to His Blessed Mother for the cure of my little
494
Ave Maria.
girl. She had scrofula for three years, but by the tlse
of the water you sent she has been entirely cured."
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: Mb. Thomas
O'Brien, who died last January, in Cadyville, N. Y.
Mrs. Susan Stanley, of Oil City, Pa. Mr. David R.
Kennedy, who departed this life on the 29th of Feb-
ruary. Mr. Burns, whose death occurred at
Richwood, Wis., on the 7th inst. Mrs. Susan Jen-
nings, of Watertown, Minn., who departed this life on
the 3rd of June, fortified by the Sacraments of the
Church. Mrs. Mary Maloney, of Elgin, 111., who
breathed her last on the 5th of July, after two long
years of suffering, with perfect reconciliation to the
will of God. Also the following, who have been en-
rolled among the deceased members: Mr. Francis
La Fleur, Mrs. Pelagia La Fleur, David J. Falls,
Francis Falls, David W. Falls, Isabella Falls,
Mary Falls, Abigail Falls, Anne Falls, Peter
Falls, Terence McDonald, Eleanor McDonald.
Also for several other deceased persons whose names
have not been given.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Director.
ithilbren's Department
The Child-Martyrs of Japan.
[Translated from the French by R. V. R.]
We know that in all ages of the Church there
have been martyrs for the faith, from the Holy
Innocents who first of all shed their blood and
laid down their lives for our Lord Jesus Christ,
to those holy men who, as it were but yesterday,
were put to death for the faith in Corea, Annam,
and still other lands in the far East. The names
of many holy Bishops and priests are recorded in
these later annals, and their sufferings and heroic
constancy detailed ; a few names of more obscure
but not less faithful and courageous martyrs and
confessors are also preserved, but the larger part
of this noble host of witnesses for the truth were
individually known only to their Lord and Sa-
viour, who has long ago crowned each in heaven.
Still less were the names of children and the
sufferings which— upheld by the same divine
grace— they endured for the religion in which
they were baptized, preserved, generally speaking.
But in some places there were exceptions to this
rule, and this was especially the case in the great
kingdom of Japan. We know that to this culti-
vated and intellectual people the Catholic faith
was preached by the great St. Francis Xavier in
the sixteenth century, and though every effort was
made by the civil authorities to extinguish the
faith when they found it was gaining ground with
the mass of the people, it has never been wholly
eradicated. Without priest or Sacraments, except
Baptism administered by lay-persons, the teach-
ings of the Church have been handed down from
parent to child through long periods of time.
When, at rare intervals, Catholic missionaries, at
the risk of their lives, have visited this admirable
band of true disciples, they have always found
Christians to receive and welcome them with
transports of joy— happy, after waiting, it might
be from childhood to old age, to partake at last of
the grace of those other Sacraments which they
understood and believed, but of which they had
no practical experience. Imagine what it must
have been to be present at Mass for the first time,
after having longed for this favor for a lifetime;
and making a First Communion after a prepara-
tion of twenty, forty, sixty years perhaps !
It is not of these grown up people, however,
that we are going to speak. We mean to tell the
children, who are readers of this department of
the Ave Maria, of other children, boys and girls
like themselves, who lived and died for their
faith among this generous number of Catholic
Christians. A book was lately published in
France giving authentic accounts of various per-
secutions of the Christians in Japan, and from
this is collected the facts to be given in this series
of papers.
It must be remembered that there were long in-
tervals, when the Christians were allowed to live in
comparative peace ; but no sooner was it known to
the authorities that missionaries from Europe had
effected an entrance into the kingdom, and were
again preaching the faith and administering the
Sacraments, than persecutions recommenced, and
were carried on with barbarous ferocity; women
and children, so far from being spared for their
weakness, were often especially selected to suffer,
in the hope that this very weakness would cause
them to renounce their religion. How truly,
through grace, " strength may be made perfect in
weakness," these little children give convincing
proof.
Now, after this preface, too grave perhaps for
children to care for, but needful if they wish to
understand clearly what follows, we will go on to
the more simply expressed records of the " Child-
Martyrs of Japan," taking them In the order they
are given in the French original.
CHAPTER I.
FIRMNESS OP SEVERAL YOUNG CHILDREN.
At Meaco, a principal city of Japan, several
children, learning that their parents were prepar-
ing for martyrdom, were desirous to be also placed
on the lists of the condemned. One youth, named
Ave Maria.
495
Thomas, about sixteen years old, was at a Catholic
school, three days' journey from the city. A letter
from his father told him that an edict against the
Christians was published, and as he himself was
resolved to die for Jesus Christ he had made his
will, leaving all his possessions to his son, and in-
forming the lad of a certain casket in which a
large sum of money was stored away. Thomas,
full of joy, hastened to Meaco, not to take posses-
sion of his fortune, but to share, as he hoped, in
the honors of martyrdom. He reproached his
father for wishing to make him the heritor of
mere earthly goods, and for supposing he would
be satisfied to be excluded from sharing in the
far preferable lot of those who sought the certain
goods of the Kingdom of Heaven, through mar-
tyrdom. He declared his purpose to follow his
father to death. He urged that in their country
a child was considered disgraced who outlived
his father when the latter was executed by law;
much more, he declared, in the sight of God and
man, might a son be reproached for cowardice if
he did not go side by side, to death, with a father
whom he so tenderly loved and who so willingly
laid down his own life for the Christian faith.
Father and son, it is supposed, were among the
number of twenty-six Christians who were mar-
tyred at the same time, of whom we proceed to
speak — that is, of the children among them.
The Christians selected for death were gathered
at Nagasaki, another considerable city of the king-
dom. One of the sons of a family of high rank at
this place (Christians) heard that fifty crosses were
erected, on which to crucify those who would not
renounce the faith. He asked a Jesuit Father if
this was true.
"So it is said, my little friend," responded the
priest; and then in his turn questioned: "what
will you say, my child, if asked if you are a Chris-
tian?"
" I'll say ' Yes, I am ! ' " answered the boy.
"But," said the Father, "suppose, when they
hear that, they put you on one of the crosses, and
presently come to kill you, what will you do?"
" Oh, I would get ready for death as fast as I
could," said the boy.
" And how would you proceed to do this ? " was
the next question.
" So," said the little fellow, stretching out his
arms, as if already on the cross, and speaking with
a resolution evidently real ; " and I would cry out
as long as I could speak, 'Jesus, mercy! Jesus,
mercy ! Jesus, be merciful to me ! ' "
The good priest turned away in tears from a
representation he felt would soon be a reality.
Another child, between eleven and twelve years
old, signalized himself in a still more marked
manner. He had been baptized by the religious
of the Order of St. Francis, and resided in their
dwelling. When these Fathers were apprehended
by the oflScers of justice, little Lewis, seeing
that his name was not put upon the list, began
to cry so vehemently that, anxious as these men
were to spare such a mere child, they were com-
pelled by his importunity to give his name a place
also, as one of the condemned inmates of the
house. Nor was this only a childish fancy. When
the band was brought before Fazambure, the gov-
ernor of the city, whose oflScial duty it was to pro-
nounce sentence on the martyrs, even he was
touched with pity for the brave little lad, and call-
ing him up to his knee, said :
" Your life, my little man, is still in your own
hands; if you will be one of my pages I will de-
liver you."
Lewis answered: " I don't want to do what I
please with myself; I will do as Father Baptiste
thinks best for me; anyhow, I won't be anything
but a Christian."
The governor told him this could not be — he
must renounce the faith.
" Then," responded the boy, " I do not care to
live, if that is the condition; because I would lose
thus a life of happiness, to last forever, and only
get in exchange a miserable life on earth, to last
for only a few days or years."
Fazambure was full of wonder at the courage
and steadfastness of the child, and gave up the at-
tempt to save his life.
When the twenty-six martyrs had arrived at the
place of their martyrdom, outside the city, a mul-
titude of people were collected at the place to wit-
ness the crucifixion. The governor, fearing some
disorder, and perhaps a rescue of the martyrs, or-
dered these people to return to the city, and threat-
ened them with severe penalties if they staid near
the place. The martyrs were therefore left almost
alone with the executioners, though it appears a
few exceptions, of the nearest relatives, were made.
Left thus in the immediate expectation of torture
and death. Father Pierre-Baptiste, who was the
ecclesiastic of the highest rank there, intoned the
canticle Benedictus Dominus Beus Israel, the strain
being taken up by others of the martyrs, while
others still were lost in profound contemplation
and remained silent. All the prisoners showed
such perfect content that it would have been sup-
posed they were on their way to a joyous festival
rather than to torments and death. The children
especially exhibited the happiest cheerfulness.
Among the crosses erected ready for the mar-
tyrs were three much less than the rest. Lewis,
as soon as the elevation was reached, asked which
of these was his, and on its being pointed out he
ran to embrace it with so much eagerness that the
idolaters about were filled with amazement; they
could not comprehend what possible attraction a
shameful and cruel death could have, for children
above all.
Among the martyrs was a young man nine-
teen years of age, named John Soan, who had
been baptized while quite young, and brought up
a Christian. He had been admitted as a novice
by the Jesuits, and was employed in teaching,
though it is not known if he had become a semi-
narian. He was a very handsome youth, and
even more beautiful in mind, heart, and soul than
he was physically; noble, sincere, generous and
courageous, he seemed to have been destined to
be an illustrious martyr. When the officers en-
tered the residence of the Jesuits, where he was,
he could easily have made his escape; but, with-
out concerning himself about his personal danger,
he only thought of securing the articles for altar
use in the sacristy, of which he had charge. He
greatly distinguished himself by his heroic faith
and fervor during his martyrdom. He too, like
little Lewis, hastened to his cross, clasping it a
long time in his arms, to the wonder of the specta-
tors. Lifting his head at last, he saw, close by, one
whom he knew to be a Christian. He requested
this man to salute the Jesuit Fathers at Meaco for
him, in particular Father Marcian, whose com-
panion he had been for several years. " Tell
496
Ave Maria.
him," said John, " that at last, through the mercy
of God, and through his holy instructions, I be-
hold myself on the point of gaining the crown of
a martyr, and of going speedily to heaven." ^
The executioners coming near to attach him to
his cross, he perceived his father, who had drawn
near to bid him farewell. Rising above all the
tenderness of nature, John said, with a radiant
countenance: "Adieu, my dear father; bethink
you always and ever to prefer the eternal salvation
of your soul to all worldly wealth or advantage,
and think nothing worth possessing but God."
The father responded: "Well and wisely do
you speak, my son ; and as you say so will I do ;
and you also, John, my dear son, show now your
courage, and willingly lay down for God the life
He gave you. Your mother and myself are ready
to die the same death you do."
John became if possible still more heroic and
joyous; he gave his rosary to his father, as the
last aod most precious object he had.
It does not seem it was usual in this country
to nail the suff«i-ers on the cross: they were at-
tached to it by tight ligatures, and after hanging
a longer or a shorter time, and enduring much
pain from the ropes or chains that bound them,
they were dispatched by the stroke of a sword or
thrust of a lance. While hanging thus on his
cross, John, disregarding his own tortures, with-
out ceasing encouraged to endurance those suffer-
ing by him, of whom little Lewis was one of the
nearest.
Father Rodriguez, exhorting him to be gener-
ous in the offering of his sufferings to Jesus
Christ, John replied: "Fear not for me, dear
Father: I confidently hope, through the grace of
God, to be faithful, and fulfil the sacrifice of my
whole life, which I engaged to make when I was
baptized."
Nor was he deceived in his hope; his resolution
never failed for one moment, and he died pro-
nouncing the holy Names of Jesus and Mary
with his last breath.
Little Lewis was the next to die. He had been
baptized only a few months before, and was not
quite twelve years old. The constancy with which
he endured to the end the most painful torture
touched the pagans themselves with compassion,
and made evident to them the marvellous power
of the grace of Jesus Christ in the feeble body and
timid soul of a child full of faith.
But of all the child-martyrs who on this occa-
sion persevered through temptations and tortures
to the end, a boy of thirteen years old, named An-
tony, was the most remarkable. He was a com-
panion of Lewis, and both could easily have
saved themselves when the guards entered the
convent where they lived, the pagans being by no
means desirous to apprehend the children. Both
^ of the lads, however, were eager to go with the
Rev. Fathers, to death even, rather than risk the
loss of their faith. The people gazed in wonder
at the two little fellows marching intrepidly with
the rest, their hands bound behind them.
Their fervor increased more and more as they
drew near the place of martyrdom. Near Na-
gasaki, the father and mother of Antony came to
meet him. These poor people were Christians
themselves, and fully able to understand the
blessedness of the lot to which their young son
was called ; but, overcome by natural tenderness,
they tried to persuade him to save himself by
pretending to deny his religion; they told hiniit
was too great a misery for them to see him suffer
such a lingering agony— that he was so young, so
bright, so buovant, it was too soon for him to die
—that he was" too delicate to endure the pains of
crucifixion— that he could do much good by
living yet awhile, and, if he desired to die a mar-
tyr, the opportunity would never be wanting; he
could find one easily any time. They told him
that after having served God some years more
he could go to heaven with a great increase of
merit and glory. To all this reasoning they added
tears and entreaties that he would not hasten their
death by the grief which his would cause them.
Poor boy! he felt himself assailed by Satan on
his weakest side— his devoted affection for his
mother. But grace from our Lord was not want-
ing either; enlightened by divine light, and
strengthened by heavenly fortitude, he overcame
all human feelings and made a noble response.
"I am so young, you say, a mere child, and but
a feeble child also. It is true— I am only what
you say, yet I hope, child as I am, God will make
me triumphant until death— that I shall be victor
in this combat. What! would j^ou persuade me
to expose our holy faith to the derision of idola-
ters? Would you have me preserve my earthly
life at the risk of losing the better life, in eternity,
that God has prepared for me? I beseech you
tempt me no more with your tears and entreaties,
for I am resolved, as I have declared to you, to
die for Jesus Christ."
The governor, Fazambure, who had been a wit-
ness of the efforts of Antony's parents to overcome
his constancy, now drew near, and represented to
the boy the obligation of children to provide for
the necessities of their -parents; he pointed out
that in this case the father and mother had in-
creased claim, because they were poor and looked
to him as the hope of their old age. He thought
to add to the temptation by promising Antony, if
he would submit to the edict of the emperor, that he
would himself adopt him and provide liberally
for all his family.
"What!" responded the lad, once more, "do
you think then I am so mean-hearted as to prefer
all the riches of the world, vain and perishable as
they are, to the everlasting and solid goods prom-
ised to us in eternity? But see, I would accept
your offers on one condition: that, with me, let
the Christian Fathers live also." He made this
offer probably to satisfy his parents, knowing it
would be refused, as it instantly was.
" And I," he returned, " refuse to live without
them ; we will all go to heaven together, where
we will have all possible happiness to the utmost
desire of each of us. "
He then took leave of his parents, entreating
them to be steadfast in the faith, and promising
to pray for them. Being fastened to his cross, he
requested Father Pierre Baptiste, who was on a
i cross beside him, to entone with him the psalm
I '' Laudate pueri, Dominumy The priest, who was
} probably unconscious, not responding, the lad
j commenced it by himself, with an angelic voice,
I and continued it till a lance-thrust in his side
silenced it forever on earth, to be heard where
; '■'■ Excelsus super omnes gentes Dominus., et super
I C(£,los gloria ejus.''''
\ [to be continued.]
AYE MARIA.
WeNCEFORTH all GENEr\A.TION3 SHALL CALL MR BlESSED.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., AUGUST 5, 1876.
No. 32.
Our Lady of the Angels.
In the middle of the fourth century, some pil-
grims from Palestine built by the road side, in
the plain of Assisi, a poor chapel which was
known by the name of St. Mary of Josaphat.
Legends say that this humble chapel was dear to
the Mother of God. A heavenly light often shone
there by night, and the angels were often heard
singing their sweet songs in the midst of that su-
pernatural brightness. The chapel soon came to
be called Our Lady of the Angels, and later it was
known as the Portmncula, either on account of its
small size or because the Benedictine Fathers had
some little portions of ground lying near it. It
was here that Francis, the apostle and herald of
poverty, took shelter with his first disciples; here
his little family grew up under the loving eye of
the Queen of Heaven ; here he passed days and
nights in prayer and in tears, and of all the graces
which he received in this holy place the most
precious undoubtedly was the indulgence whose
history we give.
One night, in the month of October, 1221, Fran-
cis, prostrate in his cell, was praying for the con-
version of sinners, whose wretched state filled him
with sadness, when an angel came and summoned
him to tlie cliurch. Francis arose joyfully and
went as directed. A glorious sight there met his
eyes. Jesus was standing on the altar, His most
holy Mother was at His right hand, and they were
surrounded by a multitude of heavenly spirits.
The poor man of Assisi fell on his knees, and,
bowing to the earth, adored the Son of God.
While he was worshipping, our Saviour said to
him: "Francis, you and your brethren have a
great zeal for souls; you have been placed as a
torch in the world, therefore ask what you will for
the good of the nations and for the glory of My
Name."
Francis was struck with wonder. What should
he ask ? Blessings for his Order, and promises for
its future? No; he cares for one thing only —
sinners are perishing — let sinners be saved! So
he prayed and said : " My most Holy Lord, I, al-
though but a miserable sinner, pray Thee of Thy
goodness to grant to men, that all who shall visit
this church after making their confession to a
priest, may gain a plenary indulgence for all their
sins ; and I beg the Blessed Virgin, Thy Mother,
and the advocate of the human race, to intercede
for me that this favor may be bestowed upon me."
Mary looked up ; she turned towards her beloved
Son, and a mystery of love was enacted in that
place, which had become a paradise. Jesus said
to Francis : " You ask a great thing, but you shall
receive yet greater favors; your prayer is heard.
I will only that this indulgence should be ratified
by him to whom I have given the power of bind-
ing and loosing."
On the morrow, Francis, accompanied by Brother
Masse of Marignan, set off for Perugia, where
Pope Honorius III was then abiding. Being ad-
mitted into the presence of the Sovereign Pontiff,
he said to him, with great simplicity: "Holy
Father, some years ago I repaired a little church
in your dominions: I beg you to grant to it a free
indulgence without the obligation of offering an
alms." The Pope represented to him that any one
who would gain an indulgence ought to merit it,
especially by works of charity, and then asked :
"For how many years do you ask this indul-
gence?" "May it please your Holiness," said
Francis, " to give me souls rather than years."
"And how would you have souls?" rejoined the
Pope. " I wish," replied Francis, " that, with the
permission of your Holiness, those who shall enter
the Church of St. Mary of the Angels, with con-
trite hearts, after confession and Communion, may
receive perfect remission of their sins in this world
and the next." The Pope then said, " Francis, the
thing you ask is great, and quite contrary to cus-
498
Ave Maria.
torn." " Holy Father," answered Francis, " I ask
it, not in my own name, but in the Name of Jesus,
who has sent me." A heavenly inspiration visited
the Pope, and he repeated thrice, " Let it be done
according to your desire." The cardinals who
were present having observed that an indulgence
so precious might interfere with that granted to
the Holy Land and the tomb of the Apostles, he said,
"The concession is made, let us only modify it";
and recalling Francis he added : " This indulgence
is perpetual, but only for one day in each year."
Francis bowed his head respectfully and re-
turned to the Chapel of the Portiuncula, where he
continued his apostolic and mortified life, waiting
till it should please God to fix in some special
manner the day for the Indulgence just obtained.
Two years passed. Francis was again praying
in his cell during one of the long winter nights.
The devil suggested to him that he should not
watch so much, for that repose was absolutely
necessary at his age. Perceiving the malice of
the evil one, Francis at once arose and went out
into the for^est, rolled himself in the snow, and
tore his flesh with the thorns and briars, saying,
"It is far better to suffer this pain with Jesus
Christ than to follow the counsels of an enemy
who would deceive me." And now a great light
surrounded him, and showed him a fresh wonder,
the thorn-bushes into which he had thrown him-
self had become rose-trees, and, spite of the cold
of the season, those rose-trees (which are still to
be seen green and thornless) were covered with
white and red flowers. Angelic voices said to
him: "Francis, hasten to the church; Jesus
Christ and His holy Mother are waiting for you
there?" And immediately his habit became
white as snow; he gathered twelve white and
twelve red roses, and as he went to the church
the path seemed to him to be richly adorned.
He fell on his knees before our Saviour, and
humbly prayed : " Most Holy Lord of heaven and
earth! Saviour of the human race! deign, in Thy
great merc}^ to fix the day of the Indulgence
Thou hast granted for this holy place." Our Lord
answered that it was to be from the evening of the
day in which the Apostle St. Peter was delivered
from his chains, to the following evening. The
Pope confirmed the Indulgence, and ordered it to be
solemnly published.
♦ This Indulgence has since been extended to all- the
Churches of the Franciscans, and conceded to some few
others by special privilege; among the latter in this coun-
try are the Church of the Finding of the Holy Cross, Santa
Cruz, Cal., and a facsimile Chapel of the Portiuncula at
Notre Dame, Ind., whither many pilgrims annually resort
to gain this precious Indulgence. In order to give the
working class an opportunity, the Franciscan Fathers have
had it transferred to the Sunday following the 2d of August.
The Spirit Voice.
A LEGEND.
Where with the blue Genevan lake the turbid Rhone's
swift flood
Is mingled, centuries ago a quaint old convent stood,
(Old, even in those bygone times — faith's vanished
happy days,)
Where saintly men divided life 'twixt silent toil and
praise ;
Through all the cloister's stone-paved ways, and in
the chapel dim,
Was never heard a human voice except in Mass or
hymn;
But with the setting sun each day — to austere pen-
ance given —
In fervent outburst from each heart the ^^ Salve" rose
to Heaven,
And, upborne by the chant divine, the brethren in the
choir.
With every day to loftier heights of sanctity aspire.
One listener in the church below was ever kneeling
found —
Her crucifix clasped to her breast— her eyes bent on
the ground;
She never turned one wistful look where, through
the latticed screen,
The cloaked and hooded monks, each in his oaken
stall, were seen;
She might not know, of all the throng that filled the
sacred place,
Which dusky cowl hid forever her only son's calm
face;
But in the mighty burst of song her keenly listen-
ing ear
The silver ring of one rich voice alone could ever
hear.
Then to her solitary home contentedly she sped.
Upraised above all selfish grief— her lone heart com-
forted.
Summer and winter came and went, again, and yet
again.
Till came an eve when for that voice she listened all in
vain ;
And as the twilight shadows crept from arch to arch
around.
From belfry tower the passing bell tolled slow, with
awful sound;
And prone before our Lady's shrine the stricken mother
fell,
To her, who knew earth's bitterest grief, her agony to
tell:
" Alone ! Alone !— of all I had, not one last vestige left!
Even of that echo of his voice forever now bereft !
Look down— 0 Mother sorrowful — a sorrowing mother
see!
None— none but thou, canst know my grief or help or
comfort me."
0 marvellous power of humble prayer!— more than
they dare to seek.
Ave Mari^i.
409
Our (gentle Lord will give unasked to simple souls and
meek;
And she who 'neath the Cross had felt a mother's
deepest woe,
The tenderest way to comfort it alone could truly
know.
Once more the sunset hour came, and, drawn by hid-
den grace,
The weeping mother knelt to pray in her accustomed
place; —
Anon, the brethren in the choir "Salve^^ en tone again,
O, wondrous joy! — her dead son's voice joins clearly
in the strain;
His stall is empty, yet is heard that voice which never.
more
She thought would greet her raptured ears till life and
time were o'er!
And through the supplicating notes exulting cadence
rang.
As if a bless<5d soul in heaven its ecstasy outsang;
She knew it only sang for her — an exile— waiting still,
Till all of her appointed task on earth she should ful-
fil;
Eve after eve she heard it yet, then to her lonely home
Went praising God with grateful soul, till her last hour
was come.
Ah, who can tell what grace divine that voice within
her wrought?
Or who may know what perfect joy, to that last hour
it brought?
When, after fourscore weary years, beneath the clois-
ter's shade,
With salntliest peace upon the face the hoary head
was laid.
Nov. 16th, 1875. R. V. R.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER IV.— (Continued.)
Lady Margaret thought to comfort her by ask-
ing for details of Dan's death. She told the story
as well as she could for the sobs that shook her;
how he had been the first to see the boat, how he
bad summoned the neighbors to go with him to
rescue it, how they had gone down to the shore,
but, seeing the fury of the sea, declared that no boat
could live in it, and refused to put out; then Dan
commended his soul to God and His Blessed
Mother, and made the Sign of the Cross, and put
off by himself. The brave man's sacrifice was
worthy of the crown, and God accepted it. A
great wave washed him on shore; he might have
been saved, they thought, but for the violence with
which it flung him against the rocks; the blow
caused some grave internal injury, and they saw
at once that life was ebbing fast away. His first
words on coming to his senses were for the priest.
"I'm goin fast, Molly dear; send for Father
Pat. Make haste, for the love o' God ! "
She knew as by insjiiration that no haste could
bring Father Pat in time; Dan had apparently, in
the one ab.sorbing thought of this supreme mo-
ment, forgotten the English priest close by; but
his wife remembered, and sent as we kqow.
" He was a noble fellow! his death was worthy
of him, and he of it," said Lady Margaret, much
affected by the sublime tale of self-sacrifice so
simply told.
" He was as innocent as the babe unborn, and
he never gave me a day's throuble since we were
married," sobbed Molly. "I'll not be long after
him now, plase God! I know he'll be waitin' for
me up there ; it can hardly be heaven complate for
him without his poor Molly: But the will o' God
be done ! The blessed and holy will o' God be
done!"
" Yes ; say that with all your heart, my child ;
it is heaven already begun for us on earth when
we love the blessed will of God," said Mr. Ring-
wood; and then he added, in a tone of tender
compassion: "the waiting may seem long, but it
will soon come to an end, and then you will be
united again, and there will be no more tears, no
more partings. That is already all over for Dan ;
he is with God, where he can never suffer any
more ; where neither sorrow nor pain can come
near him."
" No ; no more throuble ; no more rint to pay ! "
murmured the widow, gently gazing through her
tears at the placid face on the pillow; "glory be
to God ! my darlint is beyond it all now! "
There was something in the words that went
through Lady Margaret like a sting. Good God!
that a human soul should have to draw such com-
fort as this from the death of the being loved
most on earth! No more rent to pay! She felt
for a moment as if she had been guilty of some
horrible cruelty to the dead man — as if she had
been an accomplice in his death.
Colonel Blake was still lingering outside, listen-
ing to all the friends and relatives of the deceased,
who, after telling him the story of the disaster over
and over again, began to discuss the position of
the widow and the proceeds of the Torry estate.
"There's the pig; there's not a more thrivin'
baste on the counthry-side than poor Dan's pig;
he'll pay the rint for Molly, and lave her a trifle
over, maybe."
There was something grimly comical and yet
intensely pathetic in these reflections of the mourn-
ers, the Colonel thought, though he was less af-
fected by the pathos than his wife had been when
the same thought was suggested by the widow; it
was pitiable, no doubt, that any life endowed with
a human soul and all its large and precious capa-
bilities of joy and sorrow, of effort and achieve.
500
Ave Maria.
ment, should be narrowed to the one sordid aim of
paying the rent; still, rents must be paid, since
landlords must live, and this particular landlord
was conscious of having always dealt mercifully
with his people, though he could not alter the con-
ditions of their existence. Colonel Blake would
have honestly repudiated the idea that landlords
were the final cause of peasants, if it had been so
presented to him, but in his secret soul he held a
theory not very far removed from some such prin-
ciple.
" Mrs. Torry shall have no need to trouble her-
self about the rent this year, nor about anything
else that I can save her," he said; " and now what
about the funeral ? Foor Dan must have a decent
one. That is my concern ; he has died a brave
death, and I wish every respect to be shown him.
Mr. Kingwood would perform the service, I know,
willingly; but perhaps Mrs. Torry and all of you
would rather have Father Pat over for it ? You,
MoUoy, will settle about all that, and come up by-
and-by and let me know."
"Oh, sorra call to axe her, yer honor," said
Molloy ; " I'll be bound she'd rather have Father
Pat ; not but the sthrange priest is a kind-spoken
gintleman, God bless him, and I daresay 'ud say
as sweet a Mass over poor Dan as iver a poor
sowl tasted, but there's nobody like one's own, yer
honor."
" Very well ; then I will see that a messenger is
sent to him at once. Or, stay : go up to The Towers
yourself and ask for a horse, and ride off to Bally-
rock and tell Father Pat what has happened ; he
will come over at once, I make no doubt, and then
he can settle everything about the funeral."
The crowd began to express their approval of
the landlord's conduct by sundry benedictions on
him and his, when they were cut short by the ap-
pearance of Lady Margaret in the doorway. Fate
would have it that the pig, who had been peace-
ably reposing in his corner up to the present,
came snorting out at the same moment, running
so rudely up against her as almost to knock her
down. She drew up her skirts and stepped aside
with a little cry of alarm and disgust.
"Never mind him, acushla! He's as mild as
milk, the crature, on'y he's fretted and bothered
wid' all the noise; there's more sinse in them
bastes than ye'd think, me lady!" said an old
crone, who proceeded to address the pig in the
vernacular, and drive him out of her ladyship's
way.
" He should not be let in at all," said Lady Mar-
garet, with asperity. "I have spoken again and
again about that dreadful custom you all have of
keeping the pig indoors; how can your places be
clean while you do it! "
" Sure, me lady, and it 'ud niver do to turn the
crature out! Isn't the pig and the priest the
best frends we have ? one pays the rent for us, and
th' other saves our sowls."
" I hope you like the partnership," Lady Mar-
garet seemed to say by a look at Mr. Kingwood ;
but he did not understand it; he was too much
under the spell of the diviner part of these simple
though slovenly natures to feel in a mood to crit-
icize their domestic ways.
Colonel Blake handed his wife into the car-
riage, and he and Mr. Kingwood walked home
together.
The funeral took place on Friday. Mr. King-
wood stayed over it, and said Mass once more in
the roadside chapel. The widow's thankfulness
for this grace was beautiful. "Two Masses for
my poor Dan the day of his burial! Sure and
it's enough to make all the dures o' Heaven fly
open to receave him!" was her almost exultant
exclamation on hearing that the strange priest
was going to offer the Holy Sacrifice for Dan be-
fore Father Pat arrived.
The same feeling in a lesser degree was mani-
fested at The Towers ; the servants rejoiced with
Molly, and loudly expressed their congratulations
at the blessed chance which secured this grace for
their friend Dan. Some echoes of this satisfaction
in the household reached Lady Margaret through
Burke and Coyle, and she commented on it in her
own fashion to Wells, whose Protestant soul gave
forth a sympathetic response.
"Indeed, my lady, it would just make your
blood run cold down your back if you was to 'ear
'em a-singing 'ims, so to speak, for joy along of
this Mass as Mr. Kingwood is to say for the poor
fellow, as never 'urt a mouse in 'is life, and as is
now a-burning and a-grilling in Purgatory! It's
quite painful to a body with a feeling 'eart to 'ear
'em saying such things! "
"It is very dreadful," sighed Lady Margaret;
" and the strangest part of it is that the people
themselves find comfort in the idea! Mrs. Torry
was literally crying for joy this morning when
she told me that there were to be two Masses in-
stead of one for her husband— adding that he
was sure to be safe in Purgatory anyhow. Poor
creature, it was most affecting, at the same time
that it was so shocking, to hear her blessing God
for the wonderful mercy ! "
"Lord ha' mussy on us, my lady! It gives one
the shivers to 'ear o' such 'orrible superstition!"
said Wells, devoutly ; " we're blest not to be born
blind, like them poor folks; and yet they aint bad
at 'eart; it's the priests lead 'em all astray."
Lady Margaret wondered inwardly what it was
that led the priests astray, into such a revolting
Ave Maria.
501
doctrine— such priests as this Oxford scholar, at
least; there was no point in the whole range of
Catholic theology that was so repugnant to her
reason and her reverential idea in God's Father-
hood as this one of Purgatory.
Mr, Ringwood, meantime, gathered up all these
things into his memory and pondered them in his
heart. It was with the warmest feelings of sym-
patliy and regret that he took leave of Connemara,
of his hospitable friends at The Towers, and those
humbler ones whom he had learned to respect and
love during their short intercourse. He had come
purporting to do them some good, and he went .
away feeling that they had been the teachers and
he the disciple. They had taught him a great
lesson, or rather they had helped him wonderfully
to realize an old one; their lives had revealed to
him the marvellous power of faith to sweeten the
bitterest human lot; he had always believed in
this divine and salutary power, but here in this
out-of-the-way, contemned corner of the British
Empire he had seen and touched it; he had be-
held the sting taken out of death, and poverty, and
all that this world considers misery. These sim-
ple peasants of the wild West, so unlearned in the
wisdom of this world, so disloyal to the god Com-
fort, so ignorant and uncivilized according to the
current ideas of the civilizers, had proved to him
that they were practically the grandest philosophers
on earth; life to them was not only theoretically
but really a passage, a * passing over,' whose petty
interests and possessions were " as shadows flitting
on the floor " ; while Death was the happy bourne
of their desires ; Death, which is a Miserere to the
children of this world, was to them a jubilant Te
Deum, the true coming home, a day of joy and de-
liverance. This is what the polished English gen-
tleman learned at Barrymore from those small,
insignificant lives, who, forgotten of men, told
their days silently under the shadow of God's
presence,
CHAPTER V.
Spring hurried in at the beginning of April. The
meadows and the hillsides were spread with eme-
rald carpets, and violets and kingcups and anem-
ones painted bright patterns on them in blue and
pink and gold. Then the wood-pigeons came in
May with the cuckoo, and began the summer con-
cert, cooing and calling through all the woods
around Barrymore, particularly towards evening,
when the air was soft and sleepy, after the heat of
the day. By the end of the month the nightin-
gales arrived, whole tribes of them ; they sang at
dawn, and they sang again in the evening; but
their grand concert was held at night in a copse
close by the ivy tower, where the foliage was deep,
and the lilac trees bent under their blossoms and
filled the night air with perfume. Sometimes the
music was so loud that it woke Lady Margaret ; then
she would get up and go open the window to scold/
those nightingales for making sucli a racket; but
instead of scolding, she generally stood listening
until she forgot her broken sleep, and anger was ,
lost in delight, listening to the luscious trills and
the loud call-note and all the rapture of melody
that poured from those tiny brown throats, while
the sea kept up an under-current of song, sighing
and heaving gently under the moonbeams.
To-night the singers were keeping a perfect
revel, singing with a very madness of delight;
trilling and holding on the notes until one won-
dered their little breasts did not burst with the
flood of their own song, — a downright ecstasy of
gladness; the sky was pure blue, and liquid as a
gem — but suddenly, as if the sweet voices of the
night had purled it, a light shower began to fall,
dropping on the crystal sea, and pattering on the
leaves like sympathetic tears; but a breeze came
rippling up from the bay and swept it away, and
the silence was once more complete ; the nightin-
gales had it all their own way again, with the
water lapping on the beach, and the stars chiming
in soft sphere-melody. /
" They will have a glorious day for the hounds
to-morrow," thought Lady Margaret, as she closed
the window and went back to bed.
And so they had. You could not find a pleas-
anter, prettier picture anywhere than that which
the lawn in front of The Towers presented next
morning while the hunt assembled. The scarlet
coats of the sportsmen flashed bright against the
green of the lawn and the brilliant blue of the
sky ; horses were champing the bit, snorting and
quivering with impatience as they snifted the
fresh morning air, and made it as hard as possible
for the grooms to hold them. All the party were
in high spirits ; Colonel Blake was in his element ;
Meg Merrilies was waiting for him, and evidently
disapproved of being kept waiting, if one might
judge by the way she curvetted and danced and
tossed up her pretty head, almost lifting the groom
off his feet; but the Colonel only laughed at these
graceful antics, declaring that they were a feminine
device of Meg's for attracting admiration and
showing off the beauty of her parts ; and if this
was true, it must be owned that she was very suc-
cessful in her coquetry. The dogs were w^hining
and straining in the leash, growing more unman-
ageable to the whippers-in with every moment's
delay. At last everybody was ready, and the party
came trooping out from the breakfast-room, which
opened on the terrace. Lady Margaret was the
only lady present; she looked to great advantage
in her dark green habit and velvet hat enriched
T
602
Ave Maria,
with its rich curling feather; a plain woman looks
handsome on horseback, a handsome one looks
beautiful / Lady Margaret looked beautiful ; she
was flushed and full of animation as her husband
came gallantly forward to help her into the sad-
dle; he was proud of his wife at all times, but he
had never felt more so than to-day, as she sat on
her fine bay horse, her figure so queenly, her seat
so firm, her whole air at once so womanly and so
spirited. She patted him saucily on the shoulder,
as he arranged the folds of her habit and handed
her her whip. Young Squire O'Donoghue had
been on the watch to perform these little services
for his hostess, but Colonel Blake never allowed
anyone to replace him there; it amused him to
note the disappointed look of the young man, who
was a notorious dandy in the eyes of men, and a
terrible lady-killer in his own ; he drawled out his
words in the most approved dandy fashion, lisped,
wore an eye-glass, and used a vast amount of pf r-
fume. Most people laughed at him, and, taking
him at his own showing, set him down for an
empty-headed fool ; Colonel Blake thought there
was more in him than appeared on the surface,
and liked him and stood up for him. The young
man's chief claim on his esteem was perhaps his
having endeavored to set up a soap-boiling estab-
lishment on his estate; his neighbors said it was
purely a mercantile speculation, and fell to the
ground as it deserved ; what right had an Irish
gentleman to disgrace his order by stooping to the
like? Colonel Blake maintained, however, that
philanthropy and a patriotic desire to improve
the moral condition of his tenantry had been the
real motive of the scheme, which had only failed
for want of corresponding disinterestedness and
energy in his agents.
Sir John Carew, a next-door neighbor of the
Colonel's— their properties touched, some forty
miles oif— had been very wrath with Mr. O'Don-
oghue, and indeed there was a slight coolness be-
tween them yet, owing to this soap business; but
it was diflicult to keep up anything of that sort
under the influence of their host's genial cordial-
ity; every sort of coldness 'and ill-will thawed in
his presence, like snow in the sunshine.
Sir John was complaining to Major Fitzgerald
of the difllculty he had in managing his horse ; he
was an inveterate hunter, and he had a mania for
riding horses that were too much for him; he was
a corpulent man, sitting sixteen stone in his saddle,
and he persisted in riding young horses who re-
sented the load, and kicked and chafed under it
with all their might.
Major Fitzgerald, a brother officer of the Colon-
el's, the most fearless horseman in Connemara,
was pouring vinegar on the Baronet's feelings by
telling him this wholesome truth ; and the Rever-
end Mr. Wilkinson, the clergyman who had the
care of the nine orthodox souls of Barrymore, was
doing duty as peace-maker, an ofiice which be-
came his cloth, though he was less at home, some
people thought, in the said cloth than in his pres-
ent sporting costume. It would indeed be difficult
to find anything less sacerdotal than the minister's
person and manners ; he would have made an ex-
cellent type of a north-country farmer, bluff-faced,
bushy-haired and stout, enjoying a good run with
the hounds, a good dinner, a good joke, all man-
ner of legitimate good things, as heartily as any
man ; he would have made an excellent county
member, landlord and magistrate; as it was, he
made a very fair parson, insomuch as the require-
ments of his special flock were concerned; he did
not spiritualize them much, but then they perhaps
did not care to be spiritualized; on the other hand
he was an exceedingly good-natured, gentlemanly,
agreeable man, a good friend to everyone who
wanted him ; liberal to the poor, irreproachable
in conduct, and generally satisfactory; there were
some puritanical, strait-laced persons who took
exception at the spectacle of a minister of the
Church in top-boots after the tally ho! but, as
Lady Margaret very justly observed, a man must
do something to kill time, and as Mr. Wilkinson
had so few souls to save in his parish the only re-
source left was to fish and hunt. Mr. Wilkinson
had accordingly become a very Nimrod, a hunter
mighty indeed before the Lord; he stopped at
nothing; hedge and gate, brook and bank, he took
them all; yet he had never been thrown in his
life, a circumstance which he referred to the direct
and manifest protection of Providence, and for
which he felt sincerely thankful.
There were four or five other gentlemen of the
party this morning; but there is no need to al-
lude further to them than to say that they were
all in good spirits and approved of everybody and
everything all round, the parson's top-boots in-
cluded.
"Now, Blake, for mercy's sake let us start!"
cried Sir John Carew, who was growing purple
in the face from the exertion of holding in
his thorough-bred, while that unfortunate steed
foamed at the mouth as if it had been the orifice
of a soap fountain, so furiously did Sir John tug
at it. "This brute will bolt if you keep him
waiting one minute longer. Quiet, you brute!
Soho ! quiet I say ! Blake, let us be ofi', will you !"
[to be continued.]
Let us be affable, but never flatterers, for there
is nothing so vile and unworthy of a Christian
heart as flattery.— ^S^. Vincent de Paul.
Ave Maria,
503
Louise Latean.
A VISIT TO BOIS D'HAINB.
[Continued.]
As is often the case with the children of the
poor, Louise was at an early age employed in
guarding cattle. One day, in conducting two
cows to the meadow, she slipped while passing
through a narrow lane and the cow behind her
continuing its heavy gait trampled over the body
of the poor child. Save for a momentary pain,
Louise did not immediately feel the efl'ects of this
accident; so with that secretiveness peculiar to
childhood she made no mention of it to her elders.
Three weeks later a frightful illness, the conse-
quence of internal injuries, revealed the mishap —
but, contrary to all expectations, she was finally
restored to perfect health.
The piety of her childhood, in all things a fair
sample of the piety of the children of good Cath-
olics, was especially characterized by cheerfulness
in the midst of the misery surrounding her, and
by an intense desire to nurse the sick.
She made her First Communion at the age of
eleven years, and from that time she was for five
years a semi-monthly Communicant.
At the age of fifteen she followed the example
of her elder sisters in becoming a seamstress, and
she then worked by the day in the families of the
neighboring aristocracy.
From this short summary of her childhood the
reader may glean that she had very little time to
devote to that which is usually termed self-im-
provement. Her opportunities of education were
but few ; the five months of preparation preceding
her First Communion comprised the whole of her
school life, that being all the time the poverty of
the family allowed her to spare in occupation not
lucrative. During that time she was taught to
read, and she learned to write a little by observing
and imitating her schoolmates who were suffi-
ciently advanced to practice penmanship.
In the school of Divine Love she made rapid
progress. To nurse the sick, to pray for the con-
version of sinners, to make the Way of the Cross,
and to meditate on the Passion of Our Lord, these
were her favorite recreations. At the age of six-
teen she became a weekly Communicant; but, as
has been before implied, her laborious life gave her
ample occupation, and she had no time to indulge
in any fanciful devotion which could possibly
induce a state of religious frenzy. In fact even
under the most favorable circumstances it would
be impossible for the Flemish nature to develop
anything like frenzy, and Louise is as thoroughly
phlegmatic as only a Flemish maiden can be. It
was at this early age that she distinguished her-
self by heroic acts of charity, not only prompted
by sincere piety but accompanied by firmness and
decision.
Who does not remember the cholera of 1866 ?
It made but a brief sojourn on our continent, but
it was all too long for many. In Belgium it swept
alike through hamlet and city, carrying off whole
families, devastating whole districts. The little
village of Bois d'Haine was a prey to its most
frightful ravages, and an epidemic of unearthly
fear was its constant companion. In every case
the sick members of a household were instantly
deserted by the others, no matter how close might
be the ties of relationship. Husbands fled from
their dying wives, wives rushed from their plague-
stricken husbands, parents abandoned their chil-
dren, children forsook their parents, and few were
the chances of a Christian burial. In the midst
of scenes like this, remarks one of the biogra-
phers of Louise, there are three phases of heroism,
three phases of self-forgetfulness, three who vie
with one another in courage — the doctor, the
priest, and the Christian woman. With the doc-
tor, it is his calling, his means of livelihood ; to
the priest it is something more — it is a vocation, a
divine obligation; but with the Christian woman,
who leaves home and safety to nurse the plague-
stricken, is an act which takes its place next to
the following of the evangelical counsels, for it
possesses a certain character of voluntary virtue
to which certainly the doctor can lay no claim.
Milan and Florence once saw their Prelates
passing day and night in administering the last
Sacraments to those dying of the pest. Bois
d'Haine was but a village, its pastor a simple vil-
lage priest, yet his conduct was worthy of the
Church that honors St. Charles Borromeo. Had
the villagers remained with their dying ones they
might have seen their pastor, by night as well as
by day, seeking out the sick, to solace all their
woes both temporal and spiritual. Often during
his labors he thought of his good Louise ; here
was an extensive field for her pious exertions, and
finally he made an appeal to her courage and
charity. She was ready and willing, for it was a
thing ardently desired by her; but her mother
made very natural objections, to which Louise,
•always obedient, yielded quietly. But her obe-
dience did not prevent her from having recourse
to prayer, and she besought the Almighty to move
her mother's heart to grant the required permis-
sion. Her prayer was soon heard. Madame La-
teau gave her consent to the good work, trusting
that Divine Providence would mercifully protect
her child from the effects of contagion.
The people still relate with won<?er how that
504
Ave Maria.
girl of sixteen, hardly emerged from childhood,
seemed to multiply herself through the village,
going from house to house, nursing the sick and
laying out the dead. One incident will serve to
show how her example finally conquered the
dreadful panic, and caused the well to forget their
cowardly fears and pay attention to the sick, and
thus overcome the violence of the pest.
In a certain house there were three cholera
patients a man and his wife and their daughter.
The sons, seized with terror, fled from the house,
and none of the neighbors dared to enter the
afflicted cottage. That Louise imitated tlieir
course of action, the reader will not for one
instant imagine. The man died. Louise was the
only one present when M. le Cure administered
the last Sacraments ; and when he left, to carry the
Consolation of the dying elsewhere, she was left
alone in the house. The woman died the same
day; and the sons, trembling with fear, came to
take their dying sister away from the village; but
they did not offer to see to the interment of their
parents. Louise did not desert the dead any more
than she had the living. She proceeded to lay
out the two corpses that were already impregna-
ting the house with infectious odors, and as she
was not strong enough to place them in their
coffins she called to her assistance her sister Ade-
line. These two girls, whose size would be al-
most dwarfish were not their tiny figures so well
proportioned, succeeded not only in placing the
bodies in their coffins, but also in dragging them
some distance from the house, in the direction of
the cemetery. The people of Bois d'Haine could
no longer resist this brilliant example, and per-
sons ran from all directions to assist in giving
Christian burial to the hitherto neglected pair.
At the very beginning of the following year,
Louise was attacked by a lingering illness — the
first sickness which she had had since her eighth
year, when she was trampled upon by the cow.
She suffered from severe pains in her head and
from an aggravated sore throat ; nevertheless she
continued her ordinary occupations until Septem-
ber. On the 18th of September, the eve of the
Festival of the Apparition of Our Lady of La
Salette, she received the last Sacraments, while
her friends began a novena to Our Lady of La
Salette. She took a few drops of the water of
the miraculous fountain, and, contrary to all nat-
ural expectations, she recovered immediately.
This was but a prelude to new pains. Scarcely
had three weeks elapsed when she was again un-
dergoing the most frightful sufferings; violent
neuralgia racked her head, and finally extended
itself to the whole of her left side, depriving her
of the use of^both hand and foot.
Louise not only bore her sufferings with a su-
pernatural patience, but they were the fulfilment
of a burning desire. That a soul of this descrip-
tion endures sickness not only patiently but lov-
ingly is a mystery to those who are not far ad-
vanced in the way of Christian perfection. The
trials of the Church, the Majesty of God offended
by sin, had long been themes of sadness to her.
Had she been one of the many who besought Di-
vine Justice to pour forth the vials of His wrath
upon their own unoffending heads and spare His
Church ? This no one knows ; we can only sup-
pose that it must have been.
The year 1868 brought no relief, but rather
augmented her torments. The first Friday of that
year witnessed the first tokens of that wonderful
manner in which God has chosen lo make her
an atoning victim for you and for me.
It was night, but Louise was sleepless, as all
who have experienced the horrors of neuralgia
can well believe; how her mind was occupied,
any Christian can surmise. Suddenly a flash of
spiritual light penetrated her soul, filling it first
with delight and afterwards with sadness — a sad-
ness even unto death. This sadness became pain
when communicated to the body, and Louise be-
gan to feel the first sensation of the Stigmata.
However, in her entire ignorance of this miracle,
she paid not much attention to this new location
of pain, only recollecting the events of this night
when the Stigmata finally became visible.
Meanwhile a painful abscess made its appear-
ance in the armpit. The remedies applied by the
physician brought no relief whatever; one alarm-
ing symptom succeeded the other, and finally, on
Passion Sunday, a violent hemorrhage threatened
to put an end to her life.
Two weeks later she received the last Sacra-
ments, and while making her act of thanksgiving
she was inspired to ask God for life and health.
She asked for health, that she might be able to
assist her mother; and for life, that by fresh ^ffer-
ings she might become more worthy of the prom-
ises of Christ.
The moment that Louise had finished her prayer
she knew that it had been heard; at the same
time she learned that she was destined to great
suffering, but of what nature she did not know.
She repeatedly foretold to her family and to M. le
Cure that on the 21st of April she would present
herself at the village church to receive Holy Com-
munion. They did not place much faith in her
prediction, especially when the eve of that day
found her still feeble, still confined to her bed ;
but, to their surprise, on the morning of the 21st
she arose, and, dressing herself, entered the church
at 7 a. m., in full health. Her words had been
Ave Maria,
505
spread through the village, where she was so well
known, and the congregation had assembled, as
they themselves said, to witness the miracle.
For this day and the two succeeding ones, no
person in Bois d'Haine thought of the Stigmata-
least of all Louise, wlio, although a member of the
Tliird Order of St. Francis, was totally ignorant of
the fact that this saint received the Five Wounds
of our Lord. Why a girl of her extreme piety had
thus been ignorant of this important fact it is dif-
ficult to divine. Her mother, an honest, straight-
forward Christian womfjn, also never knew that
this was one of the glories of the Church, until
she saw it exemplified in her own family. That
there has existed among the laity of France and
Belgium — let the clergy speak for themselves — a
class who consider it unnecessary, nay even harm-
ful, for the world in general to be cognizant of
the wonders which God has wrought in His
saints, is a fact to which we can give ample
testimony. Lives of the Saints have been written
in which all the supernatural is omitted! "The
wonders, the miracles," say the authors of those
works, " give no food to our devotion ; they do not
concern us, as they do not furnish us with any
practical example of virtue; let us rather turn
to the virtues, the maxims."
These virtues were practised under certain cir-
cumstances ; for those same actions to be virtues
in us would perhaps require that Divine Provi-
dence should surround us with precisely the same
conditions. These maxims were uttered in the
midst of other social customs, in another age, per-
haps in another nation — all which, most probably,
it would be necessary to recall in order to com-
prehend the real nature of the advice. Thus
often while we think that we are following the
example of the Saints we are doing almost cruel
things, uttering cold, harsh words, instead of con-
soling, Christ-like comfort. But there is some-
thing in that divine light shed by the superatural
which wonderfully illumines the virtues of the
saints, and shows more clearly to our spiritual
vision wherein we may imitate them. Humility
is a powerful instructor, and she is most readily
found by viewing what God has revealed of His
exceeding great glory; for it is thus that we see
how very far we are from being at the summit of
perfection. It is not faith that is thus disturbed,
it is pride that is wounded.
No food for devotion in these miracles! Ah,
such little comprehend that true devotion consists
in glorifying the wonderful works of God, and not
in surrounding oneself with a proud virtue. No
food for devotion in contemplating these glimpses
of that glory whose infinite beauty furnishes the
Seraphim with an eternity of love and thanksgiving!
" We are not seraphs I " would these authors re-
ply; "and these wonders are really injurious to
the faith of the multitude."
The religious history of the eighteen centuries
that have elapsed since Christ founded His Church
form a fitting supplement to the Sacred Scriptures,
a continuation of the New Testament, which is
ours, to be taught to us; ours as fully as any por-
tion of the history of Divine action, from the cre-
ation of the world until the establishment of Chris-
tianity. Therefore the faith which knows that
God had an eternity of existence before He called
the universe into life— that is not dazzled by the
lightnings of Sinai— that is not scandalized by
the Manger and the Cross, and that kneels believ-
ing before the Blessed Sacrament — might well be
trusted with the knowledge of any miracle how-
ever wonderful, of any vision however exalted.
[to be continued.]
The Wonders of Lourdes.
Rev. Father T. Porter, Rector of the Jesuit
Church, Salisbury-street, Liverpool, recently de-
livered a special sermon to a crowded congrega-
tion, many of whom were Protestants, on the ex-
istence of the supernatural as proved by the mirac-
ulous events of the present day. After speaking of
the spread of infidelity, and of the many proofs of
the existence of God and of the supernatural, Fr.
Porter said: — In order to make the matter more
clear he would descend to particular facts in the
present day, and allude to things which could not
be explained on any natural grounds. He would
speak of the miracles wrought in the grotto of
Lourdes. That valley in the slopes of the Pyrenees,
which in 1856 was known only to a few shep-
herds, was now the most celebrated sanctuary in
the world, where tens of thousands congregated
to witness the countless miracles wrought there.
Men who had been blind for forty years had been
restored to sight by washing in the waters of the
grotto, so had cripples and palsied men recovered
the use of their limbs. More wonderful than the
cure of bodily infirmities were the conversions
wrought there. In one instance a newspaper re-
porter joined a troop of pilgrims in order that he
might the better scofl; at the matter, and yet after
he had entered the grotto he came forth a believer
and a penitent, with the burden of his sins cast at
the feet of the priest who was there to receive his
confession. Unbelievers had entered and come
forth practical Catholics. The supernatural was
the more clearly shown in the fact that all were
not cured or converted, some returning with their
maladies and their sins. The miracles could not
606
Ave Maria.
be denied, and with their existence before him
no reasonable man could deny the evidence of the
supernatural.
■<•»
A Soldier Preserved from Death by the
Blessed Virgin.
The Walirheitsfreund relates the following in-
cident:
"It was on the 10th of August," said a soldier
of the 10th Prussian Army Corps who had fought
in the war of 1870, "when, at the earliest dawn of
day, we had to leave our encampment and march
to battle. The roar of heavy guns soon greeted
our ears. I was for the first time in my life going
to the field of blood. I felt poorly, and a secret
fear crept heavily over my heart. ' What shall be-
come of me to-day ? ' I asked myself; and the
answer was: 'Thou art doomed to death.' I at-
tempted to overcome my anxiety, and summoned
up courage as best I could. On reaching the
battle-field my eyes beheld a beautiful statue of
our Blessed Mother standing at my right hand
side, high on a mountain. The rays of the morn-
ing sun shed round it a beautiful golden lustre.
I was still gazing at the statue in silent medita-
tion when the command ' Double quick ' was given.
Obeying the order, I recommended myself in a
short prayer to our Blessed Lady, full of confi-
dence in her powerful protection, and behold! all
my fears and troubles vanished. A heavy fire of
shells gave us a hot reception, and I saw my poor
comrades falling on the right and left. Full six
hours we had to stand the brunt of the battle ; no less
than four times my nearest neighbor fell and was
replaced at my side, but I escaped with only a
slight wound. Need I say that I offered a fervent
thanksgiving to my heavenly Protectress — that I
thanked her more fervently than ever before ? And
henceforward,nothing can shake my confidence in
this powerful and benevolent Virgin. May all who
read this be animated by the same feelings."
Letter from Rome,
Rome, July 7, 1876.
Dear Ave Maria:— Why should we hesitate to re-
peat a truth? Why should I falter in reiterating that
which is palpable and incontrovertible? Did not St.
John, that Disciple of love who ever reclined close to
the great loving Heart of Jesus Christ, and who, his
life long afterwards, preached about love and charity,
run out of a bath in Ephesus, saying that he feared
lest the roof should fall in because it covered a here-
tic? And when his disciple, St. Polycarp, was met in
these very streets of Rome by another heretic, the no-
torious Marcian, who asked if he knew him, did he
not reply in truly apostolic simplicity and indigna-
tion, "Yes, I know thee to be the first-born of Satan."
It is no sin, tlierefore, to say that Rome is occupied
by legions of legalized thieves and ruffians in fine
clothes, compared with whom the savage Hun who
worshipped might as the right, was truth and integ-
rity of purpose itself. I wonder what an American
citizen would say, if, walking down Pennsylvania
Avenue in the city of Washington, his eye encoun-
tered numerous advertisements which called his at-
tention to the fact, that, say on the 13th day of Au-
gust, 1876, the Government of the United States
would sell off at public auction Church property be-
longing to the Methodists, to the amount of thirty or
forty thousand dollars? And suppose that this per-
formance be repeated thrice a month for upwards of
ten years, until the property confiscated amount to
the sum of more than a hundred million dollars!
Dear Ave Maria, the hanging of John Brown by
"Massa Guvnor Wise" only produced an ebullition
of placid excitement compared with the very confla-
gration of public passion which would follow an an-
nouncement similar to the above from the Govern-
ment of the United States. I bring this matter to
your own doors, gentle Catholic readers (pardon me
the familiarity). With several thousand miles of
ocean between you and Rome, it is but natural that
the outrages perpetrated here against the Catholic
Church,
THE ONLY LIVING REPRESENTATIVE OF JUSTICE IN
ITALY TO-DAY,
should only excite a transient feeling of sorrow, with
perhaps an equally short-lived sentiment of indigna-
tion. But if our indignation be great and just
against a low burglar who breaks into a house at
night, it should be as great, and certainly more justi-
fiable, against the sacrilegious burglars who break
into God's sanctuary and carry off the offerings which
we, in the persons of our sainted ancestors in the
faith, deposited there for His honor and the good of
our own souls. The Church property which is being
sold here daily is not exclusively, no nor principally,
a monument of past Italian charity. England, Ire-
land, Scotland, Germany, France, and Spain have,
from time out of mind, contributed largely to increase
the wealth of the Church here, and when these fol-
lowers of Heliogabalus lay their hands upon God's
wealth in these sanctuaries, they violate the rights of
us Saxon, Celtic, French or German Catholics, as
flagrantly as if they waylaid us in the streets of Rome
and compelled us to give up our effects.
One of the grand marks of the Catholic Church is
ITS UNIVERSALITY,
and it is a peculiarity of this universality that not only
does she extend over the face of the earth, taking
men and women as she finds ihem, in every possible
station of life, and making of them therein, with all
their peculiarities of clime and origin, true children
of God, but even in her material exterior, as she is em-
bodied and established here in Rome, she speaks not
exclusively of Rome — only in the mystical sense, or
in the primatial sense, — but in all the rest, in her
churches, in her ecclesiastical courts, in her abbeys,
Ave Maria,
507
in her monasteries, in her colleges and universities,
SUE IS COSMOPOLITAN IN ORIGIN AND IN PURPOSE.
Take the Roman College, now converted into a lyceura
where boys are familiarized with immorality. Would
you know its origin? The gentle St. Francis Borgia
was heard in Spain soliciting money for its erection
and perennial support. And so with hundreds of in-
stitutions of the like nature. And I make no doubt
that in the sale of the property of the Benedictine
monks at St. Paul's outside the walls, which is to
come oil" on the 22d inst., and which involves the sum
of 152,450 lire, English charity is outraged, per-
verted, and now passes to support a body of so-called
administrators, in reality robbers. I pass over the
fact of the confiscation of the property of the foreign
Colleges. That is not only an outrage against the in-
dividual Catholics of the
NATIONS REPRESENTKD BY THE COLLEGES,
but an insult to the nations themselves, and an impu-
dent violation of international law.
So much said to the discredit of injustice, and in vin-
dication of justice. To be logical, I should have pre-
mised with the irreliiiious and atheistic performances
of the powers that disgracefully be. I should then be
reasoning from cause to eflFect. But as my letter par-
takes of the narrative also, I may be permitted to ar-
range the criminal proceedings of Pagan Rome in the
manner best adapted to recording them. The Senate
has at last endorsed the bill of Parliament which abol-
ishes the name of God from the oath in the civil tri-
bunals. A formal declaration now, that there is no
God, would be supererogatory. The Government
which refuses to recognize the invocation of God's
Holy Name in depositions wherein the truth can only
be sealed by an appeal to the great Truth itself, prac-
tically and explicitly denies the existence of God.
Why, one of the Senators remarked, while the discus-
sion was pending, that he didn't see the use of making
so much ado about the name of God, since all the great
philosopJiers of our time with one accord reject the existence
of God. Ferrari, who died the other day, just a month
after his nomination as Senator, was one of these phi-
losophers. Voltaire was their prince, and Rousseau a
no contemptible planet. I wonder if these so-called
philosophers ever read the Bible, and in the hypothe-
sis that they do, even on the score of its being a well-
written volume what construction do they put upon
the saying of the Wise Man, whose wisdom they can-
not ape even a longe:
" THE FOOL HATH SAID IN HIS HEART, THERE IS NO
GOD."
Expunging the name of God from the oath formula
was in deference to the liberty of conscience of indi-
vidual deponents. And yet, when it is a question of
how a father shall educate his child, there is no lib-
erty. The petition of the Catholics of Italy for lib-
erty of education, though lying on the table *of the
Senate for the last seven months, was only read on
the 22d ultimo, and — a gracious act which posterity
should remember — a discussion of the matter will be
permitted. That is a mere formality, which will
amount to nothing favorable to the cause of the
O'Connell League. Catholic Christian liberty of ed-
ucation cannot count upon one single "yea" in the
Italian Parliament And yet there are many Catho-
lies in Italy, and not a few abroad too, who are con-
tinually mooting a reconciliation between the Vat-
ican and this Government. Permit me to cite a pas-
sage on this subject from the letter of the late la-
mented Mgr, Bindi, Archbishop of Siena. It is ad-
dressed to a Conciliator. " I speak plainly. That idea
you are so much in love with, of a reconciliation be-
tween liberty and faith, between the State and the
Church, while in the order of principles it can stand,
and Is just and true, is in the present times and
circumstances utterly impossible. The principle of
civil liberty in these modern times unfortunately took
a beginning from the human word, which denied
the Divine word, per qxiem omnia facta sunt, — through
whom all things were made, — and waging war with
implacable hatred against the supernatural order,
which is the principle and the reason of the natural
order. What point of concord can there be between
an affirmation and a negation? But you will say,
there is misery in the human element of the Church.
I do not deny it. But the infinite wisdom of the Eter-
nal Physician heals her, chastising this element by let-
ting it pass tyrannically the adverse principle, and
that the Church weep and purify or re-create herself
under the Cross, drawing herself to Calvary, where
alone, " being lifted upjrom «^e earth," she will find the
^Hraham ad Me omnia'''' — I will draw all things to My-
self—of her Divine Master. Let us leave the Divifle
Master to work, without wishing to correct Him, or
dictate the Latin to Him, or to impose sudden and mi-
raculous revolutions upon Him for our comfort. Man
proposes but He disposes, and in the accomplishment
of His dispositions there will be a harmony between
the two cities, the celestial and the terrestrial." Speak-
ing of the scourge which God is evidently inflicting
upon the Church, he writes: "It is to be expected that
God will not lay it aside so soon, whatever may be said
by those who look in open-mouthed expectation for
the great miracle of the imminent overthrow of that
demon called legion., which is using the rod every-
where." And this demon is as multiform as he is mul-
titudinous. In Sicily he appears in the brigands, as
well as in the authorities who
PULL DOWN THE CHURCHES AND BUILD THEATRES
UPON THE SITES.
In Rome, he appears in the official unbelief and im-
morality which are dailjf laying aside what little re-
serve prudence may have suggested hitherto. And
the latest dispatches from the Romagna announce
that a formidable and armed band of Socialists has
been discovered. What is it in Lombardy and Venice?
The same irreligion which begets the atheists who
are now established in Rome, and a Republican spirit
which smacks loudly of Communism. Of Piedmont
I shall say nothing— but this. There sprang the tor-
rent, and the tij^ sought its own level by flowing
eastwards and westwards, and always southwards.
Not because I attach the less importance to ecclesi-
astical matters do I speak of them last. On the 29th,
the Pope blessed the Pallia for the next year. On
508
Ave Maria.
Tuesday last, under the Presidency of the Cardinal
Vicar of Rome, the Sacred Congregation of Rites held
the nrst discussion on the life and virtues of the Ven-
erable Servant of God,
LILIA MARIA,
of the Order of our Crucified Redeemer. She was
born in Viterbo in 1773, and died in 185G, after a life of
extraordinary penance. The result of the discussion is
an inviolable secret as yet. Supposing that each of the
fifteen consultors gave an opinion favorable to the
cause, three more discussions will be held prior to the
publication of the first decree, in answer to the
usual query, did she practise the theological and car-
dinal virtues in a heroic degree? If the answer be
affirmative, many other consultations will be held on
the expediency of beatification and ultimate canoni-
zation. Arthur.
Church Etiquette.
As regards this point of courtesy, says the Cath-
olic Advocate, " the most casual observer wlio visits
our Catholic and Protestant churches cannot fail
to notice the marked difference in the spirit of ac-
commodation or courtesy manifested by the res-
pective congregations. It is a common thing, both
at the early and late Masses, and especially at the
latter, to see numbers of people standing in the
vestibules or ai-sles during the services. As a mat-
ter of course, when all the pews are occupied by
persons who rent them, some who do not rent
seats must stand ; but in nearly every case all
could be accommodated if the sexton or the person
acting in that capacity made an effort. How dif-
ferent is the custom in the Protestant churches !
Let who will enter them, whether a member or
not, he or she always finds some one who cour-
teously conducts the visitor to a pew ; or if there be
no vacant seat, a chair, campstool, or bench is pro-
vided. Whatever may be said per contra, about
pew-holders and pew-rents, we are fully satisfied
that more of both would be secured if a little more
politeness were shown to strangers and others who
visit our churches. We cannot imagine, for a
moment, that any pew-holder sacrifices any claim
to the title of gentleman or lady by tendering a
vacant seat in his or her pew to any genteel-look-
ing person who, prompted either by devotion or
curiosity, visits our churches. In this respect, at
least, our sextons and congregations might learn
a profitable lesson from their Protestant neighbors.
We are not unmindful that our good Mother is
Queen and Mistress of all that God has created ;
nevertheless, we delight more^tS^call her Mother
of God, because in that glorious title we discover
the origin and source of all others. — St. Bernardine
of Sienna.
Catholic Notes.
Mr. Henry L. Hoguet, President of the New
York Catholic Protectory, recently gave $4,000 to that
institution.
A monument to Bartolomeo Christofali, the in-
ventor of the piano, has been placed in the Church of
Santa Croce, at Florence.
Seven thousand waifs have been admitted into
the foundling institution of the Sisters of Charity,
New York, since its foundation in 1869,
We return our sincere thanks to Rev. Fathers
Pujol and Lynch, of the Church of Our Lady of
Sorrows, Santa Barbara, Cal., for kind favors.
In the article, "A Visit to Bois d'Haine," page
471, No. 30, instead of "Mone" read Mons. Mons is
the capital of the province of Hainault, and is doubt-
less well known to the lovers of mediaeval history.
Some notices of new publications are held over
till next week. We have received " The Three
Pearls," published by the Catholic Publication Soci-
ety; Benziger's Catholic Book News for 3 \x\y. Mineral
Map of New South Wales, etc., etc.
A pilgrimage to Rome, proposed by the Editor
of the Catholic Review, is being arranged by the Xavier
Union of New York. It is to take place next June,
when the Holy Father's episcopal Jubilee will be
celebrated.
In the Catholic University of Ireland an Aula
Academica, or large lecture hall, is now being con-
structed. It is 90 feet in length, 30 in width, and 25 in
height. It is to be opened at the beginning of next
term, when it is expected that his Eminence Cardinal
CuUen will deliver an inaugural lecture.
On July 10th, in the Convent Chapel of the Sis-
ters of Mercy, St. Xavier's, Bangor, Maine, Miss
Mary Nolan, in religion Sister Mary Philomena, and
Miss Margaret Denehy, in religion Sister Mary Veron-
ica, received the habit and white veil from Rt. Rev.
J. A. Healy, who preached an eloquent discourse on
the occasion.
The Church in Africa has met with a severe loss
in the death of Monsignor Bessieux,Bi8hopof Gallipolis
in partibus and Vicar Apostolic of the Two Guineas.
This venerable Prelate, who expired on the 30th of
last April, had for the last thirty-four years devoted
himself to the Missions of Africa. He had been
Bishop for thirty-seven years, and was almost as
much venerated by the pagans as by the Christians.
—B.I. P.
On July 16th the Festival of Our Lady of Mount
Carmel was celebrated for the first time in the Church
of Our Lady of Peace at Niagara Falls, by the Fathers
of the ancient Order of Carmelites, lately introduced by
His Gmce the Archbishop of Toronto. On the same
day the corner-stone of the new monastery of the
Carmelites was laid by His Grace the Archbishop, as-
sisted by several other Bishops of the Dominion and
Unites States.
A sacrilege was committed a few nights back
Ave Maria.
509
at the Cathedral of Puy (Haute-Loirc). Some coffers
containinj^ gold chains aud other objects of the prec-
ious metals, votive plFerings to the Blessed Virgin,
were forced open and their contents carried off. The
sacred vessels and relie» were respected. The sacri-
legious thieves iare supposed to have concealed them-
selves behind the columns at the hour of closing,
about eight, and so to have had the whole night at
their disposal. No trace of them has been discovered
as yet.
The Catholics have 106,000 of the Christian In-
dian population. The Protestants, according to the
Hon. Felix Brunot, have only 15,000. This gives the
Catholics seven-eighths of the whole, and one-eighth
for all the Protestant sects. In 1875, Congress appro-
priated about $200,000 for the Indian schools, and of
this sum $15,000 went to the Catholic, and $185,000 to
the Protestant schools. The Catholic teachers partly
supported by the Government last year were 33. The
Protestant sects had 64 missionaries and teachers
wholly supported by the Government.— J?osto» Pilot.
" One of our Episcopal exchanges," says a Prot-
estant contemporary, " whose eminent common sense
and chaste, vigorous English would lead us to expect
no possibility of cant, follows a bad example in speak-
ing of its denomination as the 'Catholic Church' and
the ' Holy Catholic Church.' The Episcopalians have
no need of such assumptions; and if they had, this par-
ticular one would be most of all others unfortunate.
The Roman Catholics adopted that name, and have it
by right of a thousand years' possession; and they
may justly complain of the morality that would ap-
propriate their trade-mark and put it upon goods not
produced at their factory."
The celebration at Lourdes, on the 2nd of July—
the consecration of the new Basilica and the crown-
ing of the Statue of Our Lady— attracted an array of
Archbishops, Bishops, a large number of priests, and
an assemblage of more than one hundred thousand
of the faithful, to that town. The conduct of the
pilgrims was most devout. From an early hour
Masses were said in the crypt and at temporary altars
erected in the meadows bordering on the Gave. Vast
numbers there received Holy Communion. Madeleine
Lancereau, of Poitiers, aged^ei, well-known as being
unable to walk without crutches for 19 years, was
radically cured during, the Mass celebrated by the
Nuncio at the Grotto.
The brigantine Adele d' Auray, on her way from
Cardiff to Auray, with a cargo of mineral ore, was
assailed by a heavy tempest. Her sails, her life-
boats, her poop, her rafts, her timbers, all were carried
away by the violence of wind and waves. The crew,
coraposedfof six men, reduced to eat raw potatoes,
expected death every instant. They made a vow
to Saint Anne and collected the sum of twenty
francs for Masses. The money was tied to the bar
of the rudder. Scarcely had they pronounced their
vow when they saw a vessel, to which they made sig-
nals of distress. The Caton received them a few mo-
ments afterwards, aud took care of them. The brave
sailors, accompanied by their families, nobly acquitted
themselves of their vow to Saint Anne, their power-
ful protectress.
"There are those who represent the Catholic
Church," said the Marquis of Ripon in a recent ad-
dress, "as the enemy of education and of knowledge.
Send back your answer from this great meeting. Tell
them you are no friends of ignorance, that you are
athirst for knowledge as any of your countrymen, and
that you ask for education as loudly as they. All that
we ask in addition is this— that for us, at all events,
education shall be complete and full, that it shall em-
brace not the intellect only, but the soul, and shall be
applied to the moral qualities as well as to the mental
faculties of man ; above all, that its base shall be laid
deep and strong on the solid foundation of our faith,
upon that foundation which, as we believe, it is alone
possible to raise in true and perfect beauty the glo-
rious fabric of human knowledge."
Censuring the pagan practice so common among
nominal Catholics of giving nicknames to children in
baptism, the Montreal True Witness says: "This giv-
ing of nicknames at the baptismal font is a Protestant
notion, and can hardly be termed much better than a
pagan practice. The Catholic who gives the name of
a saint to his child in the holy Sacrament of Baptism
does so in the hope that he or she may grow up and
imitate the virtues of its heavenly patron. The Cath-
olic registers of baptism display no such incongruities
as nicknames given to children, and it is only in the
gradual withdrawal from the teachings of the Church
and the neglect of the beautiful Christian practices
which are their outgrowth that we can find a cause
for such a heathenish practice as that of bestowing on
infants such meaningless appellations."
We hear from Ingolstadt, Bavaria, of a miracu-
lous cure by the intercession of the Blessed Virgin,
the particulars of which are as follows: Miss Eliza-
beth Prugger had been since 1866 an inmate of the
city hospital. She was completely lame, and her
lower limbs were so deprived of the sense of feeling
that neither heat nor cold, nor even incisions with a
knife, could be felt by the poor invalid. All medical
means being exhausted, she was pronounced incurable
by all the physicians. But in the midst of her cruel
Bufferings the poor girl had always a lively faith in
the protection of our Blessed Mother, in whose honor
she commenced a novena in the latter part of May.
At the close of the novena the was conveyed by a
charitable widow in a small wagon to the little Chapel
of our Lady near Garmersheim, about three miles
from Ingolstadt. Seated on a bench in the chapel, the
poor sufferer said her rosary with great devotion, when
on a sudden an unspeakable sensation pervaded h^r
body and she fell to the floor as if she had been*
thrown down by an unseen power. The poor widow,
full of anxiety, hastened to her assistance, but the girl
said she felt as though she could rise of herself. And
so she did, and UMBr_knelt before the statue of the
Blessed Virgin, |^H||^ervent prayers of thanksgiv-
ing. After this s^^Wnled back to Ingolstadt, on the
same road over which a ffew hours before she had passed
a helpless invalid. These facts have been reported to
510
Ave Maria.
the Wahrheitsfreund by a German priest in Bavaria
who was an eye-witness to the miraculous event.
A contributor to the Neue Preussiche Zeitung^ a
Protestant journal of conservative tendencies, gives
a very favorable opinion concerning the Catholic con-
vents and monasteries of Belgium. "Anyone," he
says "wishing to form an impartial judgment, can-
not withhold the testimony in favor of the Catholic Re-
ligious Orders and Congregations that they, taken
as a whole, hardly ever have given any reason for the
least complaint." After vindicating their right to a
certain political influence, the writer continues: "But
the most unfounded charge ever made against the
Catholic Convents in Belgium is the reproach of idle-
ness; a reproach which they do not at all deserve.
Scarcely one-fifth of the Belgian religious are men,
and the great majority of these as long as health and
strength permit, manifest a tireless activity in all
branches of education; only very few among them
are devoted to a purely contemplative life, totally es-
tranged from the world. The same can be said of the
female religious congregations. Their members
prove themselves very useful as teachers and hospital
nurses. Above all, the fact that they zealously and
with great charity support the needy and afflicted is
deserving of the highest eulogy. In an over-populous
country, where by the side of enormous wealth the
greatest poverty can be found, and where the secular
charitable institutions are often very inadequate
and insufficient, such assistance is invaluable; and
if one wishes to be just, he should not lose sight of the
fact that the religious orders and congregations hon-
estly share with the needy and infirm poor whatever
they have or earn by their honest toil. Many relig-
ious lead a life of active charity and self-sacrifice
which merits the highest praise."
Obituary.
We regret to announce the decease of Rev. Am-
brose Augustine Mullex,O.S. A., who died suddenly,
on Friday, July 7th, at Andover, Mass., aged forty-nine
years. Deceased was for several years a professor in
Villanova College, and President of that institution
from 1865 to 1869. He was a member of the Order of
Hermits of St. Augustine, and his scholarly mind, pro-
digious memory, and varied learning made him a
most admirable instructor. For many years he was
attached to St. Augustine's Church, Philadelphia. In
1869 he was assigned to missionary duty at Andover,
Mass., where he remained until his death, and where
a large circle of friends mourn his loss. The funeral
obsequies took place at the Augustinian Church of
St. Mary, Lawrence, Mass., on the 11th. There was a
large assembly of people and priests. A powerful and
touching sermon was preached by Rev. J. McGrath,
of Lowell. At the conclusion of the solemn and im-
pressive ceremonies the procession was formed. The
Lawrence Cornet Band preceded the mournful cortege ;
then followed the long procession, consisting of the
Rev. Clergy in carriages, the Andover and Lawrence
Young Ladies' Sodalities, the Andover Benevolent
Societies, the Lawrence Irish Benevolent Society, the
Conference of St. Vincent de Paul, of St. Mary's
Church, and members of the congregation and friends
on foot. The chimes played appropriate music before
and after the services. At tfie cemetery the usual
services were performed, and the last prayers said for
a good priest gone to his reward.
Departed this life, on Thursday, July 6th, after a
week of intense suflfering caused by her' clothing
accidentally catching fire while busy with her house-
hold duties, Mrs. Susan Stanley, of Oil City, Pa., in
the 22d year of her age. This lady's years, though
comparatively few, were evidently well spent and full
of merit for the next life. She had been a monthly
communicant during life, strictly attentive to her re-
ligious duties, and her example and conversations are
spoken of as highly edifying to all around her. As a
wife and mother she had been looked upon as a model
by those far more advanced in years than she; it is
said that the young came to her for counsel, the old for
comfort, the afflicted for consolation, and the poor for
charity. She bore her intense sufferings with cheer-
fulness and equanimity to the last; perfectly resigned
to the holy will of God, she feared not death, she
asked not for life, but as it pleased Him; when any-
one asked if she was in pain, she would but smile and
say, " God is so good to let me suflfer here. Oh, my
sweet Redeemer! Thou hast suffered so much for
me! " For more than eight days did this pious Chris-
tian lady bear her great sufferings with perfect resig-
nation, her crucifix in her hand, her thoughts with
God, until an edifying death put an end to her pain.
She retained full consciousness to the last, and calmly
breathed forth her soul into the hands of its Creator
at 2 o'clock in the afternoon of Thursday, July 6th,
after receiving all the consolations of our holy relig-
ion. Rev. Father Carroll and other kind friends were
assiduous in their attentions during the last days of
this good woman's life, giving her such consolation
as it was in their power to afford. Mrs. Stanley was
a member of the Rosary Confraternity and the Associa-
tion of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, whose members
are requested to pray for the repose of her soul. Her
body was interred in St. Joseph's Cemetery, Oil City.
We commend to the prayers of our readers the
repose of the soul of Mr. Edward Dougherty, of
White Ash, Pa., a life subscriber to the Ave Maria,
who died at Pittsburg on the 15th of July, in the 62d
year of his age. Mr. Dougherty lived a fervent Chris-
tian life and died a happy death, strengthened by the
last Sacraments. Requiescard in pace.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report por the Week Ending July 32d.
Letters received, 110; New members enrolled, 101.
Applications for prayers have been made as follows:
Restoration of health is asked for 105 persons and 9
families; Change of life and return to religious duties
for 40 persons and 15 families; Conversion to the
faith for 18 persons and 3 families; Perseverance for
6, and a happy death for 21 persons; Particular graces
Ave Maria,
511
are asked for 5 priests and 4 religious; Tlie grace of
vocation to the priesthood for 29 youn^j men, and a re-
ligious vocation for 47 persons; Temporal favors have
been asked for 68 persons, 5 families, 3 communities,
and 2 asylums; Spiritual favors for 70 persons, G fam-
ilies, 4 communities, and 2 asylums. Among the in-
tentions that have been specified are: Spiritual and
temporal assistance for several widows anxious for the
welfare of their families; Several young religious in-
tending to make their religious profession on the 15th
of August; Several Novitiates; The mother of a family
who is insane; Several pending lawsuits; Peace and
harmony in several families ; Protection for the father
of a family who is now exposed to danger in the In-
dian war; Cure of a poor woman's eyes, temporal re-
lief for her family, and reformation from intemperance
for her husband; Thanksgivings for several favors ob-
tained; Some persons about to undergo dangerous
operations; Several baptisms; Several persons threat-
ened with insanity; The request of aflBlicted parents
for prayers in behalf of two young men, brothers, who
have given' up the practice of their religion; A lady
who is deaf and in great need asks the prayers of the
Associates for speedy relief from pecuniary embarrass-
ment.
TAVOKS OBTAINED.
The following accounts of favors are published from
letters received during the week: "You remember
that I wrote to you last winter requesting the
prayers of the Association for my brother, who was
falsely accused of a crime. Well, thanks be to God
and His Blessed Mother, he is exonerated, and those
that accused him then are now convinced of his inno-
cence.".... "Some weeks ago I sent you a petition for
a gentleman to obtain success in a lawsuit, and the
re-establishment of amicable feelings between his
father-in-law and himself. He has gained the lawsuit,
and has received two affectionate letters from his
father-in-law, who acknowledged his mistake and
offered to do anything in his power for him."....
"Truly our dear Lady of the Sacred Heart gives us
more than we ask. " My sister gave me a little of the
blessed water after parturition, and I think I would
not be alive now but for it, as I was never so ill before.
I prayed that my baby might live to be baptized, and
it did, dying a few minutes after." "I wish to in-
form you that the gentleman to whom you sent the
precious water is getting well; truly a miracle. We
got some of the water sometime ago for an old lady
who had not been able to walk to church for quite a
while, and it did her so much good that she has been
able to attend Mass all summer.
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: Mrs. John
Lowe, of New York city, who departed this life on the
13th of July, fortified by the Sacraments of the Church.
Mr. Edward Dougherty, of White Ash, Pa., who
was relieved by death from a long illness on the 15th
of July. He bore his sufferings with great pitience,
fully resigned to God's holy will. Miss Sarah Kel-
EiiER, of Glen Hollow, Ills., who died the 3d of July.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Director.
ithilbren's Department.
A Story of a Crucifix.
A mission was held in a certain parish in
France, and among the most obstinate rebels
against Divine grace was a blacksmith living
very near the church. He made it a particular
point to cause the greatest noise in his work-
shop during the sermon, and at the very moment
the missionary ascended the pulpit this wicked
neighbor made his anvil resound with the most
formidable strokes of the hammer. The mission
was approaching its close. One of the mission-
aries had a large crucifix, and on a certain day
the body got loose from the cross, one of the nails
being lost. A happy thought entered the mission-
ary's mind. He went to his neighbor's work-
shop, and said to him: "Sir, could you render
me a service? I have heard that you are very
skilful : could you repair this crucifix ? "
The blacksmith met the priest on his entry
with an angry scowl; nevertheless he took the
crucifix, and after a short examination declared
that he could set it all right again. " I will leave
you my crucifix then," said the missionary.
After that the sound of the anvil was heard no
more during the sermons. Next day, the mission-
ary, after leaving the pulpit, found a man in the
sacristy who addressed him in words betraying
deep emotion. "Rev. Father," he said, "here is
your crucifix ; will your Reverence please hear my
confession ? "
" O how happy I feel, my dear friend ! "
"Yes, Father, you have guessed aright; and
you have succeeded well. When alone with that
fine crucifix, I commenced to tremble. It seemed
that it gave me a silent reproach. At last I felt
a great desire to be fully reconciled to God. Yes,
Father, I felt very miserable ; but since God was
so good as to die for us, will He not have mercy
on me, a poor sinner?" The sequel can be easily
imagined.
Our Lady of the Snow.
"Oh! what a pretty reliquary!" said Anna, as
she took up what looked like a small silver locket
from her cousin Mabel's little altar. "Whose
relic is in it?" she continued, holding it carefully
and looking at the symbols of our Lord's Passion,
and the monogram of the Blessed Virgin, which
ornamented both sides of it.
" Hold it up to the light, like this," said Cousin
Mabel, adjusting the locket to her eye.
512
Ave Maria.
Anna took the locket, held it to her own eye as
Cousin Mabel had to hers, and, instead of the relic
' which she had expected to see, there was a clear
picture, on a mere speck of space not larger than
a pin's head. " Oh, how wonderful this is? But
where is the picture?" exclaimed Anna, taking
the locket from her eye.
"The picture," said Cousin Mabel, "is in this
bit of glass in the middle of the locket, and the
glass, which is round, acts on the picture like a
microscope. It is very wonderful, certainly, and
I think may console us for some of the 'lost arts '
about which we hear so much regret. The picture
which you now see is quite as interesting as the
monograms in gold which are found in the glass
cups of the ancient Romans."
Anna looked at the picture again, and saw
buildings arranged on all sides of a hollow square,
with one which looked like a church facing this
hollow square filled with buds of flowers. Outside
this square was a sort of scattered village which
seemed to belong to it, and then other gardens,
and all ending in a horizon like the line of the
sea. Below it was printed: "Monastery of Our
Lady of the Snow."
" Now, Cousin Mabel, you must tell me about
the monastery, and why it has this name, * Our
Lady of the Snow ' ; for it does not look like a
snowy region in the least."
" Do you not remember the Trappist Father and
Brother, whom we saw this Spring? This is a
picture of their convent in France. Each Trappist
has his flower-bed, and this is why you see the
gardens all abloom in the hollow square. Our
Trappist Father did not talk much ; but when he
did talk, if you remember, he seemed to have lost
none of his natural grace of speech by his life of
silence."
" But the name of the monastery, Cousin Mabel ?"
"Do you not remember the Feast of the Blessed
Virgin Mary ad Nives^ which comes on the 5th of
August ? ' Ad Nives,' means ' of or ' at the snow ' ;
and the feast keeps in mind one of the miracles of
the early Church, which we find recorded, at some
length, in the Breviary lesson for the feast. The
story is this: During the fourteen years, four
months and two days in which St. Liberius sat on
the Chair of Peter in Rome, a certain pious patri-
cian named John, and his wife, wished to give
something of their vast riches to the Church of
God, then so poor in the goods and possessions of
this world. They also wished to dedicate their
offering to the honor of the Mother of Jesus, the
Divine Word made flesh in her womb. One night,
while this wish was in both their hearts, and they
were only waiting to know the will of God, they
both dreamed that the Blessed Virgin appeared to
them, and said: "Where you will see the snow
lying deep on the Esquiline Hill, build a church,
and let it cover the very same ground which the
snow will cover.'
"In the morning the pious patrician and his
wife waked to find their palace on the Esquiline
Hill, and all the magnificent gardens around it,
covered deep with snow, which did not melt un-
der the fierce heats of the Italian summer; for it
was on the 5th day of August. The whole city of
Rome was witness to this miraculous fall of snow
on the possessions of John the Patrician, on the
Esquiline Hill, while not a flake had fallen any-
where else. With unspeakable joy, the pious
couple made over this vast estate to the Pope for
a church, and here was built the Church of St.
Mary Major, or Sta. Maria Magg'iore, as the Italians
call it. No traveller goes to Rome, to this day,
without hearing of the fall of snow on the 5th of
August in the middle of the fourth century, be-
tween the years 352 and 366. In this church the
Blessed Virgin has been specially honored by
Christians, "it is one of the three patriarchal
churches in which the Pope celebrates certain fes-
tivals. Next to Loretto, it is the most famous in
the world for the devotion of the faithful to the
Mother of God. For this reason the invocation
of the Blessed Virgin under the title of " Our
Lady of the Snow" has been a favorite one for
1500 years, or from the early morning of Chris-
tianity. Its great antiquity commends it still to
the faithful children of the Blessed Virgin, among
whom the Trappists may certainly be reckoned.
More than one monastery has taken the name of
" The Blessed Virgin Mary ad iVms," whose feast
is celebrated on the 5th of August."
"And all this is commemorated in this pin's
head of a picture in your silver locket. Cousin
Mabel!" said Anna, giving another long look
through the microscope, made by a single drop of
glass, with its imprisoned picture of the "Monas-
tery of our Lady of the ^noyv.'"— Catholic Universe.
A Story of Blessed Eugeiiius III.
Many miracles are related of the holy Pope Eu-
genius III, who before he was raised to the see of
Peter was a Cistercian monk. On a certain day,
Brother Stabilis, a Roman by nation, fell asleep
shortly after midday, and in his sleep the Blessed
Eugenius appeared to him, and said to him, " Do
you know me, Stabilis?" The monk answered
that he knew him perfectly well. Eugenius then
asked him why he had never been to visit him.
Stabilis asked how, knowing him to be dead,
was it possible he could visit him? The Blessed
Eugenius then took him by the hand, and leading
him to his tomb, said, "If only you seek me here
you shall not depart without receiving a blessing."
As soon as the bell sounded for the Divine Office
Stabilis arose in haste, and, going to the tomb, he
sought earnestl}^ with tears and sighs, thathe might
receive the favor that had been promised. Nor
were his prayers in vain, for his left liand and arm
which had been paralyzed for many years were
suddenly healed.
AVE MARIA.
Menceporth all genef\a.tion3 shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., AUGUST 12, 1876.
No. 33.
The Love of Mary,
SELECTED FROM THE WRITINGS OP THE LATE O. A.
BROWNSON, LL.D.
We need not say that works on the love and ven-
eration of Mary can hardly be too much multi-
plied, for that love and veneration cannot be car-
ried to excess. No doubt, wherever there is strong
faith and lively devotion, without proper instruc-
tion, there may chance to be manifested now and
then something of superstition, whether the imme-
diate object of worship be the saints or even God
Himself; for there is nothing which men cannot
abuse. But superstition, except as combined with
idolatry and unbelief, or misbelief, is not one of
the dangers of our times ; and as the worship of
Mary is the best preservative from idolatry, her-
esy, and unbelief, so is it the best preservative
from superstition. Her clients will never become
spiritual rappers or abettors of modern necro-
mancy. Her devout children will not be found
among those who call up the spirits of the dead,
and seek to be placed in communication with
devils. The devils fly at her approach, and all
lying spirits are silent in her presence. She is
Queen of heaven and earth, and even rebellious
spirits must tremble and bow before her. Demon-
worship is undeniably reviving in the modern
Protestant world, and especially in our own coun-
try; and there is no room to doubt that it is owing
to the abandonment of the worship of Mary, which
carries along with it the abandonment of the wor-
ship of her Son, the Incarnate God. Where Mary
is not loved and honored, Christ is not worshipped ;
and where Christ is not worshipped, the devils
have the field all to themselves. The first symptom
of apostasy from Christ and of a lapse into hea-
thenism is the neglect of the worship of His Most
Holy Mother, and tlie rejection of that worship as
superstition or idolatry ; because that involves a
rejection of the Incarnation, which comprises in
itself all Christianity. Christianity is held only
when the Incarnation is held, and when that is
held, Mary is held to be the Mother of God, and de-
serving of all honor as such. We cannot doubt
the propriety of worshipping Mary till we have
doubted her relation as Mother of God, and to
doubt that is to doubt the whole Mystery of the
Incarnation.
In its bearings on Christian faith and worship,
then, we cherish the love of Mary, and are anxious
to see devotion to her increased. But we are also
>
anxious to see it increase, as the best preservative
against the moral dangers of our epoch. Mary is
the mother of chaste love, and chaste love is that
which in our age is most rare. The predominating
sin of our times is that of impurity, at once the
cause and the efiect of the modern sentimental
philosophy. All the popular literature of the day
is unchaste and impure, and it boldly denounces
marriage as slavery and demands that loose reins
be given to the passions. Catholic morality is
scouted as impracticable and absurd ; law is re-
garded as fallen into desuetude ; intellect is de-
rided ; reason is looked upon as superfluous, if
not tyrannical ; and the heart is extolled as the
representative of God on earth. Feeling is hon-
ored as the voice of the Most High, and whatever
tends to restrain or control it is held to be a direct
violation of the will of our Creator. Hence passion
is deified, and nothing is held to be sacred but our
transitory feelings. Hence everywhere we flnd^
an impatience of restraint, a loud and indignant
protest against all rule or measure in our aflfections
and all those usages and customs of past times in-
tended as safeguards of manners and morals, and
a universal demand for liberty, which simply
means unbounded license to follow our impure or
perverted instincts, and to indulge our most turbu-
lent and unchaste passions, without shame or
remorse.
5U
Ave Maria.
The sentimental philosophy taught by that im-
pure citizen of Calvin's city of Geneva, Jean
Jacques Rosseau, in his Confessions and Nouvelle
Heldise, and which is popularized by such writers
as Goethe, George Sand, Eugene Sue, Thomas
Carlyle, Theodore Parker, Ralph Waldo Emer-
son, Margaret Fuller, and, to some extent, Bulwer
Lytton, consecrating corrupt concupiscence, has
effected an almost universal dissolution of man-
ners and depravation of morals. All bonds are
loosened, and the very existence of society is
threatened by the fearful and unrelenting warfare
waged upon the family as constituted by Catholic
morality. The terrible revolutions which for the
last sixty or seventy years have shaken society to
its foundations, and which have been repressed
and are held in check for the moment only by the
strong arm of arbitrary power, are only the out-
ward manifestations of the still more terrible rev-
olutions which have been going on in the interior
of man ; and the anarchy which reigns in society
is only the natural expression of the anarchy that
reigns in the bosom of the individual. In the non-
Catholic world, and even in nominally Catholic
countries, impurity has gained a powerful as-
cendency, and seeks to proclaim itself as law, and
to denounce whatever is hostile to it as repugnant
to the rights both of God and man. Chastity is
denounced as a vice, as a crime against nature,
and the unrestrained indulgence of the senses is
dignified with the name of virtue, nay, is denom-
inated religious worship, and we may also fear
that fornication and adultery may again be im-
posed as religious rites, as they were in ancient
Babylon and other cities of the East.
The last, perhaps the only, remedy for this fear-
ful state of things, is to be sought in promoting
and extending the worship of Mary. Society is
lapsing, if it has not already lapsed, into the state
in which Christianity found it some eighteen hun-
dred years ago, and a new conversion of the Gen-
tiles has become necessary. Christian society
can be restored only by the same faith and wor-
ship which originally created it. Jesus and Mary
are now, as then, the only hope of the world, and
their power and their goodness will remain un-
diminished. The love of Mary as Mother of God
redeemed the pagan world from its horrible cor-
ruptions, introduced and sustained the Christian
family, and secured the fruits of the sacrament of
marriage. It will do no less for our modern
world, if cultivated; and we regard as one of the
favorable signs that better times are at hand, the
increasing devotion to Mary. This increasing de-
votion is marked throughout the whole Catholic
world, as is manifest from the intense interest that
is felt in the probable approaching definition of
the question of the Immaculate Conception. No-
where is the change in regard to devotion to Mary
as the Mother of God more striking than among
the Catholics of Great Britain and of our own
country. This devotion is peculiarly Catholic,
and any increase of it is an indication of reviving
life and fervor among Catholics; and if Catholics
had only the life and fervor they should have, the
whole world would soon bow in humble reverence
at the foot of the Cross. It is owing to our dead-
ness, our lack of zeal, our lack of true fervor in our
devotions, that so many nations and such multi-
tudes of souls are still held in the chains of dark-
ness, under the dominion of Satan.
There are two ways in which the love and service
of Mary will contribute to redeem society and re-
store Christian purity, — the one the natural influ-
ence of such love and service on the heart of her
worshippers, and the other the graces which in
requital she obtains from her Son and bestows
upon her clients. Mary is the mother of chaste
love. The nature of love is always to unite the
heart to the object loved, to become one with it,
and as far as possible to become it. Love always
makes us like the beloved, and we always become
like the object we really and sincerely worship.
If we may say, like worshippers, like gods, we
may with equal truth say, like gods, like worship-
pers. The love of Mary tends naturally, from the
nature of all love, to unite us to her by a virtue
kindred to her own. We cannot love her, dwell
constantly on her merits, on her excellences, her
glories, without being constantly led to imitate
her virtues, to love and strive after her perfect
purity, her deep humility, her profound submis-
sion, and her unreserved obedience. Her love
checks all lawlessness of the affections, all turbu-
lence of the passions, all perturbation of the
senses, fills the heart with sweelr peace and a
serene joy, restores to the soul its self-command,
and maintains perfect order and tranquillity
within. Something of this effect is produced
whenever we love any virtuous person. Our nov-
elists have marked it, and on the strength of it
seek to reform the wild and graceless youth by in-
spiring in his heart a sincere love for a pure and
virtuous woman; and the most dissolute are
restrained, their turbulence is calmed, their im-
pure desires repressed, in the presence of true vir-
tue. If this is so when the beloved is but an or-
dinary mortal, how much more when the beloved,
the one with whom we commune, and whose vir-
tues we reverence and long to possess, is Mary,
the Mother of God, the simplest and lowliest of
handmaidens, but surpassing in true beauty, love-
liness and worth, all the other creatures of God !
When the type of female dignity and excellence
Ave Maria.
515
admired is that of an Aspasia, a Lamia, a Pliryne,
a Ninou de I'Enclos, society is not only already
corrupt, but is continually becoming more cor-
rupt. So when the type of female worth and ex-
cellence, the ideal of woman, is Mary, society is
not only in some degree virtuous, but must be con-
tinually rising to sublimer excellence, to more
heroic sanctity. The advantage of having Mary
always before the minds and hearts of our daugh-
ters as their model in humility, purity, sweetness,
and obedience, in simplicity, modesty, and love,
is not easily estimated. Trained up in the love
and imitation of her virtues, they are trained to
be wives and mothers, or holy virgins, spouses of
Jesus Christ, sisters of the afflicted, and mothers
of the poor. The sentimentalists of the day tell
us that it is woman's mission to redeem society
from its present corruption, and we believe it,
.though not in their sense, or for their reasons.
"Woman has generally retained more of Catholic
faith and morality than has in these evil times
been retained by the other sex, and is more open to
good impressions, or rather, offers fewer obstacles
to the operations of grace. During the worst
times in France, when religion was abolished,
when the churches were desecrated, the clergy
massacred, and the profane rites of the impure
Venus were revived, the great majority of the
women of France retained their faith, and cher-
ished the worship of the Virgin. We have no sym-
pathy with those who make woman an idol, and
clamor for what they call " woman's rights," but
we honor woman, and depend on her, under God,
to preserve and diffuse Catholic morality in the
family, and if in the family then in the State.
There is always hope for society as long as
woman remains believing and chaste, and noth-
ing will contribute so much to her remaining so,
as having the Blessed Virgin presented to her
from the first dawn of her affections as her
Mother, her Queen, her sweet Lady, her type of
womanhood, a model which it must be the unre-
mitting labor of her life to copy.
Undoubtedly the love and service of Mary are
restricted to Catholics, and to those Catholics not
undeserving of the name; but this is no objection
to our general conclusion. We are too apt to for-
get that the Church is in the world, and that it is
through her that society is redeemed,— too apt to
forget that the quiet and unobtrusive virtues of
Catholics, living in the midst of a hostile world, are
always powerful in their operations on that world ;
and that the world is converted, not by the direct
efforts which we make to convert it, but by the
efforts which we make to live ourselves as good
Catholics, and to save our own souls. The little
handful of sincere and devout Catholics, the little
family of sincere and earnest clients of Mary, seek-
ing to imitate her virtues in their own little com-
munity, are as leaven hidden in three measures of
meal. Virtue goes forth from tliem, diffuses it-
self on all sides, till the whole is leavened. No
matter how small the number, the fact that even
some keep alive in the community the love and
veneration of Mary, the true ideal of womanhood,
the true Patroness of the Christian family, the
mother of chaste love, adorned with all the vir-
tues, and to whom the Holy Ghost says, "Thou
art all beautiful. My dove," must have a redeeming
effect on the whole community, and sooner or
later must banish impurity, and revive the love of
holy purity, and reverence for Catholic morality.
For, in the second place, the worship of Mary is
profitable, not only by the subjective effect it has
upon her lovers, but also by the blessings she ob-
tains for them, and, at their solicitation, for oth-
ers. In these later times we have almost lost
sight of religion in its objective character. The
world has ceased to believe in the Real Presence ;
it denies the whole sacramental character of Chris-
tianity, and laughs at us when we speak of any
sacrament as having any virtue not derived from
the faith and virtue of the recipient. The whole
non-Catholic world makes religion a purely sub-
jective aff'air, and deduces all its truth from the
mind, and all its efficacy from the heart, that ac-
cepts and cherishes it, so that even in religion,
which is a binding of man anew to God, man is
everything and God is r^pthing. At bottom that
world is atheistical, at best epicurean. It either
denies God altogether, or excludes Him from all
care of the world He has created. It has no un-
derstanding of His providence, no belief in His
abiding presence with His creatures, or His free
and tender providence in their behalf. Faith, it
assumes, is profitable only in its subjective opera-
tions, prayer only in its natural effect on the mind
and heart of him who prays, and love only in its
natural effect on the affections of the lover. This
cold and atheistical philosophy is the enlighten-
ment, the progress, of our age. But we who are
Christians know that it is false ; we know that
God is very near unto every one of us, is ever free
to help us, and that there is nothing that He will
not do for them that love Him truly, sincerely,
and confide in Him, and in Him only.
Mary is the channel through which her Divine
Son dispenses all His graces and blessings to us,
and He loves and delights to load with His favors
all who love and honor her. Thus to love and
serve her is the way to secure His favor, and to
obtain those graces which we need to resist the
workings of concupiscence and to maintain the
purity of our souls and of our bodies, which are
516
Ave Maria.
the temple of God. She says, "I love them that
love me," and we cannot doubt that she will
favor with her always successful intercession those
whom she loves. She will obtain grace for us to
keep ourselves chaste, and will in requital of our
love to her obtain graces even for those without,
that they may be brought in and healed of their
wounds and putrefying sores. So that under
either point of view the love and worship of
Mary, the Mother of God, a mother yet a virgin,
always a virgin, virgin most pure, most holy, most
humble, most amiable, most loving, most merci-
ful, most faithful, most powerful, cannot fail to
enable us to overcome the terrible impurity of our
age, and to attain to the virtues now most needed
for our own individual salvation and for the safety
of society.
In this view of the case, we must feel that noth-
ing is more important than the cultivation of the
love and worship of Mary. She is our life, our
sweetness, our hope, and we must sufler no sneers
of those without, no profane babblings about
" Mariolatry," to move us, or in the least deter us
from giving our hearts to Mary. We must fly to
her protection as the child flies to its mother, and
seek our safety and our consolation in her love,
in her maternal embrace. We are safe only as
far as we repose our heads upon her bosom, and
draw nourishment from her breasts.
[For the Are Maria.3
"They Know not what They do."
BY CHARLES W. GREEN.
All nature trembled with amaze,
An awful darkness clothed the sun,
Inhuman shouts that rent the air
Proclaimed the nameless deed was done.
Though bleeding, dying on the Cross,
Those precious hands and feet pierced through,
His pallid lips breathed one last prayer —
" Forgive, they know not what they do."
And now, when blessed Mary's name
Is coldly, rudely thrust aside,
Her intercession, lofty rank.
And glorious place in Heaven denied,
Perchance, before the Eternal Throne,
With tear- filled eyes of sweetest hue,
She pleads, "Oh! spare them yet awhile;
Forgive, they know not what they do."
Philadelphia, Penn.
The mania of being somebody ruins most minds
in the present day. Glory is the illusion of child-
hood, and of some men who never grow out of
childish ways. — Lacordaire.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER v.— (Continued.)
Ofi" they went at last, bounding over the green
turf, and through the rich plantations, till a loud
tally-ho ! rang over the hills, announcing that the
fox had broken cover; the hounds answered in
full cry, and the horses flew on over marshes and
meadows, fences, gates, quarries, stone walls, leap-
ing all with the reckless daring that is peculiar to
Irish hunters and Irish riders ; they gained the val-
ley, where the rich young harvest fields were tram-
pled down under remorseless hoofs ; the stream ran
wide and deep between its banks ; here and there
a block of granite, or a boulder, dislodged from
the overhanging hills, had rolled down and rooted
itself amongst the brushwood that grew in wild
luxuriance by the water's edge. Colonel Blake
knew every stone on both sides, and the best spot
to take the stream ; the sun shone full in his face
at this moment, a circumstance which would have
made him wary if he had been less familiar with
the road; but he never gave it a thought before
setting Meg Merrilies to the leap ; she had taken
it scores of times, and knew the stream as well as
he did. Boring on the bit, he set her head tow-
ards a point where an inward curve in the oppo-
site bank narrowed the interval; then he rose
lightly in the saddle, while Meg, laying her ears
flat, and gathering up her forefeet till her knees
nearly touched her chest, flung out her hind legs
on a line with her tail, and cleared the water like
a greyhound. As she alighted on the opposite
bank a cry rang out over the valley, loud, shrill,
and wild ; it sounded human, only that it was too
loud and powerful to have come from any single
human voice; it was like the shriek of a giant.
It was Meg Merrilies' death-cry. She had taken
her last leap, and lay stretched by the riverside,
lifeless, with her master crushed under her, and
nearly drowned in her blood; she had come
down on a boulder, which had driven its sharp
edge deep into her flank, piercing her heart, and
causing instant death. The tally-ho! sounded
again, and the hunt flew by, crossing the stream
at difi'erent points; but the treacherous foliage
which had lured poor Meg to destruction con-
cealed the disaster at first from view. Major Fitz-
gerald and Mr. O'Donoghue came last and nearest.
" Good God ! what has happened ! " cried the
latter, springing oft' his horse, and both rushed
to the spot. The mare was dead ; \\\ey could not
tell whether the rider was dead or not. They drew
him from under the mare as gently as they could,
then filled their hunting-caps with water and
poured it plentifully over him; it soon became
evident that the blood which covered his neck
Ave Maria,
01/
and face was not his own, and that the injuries he
had received were not external; they poured
some brandy down his throat, but he gave no
sign of consciousness of feeling.
"I'm afraid it's a bad business," said Major
Fitzgerald ; *' he has received a tremendous shock
somewhere, either in the head or the heart, perhaps
both."
" What's to do now ? How are we to move him ? "
said Mr. O'Donoghue.
" We had better lift him on to one of our horses,
and carry him to the nearest cabin," suggested the
Major.
The Colonel was a powerfully-framed man, so
this was no easy task ; they managed to do it, how-
ever, putting all their united strength to lifting the
dead weight and then holding it on the horse. It
so happened that the Torrys' cabin was the near-
est; they conveyed him thither, and the widow re-
ceived them with touching marks of welcome and
distress. The wives of the fishermen were used to
see men brought in to them half dead from the
dangers of the sea, and Molly, who was a fisher-
man's daughter, was experienced in applying the
immediate remedies resorted to in such accidents.
This one was from a different cause, still she fan-
cied that a swoon, whatever it came from, should
yield to the same treatment ; she proceeded there-
fore to try all her expedients with the utmost
alacrity and deftness ; she rubbed his hands and
feet, put hot flannels to them, chafed his temples
with brandy from the gentlemen's flasks, and tried
to pour some down his throat; all this she did
with the help of Major Fitzgerald; Mr. O'Don-
oghue had ridden on to The Towers to get a car-
riage to fetch the Colonel home, and to despatch
a messenger for the doctor. Nothing, so far, had
had the faintest effect; the Colonel remained still
as insensible as a dead man; he was not dead,
they could testify ; the pulse was sensible, though
extremely faint, and they could feel the pulsa-
tions of the heart feebly. The carriage arrived in
an incredibly short time, with Burke and the house-
keeper, and two men-servants to help.
" Who is to go now and tell mylady of it ? " de-
manded Burke, as his master was placed in the
carriage, and they were preparing to move off;
"hadn't you better go, sir?" he said, turning to
Major Fitzgerald.
" By Jove, I'd rather walk from this to Dublin
and back !." exclaimed the young man ; " I don't
believe I could do it ; I'd make matters wprse by
doing it so awkwardly; had not you better go,
O'Donoghue ? You are more intimate than I am ;
I think it would come better from you."
" There is no better nor worse about it, that I
can see," replied O'Donoghue; "but some one
must do it, and if you won't I suppose I must."
He rode after the hunt with a heavy heart; Col-
onel Blake judged the dandy rightly; he had more
depth than the world gave him credit for. The
event of the last hour had brought out his better
nature; he neither drawled nor lisped, but spoke
with the rapid, distinct utterance of a man who is
stirred by strong emotions and driven to complete
forgetfulness of self.
It was nearly half an hour before the hunting
party, which had lately set forth in such brilliant
spirits, returned in dismay and sorrow, with Lady
Margaret.
She was very white, but wonderfully calm and
collected.
"My God! Is he then still insensible!" she
said, growing a shade paler, as Major Fitzgerald
met her in the hall and confessed the fact in an-
swer to her direct enquiries. She put her maid
aside, and throwing down her whip and hat, hur-
ried upstairs to her husband's room. The sftong
man lay stretched on the bed, helpless as an in-
fant and still as death. A dreadful fear fell upon
Lady Margaret; she bent over him, clasping him
and calling him by his name, but he did not an-
swer by so much as a sigh. Several of the gentle-
men had followed her into the room and stood
round the bed.
" Can none of you do anjrthing ? Can none of
you help?" she said, looking from one to the
other ; and though the words were few and quietly
spoken, there was something more heart-rending
in the despairing appeal they contained than the
most passionate grief.
" Everything has been tried that could be done
without a doctor," said Mr. O'Donoghue ; " Mac-
Fay will be here shortly now, and may probably
bleed him; don't be too much alarmed, Lady
Margaret," he added in a sensible, quiet tone, that
was reassuring because it was sincere ; " I don't
believe there is any serious reason for being fright-
ened ; I have seen worse accidents than this in the
hunting-fleld, and I have seen men get over them ;
I believe the Colonel is more stunned than hurt."
" But he is so long insensible ! Have you ever
known a swoon like this last so long?" she asked,
laying her hand on the Colonel's heart, while she
kept her eyes steadily on the young man, to read
the sincerity of his answer in his face.
"I have known one last four hours! " said Sir
John Carew, triumphantly ; " I had one myself that
lasted two hours, and this has not lasted one yet,
eh? " turning to Major Fitzgerald.
The Major pulled out his watch. "Not quite;
fifty minutes, I think."
"Did the mare seem severely hurt? "enquired
Lady Margaret, remembering her husband's favor-
518
Ave Maria.
ite, for the first time; Mr. O'Donoghue had passed
lightly over Meg's share in the accident, in order
not to alarm her.
"Yes, poor thing, she got the brunt of it; luck-
ily she came down first, or it would have gone
harder with Blake."
" She is being attended to, I hope ? Kevin was
so fond of her. I hope she is not much injured ? "
" Oh, we saw to all that," said the young man,
pulling out his watch, though he knew the hour
to a minute.
"You had better go downstairs, all of j^ou,"
said Lady Margaret; "you can do nothing for
Kevin, you see, and you must be in want of re-
freshment after the ride and all this painful ex-
citement. Sir John, you will take my husband's
place and attend to his friends."
Tliere was a gentle decision in the way she
spoke that made protest or opposition impossible ;
they left the room quietly, and Lady Margaret,
desiring Burke and Mrs. Coyle to do likewise,
closed the door, and knelt down by the bedside
and called God to her aid. She prayed as she had
never prayed before; it was rather some one else
who prayed in her: a voice beyond her voice, a
soul within her soul ; the finger of God striking
chords that never vibrate to any touch but His.
Why did she long at that moment for Mr. Ring-
wood to be there to speak to her? Her own ap-
pointed pastor, the Reverend Mr. Wilkinson, was
downstairs, full of sincere sympathy and desire to
help ; but it never occurred to Lady Margaret to
ask for him. What could he do for her? What,
for that matter, could the Catholic priest do for
her ? What could anybody do, but the doctor ?
Yet her instinctive longing w^as for Divine rather
than human help. Every moment added to her
anxiety, while her husband lay there rigid and in-
sensible. If love be stronger than death she ought
to have had power to awaken him, her voice ought
to have been strong enough to reach him even in
this death-like lethargy. "Kevin! Kevin! my
precious, beloved one ! Speak to me ; open your
eyes for one moment and look at me." She put
her warm cheek against his, and called to him
with intense love and anguish. Was it the voice
or the caress that reached the sleeper? His lids
quivered, and he opened his eyes and looked at
her. A thrill of unspeakable joy shot through
Lady Margaret.
"My darling! you know me! your own Peggy ?"
He pressed her hand ; it was the feeblest press-
ure, but she felt it ; he was trying to say some-
thing ; his features worked painfully with the ef-
fort, but he could not articulate a sound.
" We have sent for Dr. MacFay, dearest ; he will
be here in a few minutes," said Lady Margaret,
trying to anticipate what he wanted to say.
But he closed his eyes, and there was a negative
contraction of the brow, which showed her that
she had not guessed right.
"They are all downstairs; would you like to
see any of them ? Sir John, or Mr. O'Donoghue ?"
"IS'o; the same look of distress and twitching
of the features distinctly said this was not what he
wanted. Lady Margaret was in despair; her hus-
band seemed to be praying for strength to utter
words that would not come; his eyes were lifted
up once or twice, evidently in prayer. A sudden
idea struck her; she took his hand, and holding
it softly in hers, said :
" Press my hand when you mean ' yes.' Are you
in pain?"
There was no pressure, but she gathered from
the expression of his face and a slight movement
of the head that he was not ; but again there came
that upturned, imploring glance. If she could
but understand it!
"Would you like Mr. Wilkinson to come up
and pray with you, darling?"
No assent, but a more vehement effort than
before, to speak ; every nerve in his body seemed
quivering in the struggle, strained to the utmost.
" My God, in the name of Jesus Christ crucified,
help him to say it!" cried the agonized woman,
aloud.
A swift, convulsive-like tremor passed through
the Colonel's body, and loosened the tongue for
one instant:
"The priest!" he gasped.
" The Catholic priest ! Father Fallon ? "
His fingers closed on her hand with a sudden
clutch that left no doubt as to the meaning; still,
to make sure that there could be no confusion in
his mind, or in hers, she said :
"Press my hand again if you mean 'yes'; do
you want to see Father Fallon ? am I to send for
him?"
The fingers closed with a decided pressure which
made all further doubt impossible. Lady Marga-
ret rose at once, and opened the door ; Burke and
some of the other servants were sitting on the
stairs; Mr. O'Donoghue was standing at the
window, looking out towards the Ballyrock road,
watching for the first sign of the doctor's ap-
proach. He started and came forward with an-
xious, questioning face when he saw Lady Mar-
garet.
"Let a messenger be despatched at once for
Father Fallon," she said, addressing herself to
Burke; she was as white as marble, and appar-
ently as unmoved.
" Glory be to God ! Has the masther asked for
him ! " cried the butler, with the familiarity of an
Ave Maria.
519
old servant, wliile an uncontrollable accent of joy-
was audible in his voice.
" He has ; send the best horse, and let Mat ride
him."
"Sure Mat is gone for the docthor, mylady;
but Murphy'll go; he weighs nothing in the
saddle, and he'll be there and back in no time,"
replied Burke. The other servants were listening
open-mouthed.
" Let me take the message, Lady Margaret," said
Mr. O'Donoghue; " I shall be thankful to be of
some use, and you may trust my doing it as
quickly as any of them."
"Thank you; then, pray, go!" she said,
briefl3^
The consternation caused by this news from the
sick-room was very great ; the hall and the stables
took to rejoicing over it in their own fashion,
while Burke carried the wonderful Intelligence to
the library, where the guests were assembled.
These received it according to their lights.
" Good God ! Sent for the priest ! The poor
fellow must be quite off his head ! I thought
from the first the brain was injured; it is clearly a
case of apoplexy; dear me! it's very sad, quite
deplorable! " This was Sir John's dirge over the
Colonel.
" He will not be held accountable for it if he
does not know what he is doing, poor man; he
will repent on coming to his senses,-" said Mr.
Wilkinson, who started to his feet and grew very
red in the face on hearing what had happened.
" It is possible he may be only coming to his
right senses now, " said Major Fitzegrald, who was
a Catholic, staunch as granite, though not a very
devout one. " Protestantism is a very comfortable
religion to live in, " he added, "but there is noth-
ing like the Catholic Church when it comes to
dying. God grant it be not come to that with
poor Blake; but this looks like it."
"You ought to have gone up and attended to
him, and prevented this, Wilkinson," said the cor-
pulent baronet, turning almost savagely on the
clergyman, who, in his dusty hunting-gear, booted
and spurred, did not certainly embody the ideal
of the priest, whose mission it was to anoint the
sick and help the dying sinner in his supreme
hour of need. Perhaps the utter incongruity of
his appearance, the mockery it cast on his sacred
character, struck Mr. Wilkinson Mmself, and
smote his conscience ; he bore the attack without
a word, and walked to the window in silence.
Presently he said, speaking more to himself than
to those present: " I would have gone if I thought I
could have been of any use — if I could have given
any comfort either to Colonel Blake or his wife;
but I felt if they wished me to go they would have
sent for me ; a man does not like to seem officious,
to intrude where he is not wanted."
And when we remember the distant terms he had
always been on with his two parishioners, what a
merely nominal bond their spiritual relationship
had been, there was truth and mere justification
in these remarks. The Catholics who were pres-
ent exchanged glances, and seemed to say to one
another: "What manner of Church is this, where
the priest feels an intruder at the death-bed of one
of his flock!"
[to be continued.]
Louise Lateau.
a vi^^t to bois d'haine.
[Continued^]
Denial and concealment are no real attributes of
the Catholic Church. Italian theologians tell us
that Truth is one and immutable, and that her ad-
vocates must declare her openly, fearlessly. If
apparently she seem against their dogma, they
must still declare her ; and if they stand by her
faithfully she will in turn vindicate them. Act-
ing on this principle, they make their people
sharers in the knowledge of the lives of their holy
ones; and every miracle, every wonder, is well
known among the masses. Results speak loudly
in favor of their system, for nowhere does implicit
faith exist more fully than it does in Italy, not
even among those dwelling in the shadow of Cal-
vary, or on the olive-clad hills of Bethlehem.
Faith is the virtue that reigns supreme, and
no heresy of these times can trace its origin to
that centre of living Christianity.
Yet other Christian nations often have too
little confidence in Italy, and many of the house-
hold echo the voice of anti-Catholicism in saying
that " religion is preferable and purer where less
mingled with superstition." We are very proud
of our title, "Roman," yet we often refuse to place
any reliance on the immediate surroundings of
the Eternal City. Italy, it is true, has had her
revolutions ; but in spite of the Reign of Terror,
and the Commune, not to speak of intervening
riots, self-styled "revolutions," Catholic France
has not lost the respect of the Christian world.
Why should we pour forth our righteous indigna-
tion indiscriminately upon all Italians, when in
France we are able to make the distinction be-
tween the desperate outlaw and the peaceful citi-
zen, between the red-republican and the legit-
imist? Why should we close our eyes to the
thousands who frequent Loretto while we gaze so
lovingly on the groups around Notre Dame de
Lourdes and Notre Dame de La Salette ? Yet it is
520
Ave Maria.
so,.anci the teachings of any Catholic country are too
often considered preferable to the voice of Italy ;
nay, even the circumstance of something being
customary there would cause that practice to be
eyed with disfavor by many calling themselves
sincere Catholics.
The foregoing may explain why the family of
Louise Lateau did not know of the Stigmata, that
brilliant jewel in the common treasury owned by
the Communion of Saints. But whether it was
unnecessary knowledge, injurious to the faith of
Bois d'Haine in general, and harmful to the virtue
of the Lateau family in particular, the Almighty
Himself took the task of judging.
Friday, April the 24th, Louise was again con-
scious of pain in the five localities of the Stig-
mata, and a wound made its appearance in her
left side. It bled plentifully ; but, with her habit-
ual reticence, she mentioned the fact to no one,
and the next day the wound was entirely healed.
The succeeding Friday, not only did the blood
issue from her side, but also from the upper sur-
face of her feet ; again concealing these facts from
her family, she, however, made M. le Cure her
confidant. The conclusion that he drew he did
not dare to admit to himself, much less to Louise,
who, obedient to his advice, still preserved silence
on the subject. The third Friday, the blood
flowed profusely not only from her side and from
both surfaces of her feet, but also from her bands
— thus rendering further concealment impossible.
M. le Cure advised Louise to apply to .the phy-
sician at Fayt — who, although a Catholic, actually
undertook to cure the Stigmata. One might laugh
at so great a folly were not the Five Wounds of
our Lord too sacred a theme for merriment. Had
it been necessary for this physician to be familiar
with this "faith-disturbing miracle"?
There is not from the southern slopes of the Alps
to the most remote corner of that fair island which,
half-occidental, half-oriental, rests between the
Adriatic and the Mediterranean, one village doc-
tor who would for an instant imagine that these
sufferings could come within the range of his med-
ical power. In these latter days, alas ! it might be
too easy to find those who, to please a silly, aa in-
comprehensible vanity, style themselves "liberals,
free-thinkers," infidels"; but whatever opinions
the idle lips of such a one might utter, the beautiful
legends of infancy would be stored in his heart.
He would remember how his mother, or perhaps
a brother or a sister scarcely older than himself,
had, in the days of a pious, trustful childhood, ex-
plained the paintings and statues of St. Francis of
Assisi which no doubt occupied prominent places
in the churches of his native town. He would also
perhaps recollect how, when boyhood was just' de-
veloping into manhood— while life was fresh and
beautiful to him, because the shadow of the world's
defilement had not as yet clouded the serene pu-
rity of his soul, a believing heart and willing feet
had borne him over the green Umbrian hills to
pray on the spots hallowed by the footsteps of St.
Francis. One glance at the bleeding form of the
simple peasant-maid would have aroused all these
holy recollections ; one glance would have pierced
his very heart, and the words "God be merciful to
me a sinner! " would have burst from his lips.
But with the doctor of Fayt it was otherwise.
Had he ever heard of any similar miracle ? Prob-
ably not; and if he had, no doubt it was coupled
with the words, " it is not an article of faith, you
know." His efforts resulted in causing poor Lou-
ise the most excruciating torments ; but the prog-
ress of the miracle was uninterrupted. Each Fri-
day the Five Wounds appeared; each, Saturday
they were completely healed, only a little redness
of the skin remaining.
Towards the middle of June, no relief having
been obtained, Louise was permitted to give up
his treatment. This same physician now de-
clares that he never attempted to cure Louise of
the Stigmata, but the fact is too well known in the
vicinity for him to deny his egregious mistake.
However, he cannot with justice be made an ob-
ject of ridicule, since he is only the victim of a
false system — a system which is loudly demand-
ing admittance into our New-World Catholi-
cism.
To use the language of mere science, these
weekly-recurring wounds in localities which make
them at least a wonderful coincidence in Louise's
case, were accompanied by other phenomena
not less remarkable. The most conspicuous among
them is the state of ecstasy in which her Friday's
sufferings terminate. The first traces of this con-
dition made their appearance long before the
Stigmata. One day during the summer of 1867,
when, while making the Way of the Cross, she
was meditating on the third Station, Jesus falling
under the weight of the Cross, a flash of spiritual
light flooded her mind, increasing her humility,
and causing her to reproach herself because she
had so little love of God. The state of abstraction
caused by this meditation was the first sign of
the ecstasies which afterwards joined themselves
to the miraole of the Stigmata.
During the days of convalescence which suc-
ceeded the 15th of April, 1868, those who visited
her sick-room remarked that frequently the fea-
tures of Louise were illumined by an expression
of radiant happiness which gave the hard features
of the peasant girl a beauty almost angelic ; but
if on these occasions her senses failed her, the
V
Ave Maria,
521
recall to outer life was so instantaneous that no
one remarked any abstracted manner.
The first decided indication of these ecstasies
was a certain absorption in God, wliicli ac-
companied the weekly apparition of the Stig-
mata; an absorption which on the day following
the Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel— the thir-
teenth Friday of the miracle — was changed into
ecstasy. At first this ecstasy was variable, coming
and going, every day of the week, any hour of
the twenty-four; but it is now some time since
it has a fixed boundary, which varies but slightly.
This ecstasy begins between the hours of 1 and
2 p. m., sometimes later, but never earlier, and
it terminates between 4 and 5 p. m.
Louise never knows th.e exact moment of its
arrival ; she may be in the act of speaking, in
the middle of a sentence ; she may be listening to
an exhortation ; she may be replying to a question,
when suddenly the fixed gaze, the radiant face,
tell the bystanders thet her communication is
now with another world.
"What is taking place ? what is she seeing ?
Listen to her own words :
" I am seized with an intense, a vivid sense of
the presence of God. I see His immensity and
my own nothingness, and I know not where to
hide myself."
This illumination of the mind is immediately
followed by a lesser light, by which Louise is
made to witness all the scenes of our Lord's Pas-
sion, from Gethsemani to Calvary. She sees Him
in all the stages of the Passion, but she is simply
a witness, not a sharer in the action, and our Lord
never notices her. She is insensible to the outer
world; but nevertheless, even during this state of
insensibility, the voice of ecclesiastical authority,
the voice of the Church, can reach her mind.
The single word, " Louise," uttered by any one of
her ecclesiastical superiors, or by any one to
whom, even unknown to her, they may have trans-
mitted their authority, will suflQce to recall her to
herself, and she replies to any question which
that person may make, although she will relapse
into her spiritual slumber as soon as the reply is
finished. When she is in this state, present her
any object that has been blessed and she exhibits
an instant desire to grasp it. Read to her any
ptayer of the Church, any psalm in any language,
and the ecstatic expression will vary according to
the words and the sense of the prayer.
[to be continued.]
He who sincerely desires the end, desires the
means; he who neglects the means, shows evi-
dently that he cares very little for the end.
The Peace of God.
Where gently falls the rays of light
Upon the ark of gold—
Wiiere sacred symbols silently
The Sacred Presence told—
Upon the Altar's step.
Where priestly footsteps trod,
There knelt a monk in prayer— unseen,
Save by the eye of God.
" O Christ I " he cried, " I long have toiled
To do Thy blessed will,
And yet my heart is torn by doubts,
My soul is restless still.
And now, O Jesus! I am old,
And now I crave for rest —
For rest and peace like his who leant
His head on Thy dear Breast.
" Sweet Jesus ! I have tried to walk
Where Thy bless'd feet have led;
And I have soothed Thy poor and sick,
And watched the dying bed.
And yet within my secret heart
I cannot feel Thy grace ;
O dear Redeemer of the world.
Why hidest Thou Thy face?"
And lo ! the mourner heard the "Voice —
As soft as angel tread;
It whispered sweetly in his soul,
And to his spirit said:
"Each merciful and kindly act
That thou for. Me hast done—
Thy works, thy prayers, thy bitter tears,
I know them all. My son.
" And, as My word is true, the deeds
That thou hast done for Me
Shall shine like stars within the crown
That I will give to thee.
But one thing have I sought of thee,
Alas! My son, in vain —
True faith in Me, who died that man
Eternal life might gain.
" For love of man, reproach and scorn
And stripes and bonds I bore ;
For love of man the crown of thorn
My bleeding Temples wore ;
For love of man My Sacred Heart
Was pierced by bitter woe ;
For love of man, on Calvary's Cross
My streaming Blood did flow.
" For love of man. My flesh I give
In Sacramental Bread —
Pour forth again the saving Blood
For all so freely shed.
Then trust in Me, poor troubled heart.
So tossed by fear and doubt:
Who comes in simple faith to Me,
I will not cast him out! "
522
Ave Maria.
Then felt the monk that in his soul
God's li,2:ht had dawned at last,
That all the clouds and all the mist
For evermore were passed.
A wondrous peace — the peace of God —
Upon his spirit fell. .
O God! this peace which Thou dost give,
Thy sons alone can tell.
Dear Saviour, give our fearful souls
This precious, saving grace;
Sweet Heart of Jesus, grant that we
More faith in Thee may place!
Thus shall we find— O priceless gift!
The boon for which we pray.
The joy the world can never give,
And never take away.
At break of dawn the holy monks
The vaulted chancel tread,
And find— a smile upon his lips—
Their brother cold and dead.
"With many a prayer his wasted corse
They lay beneath the sod;
And o'er his grave they write the words:
" He died at peace with God! "
-London Lamp,
Catholic Notes.
A Catholic college and church are to be erected
at De Graff, Minn., for which forty acres of land have
been purchased as a site.
A new Catholic journal has appeared in Paris—
La Defense Sociale et Eeligieuse, under the patronage, it
is said, of the Bishop of Orleans.
Personal.— If " A Poor Boy, " Philadelphia, will
send his address, we shall be glad to reply to his
letter. His request has been complied with.
Messrs. Major & Knaff, of New York, have our
thanks for three very pretty chromos, sent us last
week, but which were spoiled by pressure in the mails.
The prices were not given,
Among the many presents given lately by the
German pilgrims to the Holy Father is a magnificent
pluviale (cope) which the Queen-dowager Amelia of
Saxony made with her own hand.
The London Express offers no sympathy to Earl
Nelson on his son's conversion to Catholicity. The
noble lord, it says, must blame his own example, as he
belonged to the High Church party, and it is scarcely
surprising that his son should have crossed the boun-
dary line which divides the Oxford party from the
Church of Rome.
The Church of St. Philomena (the beloved Pa-
tron of the saintly Cure d'Ars) at Ars, France, is likely
to be completed soon. A collection for this purpose
is being madfe in England. The Cure d'Ars, as is men-
tioned in his Life, promised to pray especially for all
those who should help in the erection of this church —
a work in which he had a deep interest.
A strange mistake was spread all through Ger-
many, and even found its way into the Austrian news-
papers, with respect to the Corpus Christi procession
at Ems. It was stated that the Emperor witnessed
the procession with uncovered head. It was taken for
granted that it was the Emperor William of Ger-
many. This was a mistake. It was the Emperor Al-
exander of Russia.
The Right Rev. Monsiguor Robert Seton, D.D.,
has been appointed pastor of St. Joseph's Church,
Jersey City Heights. Monsignor Seton is a son of the
late Capt. Seton of the United States Navy, a grandson
of Mother Seton, founder of the Order of the Sisters of
Charity and of St. Joseph's Convent; is a brother of
Capt. Harry Seton of the United States Army, and
cousin of Archbishop Bayley.
It is announced tl]at the Society of Catholic
Youth in Italy has decided to make a pilgrimage to
the principal Sanctuaries of France next August, and
the Society of Our Lady of Help, in France, proposes
a pilgrimage of young men, principally students,
and other practical Catholics, to be made to the most
noted Sanctuaries of Italy, especially to those in
Rome. It is desired that each French diocese should
furnish at least ten pilgrims.
The deans and pastors of the Rhenish Prussian
dioceses, Cologne, Munster, Paderborn, and Triers,
lately held a conference at which a resolution was
passed to ask information from the Holy See as to
the manner of acting with regard to secular teachers
who have not the missio canonica for giving religious
instruction. As the pastors themselves are deprived
of all immediate influence over their parish schools,
and are even prohibited to enter the class-rooms, the
above resolution is the wisest measure that could be
adopted under present circumstances.
The Rev. Father Douglas (Lord Douglas) re-
cently sang his first Mass at the chapel of the Carmel-
ites, at Kensington (England). He is the only brother
and heir-presumptive of the Duke of Hamilton, and
is still in the prime and flower of youth. He was born
in 1843, and was educated at Eton. In 1866 he re-
ceived an appointment in the 11th Hussars, and was
aid-de-camp to Baron Napier of Magdala during the
Abyssinian war. He is the son of the eleventh Duke
of Hamilton, and of the Princess Mary, daughter of
the Grand Duke of Baden, and cousin of Napoleon III.
His only sister, Mary Victoria, was in 1869 married to
Prince Albert of Monaco.
The Fall Mall Gazette, adverting to the recent
celebration at Lourdes, expresses surprise " that this
ceremony, ordered by the Pope, is not a dogmatic
definition of apparitions of the Virgin, and people
may still doubt the miracle . . . ." Catholics feel no
such surprise, replies the Tablet, because they know
that no dogmatic definition of a miracle, or of any
other religious fact subsequent of the Divine Revela-
tion contained in the Deposit of the Faith, ever has
or will be given. Belief in the apparition and miracles
of Lourdes is simply a matter of evidence. The appro-
bation of the Pope, given to the devotion, assures us
i/lve Maria.
that the statements on which it is based are credible.
Such approbation is not given until the investiijationa
of competent authority have disproved the possibility
of fraud or delusion.
A great reparation has just been accomplished
at the moment when it was least expected. Monsig-
nor Hassoun, Catholic Armenian Patriarch of Cilicia,
w^as after four years of exile at last permitted to re-
enter Constantinople, his native city and patriarchal
residence. It is to the equity of the new Sultan that
is due the honor of this reparation, so long and vainly
hoped for under his predecessor. The Catholics have
great cause of joy, without any for regret, as the Holy
Father and the entire Roman Court are also rejoiced
at this event. By this act the Sultan Murad and his
Government have shown great political tact and
sound judgment. They have reconciled the sympa-
thies of 10,000 Armenians, and of all their Catholic
brethren in Europe. Even during the last persecu-
tion the Catholic Armenians have always proved
faithful subjects of the Sultan.
A few days since, reports a French paper, a lady
plainly dressed called for Mr. A. Desgeorges, treas-
urer of Saint Leonard's Charitable Institution, and
thus addressed him: "It is I who brought you last
year 12,000 francs; here is; another little donation,
which I beg you to accept and to employ for the same
good purpose." Mr. Desgeorges counted the money,
amounting to 8,000 francs. As on the previous year,
he was anxious to know the name of the generous
donor, but he was again disappointed. " But, Madam,"
objected Mr. D., "we must know at least for whom
we have to pray." "Oh!" answered the lady, "if
prayers are said for the benefactors, God will know
me well enough to be one of them." The institution
of Saint Leonard receives liberated convicts on the
day of their leaving the prisons, procures employment
for them, and works for their moral reformation and
rehabilitation.
New Publications.
The Wise Nun of Eastonmere. And Other Tales.
By Miss Taylor, Author of " Irish Hearts and Irish
Homes," '* Tyborne," etc. Baltimore : Kelly, Piet
&Co.
The Catholic youth of Great Britain and America
owe a debt of gratitude to the talented author of " Ty-
borne." As her stories while away the tedium of spare
hours, they will serve a doubly useful purpose by
inoculating the minds of youth with wholesome
precepts for their guidance through life, and sowing
seeds that will bear good fruit later on. The beau-
tiful story of "The Wise Nun of Eastonmere" is
already familiar to most of our readers, having
been first written for the Ave Maria and published
in its pages a year or two ago under the title of "Our
Lady's Jasmine." Since then it was issued in book-
form in England, together with two 'other stories'
from the same pen, "True to the End," and "Olive's
Rescue" — under the present title, and received well-
deserved praise from the English Catholic press. The
Messrs. Kelly and Piet have republished the work
from the English copy, and we have no doubt it will
meet with as warm encouragement from American
readers as any that could have been given it abroad.
We cordially recommend the works of Miss Taylor to
the attention of parents and others purchasing books
for young people. That they will like them, there is
no doubt, and that they will have a beneficial influ-
ence is no less certain.
The Three Pearls; or Virginity and Martyrdom.
By a Daughter of Charity. New York: The Cath-
olic Publication Society.
This is indisputably one of the most charming books
of the season. Sts. Agnes, Cecilia and Catherine, the
three Pearls, are so vividly and beautifully portrayed
that their glorious names seem to shine with new
lustre and evoke new praise. We associate this volume
with the "Three Phases of Christian Love," a book
which no one who has read will forget, and which re-
ceived such a warm reception from Catholic readers.
We trust " The Three Pearls " will be equally popular,
and hope its gifted author will no longer hide the
light of her literary talents. The publisher has issued
the volume in handsome shape, doubtless intending
it for a gift-book, for which it is singularly appropriate.
Reflections and Praters for Holy Communion.
With a Preface by His Eminence the Cardinal
Archbishop of Westminster. Baltimore: Kelly,
Piet & Co.
We are glad to see an American edition of this ex-
cellent work, which is a valuable addition to our
books of devotion. It is practical throughout, and
cannot fail to please and benefit the pious reader.
Freedom from the ordinary faults of devotional works
IB a further recommendation.
A new dramatic poem, " St. Thomas of Canter-
bury," by Aubrey de Vere, is in press.
Messrs. Kelly, Piet & Co. will shortly issue a
new edition of "Excerptaex Rituali Romani"; " Med-
itations on the Suflferings of Christ," by Catherine Em-
merich, a new and complete edition, with preface
and life by the Abb6 de Cazales; " The Discipline of
Drink," by Rev. T. E. Bridgett, C. SS. R., with an in-
troductory letter to the author, by his Eminence Car-
dinal Manning.
Patrick Fox, of St. Louis, has published a new
edition of Cardinal Wiseman's Lecture on " Science
and Religion."
Received.— Margaret Roper ; or. The Chan-
cellor's Daughter. By Miss Agnes M. Stewart.
The Young Crusader for July.
Obituary.
MOST REV. THOMAS LOUIS CONNOLLY,
bishop of HALIFAX.
Most Rev. Thomas Louis Connolly
Archbishop of Halifax, Nova Scotia,
dence, at midnight, July 27. On th
the remains were laid in state at tBC-
d??^
524
Ave Maria.
where they were viewed by an immense number of
people. The respect in which his Grace was held by
all classes was evinced by the display of flags at half-
mast, and the other signs of mourning that were ex-
hibited.
Dr. Connolly left his native Ireland some thirty-six
years ago, and went to Nova Scotia with the Most
Rev. Dr. William Walsh, first Archbishop of Halifax.
For twelve years Dr. Connolly acted as Dr. Walsh's
Vicar-General, at the expiration of which time he was,
on the 5th of May, 1852, appointed Bishop of St.
John's, New Brunswick. On the death of Archbisop
Walsh, in 1858, Bishop Connolly was translated to the
Archiepiscopal See of Halifax, his appointment by the
Holy See being dated April 15, 1859. Since that time,
up to the day of his death, he has labored zealously
and successfully for his flock. His funeral took place
from St. Mary's Cathedral, on Monday, July 31st.— iV^ew
York Freemari's Journal.
The intelligence of the death of Mr. Michael
SCANLON, of Hartford, Conn., will be received with feel-
ings of deep regret by the many friends whom his
noble qualities have bound to him by ties which death
can scarce sunder. He passed peacefully away, in
the bosom of his family, fortified by the last rites of
the Church, on the 14th of July. The funeral services
took place at St. Peter's Church, consisting of a solemn
requiem High Mass, Father Cremin being celebrant,
and Fathers Walsh and Slocum, deacon and subdea-
con. Mr. Scanlon was a good and affectionate father,
a loving and provident husband, a worthy and hon-
ored citizen, and he preached his holy religion by daily
practice of the virtues it inculcates. Kain or shine,
summer or winter, in heat or cold, he and his exem-
plary family were always found at Mass on Sunday
and holyday ; when he could serve God he was always
first, with a cheerful heart, to give of the means with
which God had blessed him; what he did he did well,
and throughout his life he was a true and sincere Cath-
olic, and no one was more devoted to the Church.
Requiescant in pace.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report for the Week Ending July 39th.
Number of letters received, 114; of new members,
135. The following favors are solicited through the
prayers of the Associates: Health for 99 persons and
2 families; Change of life and return to religious du-
ties for 64 persons and 5 families; Conversion to the
faith for 33 persons and 3 families; Perseverance for
20 persons, and grace of a happy death for 8 persons.
Particular graces have been asked for 5 priests and 12
religious; The grace of a religious vocation for 5 in-
dividuals; Spiritual favors for 46 persons, 17 families,
4 communities, 2 congregations and 3 schools; Tem-
poral favors for SO persons, 15 families, 3 communities,
1 congregation and 1 school; Several communities
about to make their annual retreat are recommended;
Tlie grace ^i true repentance is asked for an unfor-
tunate^ sinneSj tempted to despair; Peace and harmony
;n.seii%^l fa^nilies; Situations and employment; A
'^emporatjavj^r ^r a well-meaning Protestant, to re-
lieve his mind and efTect his conversion ; The children
of several families whose parents are disunited in their
religious belief; Employment for several individuals
and families, and means to save a homestead; Two
young men, brothers, who have given up the practice of
their religion; Conversion of a young man hopelessly
ill and at the point of death; Some insane persons
are recommended; Information is asked of persons
who left their home and friends some years ago;
A young lady, anxious to become a Catholic, asks to
be allowed to return to the Sisters next year, to be in-
structed and baptized.
TAVORS obtained.
The following extracts are from letters received dur-
ing the past week: "The Protestant girl who used
the blessed water says she is now well, and she wishes
you to return thanks for her to God and His Blessed
Mother. She still desires the prayers of the Associa-
tion, that all obstacles may be removed from the way
of her becoming acquainted with the true Faith and
obtaining sufllcient courage to embrace it. I also feel
that we owe many thanks to God and His Blessed
Mother for the recovery of a little child, whom the
doctors pronounced incurable. He was sufTering very
much with cholera infantum and spinal afl'ection. I
gave a little of the blessed water to the child; he ap-
peared better in a few minutes and could sit up in his
cradle." "Having last summer, made known to you
the object of my earnest prayers, I think it right to in-
form you that this affliction is removed; and that, since
before last Christmas, the person has recovered, and
continues in perfect bodily and mental health."
*' Some five or six months since, I asked for a little of
the blessed water of Lourdes for a poor girl who has
suffered for years from a sore. This girl has been for
eight or nine years 8ufl"ering such excruciating pain
from this sore that it was wonderful she retained her
reason. Yet under this affliction she was never known
to murmur, and did her work fully and satisfactorily,
in a Protestant family, and still continues to do so.
She used the water very sparingly and now states that
for the first summer in eight years she has slept every
night. If you but heard her thanks for this favor from
our Blessed Mother you would in some measure im-
agine what she must have suffered, as well as the bene-
fit she has received." " We wish to become sharers
in the daily Mass. I suppose 1 need not name the
friends for whom I bespeak your prayers, yet 1 name
Mr. M. as the one I would have share first in this great
means of grace."
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: Thomas Raf-
FBRTY, aged 20 years, a dutiful son and pious Chris-
tian, who was killed by the cars, near Rochester, Pa.,
July 4th. He lived to receive the last consolations of
religion, and died calmly, with a prayer on his lips
and peace in his heart. Mrs. Mary Beckett, who
died on the 22d of July, and Miss Ellen Cheevers,
who died on the 26th, both members of the Associa-
tion and both of Montgomery, Ind. John and Mat-
thew Flynn, Mrs. Ellen Dunn and Z. Wane, of
Dubuque, Iowa. Catherine Guilford, Elgin, 111.
Andrew Donnelly, of Hartford, Conn. Louis St.
Jacques, Miss Sarah Southwick, Wilfrid South-
WICK, Miss Delina Southwick, of Lansingburg,
N. Y. Prayers are requested for the repose of the soul
of Rev. William Augustine Verboort, who died at
Cornelius, Oregon, of lung fever, July 14th, and also
for his father and mother, who died a week or two
before him. Peter Dolan, late President of St. Vin-
cent de Paul's Conference, St. Francis Xavier's Church,
New York, who departed this life June 11th, aged 52
years. And several others whose names have not
been given.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. S. C, Director.
AVE MARIA.
^ (ffiatMw ^otmtal, AtvaitA to i\u ^t^mv of tlit §te$d f irgitu
Henceforth all genef^tions shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., AUGUST 19, 1876.
No. 34.
"Behold Thy Mother."
PROM THE GERMAN OF REV. P. ROH, S. J.
"Behold thy Mother!" * these words contain
the will, the testament, of the dying Redeemer to
His Church. This Divine Redeemer had already
given us all that was His when out of love for us
He became a poor man, a weak -child, and, ac-
cording to the declaration of St. Paul, laid aside
the glory which He possessed as the Eternal God.
Yes, as man He gave us the whole of the time
during which He dwelt on earth ; He renounced
all the goods of this world; willingly He re-
nounced them, that He might suffer for us. He
renounced honor when He permitted Himself to
be condemned, like the greatest criminal, to an
ignominous death, in order to suffer unutterable
torments in our stead ! Hanging on the Cross, He
gave us His Sacred Blood, even to the last drop ;
at the hour of death nothing was left Him of this
world's possessions save the crown of thorns ! —
and yet — yes! one thing was yet His — a veritable
treasure, a costly jewel of His filial Heart.- This
was His virgin Mother, who with tender mother-
love remained faithful to the abandoned One to
the last moment ; who had the courage to accom-
pany her Son to the very Cross itself, to place her-
self at its foot, in face of the raging crowd, tjius
tacitly proclaiming: "I am the mpther of the
Crucified."
To whom could He confide such a Mother as
that? To whom should He give her as a mother?
The heart of John, the faithful disciple, alone had
been stirred with the love which won courage to
enable him to stand with that Mother at the foot
of the Cross. The only one was he, of all the fol-
lowers of Jesus, who ventured to drink the cup of
pain and of shame with Him to the last drop. To
* John xix, 27.
this faithful disciple Jesus turned, with the words :
" Behold thy Mother! " and to the Mother He said :
"Behold thy son!" And He says these words
not only because His Mother had lost in Him her
only Son, and on this account needed an adopted
son for her protection on earth, but herewith He
speaks a word that penetrates much more deeply
into the very heart of His plan and of His work.
The Church of Christ has always believed that
John here represents not his own person alone,
but that we see in him the image of all such true
Christians as follow Christ and remain faithful to
Him, not only to the breaking of bread, but also
to the moment when He drains the cup of suffer-
ing. John is the perfect Christian, and in his
person Christ gave His Mother to be the spiritual
mother of every true and genuine Christian. All
true Christians, His true brothers. He has pre-
sented as spiritual children to His natural Mother.
If this appears singular, it is nevertheless very
simple. Christ, through the Redemption, having
become one person morally with all those who
are united to Him in faith, hope and love, if they
form one Christ with Him, manifestly Christ's
natural Mother becomes an adoptive mother, a
spiritual mother for all true brothers of Christ,
for all those whom He calls His brothers. And
if all those who are brothers in Christ make in
Him and through Him one family in God, then I
do not see how it can be reasonably disputed that
the Mother of Christ, in the flesh, is the [spiritual
Mother of this family of God, in which Christ is
the eldest born !
The reverence which the Church has manifested
for the ever-blessed Virgin, the devotion of which
she is the object, has often been regarded as an ex-
crescence of Christianity, as an interpolation, or at
the least as a superstitious exaggeration. But I
Jjeliev^ and hope that with the assistance oi the
grace d^ God I shall be able to demonstrate to
every ouC^ho is seeking the truth that the devo-
530
Ave Marieu.
tion to the Blessed Virgin, as taught, recommended
and acknowledged by the Church is inseparably
bound up with the existence of Christianity ; I say,
as taught, recommended and acknowledged by the
Church, because only on such a responsibility as
this can any question regarding it be settled by
any reasonable man.
The Church cannot make itself responsible for
anything beside what she teaches, recommends,
acknowledges, and practices; and that is what I
insist on, that is my meaning, when I say the de-
votion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is inseparably
connected with the innermost existence of Chris-
tianity.
Devotion to the most Blessed Virgin Mary, as
taught by the Church, consists in three things:
First. In the reverence, esteem and admiration
of the exalted dignity of the Blessed Virgin.
Secondly. In placing a trustful confidence in
her intercession.
Thirdly and lastly, in cherishing for her a grate-
ful, filial love.
And now, I repeat, all the veneration which is
shown to the Blessed Virgin Mary, as also that
taught and practiced by the Church, is insepara-
ble from the Christian faith. Having confidence
in the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary is
in perfect sympathy with Christian hope; and
cherishing gratitude and love for her is consistent
with the most beautiful harmonies of Christian
love. Veneration for the Blessed Virgin Mary is
in the most beautiful unison with Christian faith.
Such is the subject of the present division of my
subject: the second and third divisions will pre-
sent the consequences deduced therefrom. To this
first subject we will at present devote our chief at-
tention.
Christianity teaches that there is but one God,
that outside of Himself He has not, and cannot
have, any like to Himself; and that this God, be-
cause He can have none like Him either outside
of Himself or near Him, must be worshipped with
a worship which may be shown to Him alone,
and which should not be, and must not be, offered
to any other being. This worship which solely
and exclusively is due to God, we call Adoration.
(Adoratio.) Adoration comprehends the whole of
that worship which is due to God, and to Him
alone. To worship God in spirit, in thought, in
faith, means to think of God what is true in itself
as God deserves that we should believe.
To worship God with the understanding, signi-
fies this: God alone is eternal — from Himself,
through Himself. God alone is all-knowing, all-
powerful, all-good, wise, holy; in other words,
God alone is perfect from everlasting to everlast-
ing. To worship God with a heart of faith, is to
acknowledge that all good comes from God alone,
and can come only from Him, because He is the
source of all that can be or is good, beautiful, and
worthy of love ; and thus in its highest signifi-
cance it is only on God that we can place our
hope; for He alone is Lord of all the heavens,
and all things exist through Him alone; conse-
quently in the last resort all things can be expected
through Him alone. To worship God therefore
signifies to love Him above all things, without
limit; for He is infinitely raised above everything
that exists, infinitely more perfect, more beautiful,
more worthy of love than any other being whether
actual or conceivable.
This, Christians, is the meaning, the theological
signification of the word worship. We can think in
this manner only of God, we can hope in this
wise only in God, it is only God whom we love
after this fashion. And, my dear readers, between
this highest degree of reverence which is due to
God alone and indifference, even when it is not
contempt, mockery, hatred — between these two
extremes, between the highest and the lowest,
there is, if I may so express myself, a great gulf,
a broad space, and between these limits exist
every legitimate, profitable, reasonable degree of
esteem, veneration and love.
God Himself commands us to honor our father
and mother ; God Himself enjoins us to ' Fear God
and honor the king ' ; God Himself by the mouth
of His Apostle publishes the edict: 'Honor him
to whom honor is due ' ; God says to us through
our reason that we should acknowledge and value
worth wherever we find it and according to the
measure in which it exists. Science has its heroes,
civilization its great men and benefactors. Here
we find recognition, esteem, honor, manifested on
every side. But is that worship ? No ; it is not
worship. We honor their merits, but we do not
pray to this or that citizen, to this or that general,
to this or that man of science, or to any one of this
kind ; we place none of them on a like footing
with God; we never take anything that belongs
to God, in order to bestow it on them.
Among these different kinds of merit, what rank,
in the Church of Christ — where in the scale of
civilization, is the place for virtue, for sanctity ?
Manifestly the highest! But, mark well, no claim
can be made on this account for worship. Every
created sanctity is but a very weakly reflected ray
of God's actual or essential holiness. But notwith.
standing this, it will still be in order, in the Church
of Christ, which strives to make her members
holy, that she should honor holiness in those who
have proved their holiness ; that the brothers of
Christ who struggle according to the revealed way,
for truth, righteousness and perfection — that these
Ave Maria.
531
ever, both on account of their sanctity and of the
respectful veneration due to it, should be held
in honor. Only he who is indifferent with respect
to sanctity itself is in a position to be cold and
indifferent to the saints, in the same manner that
he alone does not value or esteem scientific merit
who does not care for science in itself. Therefore,
as I have before asserted, the Church proves itself
to be holy in that she honors the saints, for thereby
she admonishes her children in the most powerful
manner to strive after holiness ; thereby she places
before her children the most perfect examples and
models for their imitation ; thereby she proclaims
aloud that holiness alone has any real value in her
eyes; and this, because it furthers holiness in men.
Now, how will a Christian prize the most Blessed
Virgin Mary in his inmost soul ? Can he even call
himself a Christian without truly reverencing the
most Blessed Virgin on account of the dignity
with which God has invested her, on account of
the holiness of her cpnduct on earth, on account
of the great graces which she has received from
God?
It is a fundamental docrine of Christianity, and
without this fundameutal truth there is no Chris-
tianity, that God's Son, who is one with the Fa-
ther and the Holy Spirit, became man without
ceasing to be God, without suffering any diminu-
tion, injury or breaking oft' from His unchange-
able Godhead ; that the Holy Ghost formed Christ
as man in the chaste virginal womb of the most
Blessed Virgin Mary, without a human father, in
like manner as God in the beginning created
Adam out of nothing; that God's Son took His
human nature and His human soul in the womb
of the Blessed Virgin Mary, that she is thus ac-
cording to His human nature the Mother of Him
who, according to His Divine nature, is truly God ;
not however a twofold Christ in two persons, — one
Christ God, and one Christ man, — no, in two na-
tures, one person : God from eternity, and man in
time, therefore true God and true man at one and
the same time. Therefore we call her the Mother
of God, not as if she had given Him the beginning
and source of His Divinity, — every Christian child
knows that God is from eternity, without beginning
and without end, — but we ^y^^y^^e^Q words, that
she, according to human nature, conceived and gave
birth to Him who according to His Divine nature
is in truth God. We call her Mother of Gad, and
everywhere has she been so named where her Son
has been acknowledged as God. It may well be.
that those who have denied the Divinity of Christ
cannot avoid also denying that she is the Mother
of a Divine Person, — I can understand that; but
it is firmly established that all those who hold fast
to the doctrine of the Divinity of Christ, who have
known what Christ is — these have never denied
this title to Mary.
Meantime, with that chief article of faith,
(chief dogma) of Christianity, which has given
to Mary the titles of Mother of God and of Virgin.
I have given expression to two of the most beau-
tiful words which ever yet were used to describe
a creature, — Mother of God, and Virgin! How
beautiful; Mother and Virgin ! We have here man-
ifestly a wonder of Divine wisdom, power, good-
ness and grace ! Such alone could unite these two
words and give them as a title to a creature.
Yes, truly, Mary is at one and the same time
Mother of God and virgin. With all her privi-
leges and gifts of grace, she yet remains, and will
ever remain, a mere creature — in infinite im-
measurable distance from her Divine Son, from
God ! Never and in no manner whatsoever, even in
any one single point, may we think of Mary as
we think of God, may we hope in her as we hope
in God, may we love her as we love God. No!
she remains forever a creature, a creature only;
and what she is, she is in the fullest significance
of the words, from the free grace and love of God ;
in short, all that she is, she is on account of God,
and of her Son. But all this does not hinder that
she is the most beautiful production of the benig-
nity and compassion of God, that she is the crea-
ture which God out of His own free mercy, with-
out any merit of hers, raised to the highest dig-
nity, to this exclusive dignity, to be the Mother of
God's Son. For it is true, and remaineth true,
forever and ever, that neither before nor since
has God worked the miracle which unites the in-
violate, purest virginity with a mother's fruitful-
ness. It is and remains a truth, that no other
creature has ever been placed in such a relation-
ship to the triune God, to the Father, Son and
Holy Ghost. Therefore we are convinced before,
hand that* God, after He had taken the resolution
freely to elect Mary to this high dignity, to con-
fer upon her such a rank in the Creation, He, as a
matter of course, prepared for her a soul and body
adorned and embellished with all the beauty and
loveliness which any son who had it in his power
would bestow upon his mother.
Mark this well: Christ was the only son
who existed Hbefore his mother, who chose a
mother for himself, who not only chose her, but
who created her! And I ask each one of you
— in so far as you had been able to create
your mother — in so far as the inexhaustible ful-
ness of riches of the Go(ihead had been at your dis-
posal, and you had been able to create a mother after
your own heart: tell me, would you have been
spaf^B^ of these gifts in her behalf ? Would you
not have endowed her with every blessing she was
Ave Maria.
capable of receiving ? Would you not have made
her so holy and beautiful and lovely that you
might have joy in her throughout eternity ? Well
then, God's Son is the Creator, He is the source
of all grace ; He it is who has created us all in
grace, and who therefore, if He will, can give
to each one of us grace, mercy, blessedness — yes,
unbounded blessedness ! And this Son He wills
His Mother to be Queen of heaven. Queen of an-
gels, and of redeemed men ; for this title is due to
her as the Mother of the King of all the redeemed,
of all the blessed.
[to be contintjed.]
Domns Aurea.
The following beautiful lines, from the pen of
Matthew Bridges, an English convert, form one of
a series of metrical paraphrases of the titles of our
Blessed Lady in the Litany of Loretto, modestly
offered by the author as an expression of his "poig-
nant and unmitigated regret for having ever used
bis feeble pen against that holy and Apostolic
Church, which by Divine grace he has lately been
enabled to join, after eight years of labor spent in
investigating her claims, and a desire throughout
that entire period that he might be mercifully
guided aright by the Spirit of God into the fulness
of Divine truth."
Light! Light! Infinite Light!
The mountains melted away:
Ten thousand thousand seraphim bright
Were lost in a blaze of day:
For God was there, and beneath His feet
A pavement of sapphires glow'd,*
As the mirror of glory transcendently meet
To reflect His own abode.
Love! Love 1 Infinite Love!
The lowly Lady of grace
Bows underneath the o'ershadowing l)ove,
Her eternal Son to embrace!
For God is there, the Ancient of Days,
An infant of human years:
Whilst angels around them incessantly gaze,
And nature is wrapt in tears!
Peace! Peace! Infinite Peace!
A golden House hath it found,
Whose ineflfable beauty must ever increase
With immortality crown'd!
For God was there, the Lord of the skies,
Whose loud alleluias ran.
From heaven to earth,— as Emmanuel lies
In the arms of Mary for man!
* Exodus, xxiv, 10.
TnE measure of loving God is to love Him im-
measurably.—>S^. Bernard.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER v.— (Continued.)
The fear that it was indeed a death-bed on
which their kind and warm-hearted host was lying
gained fresh strength from the moment it was
known that he was calling for the priest; and
amongst those red-coated men not a few breathed
inwardly a fervent hope that the cry might be an-
swered and the priest arrive in time. Some were
recalling memories of their youth, and dimly
putting together incidents that seemed to suggest
the fact of Colonel Blake's having at some time
or other been a Catholic ; his mother, they knew,
had been a Protestant, but all the Blakes from
the flood down had belonged to the old Church.
Kevin Blake had been nearly always absent in his
young days; he had been educated in England,
and there he entered the army while a very young
man, and only paid flying visits to Connemara;
since his marriage he had been there more than
during all his previous life; the fact of his having
built a beautiful church on the estate put all
doubt as to his religion — if any ever existed^at
an end ; still, in spite of this strong material wit-
ness, the doubt now rose in some minds as to
whether he had ever been at heart a true Protes-
tant, and whether the attending at church as well
as the building of the church might not have been
the work of his English wife's influence; she was
a good deal younger than him, and he had been
deeply in love wheh he married her ; such things
had happened before.
Meantime that wife now knelt beside him, long-
ing, as she had never longed for any mercy or joy
before, for the arrival of the Catholic priest; she
did not consider what the world would say, or what
scandal it might give ; she did not care : she only
wanted her husband to have this consolation that
he cried for. Her thoughts were too much con-
centrated in anxiety for his life to do more than
revert half unconsciously to the motive which
could at such a crisis have prompted so strange a
request.
The windows of the room stood wide open, let-
ting the mild spring air stream in, with the sun-
shine and the songs of the birds and the scent of
the lilac trees ; it was a lovely day, all full of the
reviving freshness of spring and the velvet soft-
ness of summer ; the sea was calm, scarcely a rip-
pie stirred its surface, the shadows lay warm on
the deep-bladed grass; it seemed a day made for
happiness; but Lady Margaret felt the gladness
of earth and sky only an aggravation of her sor-
row; the bird-notes sounded cruel; the gay sun-
shine mocked her. Was this doctor never com-
ing ! At last the welcome sound of a horse gal-
Ave Maria.
533
loping along the road from Ballyrock was faintly
audible; she went quickly to the window and
watched till it came in sight. " lie will be here
in an instant now, darling! " she said, going back
to her husband's side.
His face twitched with the same painful effort
at speech, and his head moved restlessly on the
pillow. At last a violent etlbrt brought out a sound :
"Fallon?"
, "No, dearest; it is Dr. MacFay," said Lady
Margaret, taking his hand with a look of anguisli.
"Father Fallon could not possibly be here yet;
but he will not be long; Mr. O'Donoghue is gonQ
for him."
The eyes closed, and she fancied that the lips
were moving in silent prayer. What did it mean,
this despairing cry for a Catholic priest! Oh, if
the passionate prayer of a human heart could have
worked a miracle, the space between Ballyrock
and Barrymore would have been annihilated, and
Father Fallon would have stood that moment by
her husband's bedside.
In his stead the doctor was shown in. He was
a clever man in his way, and for a country practi-
tioner had a good deal of experience. Lady Mar-
garet was satisfied that he was quite able to deal
with the case before him ; she had confidence in
his skill and in his honesty; accidents in the
hunting-field were almost of daily occurrence
amongst his widely-scattered clients.
He proceeded at once to bleed the patient — Lady
Margaret, in spite of his remonstrance, remaining
in the room, and even assisting in the operation.
When it was over, she sat down again by the bed,
holding her husband's hand. Dr. MacFay passed
into the the dressing-room, and then went out to
speak to two of the gentlemen who had come up
to get his report as quickly as possible. He signed
to them to come into a room on the opposite side
of the landing.
"Well, MacFay?" eagerly sl^id Major Fitz-
gerald. ■»
"I'm heartily sorry!" said the doctor, with a
hopeless shake of the head.
" It's a very bad business then ? " • . .
" As bad as can be ! " **^^'!^
" But not fatal ? you don't mean that ? " ^
" I do ; he may last out the day ; but he may go
off in an hour ; at any moment, in fact."
No one spoke; the fact had been more or less
looked for from the first, and yet now that it was
announced it came like an unexpected shock.
" Poor Blake ! Poor fellow ! I'm sorry with all
my heart," exclaimed Sir John Carcw.
"Have you told Lady Margaret?" asked Major
Fitzgerald, after they had all three been silent- for
some moments. ..
"No; I have not had the opportunity; I was
thankful she asked me no questions; it will be a
most painful thing to do, and it had better be done
by some intimate friend ; or else by the clergyman,
if he can be got at?"
"He's downstairs; you mean Wilkinson? I
don't think he is the person to undertake such a
mission," said the Major; "you heard our poor
friend has sent for the priest?"
" Who ? Colonel Blake sent for him ! »
"Yes."
"For the Catholic priest? Father Fallon? You
don't mean it! " said the doctor.
Sir John Carew, whether from delicacy or
vexation, here left the room, and proceeded down-
stairs.
"You astound me though!" said Dr. MacFay,
as soon as they were alone; "but how did he ask
for him? He has been speechless all through?"
" I don't know how he did it, or what passed be-
tween himself and Lady Margaret ; but she came
straight from him to give the order that Father
Fallon was to be sent for with all possible haste;
O'Donoghue was there, and volunteered to take
the message."
" Good Heavens, you astonish me ! how long is
it since he set out?"
" Not more than three quarters of an hour,'* said
the officer, pulling out his heavy hunting-watch.
"Then he can't be here for as much longer, if
he were to ride like the wind ; God send he may
be in time ! "
The two men walked towards the door ; as the
doctor opened it, he turned to his companion and
said, in a low tone of confidence:
" Do you know that Blake ought to have been
a Catholic ! I don't believe be was ever anything
else at heart; he evidently wants to die in the faith
now; may God grant him time, and accept the
late repentance ! "
Major Fitzgerald was visibly moved, but he said
nothing.
" Kneel down here, and pray God to have mercy
on a dying man," said Doctor MacFay, laying his
hand on the officer's arm ; " stay here and help the
poor soul, while I go and do what little I can for
his body."
" I'm not the man to give such help ; my prayers
could do him no good; I hardly know how to
pray," replied the other, in a tone of sad humility.
" No more did the publican, and yet he obtained
mercy; do what I ask you. Major Fitzgerald;
kneel down and praj"^ for him ; the time is short,
and every minute may be the price of an eternity."
There was a solemnity in the words and the
manner of the plain ^ountry doctor that could
not be resisted ; he left'^e room, and closed the
534
Ave Maria.
door noiselessly; Major Fitzgerald knelt down
and prayed with something of the publican's
spirit, humbly and with few words, but more fer-
vently than he had prayed since he was a little
child at his mother's knee.
There was great agitation in the library when
Sir John Carew reported what the medical man had
said. Everyone was grieved, as well as shocked.
"I hope his aflfairs are in order," remarked one.
"He will be a great loss to the people about
here," said another.
"He will be a loss to all of us," said a third;
"there was not a better fellow in Ireland than
poor Blake."
"And his poor wife ! "
The sympathy for Lady Margaret was general
and acute; no one could do more than just men-
tion her name; hers was a sorrow beyond the
reach of words or pity. It seemed tacitly under-
stood that Father Fallon would be the person to
break the fatal news to her, and many an honest
prayer went up that he might come in time for
that, as well as for a more momentous need.
" That cannot be Fallon, surely ! " cried some
one as the square figure of the priest, with his
white hair fluttering under his broad-brimmed hat,
came in sight, mounted on Sir John Carew's spir-
ited hunter;— that Sir John should have lived to
see it ! Everyone hastened to see for themselves
whether it could be possible.
"Why, it is not yet an hour since O'Donoghue
started !'» exclaimed Mr. Wilkinson; "he must
have flown; twenty-four miles in fifty-five min-
utes ! it passes belief."
Yet it was Father Fallon, though the baronet's
thorough-bred had not performed the feat alluded
to. Mr. O'Donoghue had met him jogging along
the road, coming precisely to make a sick call at
Barrymore; he made the priest alight and ex-
change horses with him. Father Fallon was a
Tipperary man, and could manage the most fiery
horse that ever bore a saddle ; when he heard the
young Squire's message, he leaped upon Dragon-
fly, struck his heels into the animal's flanks, and
made for The Towers as fast as he could ride.
Doctor MacFay met him in the hall.
"Am I in time?"
"Yes."
"Thank God!"
This was all the greeting they exchanged, as
the medical man conducted the priest to the sick-
room.
Lady Margaret rose, and came forward hastily
to meet the strange visitor.
"I will leave you alone with him," she said;
and though she was still very calm, her lips quiv-
ered, and she trembled slightly.
"Has he spoken since?" asked the priest, in a
whisper.
"Yes; he asked several times if you were com-
ing."
" Oh ! then he is still quite conscious and sen-
sible?"
"Perfectly so."
" You can leave us then ; go and pray for him
until I send for you."
" I will ; I have been praying with all my heart
and soul that you might come in time for him to
speak to you."
• "And God has heard you, my child," answered
the priest.
Lady Margaret hurried out without casting even
a look towards the bed. It was a strange thing to
see the haughty Protestant lady leaving her own
chamber and the presence of her dying husband
at the bidding of a Catholic priest; it never struck
her until long afterwards how strange it was; for
the moment she only thought of obeying ; the spell
of his divine authority was upon her. He had
called her " my child," and she had not resented
the familiarity of the endearing appellation; on
the contrary, it sounded sweetly in her ears, and
fell like a balm on her heart; the first tears she
had shed since this terrible blow, burst from her
eyes as he uttered it.
The doctor, Fitzgerald, and some four or five of
the servants were on their knees on the landing;
Lady Margaret, yielding to an impulse as strong
as that which sent her out amongst them at the
bidding of Father Fallon, knelt down likewise,
leaning her head against the closed door and sob-
bing bitterly. The truth had come to her without
any outward words ; there was no need for any
one to break it; she had heard the message, and
was bowing her head to it as well as she could.
The servants were all crying, and praying with
fervor for the kind master who was going from
them. The sound of their choked sobs and mut-
tered ejaculations — mostly in Irish, — they were
too deeply stirred to pray in any but the mother-
tongue, — were strongly comforting ; but the sounds
were very subdued, as when people feel compelled
to restrain their emotions by some solemn neigh-
borhood or presence. The low tones of Father
Fallon's deep voice were audible from within ; all
knew what was passing; Lady Margaret alone
was ignorant of the precise character of the inter-
view; but she felt that it was sacred as a sacra-
ment. Ten minutes might have elapsed, when a
heavy step was heard hastily approaching the
door.
" Come in, my child ! Come in, all of you ! "
said Father Fallon ; and, laying his hand on Lady
Margaret's head, " Lift up your heart to God," he
Ave Maria,
535
added; "bless His Holy Name; His mercy has
been great to your dear husband."
She rose with a stifled cry, and passed swiftly
to the bedside.
Father Fallon knelt down and began the pray-
ers for the agonizing, while all the assistants
joined, calling on God and His Holy Mother, on
angels and saints, martyrs, patriarchs and proph-
ets, all the blessed ones who had passed in tri-
umph through the dark and narrow gate, to come
and help the dying soul. The birds sang sweetly
through the open windows; the sun was shining.
" Have mercy on him ! Deliver him ! Come to
his assistance ! "
Then a wild cry rang through the house.
" Kevin ! Kevin ! my darling, come back to me I '*
But Kevin had passed away from her forever.
CHAPTER VI.
Six months after her husband's death, Lady Mar-
garet sat, late one afternoon, on the cliffs that
formed the western boundary of the park. She
looked many years older than when we last saw her,
though this might be in some degree the effect of
her sombre black dress and the close-fitting white
crape border of her widow's cap. She had a book
in her hand, which she had taken out with the hon-
est intention of reading ; but after a few vain at-
tempts to concentrate her mind on the words, she
let it have its way, and wander off from the page
before her to that unknown Beyond towards which
her thoughts were forever turning. The only thing
that gave her any rest, that soothed her for the
time being, was to sit as she did now, straining
her eyes away over the ocean. It seemed as if by
gazing and gazing at that far-away horizon she
drew nearer to it, to the mystic brink it sym-
bolized; the blue green line where sky and ocean
kissed seemed like a bridge to the spirit-v^prld
where the loved who have gone before are duell-
ing ; would her patient watch remain always un-
rewarded ? — would the moment never come whgA
that silvery sapphire veil would lift, and let her
snatch a glimpse of the mysterious world behind
it? She gazed, and wondered, and hoped. The
water-music of the waves washing on the shingles
sounded like a sympathetic dirge, tender and
pitiful, a psalm of consolation, a dim, faint echo
of the hymns and canticles that her beloved one
was singing beside the River of Life flowing from
the Great White Throne. Wonderful, unquiet-
hearted ocean! type of man's life and of man's
unresting spirit, ever the same, and ever chang-
ing; now lashed by stormy passions, filling the
earth with "the tumult of thy mighty harmo-
nies " ; now sullen and despondent, now lifted up
in shouts of victory and exultation ; dancing in
wild merriment, or hopelessly complaining; sing-
ing in soft sphere-music, or shrieking in vain
madness; sometimes soothed into a passing calm,
but never at rest, never satisfied ; ever in motion,
journeying on towards that unknown shore where
the stream of Time loses itself in the gulf of Eter-
nity.
[to be continued.]
Rome.
AS SEEN FROM THE STEPS OF SAN GBEGORIO, MONTE
C(ELIO.
BY ELIZA ALLEN STARR.
Here, where Saint Gregory's old monastic home
Fronts Caesar's ruined palaces, nor quails
Before the shafts of age, where never pales
His mother Silvia's nimbus, here is Rome;
The Rome for which I braved mid-ocean's foam,
Mount Cenis and its chasms. Man bewails,
What in the balance of celestial scales
Is less than nothing; for this azure dome
Of heaven itself will fail, yet God remain —
God and His truth — as in the dewy prime
Of His creative cycles. How the wane
Of empire leaves th ' Eternal purpose plain!
For here, where weeds triumphal arches climb,
Rome, in Christ's Vicar, bears the sceptre over time.
Rome, April, 1876.
Lonise Lateau.
a visit to bois d'hainb.
[Continued.]
The services of the physician of Fayt were no
longer required, but the matter could not rest thus.
Whether these Stigmata, these ecstasies, were the
results of natural disease, or proceeded from a
supernatural cause, some more skilful surgeon
must determine. If supernatural, then the Church
must apply the subtle tests of theology, to discover
if they came from the Divine Hand, or were not
some of the innumerable deceits of the devil.
The clergy, especially the clergy of the North,
are very slow to proclaim the reality of a miracle,
— much slower than the laity ; and M. Niels, the
pastor of Bois d'Haine, was not among the most
credulous. Thomas thought it suflicient to be-
hold the Wounds of his Lord ; M. Niels, so those
who know him best tell us, wou*ld not have been
content with so slight a proof; and we may be sure
that he did not bring the matter before the eccle-
siastical authorities until the necessity of so doing
became not only apparent but urgent.
The family of Dechamps, of which the Arch-
bishop of Mechlin is a member, possesses a hand-
536
Ave Maria.
some villa near Menage. Here the Archbishop
came to enjoy a few weeks of repose during the
month of August, 1868, and the result of the inter-
views that he then had with M. Niels and with
Louise was that Mgr. Ponceau, then Bishop of
Tournay, appointed a committee of inquest to in-
vestigate the facts of the case.
The religious department of this committee was
composed of two learned priests— one a Passion-
ist, the other a Redemptorist. Science was per-
sonified by the eminent Dr. Lefebvre, Professor of
Medicine at the University of Louvain. Of the
medical examination, the learned work of that
truly Christian physician is a standing monument.
The theological portion is contained in the writ-
ten reports presented by the clergy to the Bishop,
— reports which will not be fully published until
Louise's death will bring the subject to the direct
notice and jurisdiction of Rome.
During the period of this inquest the miraculous
course of events continued, and several new cir-
cumstances made their appearance. Shortly after
the commencement of the inquest she was sub-
jected to very severe trials; and on Friday, the
18th of September, 1868, one of the priests of the
inquest thought that he had discovered in her
traces of deception. She received his rather
violent reproof with great patience ; and the ver}'-
next Friday the crown of thorns made its ap-
pearance, as if to justify the bride of Christ. Each
Friday the bloody diadem became more and more
defined. Louise suiTered violent pains in her head,
as if she were crowned with a burning circle,
and blood flowed abundantly from tiny apertures.
Ever since then the effects of the invisible crown
have been the inseparable accompaniments of the
Stigmata, although they vary, some Fridays only
producing pain without any traces of bleeding.
Notwithstanding all this, the members of the in-
quest were slow to believe the Divine origin of
these facts ; and thus a year later we find one of
the priests endeavoring to persuade Louise that
these apparent miracles were the work of the Evil
One. Out of obedience, Louise tried to believe
that such was the case, but her heart was filled
with sorrow to think that she was so completely
in the power of the devil. One day of the month
of August, 1869, after hearing a long argument on
this subject, while she was plunged in grief and
bewilderment, suddenly she beheld Our Lord
standing before Tier. His countenance wore an
expression of intense sadness, and at the same
time of great compassion. Louise was not in
ecstasy; she saw Our Lord as we see one another,
and for the first time in all her life of visions she
heard His voice speaking to her. He addressed
her in these words :
"My daughter, why art thou so discouraged?"
No sooner were tliese words uttered than Louise
felt her sadness disappear, her doubts vanish,
never again to disturb the peace of her soul.
The nourishment of the peasantry of Europe is
extremely simple, and at first the charitably in-
clined would be shocked to see the almost entirely
vegetable diet upon which they subsist, for it is
diflicult for the classes reared to depend upon meat
for the support of physical strength to believe that
a diet in which animal products form so slight a
part is really voluntary. Lady Bountiful is fre-
quently astonished to find her kind efforts in se-
curing to her poor a good supply of meat not re-
warded with the amount of gratitude naturally ex-
pected by her. Often the boldest among those re-
ceiving her kind attentions will finally find the
courage to beg to receive less meat and more of
that same black bread which had aroused so much
sympathy. Nevertheless the peasantry in general
have very hearty appetites, and their black bread
disappears rapidly when once within their reach.
Louise, however, was always an exception to this
last; naturally abstemious, she partook but spar-
ingly of any nourishment, even before the begin-
ning of the extraordinary part of her life. After
the apparition of the Stigmata it was impossible
for Louise to eat anything on Friday ; and although
on other days she ate regularly, still it was only
with great effort, and out of obedience to her
mother.
It was also about this period that she began to
exhibit that wonderful indifference to the extremes
of heat and cold which shows that she, being
warmed by the fire of Divine Love, is insensible
to all variations of temperature.
After the Crown of Thorns appeared on her fore-
head, sleep vanished from her eyelids. St. Rose
of Lima worked all day, and with the exception of
three hours devoted to sleep she prayed all night.
Louise does not need even these three hours of re-
pose; her day, spent in household labor, is suc-
ceeded by a night of prayer or of watching the sick.
Her simple room, destitute of any of the appliances
of sleep, tells us very forcibly that when chron-
iclers write that zealous missionaries have jour-
neyed day and night for weeks seeking the salva-
tion of souls, their language is not mere hyperbole,
but that these holy men have been by Divine in-
terposition dispensed from the necessity of the re-
freshment of sleep.
The Feast of the Compassion of Our Lady, March
30, 1871, was the beginning of her long abstinence,
and since then her stomach refuses to accept of
any food. Her family and her medical advisers,
supported by the authority of her spiritual direc-
tors, endeavored to conquer that which they con-
Ave Maria,
587
sidered an alarming symptom; but these last ef-
forts, like the attempts to cure the Five Wounds,
only resulted in torturing poor Louise, her stom-
ach persistently refusing to retain the least parti-
cle of food. And now Louise neither sleeps nor
eats nor drinks; yet with the exception of Friday
she is well, strong, and able to work steadily and
to advantage, and she is not as much exposed to
the inconvenience of occasional unexpected illness
as those who support life under its ordinary con-
ditions.
We New-World Catholics have, unknown to
ourselves, in many respects copied from our im-
mediate surroundings; and one example of this
is a so-called devotion to the Sacred Scriptures —
a certain respect, whose tenacity does not always
resemble that devotion which arouses the clois-
tered religious of both sexes from their midnight
slumbers to chant the praises of the Most High
in the same words employed centuries ago by the
Chosen People of God — that devotion which causes
the cathedrals and convents of the Old World to
re-echo almost unceasingly the inspirations of the
Royal Psalmist. Our devotion rather consists in
obliging our Holy Mother the Church to render
a very strict account of herself to our Douay
Bible, and when she has done this to our satis-
faction we are very proud <5f her, scarcely dream-
ing of her other countless perfections. For us
this increases the difficulty of comprehending
how Louise can continue to exist under these con-
ditions. In vain perhaps would one quote passages
in the life of St. Catherine of Sienna, or the
Lenten fasts of that grand model of a faithful
wife and a widow indeed, St. Catherine Flisca,
or the years of total abstinence from all nourish-
ment so prominent in the remarkable life of the
Swiss hermit, Blessed Nicholas von der Fliie.
The miraculous facts of their lives, although au-
thenticated by Rome, are not scriptural, and we
demand not only to know our religion for "our
own sanctification and our own salvation," but
also in order that we may furnish proofs to those
who refuse to believe the divine origin of the Cath-
olic Church.
In turning the pages of the Old Testament we
often read of public fasts whose completeness and
whose duration was certainly supernatural. To
quote a case of individual fasting, the prophet
Elias by means of the miraculous loaf given him
by the angel journeyed forty days and forty nights
unto the mountain of God. In speaking of John
the Br.ptist, Our Lord once said: "He came to
you neither eating nor drinking." (Matt, xi, 18.)
Our Lord Himself gave us the example of a pro-
longed fast. Some may say that this was a divine
fast, impossible to humanity ; but it seems hardly
necessary to remind the reader that God's eternal
existence being independent of food, fasting is a
thing which cannot be affirmed of it. This fast
was certainly miraculous, but still it was the human
nature of Our Lord that fasted — that nature united
inseparably to the Godhead, that nature which is
sacred. Divine, yet forever human. His reply on
this occasion to the first words of temptation are
worthy of our profound meditation : "'Not by bread
alone doth man live, but by every word which
proceedeth out of the mouth of God." (Matt., iv, 4.)
Louise's sole nourishment for more than five
years has been this Eternal Word, uttered before
all ages, Our Lord Himself, who in the Blessed
Eucharist is now her daily Guest. The Bread of
Angels has deigned to prove to us of this genera-
tion the extreme truth of those words which so
many, even unto this day, find a hard saying, but
which are so full of sweetness to the ear of faith :
" I am the Bread of Life that cometh down from
heaven." " My flesh is meat indeed." (John vi.)
The theological inquest lasted more than two
years, and at its close the established order of the
apparition of the Stigmata was as follows. Thurs-
day night, towards midnight, the wound in her
side opened and bled. This bleeding of the side
was followed by the opening of the wounds in
the hands and feet, which sometimes bled from
both surfaces, sometimes from one only. Early in
the morning the marks of the crown of thorns
made their appearance, and thus at the time at
which she receives Holy Communion, which
every Friday morning is brought to her as Viati-
cum, the stigmatization was complete. By noon
all wounds, save those in the hands, began to
cease bleeding; and at the hour of her ecstasy all
traces of the crown of thorns had usually disap-
peared. This order has since always continued
the same ; if there has been any variation, it has
been so slight as not to be mentioned in an
abridged notice, and there remains but one more
fact to relate. On the fourth of April, 1873, Louise
received a new and painful wound on her left
shoulder, the counterpart of that one caused our
Lord by the burden of the Cross. Thus she can
truly say, in the words of St. Paul : " I bear in my
body the marks of the Lord Jesus" (Galatians,
vi, 17).
[TO BE CONTIKUKD.]
Incredulity seems to be the natural fruit of light
mingled with darkness, and of imperfect knowl-
edge; and perhaps the reason why the times we
live in are so fertile in incredulity is because they
exceed all former times in the number of half-en-
lightened minds.
Letter from Rome.
Rome, July 21, 1876.
Dear Ave Maria.:— There are few Catholics in the
world to-day who do not, from time to time, speculate
on the event of the demise of the present Sovereio^n
Pontiff with a feeling of anxiety as to the turn events
will take in connection with the Church. And there
are many, too, who regard it as a turning-point,
whether for good or evil— we know not— in the history
of the Church. Many prognosticate new woes for the
Church. But these are weak and vacillating creatures,
and they know not of what spirit they are. But without
seeming to derogate from the merit and greatness of
our beloved Holy Father, I will enunciate a principle:
the existence and ultimate triumph of the Catholic
Church are not dependent on the life of one man,
great though he be. Neither are they beholden to the
events of any particular epoch, momentous though
they be. It is an a priori principle, and the a poste-
riori evidence of well nigh nineteen centuries has
brought it out into brilliant relief, that
THE CHURCH MUST EXIST,
and its existence is identical with triumph. Then
why should we be anxious, and troubled about con-
tingencies arising from the death of Pius IX? But
waiving general principles, and confining our observa-
tions to the particular, the life of that man has stamped
the events of the present with an indelible impression,
and the influence thereof will be exercised on the
events of the future. Thirty years of a glorious Pon-
tificate will give a tone to twice thirty years to come.
Do we not at the present day still observe the influ-
ence on the events of the day of
THE PONTIFICATES OF PIUS VI, PIUS VII, LEO XII, AND
GREGORY XVI?
And the influence is good and consoling. They were
great and good Pontiffs, but Pius is greater, even as
his particular mission in this particular age is the
more arduous and more glorious. When was the
Sacred College of Cardinals so compactly united, so
inseparably knit together in a harmony of sentiment
with their Chief, as at the present day? and the Cath-
olics throughout the world have taken up the key-
note given them by their pastors, and Christendom
to-day unanimously proclaims attachment to the See
of Peter as the rock of salvation in the midst of the
uprooting storm. Hence the schismatical projects of
a few Liberals in Rome and Italy, to be actuated on
the death of Pius IX, need excite no great anxiety.
A PROGRAMME OF THE LIBERALS
has of late been secretly making the rounds of the
upper classes of Rome, and the purport of it is this:
the prologue proceeds to relate how the history of
the revolutions of all people proves that civilization
and progress have always been obliged to fight against
political absolutism on one side, andtheocracy on the
other in vindication of those rights which were
wrested from the many by the few — to wit the Roman
Curia. The religious wars of England, Germany,
France and Switzerland prove that an attempt was
made in the past to shake off the yoke of Rome, and
though the people of those countries succeeded in lib-
erating themselves they never could persuade the Pa-
pacy itself to undertake a serious and much-needed re-
form by bringing the Church back to her primitive
institution. So the Papacy still persists in its wicked
career, "favored in its usurpation" by powerful fanat-
ics, " and it has never ceased to curse from the rock
of the Vatican, civilization and progress." Hence a
reform is necessary. It is useless, says the Pro-
gramme, to hope for it from the Papacy, for it is bound
to disorder by the most terrible oaths. Hence the re-
form must be initiated in Rome, and by the Romans,
and this cannot better be effected than by asserting
the right of antiquity to elect their own Bishop, the
Chief Pastor of the universal Church. " Nor by this,"
continues the document, " shall we be wanting in rev-
erence towards that Apostolic See, which, spite of its
manifest deviations, has been surrounded by the Ital-
ian nation with guarantees which still preserve it,
free and respected." This idea of the popular election
of the Bishop of Rome could not hitherto be realized
on account of the Jesuitical faction which impudently
domineers in the Vatican. But thanks to the events
of the 20th of September, the Romans have acquired
their political rights, and now they are in a condition
to vindicate their religious rights. ( !) Therefore, " a
body of Roman citizens penetrated with the ideas
exposed in the Programme, and adhering fully to it
with the view of putting it into effect, propose the
formation of an Association to their fellow-citizens,
with the following conditions: "The conditions are
unimportant, as they only affect the form of enrol-
ment, and the duty of each member to procure new
adherents. But the remarks under the condition are
worthy of notice. Only laics are to figure in the As-
sociation, until Parliament, as it promised in Art. 18th
of the Papal Guarantees, makes a suitable provision
for the " sound part of the clergy." The Association
not having as yet an ofllcial organ, or journal, requests
the members to impress upon the minds of the Roman
people their indisputable right to elect the Bishop
of Rome. "Meanwhile," concludes this bombastic
production, " let it be known, that our society recog-
nizes as Bishop of Rome, and Primate of Christendom,
the actual Pontiff, and when we shall have the major-
ity, we will call the actual electors (the College of
Cardinals) into question, and at the first vacancy of
the Pontifical Chair, we Romans intend to exercise
the right of election." Thus far the Programme. It
is sufficiently important to merit our attention,
though, for the reasons above alleged, we have noth-
ing to apprehend. It is well however to be warned.
Like other insidious designs against the Church, this
one courts the support of the people by promising
them liberty, and the enjoyment of imaginary rights.
The Holy Father, in a recent Brief on the Centenary
of Leguano, accurately describes the method adopted
by the sects in their attacks against the Church, and
he wisely observes how they seduce the Princes with
the pretext of defending their rights and enhancing
their dignity, and the people, by fallacious promises of
liberty and prosperity. The Brief is addressed lo the
Ave Maria.
539
Society of the Gioventrl Cattolica in Bologna, and to
the deputies of the Twenty-Four cities which of old
formed the Lombard League. The Brief is a page
of the philosophy of history, and full of that genuine
patriotism which is founded upon faith, the founda-
tion-stone of Italy's greatest and most imperishable
glories. He says that Frederick Barbarossa aimed at
subjecting all people to himself, by first promoting
disunion among them, that, being thus weakened, he
might the more easily overcome them. Thus too the
Sect which has come into power in this our day. It
HATES HUMAN AND DIVINE AUTHORITY ALIKE,
but it knows full well that it cannot destroy human
authority without using the method of Barbarossa.
" So it excites, foments, increases schisms, and directs
every endeavor to detaching the Bishops from the Sov-
ereign Pontiff, the clergy from the Bishops, and the
people from the clergy." But the spirit of the old and
new persecution is not the same. Barbarossa sowed
discords, and persecuted his opposers, being actuated
by pride and a spirit of plunder. But the Sect is prin-
cipally actuated by a mortal hatred of the Church;
against her every attack is directed, because when she
is removed out of the way, every other authority falls,
being deprived of its proper support. Barbarossa at-
tacked the Church and the people, relying upon his
own arms and upon his own judgment. The Sect, not
having an army of its own, deludes princes with con-
sideration for their majesty and authority, and the
people with promises of liberty and prosperity. But
since the method of the old and new persecution is the
same, though the character be different, and since the
salvation of our ancestors consisted in this, that be-
ing united with the Roman Pontiff to preserve the
faith, they were also his colleagues in defending
his and their own rights; hence with good reason did
the Italians celebrate the event in which, the power of
the tyrant being weakened, Italy's liberty was re-vin-
dicated; and well have the Catholics of Italy to-day
proclaimed to their contemporaries "that no other
hope of salvation, of victory and of
TRUE LIBERTY,
remains, except in union with this Apostolic See,
which alone is able to unite the purposes of all, and
oppose the common forces against any invasion of
errors and potentates. We congratulate you there-
fore," he concludes; "we congratulate your cities,
we congratulate entire Italy^^ because with an illustri-
ous manifestation of joy it- has^ celebrated the Seventh
Centenary of the happy success of the Lombard
League, and of a glory so great for our ^country and
for this Holy See. And we exhort you all, not only
out of respect to our holy religion, but also for your
own tranquillity, and for the real good of Italy, to
make every effort to remain constantly, and with ever-
increasing zeal, united with this centre of Catholic
unity." The Brief bears the date of July 3, 1876, and
is one of the first of the public acts of Pius IX which
bears the unexampled phrase, " in the thirty-first year
of our Pontificate.^''
On the morning of the 15th the authorities paid a
visit to the Franciscans at San Pietro on the Janicu-
lum and announced to them that their convent an 1
goods, movable and immovable, were, from that day
and hour, State property. A.few monks will be left
in the convent to take care of the church, and Bra-
mante's gem of architecture, the Tenipietto, or little
temple, erected over the spot where St. Peter was
crucified.
During the past five and twenty years, the fact of a
State honor being conferred upon a Catholic bishop or
priest was fraught with some suspicion concerning
the recipient, seeing that the relations between the
Church and the State were constantly becoming less
friendly, in consequence of the degeneracy and rapac-
ity of the 1 atter. The Holy Father, however, never
formally discountenanced the acceptance of State
honors among the clergy. Hence it need excite no
surprise that Mgr. de Giacomo, Bishop of Alife, con-
tinued in his incumbency after having accepted the
royal nomination of Senator of the kingdom of Italy.
But it has given no small scandal, and excited the
most hearty disapproval at the Vatican, that he should
visit the Eternal City, and here, in the face of the
Sovereign Pontiff (upon whose charity he lives), enters
the Senate Chamber as Senator, and assist at the de-
liberations. I am far from constituting myself the
censor of a Catholic bishop. The reverence I bear
his character forbids it. But I merely reproduce the
sentiment of his superiors when I state that his con-
duct in this instance is like that of a son who joins
the brigands who robbed his father and himself, and
assists at their nefarious councils. Arthur.
Catholic Notes.
The organ of the famous Old South Church,
Boston, has been sold to the Catholic church at Mil-
ford.
A work by Abb^ Fleury on " The Manners of the
Israelites," published in Paris in 1600, was sold m Paris
recently for $800.
Miss Borie, of Philadelphia, has subscribed $5,000
to St. Joseph's Catholic College, Mill Hill, London, for
the education of missionaries to the colored people of
America.
Lady Herbert of Lea is writing a book on the
position of the wife and mother in the fourth century,
in which she traces the resemblance between the do-
mestic life of the present day and that of the early
Christians.
We return our sincere thanks to Right Rev.
Bishop Mora, Coadjuter to Bishop Amat, and also to
Rev. Father Verdaguer, Rector of the Cathedral of Our
Lady of the Angels, Los Angeles, Cal., for kind favors
rendered the Ave Maria.
Some few of our exchanges disregard the custom
whicb prevails everywhere of giving proper credit for
borrowed matter. When we like a piece well enough
to copy it, we consider it worth crediting as well, es-
pecially if it is of any length.
The Religious of Jesus and Mary, Lauzon, C. E.,
5JfO
Ave MaHa.
desire to express their t^ratitude to " A Toun;^ Friend,"
Philadelphia, for a contribution for the erection of their
new Chapel. They assure the donor of a large share
in the prayers of the community for the intentions
specified.
The death is announced of Bernadette Soubirous,
who was favored by the miraculous Apparition of the
Blessed Virgin at Lourdes, France, in the year 1858.
Bernadette was then in her 14th year. She de-
parted this life at a convent at Nevers, France, which
she had entered as a nun.
A sumptuous work on " The Antiquity of the
Likeness of Our Blessed Lord" is in the press in Lon-
don. It is illustrated with 12 photographs, colored as
fac-similes, and 50 engravings on wood, from original
frescoes, mosaics, paterae, and other works of art of
the first six centuries, by the late Thomas Heaphy.
Rev. Father Driscoll, late pastor of St. Joseph's.
Church, Troy, N. Y., died in that city on the 5th inst.
The deceased was seventy-two years of age, and for
many years was engaged in missionary labors in differ-
ent sections. For fifteen years past he has been a hard-
working and much respected pastor in Troy. It. I. P.
A Protestant missionary to India, a Miss Car-
penter, testifies that " Christianity, far from progress-
ing in the East under the instruction of the Protestant
missionaries, is relapsing in every direction into idola-
try, save where the old long-established Catholic mis-
sion houses implanted among the people have taken
hold of their affections."
The solemn ceremony of receiving the veil took
place at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, Kenwood,
N. Y., on the Feast of St. Ann, July 26th, at which the
white veil was bestowed upon Misses Annie S. Noonan,
Eleanor Hurson, and Laura Garrett, by the Rev. Au-
gustine Brady, C. S. P., Mr. Augustine M. Noonan
being Master of Ceremonies.
The coronation of Our Lady of Cergnac was
lately performed with great solemnity at Rodez,
France. An immense multitude was assembled to
witness the ceremony. The enthusiasm reached its
climax at the appearance of the Apostolic Nuncio
and of the Cardinal Archbishop of Paris, Monsignor
Guibert. The entire city was illuminated, and flags
bearing the pontifical coat of arms were seen every-
where. Eight Archbishops and Bishops, and the Rt.
Rev. Abbots of the Premonstratensian Abbey of Frig-
olet and of the Trappist Monastery at Aiguebeile
were present.
Quite recently two very old manuscripts have
been found of "The Imitation of Christ," the au-
thorship of which is so much disputed. They
seem to prove that John Gerson is the true author.
The first manuscript contains the original text of
the work, bearing on the title-page the following in-
scription : Joannis Gerson libellus de Imitationc Christi.
Its origin dates from the second half of the 12th
century, and was copied shortly after the appearance
of the original edition. The second manuscript is a
translation called Lombarde (the vernacular of Lom-
bardy). It is the oldest copy of this translation.
It is a well-known fact that the Catholics of
Bosnia have abandoned the iijsurgents in Turkey,
preferring the rule of the Sultan to that of the Czar.
Although depredations are now committed by the
Turkish irregular troops— an armed mob, dangerous
even to their own masters— the Ottoman Government
is responsible for these outrages only in so far as it was
too eager to place arms in the hands of such law-
less bands. Wherever law and order prevail,
Catholics enjoy the most perfect liberty in the domin-
ions of the Sultan. In Russia, on the other hand, the
persecutions and massacres — even cannon being used
—are instigated by the Russian Government, which
aims at the total extinction of the Catholic religion
within the limits of the Empire. The Fresse, of Vienna,
lately published the solemn protest of a number
of notable Catholics against the annexation of Bosnia
to Servia.
From Los Angeles, Cal,, we learn that Catho-
licity progresses apace. The new Cathedral of Our
Lady of the Angels is said by a traveller from the East
to be one of the finest buildings west of Chicago, the
inside of which presents a beautiful appearance. The
old Cathedral building is at present used as a church
for the Spanish inhabitants of the city. St. Vincent's
College, under the presidency of Rev. Father O'Flynn,
assisted by other priests of the Congregation of the
Mission, presents superior advantages to young men
desiring a good education; while the Academy under
the charge of the Daughters of Charity, Sister Scho-
lastica, Superior, offers equal facilities to young ladies.
The Daughters of Charity also have charge of a fine
hospital at Los Angeles, Sister Ann, directress, and
conduct other educational and charitable institutions
throughout the diocese, notably those at Santa Cruz
and Santa Barbara. The Sisters of the Most Holy and
Immaculate Heart of Mary have an. asylum and an
academy at San Juan Bautista, an academy and novi-
tiate at Gilroy, and have established houses of their
Order at San Louis Obispo and other places. The pop-
ulation of Los Angeles is now about 16,000, and is rap-
idly increasing by settlers from the East.
The death is announced of Rev. Father Hass-
lacher, S. J., who breathed his last in the professed
house of the Jesuits in Paris, on the 5th of July, after
having received all the consolations of our holy relig-
ion. Rev. Father Hasslacher was born in 18L0; heat
first entered the medical profession, but in 1840 he be-
came a member of the Society of Jesus, and made his
solemn vows on the 15th of August, 1854. When the
Order was restored in Germany, Rev. Father Hass-
lacher was one among the first who labored zeal-
ously in the extensive and richly-blessed German
missions. Amiable and social in his conversation,
faithful and zealous in the pulpit and confessional, he
was beloved by all classes of society. His spiritual
conferences, conducted with profound erudition and
winning charity, secured him immense success,
chiefly among the higher classes in the large cities
of Germany. Many a wandering and erring soul has
been by his earnest appeals led to the path of virtue.
Father Hasslacher afterwards became Superior of the
tdve Maria.
541
German missions in Paris, which institute, under his
able management, is in a most flourishing condition.
The usual Grand Procession (Grosse Procession)
of the 19Lh of July in Munster, Westphalia, took place
this year with extraordinary solemnity. Tlie historical
reason of this procession is the great plague called
*'the black death," which raged in Munster during
the year 1350, when 11,000 human beings fell victims to
the terrible scourge. The plague again made its ap-
pearance in 1383, carrying oft' 8,000 men in six months.
Two years later a terrible fire destroyed half the city,
laying 400 houses in ruins. As a commemoration of
this fire and of the preceding plagues, a grand pro-
cession was instituted to take place on the day follow-
ing the Feast of the Holy Relics. Every week a sol-
emn high Mass, with Benediction, is also celebrated
in the Cathedral and six principal parish churches.
These Masses are called pest Masses, in which prayers
are said to be spared from the scourges of plague, fire
and war. The provincial school-board had for the
first time, since Munster came under Prussian govern-
ment, withheld the suspension of classes during this
day, for the higher schools. But as classes did not
commence before 8 in the morning, and the procession
commenced at 5)^, the good young students, carry-
ing their school-books, took part in the procession,
and went to class afterwards at the appointed time.
The procession moved through the entire city, and
Benediction was given in all the parish chiirches. The
last ranks of the grand procession re-entered the Cath-
edral at 11 a. m.
New Publications.
Margaret Roper; or, The Chancellor and his
Daughter. By Agnes Stewart. Baltimore: Kelly,
Piet & Co.
We always read with pleasure any account which
bears witness that truth and the love of truth can be so
firmly established in a human soul as to form, so to
speak, its ruling passion. A man who so reverences
the dignity of his own soul, so realizes the value of
that power by which he may unite himself to Christ,
the source of all truth— nay the Truth itself— as to
shrink from a lie, because he believes it to be the bane
of his essential being, such a man is rare in any age;
poor human nature is always seeking to compromise
matters when the attestation of truth in its sublime
simplicity would interfere with its comfort, with the
chains it hugs under the name of lawful indulgence
of the needs of the body.
In one shape or other, the battle of the temporal
with the spiritual is ever being fought in every human
soul, and the supremacy, alas! is too often accorded
to the interest of the former. The contrary to this is
and always has been exceptional; and this it is that
invests with a peculiar interest the life of Sir Thomas
More, a man who was no stoic, but endowed in even
more than a usual measure with that loving heart
which forms the charm of domestic life. His acknowl-
edged talents, his cheerful humor, his generous dis-
position, won him golden opinions from every rank of
men; so amiable was he, that few might have guessed
at court or in society that a soul so courteous, so bland
was by its practical union with Christ as firm as a rock
on all questions where * truth' was involved. But
More had early learned to practice self-denial; fasting,
hair-cloth, the discipline, were his familiars; he knew
how to keep the body in subjection; he knew that as
inevitable a law rules the being of man as that which
directs the stars in their course. His master, Henry
Vin, gave promise in his youth of becoming a Chris-
tian character; the mere practice of self-indulgence,
at first of innocent gratification, innocent but self-
willed and uncontrolled, made him what he afterwards
became. Gratification — mere habitual self-gratifica-
tion— growing by what it fed on, in the absence of all
restraint produced a monster who rivalled Nero or
Caligula in his cruelties; and among the horrors he
committed he sacrificed his friend the Lord Chancellor,
whom he had loved in his youth, simply because that
friend would not sanction the supremacy of the tem-
poral power.
Such a history contains a lesson peculiarly adapted
to the present day; because, although in another
shape, still the same struggle continues ; and every-
one in gome shape or other is called upon to record
his vote in favor of the supremacy of the temporal or
the spiritual. The book now before us records one
vote in particular, though more than one are inci-
dentally introduced; the letters of More are the
most interesting portion of the volume ; and these treat
of subjects educational and other, which also bear on
many topics of the present day, and which men would
do well to study; as for example the following (p. 11):
" What man, be he ever so old or learned, is always
so constant as not to be elated with the tickling of
of vainglory? For myself, I consider it so hard to
shake from us this plague of pride that we ought
the more to endeavor to do it from our very infancy.
I think there is no other cause why this mischief doth
stick so fast to us, but that it is ingrafted in us even
by our nurses as soon as we have crept out of our
shells, fostered by our masters, nourished and per-
fected by our parents, whilst no one proposeth any
good to children but they at once bid them expect
praise as the reward of virtue, whence they are so
used to esteem much of praise, that seeking to please
the greater number, who are always the worst, they
are ashamed to be good with the few."
Much more to the same efi"ect follows; but we must
refer the reader to the book itself. He will therein
find it practically demonstrated that virtue is the re-
sult of right application of principle— not a chance
enthusiasm. Truth is invariable, and esteem for it
comes by practice of it until practice forms a habit, a
habit which is part of ourselves; pride and luxury
are fearful impediments to its recognition.
How much the unbelief of the present day arises
from the universal struggle for riches and renown is
a question Avhich is naturally suggested on reading the
life of one who trained himself to rise superior to them
both. It is a question we do not propose to answer.
We believe suggestions which give rise to thought
more useful, in many cases, than working out fully
542
Ave Maria.
the thoughts themselves. It is in this view we recom-
mend the reading of the boolc the name of which
heads this notice; it is full of suggestive matter fitted
to the times in which we live. The fiction with which
it is interwoven is intended to bring out the character
of the heroine; of whom, as the authoress says in her
preface, very scant records exist. This it does, — but
still we prefer the latter portion of the title to the
former; for the part which Margaret Roper bears in
this volume is, though interesting, far inferior in
every respect to that borne by her noble-hearted fa-
ther, and in fact the work derives its chief value
from its connection with him.
The Ccecilia for August is more than usually in-
teresting. We are glad to notice that the work of re-
form in church music is making steady progress both
in England and Ireland as well as in America, and that
Prof. Singenberger's works have called forth such un-
measured praise from Prof. Butterfield in the London
Tablet. We trust our American church choirs will
not be backward in recognizing their merit and
adopting them for general use where the more compli-
cated works of Witt, Stehle, Greith, and others are
impracticable. The principal articles in the present
number of the Ccecilia are: "Principles for Church-
Music Schools"; a continuation of "Church Music
and the Liturgy"; "Education of Catholic Church
Musicians, Directors and Organists"; "Letters on
the Plenary Indulgence accorded the members of
the American St. Csecilia Society " (Nov. 22) the London
Tablet on American Church Music; Correspondence,
Criticisms, etc. The music accompanying the number
is a Salve Regina by F. Surgiano, one by F. Koenen, two
Veni Creator by Singenberger— all for mixed voices.
Received.— The Manhattan Monthly, Catholic
Record, and Rosary Magazine, for August. We are
unable for want of space to publish the contents or
give a notice of these periodicals.
Obituary.
We regret to announce the death of Rev. P. M.
Doyle, of the diocese of Pittsburgh, who departed this
life on the 21st of July, at Vandalia, Illinois, in the 45th
year of his age. Father Doyle studied at St. Michael's
Seminary, and finished his theological course at Cin-
cinnati, where he was ordained in January, 1854. Since
that time he labored in the missions of Butler, Arm-
strong, and Huntingdon counties, until within a few
months, when his health failed, and while seeking its
restoration, death came to his relief at the above-men-
tioned place. Father Doyle's remains were brought to
Freeport, and interred in the cemetery attached to St.
Mary's Church, where other members of the family
rest. As many of the Rev. Clergy as could be present
assisted at the solemn funeral obsequies. Solemn High
Mass was sung by Very Rev. J. flickey, assisted by
Rev. R. Phelan as deacon, and Rev. J. E. Reardon as
subdeacon. Very Rev. J. Hickey delivered an appro-
priate and feeling panegyric.
It is our painful duty this week to publish the
demise of Mr. John Alexis Small, a native of Balti-
more, Md., but for some time past residing at Hollis-
ter, California, where he had kindly volunteered his
services in favor of the Ave Maria among his ac-
quaintances. Mr. Small died July 24th, at the early
age of 26 years, leaving a young wife and a large circle
of friends to mourn his early death. A requiem Mass
was celebrated at Holy Cross Church, Hollister, on
the 27th of July, whence the remains were taken to
Calvary Cemetery. ♦ Requiescant in pace.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart.
Report for the Week Ending August 5th.
Letters received, 124; New members enrolled, 104.
The following intentions have been recommended to
the prayers of the Association: Health for 86 persons
and 1 family; Change of life for 20 persons and 2 fam-
ilies; Conversion to the faith for 15 persons and 3
families; The grace of perseverance has been asked
for 7, and of a happy death for 14 persons— some of the
latter are in a very low state of health; Particular
graces have been solicited for 5 priests and 6 religious;
The grace of a religious vocation for 8 persons; Tem-
poral favors for 30 individuals, 4 families, 6 communi-
ties, 1 congregation, 2 schools, and 1 asylum ; Spiritual
favors for 25 individuals, 5 families, 6 communities and
2 schools. The following intentions have been speci-
fied: The safety of several friends and relatives of some
of the Associates, who have undertaken dangerous
journeys; Several sodalities; Success and resources
for the building of a convent; The same for a chapel;
Several Protestants, who have applied for member-
ship in the Association and are wearing the medal of
our Lady; A favor which will be greatly conducive to
the spiritual welfare of several persons; Protection for
2 young men whose occupation is very dangerous;
Several "widows and orphans; Good crops for several
farmers; Success of 26 clerical students; Two ladies
teaching a Catholic school recommend themselves,
and also solicit an increase of pupils for their school;
The safety of some married ladies; Success in several
undertakings; Employment for a lady; A priest of the
Society of Jesus asks the prayers of the Associates for
the cure of his eyes.
FAVORS OBTAINED.
"Thank God! the property in dispute has been as-
signed to us. The opposing claimant threatens to
prosecute again, though in last week's experiment he
has sacrificed advantages he cannot regain." "I
sent you word about my sister, who had been out of
the Church for years. I am most happy to write you
that she returned in the month of May. I do believe
God had mercy on her. She died on the 23d of this
month. 1 believe she was sorry for her past life, and
we are more than grateful, for if there ever was a
miracle it was my poor sister's return to the Church."
"Thanks be to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and
Mary for the reform of life of a gentleman who has
since joined the temperance society. Also for the
happy death of another, and for the reconciliation of
a mother with her daughter." " Some time ago I
asked prayers for a wayward husband, a hard case;
yesterday he went back, repentant, and promises to
be good hereafter, with God's help." "Please re-
turn thanks to our Holy Mother— my cough is almost
gone and my sight is indeed a great deal better."
The following extract is from a letter of one who was
induced to try the effects of the miraculous water
after witnessing the cure of a friend by its use:
"Your favor of the 19Lh, and the Lourdes water fol-
lowing, was received yesterday. At the time I re-
ceived it, Willy was terribly sick; he could not lie in
bed, and had to sit in a rocking-chair with his feet
propped up, in which position he had been for the last
two weeks. I ^ave him some of the Lourdes water to
drink, and five minutes had not elapsed when he arose
of his own accord, walked through the room in which
Ave Maria,
543
he was, into his bedroom, to our astonishment, as he
had to be carried before, being perfectly helpless. I
am fully convinced as to the miraculous powers of
that celebrated water."
OBITUARIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: James Mont-
FOKT, of Grand Valley, Ohio, who died July 17th.
James McNamaka, of Albany, N. Y., who died some
time ago.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C. 8. C, Director.
ithil5ren'$ Department.
Child-Martyrs 4)f Japan.— (No. A.)
MADELEINE AND HER SON LOUIS.
A Christian lady, named Madeleine, was taken
and condemned to death for her faith — her little
son, and several other Christians being with her.
The name of the child was Louis, which seems to
have been as favorite an appellation with these
Eastern children of the Church as it is with the
Catholics of Europe, by whom St. Aloysius (or
Louis) Gonzaga is so much honored and beloved ;
perhaps these people even appreciated more fully
the unique character of this great Saint, so child-
like in its simplicity, yet so austere and wholly
detached from earthly honors and enjoyments.
On arriving at the place where they were to suf-
fer, Madeleine was fastened to a cross. Her son
stood near, waiting his turn ; then, as no one no-
ticed him, he came forward and presented him-
self to the executioners. They looked at the child
with surprise, hardly willing to take him at his
word, while he seemed to consider it a matter of
course that he should be crucified also.
" My son," said a bystander, " are you not afraid
of death, now that you see it close at hand ? "
"No," said the lad, his steadfast eyes fixed on
his mother; " I fear nothing if I may die with my
mother; I desire nothing but to die with her."
He was roughly seized by the executioners, fast-
ened to a cross with thongs, and it was planted
directly facing the one on which his mother hung,
patient, and full of courage, to suffer all for God.
In tying Louis, tlie men drew the thongs so cruelly
tight they cut deep into the tender flesh of the
child, and an involuntary cry escaped him. The
pathos of the cry was so heart-rending, wliile the
child was so evidently striving to suppress every
manifestation of the intensity of his torture, that
the presiding official himself was moved to tears,
and commanded the ligatures to be relaxed a
little.
Mother and son hung there on their crosses,
their eyes fixed on each other, and each beholding
the gradually failing strength of the other, yet
neither losing fortitude for one moment, either on
account of their own pains or at the sight of the
bodily anguish of the other. There were no weak
plaints, nor even appeals to Heaven for help, in
words,— but, from time to time, Madeleine would
utter some brave, hopeful words. " My son," she
said, " soon, very soon now, we will be at the gates
of heaven ; keep up your courage ; say to the last :
'Jesus, Mary!'" and the failing voice of the
child would respond, each time more feebly, but
not less cheerfully, " Jesus, Mary ! " Doubtless an-
gels from above waited there joyfully and admir-
ingly for the parting souls, and perhaps with holy
envy watched these mortals sharing in that hidden
treasure which, said a saint, "heaven had not,
and our dear Lord came on earth to seek — the
royal stole of suffering." The bystanders wept
with compassion, but the mother and child wept
not.
How long they hung is not stated, but at last
one of the executioners approached Louis with a
lance, and made an attempt to pierce him in the
side; but the stroke was an awkward one, and
merely made a slight flesh wound, glancing oft*
from the ribs. But if it spared the heart of the
son it pierced that of the mother. She was agon-
ized with fear that the touch of the sharp steel
and the coming of the last decisive moment might
break down the resolution of the boy ; disregard-
ing all but that, she summoned up strength to say,
with inspiring energy: "Louis, my son, courage
— courage to the end; say once more: 'Jesus,
Mary!'"
Her fears were groundless, however. The boy,
with astonishing coolness, received the sudden and
wholly unexpected attack; not letting a cry escape
him this time, nor one tear; his face showed no
change of feature nor token of dismay, and he
calmly watched and waited, while the executioner,
with a firmer hand, poised his lance, and taking
better aim, gave him a mortal stroke, the steel
piercing the slender body through and through.
Innocent boy! like a lamb he was sacrificed and
died; like our Lord, he "made no plaint, and
opened not his mouth," and, like our Lord too, he
died on a cross, in the presence of his mother, who,
however, happier than that great Mother of Sor-
rows, had not long lonely years to wait in exile, but
soon followed him to eternal glory.
MARTYRDOM OF SEVERAL CHILDREN AND MOTHERS.
In a little town near Meaco a number of Catho-
lics were burnt alive on the same day. Conspicu-
ous in this glorious band were little Rene, with his
BU
Ave Maria.
mother, Marie ; lie was not three years old ; Benoit,
an infant of two years, in the arms of his mother,
Marthe; Lucy, three years old, with Messie, her
mother. But what attracted the gaze of the multi-
tude was a lady of the highest rank named Thecla,
with her five children. She held another little
Lucy, of the same age as the first, in her arms ;
Thomas and Francis were on her right and left
hand, and the two others were fastened to one cross,
close to her.
They were left attached to their crosses till the
close of the day; and, when darkness gathered,
the wood piled about them was set on fire. As
soon as the flames mounted, the spectators beg*an
to cry aloud, the executioners to yell, and the mar-
tyrs to chaunt hymns ; over all the tumult, the air
resounded with the Holy Name of Jesus. At first
all was confusion, and the smoke hid the martyrs
from sight, but presently the pile burnt with a clear
light, the noise was hushed, and the martyrs were
seen dying with wonderful tranquillity, hardly
any of them exhibiting any physical contortion or
mark of apparent suffering ; the eyes of many of
them were uplifted to heaven, as if in rapture they
beheld angels bearing the crowns prepared for
them.
It was remarked that the poor mothers gently
caressed the faces of the infants they held in their
arms, to keep them from crying out. The firm-
ness displayed by the other children, who were
bound to crosses themselves, though hardly past
infancy, was wonderful ; the eyes of many of these
were bright and laughing, their countenances se-
renely cheerful, and giving no signs whatever of
suffering. The most remarkable point of all was,
that of this numerous band, old and young — men,
women, and children of all ages — who were con-
sumed in this mighty pyre, not one made any
attempt to escape, though they were, purposely,
so slightly attached to their crosses that they
could have fled from them if they willed to do so
on feeling the ardor of the flames ; but they knew
this would be taken as the tacit renunciation of
their faith, so one and all died heroically, look-
ing to heaven alone, and despising pain and fear.
This martyrdom took place October 7th, 1619.
Guards remained on the place for a week to
prevent the Christians from collecting the relics
of the martyrs. The Christians, however, man-
aged to elude the vigilance of the soldiers, and
without caring for the danger to which they ex-
posed themselves they collected nearly all that re-
mained of the martyrs' bones.
It was said that many wonderful things hap-
pened during the night of the 7th, among others
that there was brilliant radiance in the air above
the place where the holy ashes rested, and a beau-
tiful star floated in this radiance, beheld alike by
the Christians and the pagans. Whether this was
so or not, it is certain the invincible courage of
the whole of this band of martyrs, and the won-
derful joy they manifested during their fiery trials,
was a matter of astonishment to all who were
present.
Most touching details were preserved regarding
Thecla and her five children. She was, as already
noticed, a lady of the highest rank. Catholics
and pagans alike were touched with compassion
and amazement by her heroic bearing and tender
love for her children ; love /or their souls, be it no-
ticed, overcoming her natural affections. When
she descended from the vehicle which had con-
veyed them to the place of execution, she folded a
rich mantle she had brought about her person,
screening herself from the gaze of all, with such
delicate Christian modesty that the rudest pagan
was silenced and abashed.
Being tied to her cross, but in such a way as to
leave her able to clasp her youngest child in her
arms, she turned now to one of her children, now
to another, with tender smiles and loving words
CDCouraging them to be faithful to the cruel end.
Two of her children, as has been said, faced her ;
there was a boy named Peter and a girl named
Catherine. The latter, when half burnt, called
out: "Mother, mother, I can hardly see you any
longer!"
" Child ! dear child ! " came the tender response,
through the crackling of the flames, " call on
Jesus and Mary — ask them to help you — yet
only a little while, and we will be with them to-
gether in Paradise."
Meanwhile the torment of the fire had reached
to her own vitals, but even in her dying agonies
she thought only of her little Lucy, whom she
held in her arms ; she soothed the babe with ten-
derest caresses, wiped away its tears with her
scorched fingers, and clasped it so closely in a
dying embrace that the two bodies were found in-
corporated into one mass of cinders in the ashes
of the funeral pile. Happy mother, who honored her
God by so beautiful a sacrifice, and who died for
Him as many deaths as she offered up to His glory
children dearer than her own life to her! May
not this Japanese lady be justly compared to the
noble Roman ladies, Felicitas and Symphorosa,
saints of the primitive days of the Church, since,
like them, she hesitated not to sacrifice her chil-
dren on the altar of the Cross, and looked on them
consuming in the slow tortures of a fiery death,
without murmuring or showing one sign of grief
for a fate to human and natural affection so pite-
ous and so awful ?
[to be continued.]
AVE MARIA.
Menceforth all genef\a.tion3 shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., AUGUST 26, 1876.
No. 35.
"Behold thy Mother."
FROM THE GERMAN OF REV. P. ROH, S. J.
(Continued.)
Bethink you now what it is that the Son of God
has wrought for such a Mother, and I need not
further enlarge on the doctrine of' the Immaculate
Conception ; namely, that her soul from the first
moment that God- created it was blessed, and
gifted with a peculiar grace, a supernatural holi-
ness, even as were the souls of Adam and Eve at
their creation, and as ours would be if these our
first parents had not sinned. But because our first
parents lost or flung away from them original
righteousoess, we are born not only as mere natu-
ral beings but also with a nature which sin has
corrupted. We have the properties of human na-
ture, but we no longer possess the supernatural
dowry of sanctity by which we were rendered
capable of supernatural blessedness. Had we
been born in a state of righteousness, we were
through God's love destined beforehand to super-
natural blessedness; now, on the contrary, the
being born again, that work of sanctifying grace
presented to us in the Sacrament of holy Bap-
tism, only as a result of the merits of Christ, is the
first means whereby we become capable of loving
God with a divine, supernatural love.
It is therefore by no means an exaggeration if
the Church has always believed, and has at length
declared it to be an article of faith, that this
dowry of sanctifying grace was imparted to the
Blessed Virgin immediately on the creation of her
soul ; therefore at her conception, because she was
destined and elected by God to be the Mother of
our Redeemer, that this divine grace was conferred
upon her by virtue Of the merits of her future Son,
while since then the same is imparted to us first
in Baptism. In very truth it was a great happi-
ness for Mary that she never found herself in a
state outside of grace ; that she never was exposed
to the anger of God ; that she was ever beautiful,
and from the very first moment of existence was
well-pleasing to God. O yes, that was a great
happiness; but it was a grace, a grace granted to
her not from her merits, but on account of the
merits of her Son. However, when we consider the
matter closely, she may be said to have some pre-
tension to this distinction. For we have contrib-
uted nothing towards the accomplishment of the
work of our redemption. "When we ourselves come
under consideration with respect to the Redemp-
tion, it is as debtors, as sinners; the Blessed Vir-
gin, on the contrary, though not indeed a redemp-
tress in the sense in which Christ is Redeemer —
though she has not blotted out our sins through
her suffering and death — that indeed she has not
done: that Christ alone has done — yet it is not the
less true that she performed a real part in the work
• of Redemption. Christ is for us all a Saviour ; yes,
Christ alone is our Redeemer; from Him and
through Him we expect everything; but it is not
the less true that God, so to speak, gave us this Re-
deemer through Mary. As a child, He rested
on her heart. He was nourished at her bosom ; on
account of her Son and our Redeemer she left her
native land, she underwent exile and sorrow, she
had to bear all the persecution and mockery
which her Son suffered; in Mary's heart was
echoed every hardship and bitterness that her Son
had to bear; and already in the earliest days
Simeon through his prophecy plunged the sword
into her mother heart when he said to her: "This
Child is set for the rise and fall of many in Israel."
She knew very well what Israel's prophets had
said ; she knew His future sufferings ; and if she
had also her joys, yet must this pain, this fear, I
will not say make her unhappy, but in a peculiar
sense prepare her whole life for a sacrifice in the
service of love and of self denial.
On these facts are grounded the love, the hope,
546
Ave MaHa.
the trust which we Christians have in the most
Blessed Virgin. Christian hope springs from Chris-
tian faith. Even as faith tells us that God alone
is the highest good and the Source of all good, so
it also tells us that we may place our hope alone
in God, that we may not expect anything good
which has not its source in God alone, and that
we expect this good solely and exclusively through
the merits of Christ, because He alone has pur-
chased for us all the good which comes to us, sin-
ners, from God. But this Christian hope which
refers us to God as the source and cause of our
blessedness, and to Christ as the only Redeemer,
tells us also that our dear God, in order to grant
our wishes, in order to content our needs, requires
our free, spontaneous action, our co-operation.
Our dear God provides in one way for lifeless na-
ture and for animals, in another for men. He re-
quires no co-operation from them whose action
cannot be spontaneous. From us, as free, reason-
able creatures, God requires more; thence the
proverb : " Help yourself and God will help you " ; *
which means : Do what you yourself are able to
do, and God with His almighty power will come
to your assistance when your own power and abil-
ity are exhausted. Now, if we think of it, how ex-
alted is the aim for which we should strive, how
difficult is it to us to be real, true Christians in
thought, wishes, desires, and actions, in all our in-
tentions and endeavors, then will this truth send
a glow of warmth to our hearts. I know right
well that when I do what I can, God will do the
rest; but. the word, do what thou canst, still re-
mains a hard and difficult word, and seldom will
a man be able to say, I have done everything I
could.
See, then, the reason why God has not so placed
individual men, in this life, that each one should
have his own single, separate place; but that,
on the contrary. He has united them in commu-
nity— in families, in congregations, in State and
Church — that one may come to the help of the
other. And shall it be inconsistent with the Chris-
tian hope I feel in God that I cherish and nourish
in my heart the thought that one Christian may
say to another: 'I know well that I must pray,
that I must pray in the right manner, persever-
ingly and with interior recollection, devoutly pray :
and that when I have done all that is in my power,
that the dear God will for such faithful, meritori-
ous prayer, give me all I need.' But, continuing
to speak, I may say: ' But I feel that in my prayer
I am often much distracted, that such distractions
lay hold of me in real earnest, and I constantly
* Translator's Note.— The English proverb runs:
"God helps those who help themselves."
feel as if my prayer were not worthy to approach
to the throne of the All-Holy, therefore help me to
pray, pray with me and for me." In saying
this, is there anything against Christian faith,
against Christian trust. Christian" hope in God ?
I see in it only an act of genuine Christian humil-
ity. The man who thus solicits his fellow-men for
prayer to God is far from being self-satisfied, and
that I think is well pleasing to God. It has ever
been thought lovely to see a child ask a sister or
or a brother who has behaved better than himself
to say a good word for him to his father or mother ;
this could not have displeased either father or
mother, and just as little has it displeased the
head of a house when a daughter or a son ad-
dressed the mother to plead for her intercession
with the father in some aflair of the heart, or to
effect reconciliation and bring back peace.
But it is exactly on this point that an unworthy
artifice has been used — the artifice, namely, of
bringing a pitiful play of words into circulation in
order to calumniate the Catholic Church. It is
truly incredible, but yet true, that it has been said
that Catholics worship Mary and the other saints!
How has that arisen ? For more then three hun-
dred years already have we Catholics protested,
millions and millions of times, against this being
the case; and yet we see the accusation that
we Catholics are absolutely idolaters continually
repeated in catechisms, in school-books, and in
other forms. What is the proof of this ? Can you
see into my heart? Do you believe that you can
perceive what I think in regard to God and Mary,
and that in spite of my protest to the contrary, and
of my sacred oath, I do actually and in very fact
place these two on an equal footing? No! They
give quite another kind of proof. It is this: Cath-
olics pray to Mary and to the saints, consequently
they worship Mary and the saints ; therefore, chil-
dren, when you ask your mother for a piece of bread
you also are idolaters, abominable idolaters ! And
you also, my friends, you are often asking your
neighbors to lend you this or that, or to render you
this or that service ; fie, you are one and all of you
idolaters ! . The holy Apostle Paul has here a great
deal to answer for ; for in fact he never wrote a
single letter in which he did not add that he wor-
shipped all Christians ; that is, he always recom-
mends himself to the intercession of all Chris-
tians !
With such pitiful expressions as these do they
turn the heads of the children, with such insulting
and shameful calumnies do they fill the soft brains
of childhood. Who will undertake to answer for
this before the judgment-seat of human nature?
and who before the Judgment-Seat of God ? For
before this judgmentseat I summom all my fel-
■
Ave Maria.
547
low-men who raise an accusation founded on so
base a calumny against us. Yes, in very truth
a judgment must one day be spoken in this
matter.
When men on earth offer up petitions for one
another to Almighty God; when they know not
only that they may do so— nay, that, according to
the ordinance of Christ and the Apostles, it is
their duty so to do^ when, as a rule. Christian
prayer is a prayer in common, as the Lord teaches
when He says: "In this manner, pray ye: Our
Father," or Father of us all; this is continually
repeating itself in " give us this day," " forgive us,"
"deliver us," — this is manifestly an associate
prayer, and an associate prayer is a prayer for
others, — all for one, one for all.
[to be continued.]
The Blessed Virgin's Knight.
Beneath the stars in Palestine seven knights discours-
ing stood.
But not of warlike work to come, nor former fields of
blood.
Nor of the joy the pilgrims feel, prostrated far, who
see
The hill where Christ's atoning Blood poured down
the penal tree;
Their theme was old, theif theme was new, 'twas
sweet and yet 'twas bitter,
Of noble ladies left behind spoke cavalier and ritter,
And eyes grew bright, and sighs arose from every iron
breast.
For a dear wife, or plighted maid, far in the widow'd
West.
Towards the knights came Constantine, thrice noble
by his birth.
And ten times nobler than his blood was his high out-
shining worth.
His step was slow, his lips were moved, though not a
word he spoke,
Till a gallant lord of Lombardy his spell of silence
broke.
" What aileth thee, O Constantine, that solitude you
seek?
If counsel or if aid you need, we pray thee do but
speak;
Or dost thou mourn, like the rest, a lady-love afar.
Whose image shineth nightly through yon European
star?"
Then answered courteous Constantine,— " Good sirs.
In simple truth,
I chose a j^racious Lady in the hey-day of my youth,
I wear her imas^e on ray heart, and when that heart is
cold
The secret may be rifled thence, but never by me
told;
For her I love and worship well, by light of morn or
even,
I ne'er shall see my Mistress dear, until we meet in
heaven;
But this believe, brave cavaliers, there never was but
one
Such lady as my Holy Love beneath the blessed sun."
He ceased, and passed with solemn step on to an
olive grove,
And kneeling there he prayed to the Lady of his love.
And many a cavalier whose lance had still maintained
his own
Beloved to reign without a peer, all earth's unequalled
one,
Looked tenderly, on Constantine in camp and in the
fight.
With wonder and with generous pride they marked
the lightning lij^ht '
Of his fearlesss sword far gleaming through the un-
believers' ranks.
As the angry Rhone sweeps off the vines that thicken
on its banks.
"He fears not death, come when It will; he longeth
for his love.
And fain would find some sudden path to where she
dwells above, —
How should he fear for dying, when his mistress dear
is dead?"
Thus often of Sir Constantine his watchful comrades
said.
Until it chanced from Zion's wall the fatal arrow fled.
That pierced the outworn armor of his faithful bosom
through.
And never was such mourning made for knight In
Palestine
As thy loyal comrades made for thee, beloved Constan-
tine.
a
Beneath the royal tent the bier was guarded night
and day.
Where with a halo round his head the Christian
champion lay;
That talisman upon his breast— what may that mar-
vel be
Which kept his ardent soul through life from every
error free ?
Approach! behold! nay, worship the image of his
love.
The Heaven-crowned Queen who reigneth all the sa-
cred hosts above;
Nor wonder that around his bier there lingers such a
light,
For the spotless one that lleth there vxin the Blessed
Virgin's Knight.
T. D. M.
"Slander," says St. Bernard, "is a poison
which blots out charity both in the slanderer and
in the peison who listens to it; so that a single
calumny may prove fatal to an infinite number of
souls, since it kills not only those who circulate it
but also those who do not reject it."
T
54s
Ave Maria.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER VI.— (Continued.)
Such as it was, in all sad or buoyant mood
Lady Margaret cared for no further companion-
ship. She had had many invitations from her
family and from friends, entreating her to come
away and seek solace in change of scene and the
society of those who loved her; but nothing could
tempt her away from Connemara even for a day.
Her only comfort was to wander about the house and
the grounds, revisiting every spot connected with
any incident of the past, and living over her lost
joys in memory ; her only occupation was carrying
out all her husband's plans, even those that had
never been commenced, perhaps never would have
been, had he lived, for the Colonel was a man of
many plans ; but to his widow his lightest wish
now bore the weight of a command, and she
roused herself to the effort of ordering and super-
intending their execution; there was plenty of
movement therefore on the estate, and no lack of
employment for the tenantry ; this was distraction
enough for her; she would seek no other at the
expense of other people ; she would not impose
'the burden of her grief on anyone, either by going
to them or asking them to come to her. They could
not help her, and it would be selfish to exact it at
such a price even if they could. The only person,
strange to say, whom she sometimes longed to see
was Mr. Riugwood. He had written several times
during the early days of her bereavement, and his
letters had brought her the nearest approach to
consolation she had yet known. She would have
given anything to see him, but though she felt
certain a word to that effect would have brought
him to The Towers without loss of time, she
could not bring herself to say it. That unaccount-
able perverseness which mars the most precious
relations of our lives, and misses our best oppor-
tunities, kept her tongue tied. She could not even
bring herself to write about the vague sense of
disquiet that filled her mind, and claim the assist-
ance of his wisdom and sympathy, though she
knew how gladly and promptly he would have
given it. She sometimes wished that souls had
some medium pf communication which would
enable them to dispense with that stubborn agent,
the tongue; it would be so much easier if we
could signal to one another, express our mutual
needs and wishes, and answer them, without the
aid of articulate language which it is often so
difiicult to command.
Like all proud, reserved natures. Lady Margaret
found the effort of speech at such times repugnant
and irksome; and something in the manner and
character of Mr. Ringwood now made it specially
so. Father Fallon would have been a comfort to
to her if he had been within reach; but, as fate
would have it, he had been removed from Bally-
rock just one month after Colonel Blake's death,
and sent to a quiet little mission in the North,
there to end his days in comparative ease and rest
after his long and arduous apostolate in the wild
l^^t. Lady Margaret was very sorry for it. She
had only had one interview with him since that
closing scene to which he had been so unexpect-
edly summoned, but slight as the intercourse was,
it had left a deep impression on her, and inspired
her with a feeling of regard and trust in the plain
old man which she was at a loss to explain. No
doubt, she said, it was the memory of that terrible
morning which constituted the bond and the at-
traction; and she was prepared to acknowledge
the claim as a sacred one, and to receive the hum-
ble Catholic priest at The Towers and treat him
as a friend, when her grief permitted her to receive
anyone. When the news came that he was called
away from Ballyrock, she was more distressed than
her slight acquaintance with him seemed to war-
rant. Perhaps it arose from an unconfessed pre-
sentiment that in losing him she was losing an op-
portunity pregnant with some blessing, as yet but
dimly apprehended. She felt, at any rate, much
lonelier after his departure, and she tried to justify
this feeling to her own mind by saying that it was
natural she should grieve for the society of the
man who had received her husband's confidence
on his death-bed. They had had but one conver-
sation since that memorable interview had taken
place, which remained sacred to her, though
shrouded in mystery ; and Lady Margaret was at
the time too much overpowered by sorrow to leave
room for any attempt on Father Fallon's side but
that of consolation ; the sight of her grief, and the
absence of all that could comfort it filled him with
the deepest compassion; he did his very utmost to
express it, and his words had comforted her; it
soothed her to hear him say that he had offered the
Holy Sacrifice for her husband's soul that morn-
ing, and that while he had strength to mount the
altar he would remember him there. There had
not been tlie faintest approach to controversy;
Father Fallon saw that the time had not yet come
for that, and contented himself with gaining her
confidence and thus indirectly drawing her sym-
pathies towards the Church he represented. A
belief in a " progressive state," as she termed it,
had come to her suddenly, in the wake of her sor-
row. The doctrine of Purgatory, which had hith-
erto appeared to her only cruel and revolting,
wore quite a different aspect now; it seemed not
only possible, but salutary and fitting that there"
Ave Maria.
54^
should be some Pool of Bethsaida into which the
soul could plunge after leaving its flesh}'' garment,
some purifying waters where its stains sljould be
washed out and its wounds healed before being
admitted into the presence of the Holy of Holies.
Her husband had led a purer life than most men
who pass for blameless amongst their fellows;
he had been a kind landlord, liberal to the poor,
truthful and merciful to all men; but an jnstinct
stronger than all her human tenderness whis-
pered to his wife that this was not enough, that
something more was required to make a soul
worthy to look upon that Divine Purity before
whose Face the very pillars of heaven tremble.
She never doubted for a moment but that he had
found mercy; that he was at rest somewhere in
God's many-mansioned House; his soul might be
tarrying outside the golden gates, but it was
happy; that blessed " Come ! " spoken from the
Judguient-Seat had surely established it in the
peace that passeth all understanding; but it
seemed right, nevertheless, that it should pass
through the flames where every blemish would
be burned away.
This faith in Purgatory had come to Lady Mar-
garet like a portion of her sorrow; but it had
lightened rather than intensified it, and softened
her heart as all gifts do which come to us straight
from God's hand. It was the very point of doc-
trine on which Father Fallon had touched with
her, and it surprised and delighted him to see
how grace had done its work unaided, and how
readily she accepted his exposition of the Catholic
theology of Purgatory. He taught her how to
pray for the dead, and she had done so daily,
and drawh strength and comfort from the prac-
tice.
Before leaving Ballyrock, he had written to her,
expressing his regret at not seeing her again,
promising to remember her constantly at the altar,
and commending to her his beloved parishioners.
" The poor are our best friends in sorrow," he
said ; *' they have the ear of our Blessed Lord, and
free access to His Sacred Heart." He spoke in
high praise of his successor, as a young man of
great scholarship and piety, whom she would
find always ready to carry out her charitable de-
sires amongst her poorer tenantry, and prove his
devotion to herself in every possible way; Father
Fallon hoped she would allow him the privilege
of making her acquaintance at an early date; he
concluded by an appeal to her to pray earnestly
for light, and for the grace to receive it when it
came. Lady ]\Iargaret was greatly afiected by the
letter; there was a^varmth of sympathy and af-
fection throughout that it was impossible to mis-
take; but when she came to these last words
an involuntary smile broke through her tears.
"Poor dear simple man! I really believe he
had an idea that he might have converted me! I
am sorry, all the same, to lose him."
As to making friends with his successor, it did
not enter into her views; an accidental circum-
stance had led to her acquaintance with himself,
but there was no reason why she should deliber-
ately seek the acquaintance of a strange priest;
there were, on the contrary, many for avoiding it.
If a cultivated, agreeable man, like Mr. Ring-
wood for instance, fell in her way, she might over-
look the fact of his being a priest; but that that
fact should of itself move her to overlook the ab-
sence of the other qualifications never occurred
to her, and it was more than probable that this
newcomer was an unpolished individual, very
well suited to deal with his poverty-stricken king-
dom of a parish, but possessing no attractions for
one of her fastidious and exacting taste. She was
both touched and surprised at the universal and
impassioned sorrow which the departure of Father
Fallon caused at Barrymore ; the people were in
despair; it was as if every man and woman in the
place were losing some dear member of their fam-
ily; their ndiM demonstrations of this feeling
amused her.
" Sorry to lose him, my lady ! Glory be to God !
Sure we'll be lost intirely without him ! Who'll
ever look after us and keep us straight and tidy
like Father Pat ! Who'll stand between us and the
dhrop as he did ! Och ! it's himself knew how to
keep a poor divil from it ! "
Such was the general chorus of lamentation.
Magee, on whom this restraining power had been
strongly brought to bear these ten years past,
though not always with the success which Father
Pat's reputation in that respect would have im-
plied, was simply inconsolable. He went about
bemoaning his hard fate from neighbor to neigh-
bor, and occasionally keeping up his spirits by a
mild potation.
"The Lord look on Magee now!" he would
say — he always spoke of himself as of a third per-
son— "for it's nobody else'U care to look afther
him, and come to lay it on him right and left
whin he makes a baste of himself! "
"But he niver did lay it on you; he niver wint
beyond threatenin' ; you know that, Magee," the
neighbor would object.
"Och! what matther!" Magee would retort,
"Isn't it all the same? If he never bate me he
was always ready for it, and many's the time the
fear o' Father Pat's stick came between me and
the poteen like a stone wall."
"Well, don't be down-hearted, Magee. Maybe
the new priest '11 do as much for you ; they say he's
550
Ave Maria.
very kind," remarked Molly Torry, by way of con-
solation.
"Maybe," assented Magee; "but there la none
like th'ould one; we'll never see the like o' Fa-
ther Pat at Ballyrock agin."
When the new priest came, however, he was not
long in making friends with them for all that;
though it is true he never effaced the memory of
Father Pat. He called in due course at The Tow-
ers, and left his card; a liberty which Lady Mar-
garet did not resent, and which she even approved
by a brief, courteous note, bidding the newcomer
welcome to her kingdom, and expressing a desire
that he might be happy there, and learn in time
to love her people as his predecessor had done.
There was no invitation, direct or implied, to him
to come again ; so of course he did not further in-
trude. Indeed she saw no one; there were no
neighbors near enough to call, and so for the last
six months Lady Margaret ha^ lived as much like
a recluse as any anchorite in the desert. At times
the loneliness oppressed her, and she yearned for
the warm grasp of a friendly hand and the sym-
pathy of a friend's heart. She was feeling thus
now as she sat solitary on the cliff above the sea.
The sun was setting in fire, pouring soft cascades
of gold into the water that burned like a sheet of
flame as it rested against the sky. Lady Margaret
watched the pageant until its glory faded and the
fires had smouldered out, and the shadows were be-
ginning to fall. Not a breath stirred in the up-
lands; silence reigned supreme; the hills were
dark,. and far away the waters were wide and dreary ;
the world was everywhere full of hush ; the wild
fowl had gone to roost in the red and yellow woods,
the eagles were asleep in their eyries ; suddenly a
sea-gull flew by and screamed as it skimmed the
wave and disappeared, leaving the stillness deeper
than before. Lady Margaret shuddered as if a
spirit had risen in the desolate place and touched
her ; perhaps the cry of the sea-bird struck some
tender chord of memory, and recalled some inci-
dent of the past specially happy or dear; at any
rate it moved her with a sudden passion of grief
the tears flowed in torrents down her cheeks, and
she sobbed until the paroxysm shook her from
head to foot ; it lasted some minutes, and might
have gone on much longer if she had not been
aroused by a voice saying close beside her :
" Oh, my lady, will ye never forgive God
Almighty! Will ye never make it up wid
Him!"
The unexpected interruption and the strange
words choked the sob in Lady Margaret's throat ;
she started and stood up before turning round to
see who the speaker was. It was Molly, Dan
Torry's widow.
"What do you mean ? " said Lady Margaret, not
haughtil}', in at most a frightened tone.
"I mane, acushla, that ye'U never know pace or
comfort while yer angry wid God Almighty; thry
and forgive Him, and He'll dhraw the sting out o'
yer heart, just as ye'd dhraw a thorn out o' yer
finger."
"I don't understand you, Molly; I never said I
was angi'y with God," said Lady Margaret, in the
same frightened tone.
"There's no call to say it; doesn't He see it?"
urged Molly ; " He sees ye don't forgive Him for
takin' away yer husband, my lady ; aren't ye flyin'
in His blessed face ivery hour o' yer life since the
Gineral went? Why do ye go on like this, a-fret-
tin' and killin' yerself, when He knows what is
best for ye ? Thry and lave it off, and say Thy
will be done ! and ye'll see if He don't turn the
bitter into sweet for ye. Don't I know it, my lady ?
Didn't Molly go through it all for her poor Dan !
And it's harder on the poor wife than the rich one
to be left alone, to have to work for the bit she
ates, and have no one to share it; it's lonely work
sitiin' by the hearth of a night, wid the empty
place afore one, and no one to care for you, no one
to help you if yer brought down wid the faver."
"Yes, my poor Molly; it has been much
harder on you than on me in many ways," said
Lady Margaret, stung by a sudden sense of egot-
ism and ingratitude as she looked at the poor
man's widow in her scanty clothes, with penury
and suffering written on every thread, and the
distance between their separate lots flashed on
her reproachfully; "it has been much worse for
you being left alone ; and yet you say the sting is
taken out of your grief! you talk of being in
peace ; how did it come to you ? Tell me, Molly."
" It came to me just by forgivin' God, and say in'
agin and agin : ' Thy will be done ! ' Sayin' it wid
me tongue only, at first, until little by little I came
to say it wid me heart. Thin I began to feel
happy» because I kep' sayin' to myself, says I,
" Molly, don't you know that what makes heaven
heaven is just of it's bein' all in the will o' God,
all the blessed saints and angels a-doin' of it from
mornin'till night; and now look up and see yer
own Dan a-standin' in the midst of 'em, and singin'
* Glory to the Lamb o' God ! ' And the thought
was such a blessed one, that sure I couldn't cry
any more when it came to me, let alone it was for
joy, and thin I took to praisin' and blessin' the will
o' God, and my throuble grew light until it seemed
no throuble at all but ony a blessin'. Oh, my lady,
I wouldn't have my boy back if God offered him
to me! I wouldn't rob him of* his crown o' glory
in the kingdom o' Heaven. I'm happy when I.
thinks to myself, " You are workin' and strivin',
Ave Maria.
551
Molly, but Dan's singin* songs wid the angels up
there ; no more worry or trouble for liira ; the Lord
be blessed and praised for it!"
The thin, careworn face was illuminated with a
gleam of heavenly radiance, as the poor woman
lifted It to the skies, where faith discovered to her
the figure of her husband " doing the will of God "
for evermore. Lady Margaret had seen the same
light on many such faces ore Sunday morning in
the wayside chapel ; she recalled the scene now,
as she stood for a moment gazing on Molly with a
look of wonder and envy. Then she held out her
hand, and said, "Pray for me, dear Molly; ask
God to help me to forgive Him, and to be resigned
and humble like you."
Molly lifted the delicate white hand to her lips,
and murmured a blessing that fell sweetly on Lady
Margaret's ear, although it was in Irish and the
words were unintelligible.
[to be continued.]
Lonise Lateau.
A VISIT TO BOIS D'HAINB.
[Continued.]
It is hardly necessary to explain to those who
really believe in the Communion of Saints the
utility of Louise's sufferings, since they know the
nature and use of the contents of the spiritual
treasury of the Church — that treasury which is
free to all the friends of God. Neither is it nec-
essary to tell them that the penances and suffer-
ings of a Christian are available to eternal welfare
both for himself and others, for they well compre-
hend that this doctrine, far from being derogatory
to the true idea of I^edemption, explains how Our
Lord effected the salvation of mankind by purify-
ing and sanctifying our actions, our sufferings, our
prayers, so as to render them acceptable to God.
But the Catholic makes the same question as
those outside of the Church, — " Why these suffer-
ings?"— though he awaits a different response — a
response, which he has already formed in his
heart. His mind has already carried him in spirit
to all those spots of the Christian world where
God's Church is suffering the assaults of the
wicked; and when he thinks of all her trials he
wonders that the bright sun can shine upon such
scenes of sorrow, and he is surprised that her
children can find it in their hearts to rejoice when
that which should be dearer to them than all else
beside is so sorely afilicted; and then he is almost
certain that Louise is one of the grand atoning
victims for the wrong-doings of this century.
Yes, she is evidently one of that glorious com-
pany of wliom our Holy Father is the Chief.
"When will God have mercy on us, and for their
sakes hear our prayers? Who knows! perhaps
lie heeds them all the while, and tempers to our
enduring the fierce storm that is raging, and per-
haps for their sakes these days will be shortened.
The date of the occupation of Rome by the Pied-
montese troops, Sept. 20, 1870, was one memorable
to Louise; for during that time, when the anti-
Christian world was uniting in one wild cry of
exultation, she was undergoing the most frightful
suffering, personifying and concentrating as it
were the grief of all faithful Catholics.
During the following Holy Week, that of 1871,
the Jewish and infidel circles of Paris and Rome
were engaged in a rivalry of blasphemous con-
duct. The leaders of the Commune were if possi-
ble excelling in iniquity Robespierre and his com-
rades ; and in Rome, at a grand infidel banquet
given on Good Friday, a crucifix was placed on
the table to receive the insults of the riotous
guests. And Louise — neither she nor her direc-
tors knew of the frightful events of the day, save
through her excessive sufferings. Would she sur-
vive them? her state of speechless torture gave
them cause to fear that she might fall beneath the
weight of her cross, never to rise again.
It does not come within the scope of an article
addressed to those who pay especial honor to Our
Lady of Miracles to produce the medical proofs
contained in the work of Dr. Lefebvre. To those
who require these proofs, let it be said that they ex-
ist; and that Berlin philosophy, that dying gasp of
Teutonic paganism, which this century is pleased
to invest with the laurels stolen from true knowl-
edge, has been repeatedly challenged to give a
logical refutation, and that its only reply has been
—sneers and gibes, — the last refuge of sophistry.
In additon to Dr. Lefebvre, physicians of every
country, of every school, of every shade of belief
or disbelief, were allowed and are still permitted
all freedom to inquire into the phenomena pre-
sented by Louise's condition. But this strict in-
quiry, and the publicity of the proofs, make the
Catholic reader blush for the century in which we
live, the century that shows us how Herod would
have treated the miracles that Christ withheld from
him and his mocking courtiers. Thomas, when
told by his risen Master to put his finger in the
place of the nails, only responded by the exclama-
tion : "My Lord and my God ! " the science of the
nineteenth century has shown us that it would
have joyfully accepted the invitation, and that its
enquiring, curious finger would, like the spear,
have found its way to the very Heart of Our Lord.
Are we Catholics fallen so low in the scale of faith
that in order to believe a miracle we must be in-
I
Ave MaHa.
formed concerning that from which our respect
for Christian virginity should teach us to restrain
our curiosity? If such is the case, how that fact
ought to humiliate us!
Oh, in reading the details of these medical in-
quests, the true Catholic will sigh for those ages
of faith when, in such cases, learned physicians
transmitted their documents to the ecclesiastical
I authorities alone; when all that a believing laity
required to know of the results of their investiga-
tion was : " Non est in, naturtV'
Non est in naturd, — but does it come from God ?
As far as human wisdom can go, it has been as-
certained with tolerable surety that all that the
Evil One does in this case is to persecute Louise
with the same style of attentions with which he
usually favors the especial friends of God. Before
sleep ceased to be a necessity to her, he often
aroused her from profound, healthful slumber, to
throw her violently on the floor, or to strangle her,
or else to present horrible pictures to her mind,
or often to alarm her with hideous noises, — in
fact to exhibit his complete repertory of annoy-
ances, with which the life of the Cure d'Ars has
made the Catholic public of to-day familiar, show-
ing us that it is not only Job whose steadfast faith
and virtue could provoke his malice.
The Church has one infallible test of true spir-
ituality—implicit obedience. This test has been
repeatedly tried on Louise, and there is but one last
proof needed, and that is final perseverance, for
which we must wait until death brings the crown
of victory. Catholics ought to know, if they do
not, that a state of perfection cannot exist on earth.
On this subject the See of Rome spoke centuries
ago, in condemning the errors of Origen. Holy
people are only approximately perfect ; at any mo-
ment rude temptation may shake the very found-
ations of their soul, and were it not for the inter-
vening grace of God, who can answer for the con-
sequence? Rut as the matter now stands, the
pious faithful are allowed to exercise that glori-
ous privilege of Christianity— belief ; allowed to
respond, as former ages did, to the non est in naturd
that proclaimed a miracle. It is not in nature;
let us give thanks to God for His great glory.
In strength and deliberate movement, the Flem-
ish brain is a fitting counterpart of the prover-
bial sturdiness of the Flemish physical constitu-
tion. It lingers around profound science with an
intensity of thought wearisome to the minds less
Teutonic in frame, and it delights in weighty
metaphysical problems. A proposition once
proved, it is not satisfied, but it dwells anew on
each ramification of argument, and adds proof on
proof, the more abstruse the better, until more
volatile intellects have either lost sight of the pri-
mary subject or have but a dim and perplexed
idea thereof. Such at least was the impression
made on us by the works concerning Louise La-
teau with which we had provided ourselves be-
fore coming to Bois d'Haine, and it was an im-^
pression strengthened by the recollection of a little
exhortation which we had heard in the Church of
the Redemptorists in Tournay. The congrega-
tion— composed of men, women and children of
every age and condition— was advised to take as a
subject of meditation God's eternal existence be-
fore all ages, before all creation. We knew that
to minds like Faber's this is a most restful idea,
but no simile of "lofty mountain peak," "limit-
less plain, "or shoreless ocean" had ever done
more than to oppress our minds with the immen-
sity of an idea which they were too finite to con-
tain, and we had always sought refuge in the short,
simple phraseology of our little catechism, "God
always was and always will be," and so had dis-
missed the thought, acknowledging ourselves too
little and too weak to soar near the incomprehen-
sible mysteries of the Holy Trinity. The Bel-
gian congregation listened calmly to the advice,
and doubtless many followed it, and we thought
what well-balanced minds these people must have !
But this was not the only impression produced on
us ; for we gained by this a still clearer idea of the
blessing of being born in a Catholic land, and of
generations of Catholicism. Among us, the power
of dwelling in meditation on these great truths of
revelation is only the prerogative of liigher holi-
ness, but here it seemed to be the birthright of the
ordinary Christian. Such is the inheritance of the
frequent reception of the Sacraments by a nation
for centuries.
Our bodies were cramped and wearied with
the trying journey of the preceding day, and our
brains were thoroughly fatigued by our endeavors
to disentangle the miraculous from the medical
and the metaphysical; so we closed our books,
and, taking our out-door wraps, we sallied forth
to pay that, in Europe, commonplace act of de-
votion— a visit to the Blessed Sacrament. Motion
would be physical refreshment, and a little quiet
prayer would rest the mind. We found the
church in Fayt * locked,— no great misfortune, we
thought, for M. Niels had told us that the church
* Note.— In No. 31 of the Ave Maria, on pages 487
and 489, Fayt is mis-spelled Faijt. Instead of the two
letters ij, there should properly be a letter 7j with two
dots over it. The two dots mark the division of the
word into two syllables— thus, Fa-yt, pronounced
Fa-eet, instead of "Fate," which the y without the
dots would imply. Fayt is a word peculiarly Belgian,
probably derived from the Walloon, which Is the di-
alect of that region.
Ave Maria,
563
of Bois d'Haine was always open, and we were
delighted to extend our walk in tliat direction,
that being the only bit of road resembling a pleas-
ant promenade in the neighorhood. Although so
many degrees further north than our own lati-
tude, we found the sunny air as bland and invig-
orating as on one of our own bright September
afternoons; and we were enjoying our freedom
from the thraldom of town-life, and forgetting all
the fine distinction between spiritual slumber and
genuine ecstasy, with all the minute medical proof
almost as trying to the nerves as the accurate an-
nals of a dissecting-room, when we found ourselves
in the midst of a little adventure which confirmed
the idea which we had naturally formed of Lou-
ise's sisters from the accf)uut given us by the maid
with whom we travelled on our way to Tournay.
On our return from church, as we drew near to
the house of Louise Lateau we met a woman
dressed in the usual garb of the working-classes.
She viewed us wuth considerable displeasure visi-
ble in her countenance, and, turning from the
highway, she ran rapidly up the steps of the cot-
tage, and, entering, she slammed the green door
with a vehemence that would have daunted the
boldest heart, and hav.e prevented the most auda-
cious from intruding. Having no intention of
going where we had not been invited, we merely
noted her conduct as tallying with the general
reputation of the Lateau family. We afterwards
related the incident to our landlady, who required
of us a description of the person whom we had
seen.
"It is Rosine Lateau, Mademoiselle," said she;
" she and Adeline have that peculiar manner of
closing the door when they imagine that anyone
wishes to enter their house, and that is whenever
they see anyone on the public highway leading
from Fayt to Bois d'Haine ; and perhaps you will
find that M. Kiels himself can close that door,
when necessary, with a touch of that same man-
ner."
And pausing a moment from her labors, our
landlady seated herself by the piano and repeated
her already twice-told tale of her intense desire to
witness the miracle, and of M. le Cui-c's steady re-
fusal. This narrative invariably concluded with
a dissertation on the disagreeable points of Madame
Lateau's character, whose death ouf hostess con-
sidered a blessing to all who visit Louise. If we
may trust all that is told in the neighborhood of
Bois d'Haine, Madame Lateau and her two older
daughters did not, to use a familiar expression,
put their best foot forward on Fridays. Madame
Lateau, it seems, found no position so well suited
to her needlework as just in the door-way of
Louise's room, and from this place she never '
moved the whole afternoon, so that visitors were
obliged to stumble over her in order to enter. As
,to Rosine and Adeline, their conduct is such that
all Christians must hope that the prophecy of
Pal ma, the ecstatica of Oria, in Louise's regard,
will be speedily fulfilled. Palma declares that
the da}-^ is not far distant when Louise will be re-
moved from the society of those whose conduct
necessarily fetters her spiritual advancement.
Rosine Lateau, as is well known, took occasion
to inform one of the exiled princesses of Italy —
the same one, if we mistake not, who lately elec-
trified the world by leaving all things to follow
Our Lord in the humble garb of a Franciscan nun
— that in the sight of God she the princess was no
more than one of themselves. A sentiment which
would have been lovely humility in the princess,
but which, coming from the mouth of the seam-
stress, savored more of rebellious envy than be-
comes the true Christian. Only the plea of ex-
treme ignorance could in this case excuse Rosine,
for certainly those whose exile has the same origin,
nay, is identical with the trials and imprisonment
of the Holy Father, must be very dear to God, and
it would seem presumption to claim any equality
with them, either temporal or spiritual.
Adeline had not as yet distinguished herself by
any one remarkable action, but our experience
proved that she is worthy to be the daughter of
her mother and the sister of Rosine, however un-
fitted she may be to be the companion of one des-
tined to take a place in the highest choir of the
heavenly host.
[to be continued.]
Santa Sabina.
BY ELIZA ALLEN 8TARB.
We had planned a visit to Santa Sabina, on the
Aventine Hill, for the fifth of May, when a message
reached us, from too authentic a source to be
doubted, which gave an extraordinary interest to
our visit; for on that day, the Feast of St. Pius V,
the room of the holy Pontiff and of his spiritual
father, St. Dominic, would be open to ladies for
the first time.
There is always a charm about a new privilege,
however dear may be the old one ; and we were
not sorry to have this charm mark our first visit
to the Dominican convent, around which had
clustered to us, for years, so many sacred associa-
tions. If San Sisto had drawn us within its pictu-
resque old gate, and up its winding stairways,
worn with the steps of generation after generation
of Dominican nuns as well as monks, had tolled
us on to peep through its loop-holes of windows
554
Ave Maria.
and peer into its deserted corridors; if we liad
clambered up the side of its steep banlcs to clutcli
the scarlet poppies growing on the crumbling
walls, and all because this had been the first home
in Rome of St. Dominic Guzman and his brothers
in religion, still Santa Sabina had witnessed some
of the most extraordinary manifestaiions of God's
favor towards the young Order. If the youth,
Napoleon, at the prayer of St. Dominic, opened
his eyes again upon earth at San Sisto, still the
miracle of the loaves of white bread, distributed
by two radiant angels to astonished monks in the
refectory, had taken place at Santa Sabina. Here,
too, the Order had seen some of its choicest vines
taking root and bearing delicious fruit. It was to
Santa Sabina that the young Thomas of Aquin
fled from his worldly relatives, when he heard
that they intended to force him to remain in the
world. It was at Santa Sabina that St. Raymond
of Pennafort found a home when called to Rome
by Pope Gregory IX, in 1230 ; and even made the
confessor of the Holy Father. To name over the
shining lights of the Dominican Order for cen-
turies, is to name those who were trained or per-
fected in the school of St. Dominic at Santa Sabina
on the Aventine. If Toulouse was the cradle of
the Order, if there the rich germs sprouted and
put forth the first green blade, and if the blessings
of the pontificate first fell upon it at San Sisto,
still at Santa Sabina the full kernel appeared on
the stalk. When Yvo of Konski was named
Bishop of Cracow, he went to Rome, taking with
him his two nephews, Hyacinth and Ceslas. The
fame of St. Dominic drew the Bishop to Santa
Sabina; and seeing the sanctity of these religious
and the zeal of their founder, he desired to take
back with him to Poland some of their missiona-
ries. But even the zeal of a St. Dominic could not
prepare missionaries fast enough to meet the de-
mands made for them ; and it was from his own
household that the Bishop took the novices who
were to learn the spirit of St. Dominic and carry it
to Poland and all the regions of northern Europe.
In this very Convent of Santa Sabina, in March
1218, St. Dominic gave the religious habit to the
nephews of the Bishop, Hyacinth and Ceslas, and
also to Herman and Henry, two gentlemen attached
to the suite of the Bishop of Cracow ; and it is
around this same Hyacinth that the marvellous
halo of light still shines in northern Europe; for,
like Dominic, he was a saint.
Here too, at Santa Sabina, Michael Ghisleri led
that life which prepared him to glorify the pon-
tificate by miracles, and to win another nimbus
for the tiara in the person of Pius V, and therefore
it was that on his feast, the fifth of May, a new
privilege had been granted to those who would
visit Santa Sabina and the shrines of the Domini-
can saints.
But this favored spot had not only kept the per-
fume of the lilies of St. Dominic— it had borne
the red roses of a martyr. From her patrician
home on the Aventine, Sabina had gone to Um-
bria as the bride of one of its richest noblemen.
But riches and prosperity still left her soul open
to the voice from heaven which spoke to her
through her maid, Seraphia, a native of Antioch in
Syria, and a Christian. Embracing the truth with
all the fervor which marked the Christian ladies
of Rome in those early ages, she soon became
illustrious even among the great lights of the
Church. At this time the Emperor, Adrian, began
openly to persecute the Christians. Sabina and
Seraphia were apprehended by the order of Beryl-
lus. Governor of Syria. The maid, Seraphia, was
beaten to death with clubs; but Sabina was dis-
charged, out of respect for her high position and
regard for her friends. In the course of the same
year which had seen her maid Seraphia give tes-
timony to the faith, Sabina returned to Rome —
returned to it with her soul lifted up beyond the
fear of tyrants or their tortures. She had learned
from Seraphia not only how to live for the truth
as it is in Christ Jesus, but how to die for it.
Called out again by the order of the persecutor, it
was no longer to Beryllus, but to Adrian himself,
that she was to make answer, who interrogated
her through Elpidius.
"Are you not Sabina," asked the tyrant, "and
illustrious both by your birth and by your mar-
riage?"
" I am indeed Sabina," she replied ; " but I give
thanks to Jesus Christ who by means of my
maid-servant, Seraphia, has delivered me from the
thraldom of the evil one."
There was no respect for friends, in the heart of
Adrian; and without any further ceremony she
w^as condemned to all sorts of tortures, and finally
beheaded ; beheaded, we are expressly told, in the
house of her parents on the Aventine Hill, and
in full sight of the palaces of the Csesars, then
in all their glory. To-day, indeed, as the Christian
pilgrim winds up the steep ascent of the Aven-
tine, he turns to enjoy what he declares to be the
finest view in all Rome of the palaces of her
Caesars ; but it is a view of those palaces in ruins —
ruins so utterly desolated as to be a by-word
among the nations. In the darkness of the Mam-
ertine prison, the lamp of the guide shows us the
fountain which sprang up at the command of St.
Peter when his jailors asked for baptism. In the
rough stone wall is also shown the impression of
St. Peter's face, made perhaps when ignomini-
ously pushed against it by some imperial minion
Ave Maria,
555
To this day it has been carefully protected from
injury or insult; and the depths of tliis gloomy
cavern retain authentic traces of the sojourn of
the Apostles. But in the palaces of the Ccesars, the
most enthusiastic search discovers no trace of the
personal existence of those who planned, built
and lived in them. Among those skeletons of
banqueting halls, audience .rooms, luxurious
apartments, there is nothing which can be identi-
fied as connected with any one of these emperors,
these universal rulers, and "would-be gods";
while the Aventine Hill, like the Mamertine
prison, guards the tradition of a single patrician
woman and her maid, as a priceless treasure and a
crown of glory.
It was in the year 425 that a pious Illyrian priest
named Peter built a church to take the place of
the oratory which had hitherto stood over the
tomb of Santa Sabina. This church was conse-
crated by St. Sixtus III, and was made the station
for Ash-Wednesday by St. Gregory the Great. This
illustrious Pontiff, we are told, preached on this
day many times at Santa Sabina; and it was long
the custom of the Sovereign Pontiffs to receive in
this church the penitential ashes. Eugene II re-
stored the church in the ninth century, and Greg-
ory IX consecrated the new altar in 1238. The
titular Cardinals to whom the church was succes-
sively given made important repairs, and St. Pius
V and Sixtus V both left traces of their zeal for its
welfare.
At one time the convent attached to the church
was a pontifical residence. Here Honorius IV
died, and here was elected his successor, Nicho-
las IV. A part of this convent had been given to
St. Dominic by Honorius III, when he gave him
the church, and thus became the home of many of
the saints of his Order. With all these associa-
tions drawing us onward, how eagerly we watched
for the first glimpse of Santa Sabina!
The actual entrance to the church is no longer
through the court of the convent, but from the side,
where four pillars and three round arches stand
in the midst of an irregular pile of domes and
chapels, attached to the grand nave and aisles of
the ancient edifice. The first object which on en-
tering strikes the eye, after a glance at the great
length of the church and its lofty ceiling of bare
rafters, is a low spiral column with a black head,
marking the spot where St. Dominic spent whole
nights in prayer. Very near this was the stone
which covered the remains of the five martyrs
whose bodies were laid in the crypt of Santa Sa-
bina ; but this stone is now placed on the wall near
the actual entrance of the church. AValking tow-
ards the altar, we see, in the pavement, the effigy
of Munio of Zamora, the seventh General of the
Order of St. Dominic, in a mosaic by Jacques de
Torrita, whose name is so honored in the history
of art. One chapel, the first on the right as we
enter, is given to St. Thomas of Aquin ; the one
still nearer the altar to St. Dominic himself; and
in this is the very interesting fresco which rep-
resents him giving the habit to St. Hyacinth and
to St. Ceslas. Following this aisle, we find, at the
end, the chapel of Our Lady of tlie Rosary. The
altar-piece is the picture known by this same name,
and acknowledged to be the masterpiece of Sas-
soferrato. The Blessed Virgin is seated, with her
Divine Son on her knee. With one hand He crowns
St. Catherine of Sienna with a wreath of thorns,
and with the other presents to her a rosary; while
the Blessed Virgin gives a rosary to St. Dominic,
kneeling like St. Catherine and his inspired face
lifted towards tlie Queen of Heaven. Above this
group hover little angels, in a sort of still ecstasy.
The one above the head of St. Dominic is one of
the most beautiful in all Christian art. The whole
movement of the figure, as well as the expression of
the face, is truly celestial. Tiiis picture is worthily
framed by a series of miniatures, representing
the fifteen mysteries contemplated on the rosary of
St. Dominic. The ingrained arch over the altar is
ornamented by roses in gold, and the whole chapel
is of exceeding beauty.
In the deep apse of the choir is the altar-piece,
representing the martyrdom of Santa Sabina, while
on the side at the right, as we turn from the choir,
is a fresco of St. Gregory the Great preaching at
Santa Sabina. Before the main altar, which stands
in front of the deep choir, is the entrance to the
. crypt in which repose the bodies of St. Alexander,
Pope; of SS. Eventius and Theodulus, priests; of
St. Seraphia, the teacher of St. Sabina, and finally
of St. Sabina herself— all martyrs under Adrian.
At the end of the left aisle of the church as we
leave the choir, and exactly opposite that of the
Chapel of the Rosary, is the Chapel of the Crucifix ;
while opposite those of St. Dominic and of St.
Thomas is that of St. Catherine of Sienna, rich in
marbles through the generosity of Elic of Tuscany.
But high above all these chapels, and supported
by the twenty-four Corinthian columns of the nave,
which had belonged to the temple of Juno Regina,
is an inlaid frieze of ptdradura, which may be
considered unique even in Rome, and which could
belong only to the period that gave floors of such
marvellous beauty and yet of almost imperishable
durability.
And now we have come to the grand portal
which once made the usual entrance to the church.
But first let us look above it, at the immense in-
scription in mosaic, which dates back to the fifth
century ; to the time, even, when the Christians on
556
Ave Maria.
tlie Aventine wished to honor that same pious
priest, Qamed Peter, who had been so zealous for
the honor of Santa Sabina. The inscription is in
letters of gold, on a blue ground, and runs thus:
"Rich for the poor, poor towards himself, despis-
ing the goods of the present life, Peter merited to
hope for the life to come." At each end of this
inscription is a draped female tigure holding a
book ; one is named, in small letters, the " Church
of the Circumcision"; the other the "Church of
the Gentiles." As this is only a fragment of the
original mosaic, it is supposed that SS. Peter and
Paul were depicted above these symbolical figures.
This mosaic inscription, with the figures, extends
the whole width of the grand nave.
If we now pass through the door, we shall find
it one of those relics which mark an era in art.
The frame, of white marble, is cut, with all the
delicacy of an antique Corinthian capital, in short
acanthus leaves. Tlie door itself is of dark wood,
its Carved panels or compartments giving scenes
both from the Old and the New Testament. The
portico, now enclosed, on which this door opens,
bears many ancient Christian inscriptions in its
walls, and is supported by eight antique columns
of the choicest white marble, four of which are
spiral. From this portico we look, through a
small window, into the monastery garden, where
the orange-tree planted by St. Dominic, and there-
fore more than six hundred years old, still flour-
ishes, and not only bears leaves but fruit. A mar-
ble wall surrounds this venerable tree, 'and a relief
on the side gives us a good picture in stone of St.
Dominic. From the same portico, "also, we could
look into the cloister of the convent, with its col-
umns and arches, almost as beautiful as those in
the famous cloister of St. Paul's outside the walls.
From the same portico, too, we were guided to the
chambers once belonging to St. Dominic and St.
Pius V— this day, as we had been told, opened for
the first time to ladies. Much as we had desired
to improve this privilege, there was something
very solemn and very pathetic in this condescen-
sion of the Church towards her children of the
nineteenth century. The more men cavil, and the
more they insult her traditions, the more ready
she is to show them the proofs of their authenticity.
Although the room of St. Dominic is reached
by a lower landing of the winding stairway, we
went first to that of the holy Pontiff. To this
upper room, overlooking the hills beyond the
Tiber, Pius V came every year to make, in the
midst of his brothers in religion, of the Order of
St. Dominic, that strict retreat of which he had
learned well the eflicacy when a monk in the choir
at Santa Sabina. The practices which had then
nourished in his soul the grace of holy perseve-
rance were never considered outgrown or unnec-
essary; but, to the last hour of his life, Pius V
was a son of St. Dominic. The room had evidently
been in use as a chapel. Over the altar was a
painting of Pius V and his crucifix: the crucifix,
which, having been poisoned by his enemies as
the object most sure to touch his lips, miraculously
recoiled from him in such a way as to v>^arn him
of the danger of which he was until then uncon-
scious. The picture is a very striking one; as,
indeed we might say of all the pictures in this
narrow chapel. Two of them represent the mira-
cles of St. Pius V; another, St. Philip Neri pre-
dicting that he would be made Pope ; and another
still, an angel showing to St. Pius, in vision, the
victory of Lepanto. Tlie same type of coun-
tenance is preserved in all these frescoes, and ad-
heres closely to the actual type of the living Pon-
tiff, as we could plainly see, having only that
morning visited the chapel, in Santa Maria Mag-
giore, in which his body reposes and is seen on
this day, clothed in a crimson silk soutane and the
lace rochet which Napoleon I presented to Pius
VII. This evidence, simple as it was, of the truth
of the type preserved in the pictures on the walls
of his room, reminded us that many other types
which are considered fanciful merely, may still be
founded upon traditions equally true.
From the room and chapel of Pius V we stepped
partly down the stairs, strewn with fresh box,
and then turned into the narrow passage leading
to the room of St. -Dominic; for it was there
that a certain interest gathered and culminated.
How important to the Church, to Europe, to
America, had been the years spent by St. Dominic
in that cell ! for a cell it really was. The outer
room, which led into this, had been richly adorned
— literally cased in precious marbles ; but the inner
room, the room we cared most for, had remained,
we were glad to see, almost as bare as St. Dominic
must have left it. The only considerable change
must have been that made by introducing the
altar, with its canopy, and a picture of St.
Dominic, which may be regarded as a true like-
ness. The picture was framed in a narrow strip
of gilded lilies, the whole set in crimson velvet on
which were gold stars, thus preserving the em-
blems which accompany St. Dominic in art. We
can never tell in words the satisfaction given by
this visit to the room of St. Dominic at Santa Sa-
bina. It supplied certain impressions, which
even if we were unconscious of it, were needed to
give us a personal acquaintance with St. Dominic,
much as we had admired and venerated him ; for
at Santa Sabina you seem to breathe the same air
and to walk beside him as a friend actually pres-
ent. The ardor of that great founder has never left
Ave Maria,
557
his Order, and we fancied that we could see in the
faces of the monks at Santa Sabiba the same
heavenly cheer and gladness of soul which dis-
tinguished him among the saints even of his own
era. It was with a sort of miserly clutch that our
hands held the few photographs and sketches
which we could secure of a retreat so rich in all
which makes a true sanctuary — while an aroma,
more precious than others could claim, seemed to
breathe from the orange-leaves fresh from the
tree planted by the hand of Dominic of Guzman.
No one who has visited the Church of Santa
Sabina on the Aventine will accuse us of pro-
lixity in this article; they will say that we have
given the merest glance of a passer-by to what
might worthily occupy page after page of minute
description. What we have written, however,
will assist those who have not seen it to form
some idea of the riches of those ancient churches
in all that relates to the soul ; and it may also in-
cline some heart to be more devout, not only to
St. Dominic and to St. Pius V, but to St. Sabina,
the martyr, whose feast is celebrated on the 29th
of August.
<•» •
Catholic Notes.
We are under many obligations to Rev. Fr. Bot,
San Gabriel Mission, Cal., for favors lately received.
Eighty-seven hospitals and two hundred and
twenty asylums of various kinds attest the practical
charity and active benevolence of American Catholics.
Rev. Father Heribert, of the Franciscan Monas-
tery, St. Louis, died suddenly at Alton, 111., on the 14th
inst., of congestion of the brain. The remains were
taken to St. Louis.
Miss Elizabeth Thompson, the well-known ar-
tist, who has lately become a convert, has, it is said,
foresworn the painting of battle-pieces and will henec-
forth devote herself to sacred art.
A fresh martyrdom occurred in China on the
14th inst. A French mission chapel atNing Kooe,for
the province of Ugan Sali, was attacked by the popu-
lace during the celebration of Mass. The priest and
many of the congregation Avere killed.
It is estimated that in 1785 there was but one
priest to every 1,000 Catholics in the United States;
in 1808 one to every 1,500; in 1830 one to every 1,900;
in 1840 one to 2,000; in 1850 one to 1,200; in 1860 one
to 2,000; in 1875, one to every 1,300, or 5,b74 priests.
The most conspicuous church in the neighbor-
hood of New York is St. Michael's, on Jersey City
Heights. At its side is the monastery of the Passionist
Fathers. The church is very large and beautiful, and
can be seen distinctly from almost any part of Man-
hattan Island.
We have a few odd volumes of the Ave Maria
on hand which will be sent postpaid on receipt of
price to any one wishing them. Vol. I, in neat green
cloth, $2.50; half-morocco extra, $3.25; vols. Ill and
IV, green cloth, $3.50, and a few of the other vols, (ex-
cepting the 5th and 7th) handsomely bound in half-
morocco, $5.00. These volumes are full of interest-
ing and useful reading— articles by Most Rev. Arch-
bishop Spalding, Dr. Brownson, "Clonfert," "Mari-
aphilos," and others, legends of the Blessed Virgin,
poetry, stories, etc.
A colony of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd,
exiled from Fribourg, Germany, some years since
founded a house of their Order at Port Said, in Egypt.
On the 11th of June they were visited by their Bishop,
when three pupils received First Communion, and nine-
teen— among whom were three penitents — received the
Sacrament of Confirmation. On the 15th of June— the
Feast of Corpus Chrsti— a public procession was held
in the streets. It was as solemn as circumstances
permitted. The Mahometan garrison had expressly
turned out in full uniform, forming espalier in the
streets through which the procession had to pass.
Although Jews, Protestants, and Mussulmans far out-
number the Catholic population in Port Said, not the
least sign of irreverence, either by word or gesture,
could be noticed; on the contrary, it is asserted
that a great many of the non-Catholic bystanders
showed unmistakable signs of reverence and devotion.
A correspondent, evidently a physician, in a
letter to the Indo-European Correspondence, relates the
following incident: "On the Feast of the Patronage
of St. Joseph I read in the ' Month of Mary ' of the
wonderful fruits obtained by devotion to the Holy
Rosary. It is related how a Bishop in Spain was un-
able to succeed in reforming his people until he
preached the Rosary. By a strange coincidence, I
heard on that day of the following: We have all read
of the unfortunate voyage of the 'Strathmore' and
the hardships endured by the survivor. One of the
passengers was Mrs. Wordsworth. This lady had re-
ceived a rosary from a Catholic lady (a convert) in
Edinburjfh, who asked Mrs. Wordsworth to use it when
in trouble or affliction. The vessel struck. At the
last moment Mrs. Wordsworth thought of her rosary,
went down to the cabin and secured it. I make no
comments: but I saw it mentioned in the newspapers
that Mrs. Wordsworth is the only female who was
saved."
Some of our readers will remember Captain
Miles AV. Kehoe, who fell by the side of the gallant
Custer in the Sioux massacre, as a brave Papal Zouave,
who oflfured his sword and life to defend the Vicar of
Christ. During the civil war he served on the staff of
Gen. Steadraan. To his adopted country he has been
true and as loyal as he was to his faith. He was the
soul of honor, as fair a specimen of Christian chivalry
as ever entered battle. When the battle-field was
searched, the dead body of Kehoe was found un muti-
lated. Around his neck, attached to a gold chain,
was an Agnus Dei, symbol of liis faith, and a sign of
his child-like devotion. The Sioux knew by that re-
ligious emblem* that he was baptized in the same
faith as their chief— and left his body untouched upon
that sanguinary field of honor. In death, this Catho-
558
Ave Maria.
lie soldier was not forgotten. A poor Catholic girl,
with that charity which is ever3'where distinguished,
called a few days ago at the Cathedral to have Masses
said for the repose of his soul. As a servant in the
household of one of the oflBLcers of the ill-fated expedi-
tion against the Sioux, she became acquainted with
him, and could testify with tears to the modest, hum-
ble piety of this fearless Sdbreur. The charity of this
Catholic girl was as touching as the sad history of
the brave soldier's death. His grave is in the distant
West, where he lies with his Agnus Dei resting upon
his bosom. Peace to the soul of the gallant Papal
Zouave and faithful soldier of the United States. —
Catholic Telegraph.
Everybody in Paris knew Sister Martha. She
was a little, old matron, quite stooped, wearin g two,
sometimes three medals on her breast, and she
could be found wherever misery was to be relieved,
sickness to be nursed, or a wound to be dressed. Sis-
ter Martha, or "the Little Mother" {La petite Mere)
is no more. Feats of true charity like those of this
humble religious are seldom met with. Sister Martha,
who had embraced the religious life when very young,
was always found at the post of danger. Hospital-
Sister in the infirmary at Lyons at the time that the
cholera was thinning the ranks of the population, she
could be found by day and by night at the couch of
the poor plague-stricken sufferers. During the Cri-
mean war she was at Constantinople nursing the poor
French soldiers stricken down by dysentry; in 1859,
in Italy, in charge of the military hospital established
by General Roze at Milan. When the cholera was
ravaging the city of Amiens in 1866, this devoted re-
ligious was there at her post; and the Empress of the
French, while visiting the victims of the plague, was
accompanied by Sister Martha, for whom the noble
Empress asked the cross of honor. A gold medal of
the first class was awarded to her, and a little after-
wards the star of the brave {I'etoile des braves). She
was present during the siege of Paris in 1870 and 1871,
and God alone knows at what pains and sacrifices she
was enabled to spare her unhappy patients the horrors
of hunger and want. She was 78 years of age at the
time of her death. R. I. P.
New Publications.
The Angelus is the name of an excellent Catholic
magazine which we receive regularly from London.
It always contains much instructive and entertaining
readinjT, and in appearance is one of the most elegant
of Catholic periodicals. The August number, which
is the seventh issue, has the following table of con-
tents: I, Lourdes; II, Sir Thomas More; III, Wild
Plants and Thistles; IV, The Under-Current of Life.
Chap. VII; V, The Mahoneys. Chap. VIII; VI, The
Mother's Dream; VII, Diocesan News; VIII, Miscel-
lanea.
The Dublin Review for July contains, I, Professor
Mivartonthe Rights of Conscience; II, Cremation;
III, Mr. Mill on Causation; IV, The United States of
America; V, The Witness of St. Irenaeus to Catholic
Doctrine; VI, Mr. Alfred Austin's Human Tragedy;
VII, A Few More Words on Fessler; VIII, The Repub-
lican Victory "in France; IX, On Religious Unity and
Toleration, by F. Raniere; X, Notices of Books; XI,
Pronouncement on Rosmini's Works.
Obituary.
Rev. Father James F. Dalton, for several years
pastor of St. Joseph's Church, Newark, N. J., and after-
wards in charge of the Church at Bergen Point, died
in the latter place on the 2d inst., after a severe illness
of several weeks duration. Father Dalton was a na-
tive of New York city, was educated at St. Charles and
St. Mary's Colleges, Maryland, and graduated from
Seton Hall. He was ordained in 1865 and was first at-
tached to the Cathedral in Newark, where he endeared
himself to all by charity and devotedness. Later on
he was given charge of St. Joseph's. Fr. Dalton was
greatly esteemed, and gave promise of a bright future.
The funeral took place in Newark, from St. Joseph's.
A solemn requiem Mass was celebrated by Rev. F.
Killeen, with Fathers Steets and O'Connor as deacon
and subdeacon. Bishop Corrigan preached at the
conclusion of the Mass.
Died, at Oakland, Freeborn Co., Minn., August
11th, Margaret, wife of William Chrystie. She
died as she had lived, beloved by all, and a model of
patience and resignation to the Divine will. Although
her sufferings were very great, she bore her long sick-
ness of eight months with the most heroic patience
and Christian fortitude. She was a devout member of
the Living Rosary and Holy Scapular Societies, and
the prayers of the members of these Associations are
earnestly requested for the repose of her soul. She
leaves a husband and three small children to mourn
her loss. She was aged 37 years and 1 month.
Hequiescant in pace.
Association of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart
Report for the Week Ending August 13th, 1876.
Letters received, 150; new members enrolled, 278.
The following intentions have been recommended:
Recovery of health for 115 persons and one family;
Change of life for 65 persons and 4 families; Con-
version to the faith, of 20 persons and 2 families; The
grace of perseverance for 7, of a happy death for 34
persons; Particular graces are asked for 6 priests, 19
religious, 2 clerical students, and 3 secular persons
for a religious vocation. Temporal favors are asked
for 25 individuals, 6 families, 4 communities, 1 con-
greeration, 2 schools, and 1 hospital; Spiritual favors
for 34 individuals, 5 families, 6 communities, 3 schools
and 1 hospital. The following intentions have been
specified: Some persons about to undergo dangerous
surgical operations; Peace and harmony in several
families ; Resources for a widow to support 9 fatherless
children; Some persons leading sinful lives, who by
their employment as miners are much exposed to
danger; Success in business; The building of a chapel
in Kentucky; Reconciliation among brothers; Re-
sources; Several persons who are in poor health are
recommended for conversion; Some scrupulous per-
sons; Two little orphan girls (Catholics) taken from a
Catholic orphan asylum by their Protestant relatives;
Some bad Catholics who give scandal to unbelievers
by word and action.
Ave Maria.
559
FAVORS OBTAINED.
The following extracts are from letters received:
"I have to ofler my most sincere thanks to you, Rev.
dear Father, for a miracle performed by the holy water
of Lourdes. It was a desperate case in the spiritual
order, and now, thanks to our Blessed Lady of Lourdes,
I have not a doubt but that the pious prayers of the
Association had a great deal to do with it!" "Mr.
F.'s child has been entirely cured by the use of the
water of Lourdes." "I became a member of the
Association some time ago and asked for some water
of Lourdes for my husband. Thanks to God and His
Blessed Mother, he ha^ never since spent a cent for
medicine. It is now three months since he began to
improve; he says he cannot find words to express his
gratitude for sending the water." " I am the woman
to whom you sent the blessed water and medal one
year ago this month, and praises be to God and honor
forever to the Queen of Heaven, I am now entirely
cured of a terrible disease that I had for seven years."
...."The Lourdes water did me so much good that I
have not been so well in more than twenty years."....
" When I wrote you last, which was during the winter,
X spoke of having a cancer, for which you sent me the
Lourdes water, and which I used. I think from its
use alone my life is prolonged, for the cancer seems
to grow scarcely any larger, and from time to time
the moisture disappears; and if T am not altogether
cured in this, I thank the Blessed Virgin for blessings
which are perhaps far more beneficial to me."
OBITUAKIES.
The prayers of the Associates are requested in be-
half of the following deceased persons: Louis Cava-
NAUGH, of Dubuque, Iowa, who died on the 30th of
July. Mrs. Susanna S. Brown, of Montgomery Sta-
tion, Indiana, who departed this life on the 4th of
August, in the 65th year of her age. Miss Louisa Mu-
KAUTZ, of Chicago, 111., who was called to her reward
on the 7th of Auifust, in the flower of her age, after a
lingering illness, well fortified with all the consolations
of our holy religion. Miss Bridget Crimmins, of Little
Meadows,"^Pa. Capt. Alexander C. Nolan, of Phila-
delphia, youngest son of the late John and Margaret
(Goslin) Nolan, of Ferns, County Wexford, Ireland.
Capt. Nolan died on the 22d of January last at Port-
land, Oregon, after a short illness. Sister Mary Ag-
NES Hedlt, who died of paralysis of the lungs, at Ot-
tawa. 111., on the 20th of June. Hugh McGovern, Mt.
Carbon, Pa.
May they rest in peace.
A. Granger, C.S. C, Director.
i£hil6ren's Department
Boyhood and Youth of Pius IX.
M. Villefranche gives the following interesting
details concerning the boyhood and youth of Pius
IX, in La Parotsse, a French weekly paper: " Sin-
igaglia is a pretty little city of Umbria, in the Pon-
tifical States, and one of the most ancient in Italy.
It was founded by a tribe of Gauls who came from
the banks of the Seine. At the time that France
was in tlje agonies of the most terrible revolution
of modern times, Sinigaglia had for mayor a gen-
tleman named Jerome Mastai Ferretti. The Mas-
tai family is a very excellent one, and originated
in Crema, Lombardy. It left that city in the
fifteenth century, and established itself at Sini-
gaglia, where it has always been distinguished for
its private virtues and public munificence. It
added the name of Ferretti to that of Mastai, on
the occasion of a matrimonial alliance with the
last heiress of the house of Ferretti. Count Jerome
had for his wife a lady named Catherine Sollazzi.
She bore him several children, of whom the sec-
ond, John ^lary, was destined to become Pope
Pius IX. He was born May 13. 1792. His father
was exceedingly anxious about tlie education of
his children. No one was better acquainted witii
the painful condition of affairs in Europe, and tlie
increase of infidelity disturbed liim greatly. He
took every precaution to secure his innocent off-
spring from iis pernicious influence. In this en-
deavor he was admirably seconded by the good
Countess, his wife, who was a lady of singular
talent and ability.
"John Mary responded to the care and vigilance
of his parents in an admirable manner. He was
a very pretty child, and very intelligent. When
Pius VI was led captive into France, little John
was taught to feel for his sufferings, and used to
add a prayer for him to those which he said at
night. When any news of this unfortunate Pope
was heard, the child expressed the greatest desire
to become acquainted with it. 'How can God
permit such horrors to take place?' he would
ask; 'is He not the Master of all things! Then
why does He permit His Vicar to be dragged
away, like a malefactor, and imprisoned?
"' My child,' the Countess would answer, 'it is
because he is the Vicar of Christ that God allows
him to be treated as Christ was.'
"'But, mother, these French are very wicked
people, and why do you make me pray for them?'
'"Our Saviour, .John, prayed for His enemies.'
" When Pius VI died, people used to say that
there never would be another Pope; and little
John, hearing them, would ask: 'Will there really
never be another Pope?' His mother did all she
could to sustain his faith, and to persuade him
that tliere would be another Pope; and she did
this so well that if anybody expressed a doubt of
it in his presence he would boldly answer: 'I
know there wull be another Pope, because my
mother says there will be one.'
"When John Mary was twelve -years old, he
was sent to the college at Volterra in Tuscany.
This school was directed by the Scolopi Fathers.
His progress was considerable. In the mean time
his uncle, the Bishop of Pesaro, was imprisoned
for his fidelity to Pius VII ; and another uncle, a
Canon of i?t. Peter's, was imprisoned in Rome for
the same cause. So it is easy to see what a faith-
ful and thoroughly Catholic family that of the
present Pope was.
" One day an inspector, deputed by the French
Government to visit all the schools and colleges
in Italy, went to Volterra, and amongst other chil-
dren examined young Mastai. He was so struck
by his brightness of intellect that he said: 'That
child wilTbe a great man before he dies.' This
gentleman died in 1830, when young Mastai was
Archbishop of Spoleto, and, as he knew him well,
used to tell the story of the first impression Mastai
had produced upon him.
John Mastai was six years at school at Volterra.
He pever was in any army, although many biog-
raphers assert that he was a soldier from 1811 to
1812— some under Napoleon, others under Austria.
But this is false; Pius IX never carried arms. He
remained quietly at Sinigaglia until the return of
Pius VII, and was presented to that Pope during
his triumphal progress through the Papal States.
A cruel illness now afflicted him, and i>e was for
some time a victim to epilepsy. He always de-
clared that, under God, he owes his recovery from
560
Ave Maria,
this illness to his mother. On regaining his health
he went to Rome in 1818, but when Cardinal
Prince Odescalchi undertook to preach a mission
at Sinigaglia, Mastai joined himself to him, and
returned to his native city for a short time. This |
Prince Odescalchi afterwards abandoned the pur-
ple to t^^come a Jesuit. Abbe Mastai's ill-health
had hitherto prevented his entering holy orders,
and it was not until December 18, 1818, that he
receiV'Cd the subdiaconate. A little later he was
permitted to say Mass, but on the sole condition
that he said it assisted by another priest. Pius
VII said to him, as he granted this favor: ' I think
I can safely predict that your ill health will be
speedily removed.' It never returned."
Heroic Deed of Charity of Two Young Girls.
Foremost among the virtues which the young
Christian soul should be trained a1 an early age to
practise, is the virtue of fraternal charity. Works
of charity have a special power in subduing and
sanctifying the passions of the youthful breast.
When the spirit of fraternal charity enters the heart
of the youthful Christian, it forestalls and excludes
the spirit of the world. The charitable, by a blessed
necessity, become unworldly, unselfish, pure-
minded, and devout. Moreover, the exercise of
this virtue in early youth multiplies blessings — the
fruitful blessings of the poor — upon the first steps
in life of the young Christian soul. Parents should
rejoice when they behold son or daughter ani-
Hiated by the spirit of fraternal charity. No more
certain foresign could they possess of their child's
future happiness, usefulness, and holiness.
One of the most touching phases of fraternal
charity is the charity of tlie poor for the poor.
Wonderful are the sacrifices which the poor often
impose on themselves for the relief of one another.
And that happens, frequently, when it is the utter
stranger that has to be relieved and provided for.
We shall now place before our readers a heroic
deed of charity performed by two young girls of
very humble rank, for the details of which the
writer can vouch from his own personal knowl-
edge. A poor aged woman, venerable in appear-
ance and bent almost to the ground from years and
infirmities, sank one day exhausted by the wayside
in one of the-ciiief tiioroughfares of the city of
Dublin. The writer cannot give her history; she
was evidently one who had seen better days, though
now seemingly utterly destitute and friendless.
For this poor woman God Is preparing a singular
mercy. Who are to be the chosen instruments of
His compassion in her regard? Many went by
without noticing her wants and afflictions, and her
heart is sinking under a load of despondency as
she perceives that the day is waning and nobody
comes to her relief. M last she is approache'd
by two young girls. They have just lost their
widowed mother, whose only support they had
been for some years. The low moaning o£ the
poor aged woman at the street-side attracts their
attention. As they fix their pitying eyes upon her,
a common thought flashes across their minds. It
is an inspiration from the God of charity. There
was a moment of silence. At last one said to the
other, " Sister, it occurs to me that God would be
pleased with us if, out of love for Him, we adopted
this poor woman as our mother, and took her to
our home, and watched over her as long as she
lived." "How strange!' replied the other; "the
same thought was in my mind when you spoke.
It must be" God Himself who has put it into our
hearts. He helped us to provide for our own dear
mother till her death; He will also certainly help
us to provide for this poor woman, if we adopt her
as our mother." These generous-hearted young-
girls determined to carry out the magnanimous
resolution of adopting that poor aged stranger, to
whom they had not yet spoken even a word, as
their mother. They could not be ignorant of the
toil and anxiety and the tnany privations they
would have to face in taking upon themselves the
burden of this poor woman's support. They si-
lenced, however, all fears by these words, so full
of simple beautiful trust in God: "God helped us
to provide for our own mother. He will also help
us to provide for this poor woman." Her consent
to their charitable proposal had to be obtained.
Modestly they approach her, and address her as if
asking some great favor from her. The face of the
poor aged woman brightened with joy as she heard
the proposal made to her. Perhaps in former years
God had deprived her of loving daughters, whose
lives she had offered up to Him with resignation,
and now He, who never forgets to reward for every
sacrifice endured for His sake, is about to raise up
for her other daughters, who will love her and
watch by her till the end of her pilgrimage.
The poor aged stranger is transferred to the
home of these charitable young girls, and installed
in their mother's place. She was worthy of all
their fond reverence. She was one of God's hid-
den saints. Prayer was her continual and most
consoling occupation. The writer was one day in-
vited to visit this aged servant of God. He found
her kneeling on her lowly couch, in silent but ear-
nest prayer. Everything around her was very
humble, but perfectly neat and clean. Under her
eyes was an altar decorated with lights and flow-
ers, in the centre of which was a crucifix and a
statue of the Immaculate Mother. The altar was
placed thoughtfully for her benefit on the ground,
as owing to her very stooped posture she could not
fix her eyes upon it had it occupied a higher level.
At her side stood her two gentle benefactresses,
contemplating with beaming faces the happiness
of her whom, though a stranger, they loved as their
own mother. Well might they gaze with delight
on such a scene — the work of their own liands and
hearts, of their faith and of their love. How many,
with thousands yearly at their disposal, have never
once created such a joy! Tiie writer could ill sup-
press a tear as he heard this venerable woman re-
late, with grateful emotion, all that had been done
for her by these pious young girls. On their part,
they seemed entirely unconscious of the great
beauty and merit of their self- forgetting devoted-
ness and charity. They continued their loving
care of their adopted mother untill the advent of
her happy death. They knelt to receive her bless-
ing when she was dying, and surely it must have
sunk deeply into their souls. It is not likely these
lines will ever meet their eyes. They belonged to
a class who pray much, who labor much, but who
read little. Years have since gone by. Perhaps
they have already joined their aged protegee in
heaven, and have heard those words from the lips
of Jesus as they passed before His judgment throne :
"I was a stranger, and you took Me in; I was
hungry, and you gave Me to eat; come, ye blessed
of My Father.."
THE
AYE MARIA.
•Henceforth all genei\a.tion3 shall call me Blessed.
—St. Luke, i., 48.
Vol. XII.
NOTRE DAME, IND., SEPTEMBER 2, 1876.
No. 36.
"Behold thy Mother."
FROM THE GERMAN OP REV. P. ROH, 8. J.
(Concluded.)
This mutual intercession takes its rise in the
idea of community, which the Church of Christ
creates; and I now ask if we poor sinners
do not pray in vain for one another here on
earth, will the saints in heaven, our brothers and
sisters who are gone before us, who stand before
the Face of God, who no longer are stained with
the slightest stain, and are thus well pleasing to
God, will they pray in vain, or can they remain
indifferent towards their brothers and sisters who
here on earth are beset with so *many dangers,
who have so many wants, who are so weak and
need their prayers in so great a degree? Or will
it be objected to us that the saints in heaven know
nothing about us any more ? Friends, dear friends,
never let such speech as that pass your lips; it
is the most frightful that anyone can utter,
when he says that the blessed in heaven know
nothing of us or care nothing about us. By say-
ing this you abjure the unity of the Church of
Christ, you utter a principle that undervalues fear-
futly the doctrines of the immortality of the soul
and of the happiness of heaven. For if so be and in
so far as the sair^ts in heaven know nothing of us
and of the whole creation of God, I might ask do
they yet live, do they find themselves in the con-
dition of perfect blessedness ? I have ever believed
the life of the blessed in God consisted precisely
in the perfect intellectual consciousness, in the
most perfect knowledge of God and of His works.
I have always thought that the life of the blessed
in God was the life of perfect love, a love which
embraces all and every one whom God loves, which
sympathizes with everything that has worth be-
fore G>d. What! the saints in heaven are to know
nothing about us? Where is heaven then, ac-
cording to this representation ? How far is it from
here? I have always cherished the belief that
heaven is in fact everywhere that God is ; I have
ever believed that the infinite, immeasurable God
is present everywhere; and it appears to me there-
fore that a soul, that a spirit can enjoy perfect bliss,
and enjoy it in every place, only when he is per-
fectly united with God and looks on God, face to
Face; and never have I doubted that he who is
perfected in God rejoices not only because he sees
God, but because he also beholds the whole crea-
tion ; that he feels himself happy in admiring this,
while he praises Almighty God in all His works.
I beseech you therefore, friends, hold in abhor-
rence the speech which intimates that the saints
know nothing about us; it falls cold on the heart
of man, like an assault of Hell; it is no truth; it
is an abomination.
On the other hand, it is not to be doubted that
we speak in unison with God's will when we say
that our father and our mother, our brothers and
and sisters, who fell asleep in Christ, are above
with our Father; but they have not forgotten us;
their love has not ceased, but has become purer,
more perfect, more interior, more universal ; they
love us still, and think of us with love ; and cer-
tainly it is for them a matter of the heart to offer
up petitions to our dear God for their poor ardently-
loved friends whom they have left behind, that
their life on earth may not occasion for them the
loss of Eternity — that they may not miss the way
which alone can reunite them. Oh, I feel myself
happy in the belief that not only God sees me, —
He who indeed is all-merciful, all-benignant, but
also all-just and all-holy, my Lawgiver and Judge,
and who therefore is to me, a poor sinner, 'a fear-
ful God,' even though He offers Himself to me to
be named 'my Father.' For though well I know
that He loves me, I myself, throughout my life,
have never been able to say that I am a wortliy
child of such a Father, and therefore it is a conso.
562
Ave Maria.
lation to me to know that I stand not alone, with
all my misery and all my failings, before the infin-
itely all-holy God. No : there are great crowds of
good, loving friends in heaven who speak a good
word for me ; and among these intercessors with
God I have special confidence in the Blessed Vir-
gin, the Mother of my Redeemer ; for this I know,
that she has never sinned, never displeased God, —
and, to sum up everything in one word, that the
heavenly Father loves this Mother as the Mother
of His only Son, and the Son loves her as His own
Mother, and the Holy Ghost loves her as His own
pure Bride.
Her word to her Son is not precisely a command,
for Christ is Lord, Christ is God; but such a
Mother need not command such a Son — could not
even wish to do so ,- it is enough for her to say :
My Son, they need this or that. This we wit-
nessed at the marriage-feast of Cana in Galilee.
Christ had not yet resolved to reveal His miracu-
lous omnipotence, therefore He at first answers;
" My hour is not yet come " ; but it is not the less
true that He performed His first miracle at Mary's
request.
Therefore I venture to pronounce it an incon-
testable truth that it belongs to the Christian love
which should unite us all as members of the Church
of Christ, in God and with God, that we should
entertain a grateful and child-like love for the
saints of God, but above all for the Blessed Vir-
gin Mary. We must not indeed love her as the
highest good, as infinite beauty, as boundless per-
fection. God only is this. Mary, in the splendor
of her heavenly beauty, still remains, and must
through eternity remain, far from being this.
However high she may stand, the most distin-
guished among all, the first of creatures, of the
works of God, she must ever find herself never-
theless at an infinite, immeasurable distance from
God. But He, Himself, who gave the command :
"Thou Shalt love God," and so forth. He it was
who added, "and thy neighbor as thyself," and
this second command is inseparable from the
first. I have been inexpressibly pained, in the
difierent missions at which I have assisted, to
meet with men who not only did not honor the
Blessed Virgin, but who ridiculed her in the most
abominable manner. I have had caricatures in
my hand which were the expression of the high-
est degree of these disgraceful insults, and these
caricatures were the work of men who would fain
pass for Christians. These unhappy beings do
not understand that all mockery of the Blessed
Virgin recoils of necessity upon Christ Himself;
and that a Christian who mocks at Christ de-
serves to be named the vilest reptile in creation.
To call one's self a Christian and to mock at
Christ ! Now, in such a case it must be acknowl-
edged that the spirit of error must have com-
pletely mastered not only the human understand-
ing but every human feeling; it has led men into
insanity. Dear Christian friends, if we cannot
reach heaven unless we fulfil the command to
love our neighbor in every human being, even
were he a Turk or a heathen, even were he base,
vile, or criminal, how can a man think to win en-
trahce into heaven if he does not love Mary, the
Mother of our Redeemer, the Mother of the heav-
enly King? If we can find no entrance into
heaven unless we are clothed with the wedding-
garment of Christian love, with love for God and
man ; when it is firmly established as a truth that
we shall be turned away from the entrance to that
kingdom if we present ourselves with the least, I
will not say enmity, but with the least coldness
or indifterence in our hearts against any one fel-
low-being— how were it possible that we should
be admitted therein by Christ if we are cold and
indifferent to His Mother? Heaven, my friends,
is the home of the eternal, perfected peace and
love. There, nothing defiled can enter! Far
from thence all stripes, all mockeries, all cold un-
loving hearts. Every heart that closes itself to
the love of God has its home in hell ; in heaven at
least it will find no place. Dear friends, I ask
you, if you really believe that you owe everything
to Christ, if you have no other hope in eternity
than in Christ and through Christ, how can you
be cold and indifferent to the Mother of Christ,
who stood at the foot of the Cross and drank out
a sea of bitterness ?
Oh, my friends, the early Christians, the Apos-
tles, were not of this mind towards Mary. We
are referred to primitive Christianity: well, then,
place yourself in spirit with me in the first days
and the first years after our Lord's Ascension, or
during His lifetime here on earth. If you had
been one of the twelve Apostles, or one of Christ's
faithful disciples and followers, what would have
been your thought respecting Mary? In what
light would you have looked upon her? How
would you have comported yourself if you had
passed by her or met her? How do you think
the Apostles or the early Christians behaved to
the most Blessed Virgin after Christ's Ascension ?
I see them assembled as children around their
Mother. She has not indeed, if I may so express
it, any peculiar official position among them, but
a mother's heart always exercises a power over
her children. The history of the Apostles even
shows us them united in prayer with the Mother
of Jesus when the Holy Ghost came upon them.
I am convinced of it, my friends, that every one
who really believes in Christ, in Mary's Son a&
Ave Maria,
563
God, that such a one can only have such a genu
ine veneration for the Blessed Virgin that it is not
possible for him to despise lier, either in words or
thoughts^ yes, I am convinced that many of these
even then uttered to her the words : " Holy Mary,
Mother of God, pray for us poor sinners! " O yes,
dear friends, could you not then go back in spirit
to these first times and unite yourselves with us in
this beautiful prayer to your Mother?
Once upon a time, in former days, the Angel's
salutation to the Mother of God was taught to all
with the prayer made by our Lord, her Son. It
was in the ninth century that your forefathers
learnt to know the true God and to worship Him
alone. The saintly Ansgar, spiritual father and
teacher of the Danish people, had a great rever-
ence for the saints, and a faithful devotion to the
Mother of God. At that time, in accordance with
ancient Christianity, every Christian child was
taught to utter with reverence, confidence and love
the name of Mary together with the Divine Name
of Jesus; and when the "Our Father " had been
prayed, the beautiful salutation was added : " Holy
Mary, Mother of God; Hail, full of grace, the
Lord is with thee, thou blessed one among women."
These are words of the Angel and of the holy
Elizabeth; they stand in Holy Scripture. You
surely cannot do wrong in repeating the words of
the Angel and of the holy Elizabeth. God will
not call you to account, and Christ will not be
jealous on the subject; nor will He be jealous if
you add : " Holy Moth^er of God, pray for me a
poor sinner, now and at the hour of death." O
happy are they who on the bosom of a pious
Christian mother have learnt from childhood up-
wards to call on their Father and Mother in heaven !
Happy are all ye children, you who have already
in childhood learnt to know your spiritual Mother,
Mother of your Redeemer, your Brother and your
God.
Therefore, my dear children, and I speak here
to God's great and little children, never forget that
besides a Redeemer, whom you must alone wor-
ship, you must also invoke with filial reverence
that Redeemer's Mother. Place, then, your whole
hope upon God, for He is the source of all the good
which we can desire and receive. When you have
not confidence enough in yourself to deem your
own co-operation sufficient, then have recourse to
the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. The
Church teaches that it is a pious and salutary prac-
tice to invoke the prayers of the Saints. She does
not command it, she does not say that it is neces-
sary ; she says only that it is pious, useful and sal-
utary, yes, indeed, and it will be salutary for you!
On this account, I beseech you, Christian mothers,
teach your children this prayer; cherish well this
devotion in your hearts. It has till now stood the
test as being a powerful means of keeping living
and effective the faith in Christ her Son; and
wherever they have left off" calling Mary the
Mother of God, they have also in some sort ceased
to consider Christ as G<jd. Yes, it is a fact, alas too
true! wherever Mary is no longer held in honor,
the worship of Christ has also begun to cease.
On another account also, we lay much stress on
devotion to the Blessed Virgin ; namely : this devo-
tion has approved a higher consciousness in the
female sex; it has raised and sustained a purer
sense in woman, directing her thoughts to things
divine. But if it can truly be said that these bene-
ficial results have been brought about, there is one
among them which deserves particular mention.
This devotion has everywhere strengthene.d and
confirmed love to the most beautiful of all Chris-
tian virtues, purity and chastity. Yes, it has
brought a rich harvest of happiness and blessing.
The pious brotherhoods, and sodalities of young
people of both sexes, who have placed themselves
under the protection of the Virgin of virgins, ever
afford a rich source of consolation for many heav-
ily-laden, oppressed hearts, who were nigh unto
despair.
Finally, every observer of human nature has
certainly made the remark that those who have the
misfortune to lose their mother when young, never
attain a like development with those who grow up
at the side of a pious mother. That which is true
of the corporal existence of man is also true of his
spiritual development. Father and mother are
presupposed for the one as well as for the other.
We cannot do without a mother if we are to at-
tain our proper growth as human beings, and God
came to the relief of this urgent need of our human
nature when He gave us a spiritual Mother, whose
arms are spread out widely enough to embrace all
here on earth, to take us all under her protec-
tion,— who hears every sigh, because she is al-
ways with God, the All-seeing, the All-knowing !
Yes, dear friends, something essential is wanting
to religion when there is no mother. I think I
may place myself side by side with many other
Christians with respect to understanding Chris-
tian dogma, and yet I speak the inmost convic-
tions of my heart when I say that next to my
faith in Jesus as God I have to thank my devotion
to the Blessed Virgin for all the joy, all the consola-
tion which Christianity has given me; and I bless
my pious mother a thousand times, in her grave,
for teaching me to say not only the " Our Father"
but the Angelical Salutation. There are many
bitter hours in the life of every man, many
dangers, great temptations; a heart often finds no
sympathy, no compassion amongst its fellows ; but
564
Ave Maria.
Mary never deserts ns. The invocation, "Holy-
Mary, Mother of G«od, pray for us sinners," has
ever been a consolation for my heart, and never
in vain have I sent up that prayer to her. O my
Mother! to thee I commend all my fellow-men;
take them to thy heart and protect them. I com-
mend to thee all who are earnestly seeking after
truth. O pray for them, that they may find it ; pray
for them, that they may come to Christ and partici-
pate in the fruits of His redemption! O Mother! I
specially commend to thee youth and childhood, so
susceptible of all noble impressions. O Mother!
the earth is so cold, the world is so cold, O keep
these little children warm! Protect their inno-
cence ; preserve it pure and unspotted ! O protect
these young people, exposed to so many combats ;
console those who are of riper age, in their cares
and troubles; console the dying; pray for us sin-
ners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
Feast (rf the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin
Mary.
Aurora quae Sdlem parts.
Sweet Morn ! thou Parent of the Sun !
And Daughter of the same!
What joy and gladness, through thy birth,
This day to mortals came!
Clothed in the Sun I see thee stand,
The Moon beneath thy feet;
The Stars above thy sacred head
A radiant coronet.
Thrones and Dominions gird thee round.
The Armies of the sky ;
Pure streams of glory from thee flow.
All bathed in Deity!
Terrific as the banner'd line
Of battle's dread array !
Before thee tremble Hell and Death,
And own thy mighty sway :
While crush'd beneath thy dauntless foot.
The Serpent writhes in vain;
Smit by a deadly stroke, and bound
In an eternal chain.
O Mightiest! pray for us, that He
Who came to thee of yore,
May come to dwell within our hearts.
And never quit us more.
Praise to the Father, with the Son,
And Holy Ghost, through whom
The Word eternal was conceived
Within the Virgin's womb.
Caswall.
The Battle of Connemara.
CHAPTER VI.— (Continued.)
Three years had elapsed, two of which Lady
Margaret had passed abroad. She had been
finally compelled to yield to the advice of friends
and the warnings of her health, and to abandon
the solitary life which she had led for the first
years of her widowhood, and seek both physical
strength and mental courage in change of scene
and climate. After a year spent in the south, she
had come to Paris, and was to remain there until
the heat came and sent her home to the cool sea-
breezes of Connemara. She longed to be at home,
to be once more amongst her husband's people
and amidst the scenes of her happy married
life. Lady Margaret had long since regained her
natural cheerfulness, and recovered from the poig-
nant sense of her bereavement; the memory of
her lost husband was as fresh in her heart as ever,
but hers was not a morbid nature that cherished
grief for grief's sake. She had many blessings yet,
youth and health and a rich capacity for the ra-
tio 
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