they often recur to my mind, each night that closes over us brings us nearer the wished for dawn. How happy shall we be to meet our mother, never more, I hope, to be separated."

66

See, the sun is sinking fast: do you think he will be here to-night?"

"I hope so there is nearly another hour before sunset. Let us read now, then perhaps we may persuade him to remain with us a little longer. I have many things to ask him."

"Oh! I dread his coming: I do not know how I can see him. Do you think he will kill me, and give me to those horrid creatures, which in my sleep yesterday I thought eat me up. Or," she said, crying, "he will let you go home, and leave me here ; then I must be lost, for I am so heedless."

"Comfort yourself, Rosalie; our friend is very strict, but I do not think him so cruel as you imagine. How grieved he seemed when he came last time."

"The more I think of that the more wretched I feel, my behaviour has been so wicked. Kind brother, where should I have been but for you? ?"

"Do not say so, Rosalie; I am poor and weak like yourself; my utmost exertions were unavailing; nothing roused you from your apathy, save the waters of that healing fountain, by His grace Who alone can help in our time of need."

"All hail! To the believing nothing is impossible, to those who trust and love their Heavenly FATHER," said their friend, advancing towards them. "I come also to say you are forgiven your folly; more mercy and grace are still in store for those who seek it aright."

He stopped, and looking up into his face, they burst into a flood of happy tears, crying out in spite of their awe,

"We are not worthy of so much pity and so great love: we are foolish unprofitable children, and deserve nothing but the wrath of our offended FATHER.'

66

دو

"He is most merciful, not punishing according to the deserts of any," said the Stranger. Will you try to love Him more and more?"

"With His good help," said both of them at once.

"Listen once more to my words: as you have been found to do your duty so far, not without hindrances, yet on the whole to well-pleasing, you are forgiven all that is past; it will not be mentioned any more, being wiped away from the remembrance of your Judge. There are three things immediately around you to remind you of your duty, and that this is not your abidingplace. Conscience, implanted in your hearts to warn and encourage you, it will never deceive you: how soon its warnings may be heedlessly treated, you both know."

The children coloured.

"Your mother's gift then will guide your conscience; you cannot therefore study it too often or too much. Lastly there is time, a gift bestowed alike on every one. Oh! how differently treated; some guard it, using it discreetly, thinking its price above gold and precious stones, praying they may not abuse it, winning it for their friend, instead of making it a bitter enemy to witness against them. You do not know how many thousands sleep and eat, talk of trifles, and do numberless things, in order to get rid of this annoyance, time; when one day they would part with all they possess to have another hour given them. Tell me then how it hath passed with you, Ernest ?"

"Day after day hath seemed long in leading me homewards; yet, on looking back, I wonder we have been permitted to do so much."

"That is well; and with you, Rosalie ?"

"It hath seemed ever wearisome and long; I pine for home: yesterday was a very short day, for I feared to see you." "We would ask you of our mother," said Ernest. "Is she well? Does she mourn for us? Why hath she not sent some message of love by your hands?"

A mother's love cannot rest: she knoweth where you are, and each hour is marked by joy when she hears of your obedience and faithfulness, and that you are looking forward to meeting her in your happy home. Persevere, then, for a few more days, and you shall be clasped in her arms."

"How

"O, how joyful! how delightful!" said the children. can we return you thanks for your kindness in telling us our duty!"

"By trying more and more to do that duty aright towards your parents and all men; by remembering my words; by calling to mind amid the pleasures of the world, the time of trial spent in the Forest of Desolation; how the most dreary and horrible places may become beautiful to those who endeavour, wherever they are placed, to do their duty aright, and spend their time profitably. The purpose for which I have been sent has been nearly accomplished, and my little children, henceforth you will see my face no more."

"Is this to be your last visit? Shall we never see you again? How can we get home without your guidance, for we do not know the road?"

"You will need no rules for your journey; it will be very easily accomplished without any previous knowledge."

"May we take our gentle doves with us?" said Rosalie; "and if we should win the immortal lily, that also?"

"You can carry nothing away with you but what you brought

to this place: those singing birds were to console and delight you in this wilderness; in your own home you will not require their presence; after your departure they will go too. The immortal lily will remain with you always, after you have once attained it, and its sweet savour will ascend with your prayers daily, bearing testimony to your faith and love."

"O, how delightful that will be, Ernest! And will you be kind enough to tell us by what name we ought to speak of you?"

"Little children, I am one of an innumerable company, disbelieved in by many, because unseen and unfelt. Yet we are everywhere present, waiting devotedly on those who have been delivered into our charge, leading them on gently amid the precipices and quicksands of this evil state to that glorious abode, where neither sorrow nor sin may enter: we are guardians to the souls of all those who are heirs of that kingdom unknown to mortal men.

"We have been since the foundation of the world appearing to holy men of old; watching with those who looked for the Day-Star to arise; accompanying Him when here below in sorrow and suffering, He bowed His head for the wickedness of His creatures, admiring with them His ascension into the realms of glory. Here He hath left us to obey His commands, watching over His beloved ones, singing psalms of joy and thanksgiving when they turn from the paths of sin to His fold, and are numbered amongst His sheep: veiling our faces, while tears chase down our cheeks, when they are drawn away by the evil one, from the ways of peace.

دو

Ernest and Rosalie drew back as he spoke these words, and in a low fearful whisper exclaimed,

“It is an Angel then.”

"Fear me not, therefore, little children, I am the Angel of Life. I have been by your side when you saw me not, listening to your voices, and joining in your songs of joy: in sleeping and in waking, at play or study, in sorrow or grief, unperceived, I have been with you. Now you see me face to face; why this trembling? Look at me; am I so stern that you should dread me so?"

66

Then placing his hands upon their heads, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, seeming to commend them to an unknown care. May everlasting peace and joy be with you. Fare you well:" and turning away, Ernest and Rosalie were alone in the forest.

The poor children sat down and cried bitterly for some time; at length Rosalie broke the silence, saying,

"O, Ernest! what a kind friend we have found! Think of his

being so well acquainted with us, and our not knowing anything about it !"

"I am so grieved we shall never see him again; yet it is a very great joy to know he is always about us, and watching and guarding us. I wonder how we are to find the immortal lily, if he does not bring it us !"

"So do I, perhaps we shall know by and by; I could cry more and more when I think how much my naughty behaviour has grieved my best friend. Yet he did not say one word about it."

"I thought he alluded to something of that kind when he said that we did not always listen to our consciences."

"O, yes! I wish I had such a good memory as you, dear Ernest; you seem to recollect every word; I am so apt to forget.'

66

Your memory is better than mine," said her brother. You learn everything faster than I can do, but I fear you do not think as well as learn."

"Only another week and then home," said Rosalie, clapping her hands; "that is something worth thinking of, is it not? Come here, good old Fido, let me tell you. Do you know we are going home to dear mamma this very next week? Is not that good news, Fido?"

The poor dog seemed really to understand her words, for he jumped and frisked about. The doves cooed incessantly, and even Ernest smiled to see them all so happy.

S. AUGUSTINE.
CHAP. II.

As soon as the doubts which had long perplexed S. Augustine were removed, he became anxious to give up the Professorship which he held. But in order to avoid especial observation, he deferred doing this until the ensuing vacation, when he had a sufficient reason to assign, his health having been materially injured. As soon as he had taken this step, accompanied by his mother, Adeodatus his son, and one or two other friends, Augustine retired to the house of a friend at Capsacum near Milan. Here in quiet seclusion he prepared himself by prayer, meditation, and self-denial, for the vows he was about to take upon himself. In the spring of 387 they returned to Milan, and had their names registered among the catechumens. During this time they attended the Lenten instructions, which were being delivered by S. Ambrose. The sensation which Augustine felt on hearing the chants which had

been recently introduced, is thus described: "How did I weep at the hymns and canticles, touched most deeply by the voices of Thy sweetly attuned Church. The voices flowed into mine ears, and the truth distilled into my heart, whence the affections of my devotion overflowed, and tears ran down my cheeks, and I was indeed most happy." It is probable that their baptism took place on the Easter eve of 387.

Not long after his reception into the Church, Augustine determined to return to Africa. On their way they rested at Ostia. One evening as he and his mother were sitting together in the house, they discoursed very sweetly; " and forgetting those things which were behind, and reaching forward unto those which are before, they were inquiring between themselves, in the presence of the Truth, which Thou art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man." As they conversed their souls warmed within them, and the more they dwelt on the glowing theme, the more did they pass through all things bodily, and enter as it were into the very joys of heaven. At last his mother said, "Son, what I do here any longer, and for what purpose I am here, I know not, now that all my hopes in this world are fulfilled. One thing there was for which I desired to linger awhile in this life, that I might see thee a Catholic Christian before I died. My GOD hath done this for me more abundantly, that I should now see thee also despising earthly happiness because His servant. What do I here?"

A few days afterwards she fell sick and became insensible. On the recovery of her reason, she was appealed to as to the place of her burial, and made answer; "Lay this body where you please, I pray you only remember me at the altar of GOD, wherever you may be." On her decease Augustine paid her the last mournful tribute of affection, and went to Rome, where he remained for some time, refuting the Manichæan heresy. Thence he went to Carthage, and subsequently to Targaste, where he became the head of a brotherhood, devoted to fasting, prayer, and good works. During his retreat here his son Adeodatus died in his eighteenth year. that boy," says Augustine, "I had no part but the sin. For that we brought him up in Thy discipline, it was Thou, and none else, that had inspired us with it. I confess unto Thee Thy gifts, O LORD MY GOD. Excellent hast Thou made him. In genius he surpassed many grave and learned men. That talent struck awe

"In

into me. And who but Thou could be the maker of such wonders? Soon didst Thou take his life from earth; and I now remember him without anxiety, fearing nothing for his childhood, or his youth, or his whole self."

One so framed and moulded and endowed with such powers as Augustine, was not intended to enjoy his seclusion for any length