night he used to betake himself to the hospitals of the city and minister to the sick. After his death the Lord glorified the charity and self-abjection of His servant by preserving his right hand from corruption when the rest of his body had decayed. The 17th is the feast of the Stigmata of St. Francis Assisi, or the impressing on his hands, feet, and side of the Sacred Wounds of our Divine Lord; and the 21st is that of St. Matthew, Apostle, a model of prompt obedience to the call of God. On the 27th the physicians among our readers will be glad to find two saints of their profession, Saints Cosmas and Damian, Martyrs. Even a physician may tread the higher paths of perfection. WOMEN SAINTS.-On Tuesday, the 4th, comes St. Rose of Viterbo, her face all radiant with the halo of purity and innocence. Of this Saint it is related that once, when she was carrying some loaves of bread to the poor, she was surprised by her father, who had no sympathy with her benefactions. Upon his asking her what she was carrying she opened the fold of her dress to show him her burden, when, wonderful to relate, the loaves were changed to roses! On the 7th occurs the feast of St. Regina, a pattern of courage in self-conquest. PROMOTERS' PATRONS.-On Saturday, the 15th, the Promoters of the League will be glad to find as one of their Patrons St. Catharine of Genoa. We especially recommend devotion to this Saint to all those who are afflicted by domestic troubles arising from the vices of members of their families. For ten long years she endured the selfish brutality of a profligate husband. persevering prayers at last obtained his conversion. Her The second in order (29th) is St. Michael the Archangel, whose battle-cry, "Who is like unto God?" may well be associated with the motto inscribed on the Badges of the League of the Sacred Heart, "Thy Kingdom Come!" Casting a backward glance at the Saints of the month we find an uncommonly large number of examples of the most heroic selfhumiliation, especially in behalf of the poor and unfortunate. Let us hope that the clients of these Saints may learn from their patrons that the highest and best hopes for eternity are founded in self-annihilation for Christ's dear love in time, and That men may rise on stepping stones By Sister C. [These lines were suggested by the following circumstance:-A lady, who is now an exemplary Catholic, attributes her conversion to the simple touch of a Sister's veil. The Sister was returning from Holy Communion, and as she passed, the edge of her veil brushed the face of the lady who was at the time a non-believer. The incident occurred at St. Mary's, Vigo Co., Indiana.] W AS it the touch of the sombre veil That awakened my soul this morning, That caused me so joyous a feeling, The delicate fabric but kissed my face, With unspeakable fire a-glowing. I questioned and listened-the answer came, "Ah! soul, 'twas the Lord that touched thy heart 'Twas He, thy Redeemer, Who came to save, His own Precious Life still giving That the dead might rise from their grave of sin, "Ah! lend a responsive ear, poor soul, To thy Saviour so gently pleading: Arise, and follow His gracious call, The world and its pleasures unheeding. "Arise, and enter the one true Fold, Its sweets of virtue breathing, And with garlands of faith and hope and love, Return to the altar thy fathers left, Let thy soul be prompt in awaking: 'Tis for want of this active and earnest faith, That the heart of the world is breaking." In ravishing awe I hearkened still The words my soul were burning— And out of my trembling and wondering heart, And I knelt me down and prayed this prayer: Receive, dear Lord, Thy straying child— No more I ask: "What was it, pray, That thrilled my soul this morning?" And responsive now I hold each truth Thy holy Church revealeth, And pray Thee to cherish the child that now At Thine altar a convert kneeleth. OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL, Washington, Daviess Co., Ind. THE MADONNA OF THE EMERALD. NE afternoon, about five hundred years ago, the podestà or mayor of Fiesole, was making a tour round his city-for Fiesole is a very old city as the appearance of its great thick walls now testifies. Fiesole rests upon one of the lower ridges of the Appenines, and looks down from a distance on the Arno and on Florence the Superb. But the podestà had no thought just then of admiration for the beautiful panorama thus unfolded. In his journey he passed by the garden of the Friars Preachers. It was not yet strictly enclosed, as the monastery had only been recently built, and looking in he saw that the sons of Saint Dominic had a garden of roses which he thought unmatched for beauty and fragrance. These roses were due to the care of Brother Simplicius, who, by his prior's orders, devoted his time to watering the young plants and flowers. Simplicius was not a doctor of canon law. He was only a humble and faithful lay brother, who wrought out his perfection by drawing water from a fountain. He was a candid, simple soul, beyond reproach, who counted the Ave Marias of his rosary by the number of times his watering-pots were emptied and filled. If ever a sin had stained his robe of innocence, it must have been a sin of pride, in looking at the sweet-scented flowers which he lovingly prepared to decorate the sanctuary. At the recitation of the Office, when he saw them adorning the Tabernacle or blossoming like a purple carpet under the celebrant's feet, he found it hard to repel a temptation to vanity. It seemed to him that the cloister Madonna used to smile with more than her usual complaisance on his garlands. He shared, of course, the enthusiasm of all Tuscany for the delightful frescoes which a young monk, Fra Giovanni, had profusely lavished on every ceiling and wall of the new monastery; but at times he was ready to think that the homage of his roses was purer and sweeter and more tenderly received by the Queen of nature. Poor Simplicius! What anguish would have risen in his soul, so crystal-like in its innocence, could he have known that the success of his gardening was going to give such a turn to the musings of the mayor. 66 The mayor had stopped, as we have seen, to admire the roses. "How this piece of ground has been improved!" he murmured. Formerly nothing but rocks and pebbles were here. I see the city did not know how to get her lawful profit from the place, and that is why I let the Fathers install themselves in this forsaken spot without protest. If I had imagined they could make such a beautiful garden of it, I should certainly have asked of them a hundred gold crowns. The money would be very handy just now in our treasury; for down at Foligno they are asking us for sixty Roman crowns to paint the Madonna, which we want on the high altar of our cathedral! "But stop a bit. Is it really too late? Not a single document confirms the surrender of the city property. It would be the duty of a good executive to require some compensation before acknowledging as lawful the settling of the Friars Preachers in this place!" These thoughts continued to fill the podestà's mind on his way home, and during his supper, and even, I must confess, during his evening prayer. As, however, he was not an unbeliever, he determined, before he exposed his plan to the city council, to have an understanding with the Friars, and in this way, perhaps, be able to offer his fellow-citizens a solution which would at once conciliate all interests. The next morning he called at the convent to open his thoughts to the Reverend Prior. His demand was wholly unexpected, and the Prior was overcome with embarrassment. He was not a politician, and easily granted the rights of the city of Fiesole; but he recalled the fact that he had occupied a deserted and uncultivated piece of ground, concerning which the benevolent silence of the authorities had the effect of a tacit surrender. "All will happen," he concluded humbly, "as it may please God and your Lordship. But your Lordship knows that we are mendicants by vow and by profession, that our holy Father Dominic has forbidden us to make bargains, and that we have not a penny nor a sword. If we are driven out, we will leave you our poor garden and buildings, and go to fix our tent where the good God wishes!" The podestà had not considered this side of the case-that the Friar Preachers might leave Fiesole. They were very much beloved in the city, and he himself had only respect and attachment for them. He protested, therefore, with sincerity that he expected nothing of the sort. "Yet," he added, "your Reverence must want a title to the property, and, in spite of our good-will, the state of our treasury will not allow us to make you a pure donation. So let us try to agree on a compromise.' A compromise was accordingly effected, and the first one informed of it was the young painter-monk. The Prior went to find him on his scaffold in the chapter-hall. 66 Brother," he said, "leave that work for the present. The gift of art which God has given you must now be employed for the safety of our house. The authorities of the city ask for an important picture—a picture of the Virgin Mary, one into which you must put your whole soul. We are to offer it to the city for the high altar in its cathedral, and the city will give us in exchange the ground on which our monastery stands, which, it seems, is not yet ours. Shall you need a model?” 66 The model is there," said Giovanni, looking with a seraphic gaze towards heaven. "Be quick then," said the Prior, "Brother Simplicius will be under your direction, to break the colors and otherwise help you in the material preparation of your work." The young monk bowed and started away immediately to lock himself up with his assistant in his humble studio. He first knelt down and prayed most fervently, and gradually, as the heat of his faith and piety lit up his artist's fancy, the type of the Virgin seemed to rise up before him. With his eyes fixed on this Divine |