degrees, perceiving the meekness and holiness of Fridolin, her ill-will and dislike were changed into esteem and confidence. She even confided the education of her daughter to Fridolin's And this maiden was the first to enter the nunnery which Fridolin afterwards built on the island. Her parents, too, were ever after the most substantial benefactors of the Saint.

care.

Fridolin, having now found a temporary resting-place, divided his labours between clearing the island of trees and thorns and spreading the light of the Gospel throughout the surrounding country. Meanwhile king Clovis died and those who had already endeavoured to expel Fridolin renewed their efforts and strove to re-occupy the island. In order to preserve at least an outward show of justice, they declared they wished to leave the matter to arbitration. But the judges being of the same caste as the accusers, Fridolin had little to expect.

Sad and despondent, the Saint sought refuge in prayer. Day and night he ardently implored the Divine assistance in the hour of need. Nor did he hope in vain. The eventful day was fast approaching when the judgment was to be given. On the evening before, Saint Fridolin and his disciples went to the wood, felled some trees, and planted them in the Rhine where the current was strongest. They then spent the whole night in prayer, beseeching God to enlighten the minds of their enemies and soften their cruel hearts. God interposed by a visible miracle. You should know, gentle reader, that the island was so situated that the principal current of the Rhine flowed on the right side, whilst on the left, towards Switzerland, the river was so shallow that a child could wade through it. On that memorable morning, however, the arbitrators and their partizans were astounded to find that "Father Rhine" had changed his course over night. The current had turned towards the Swiss side, whilst the right side was almost dried up. Convinced by the miracle, they

saw at once that Fridolin was a man of God, asked his forgiveness, and treated him thenceforward with the greatest rever

ence.

Having overcome all difficulties, Fridolin at long last built a church and founded a monastery, which was soon filled with zealous novices. Fridolin was the heart and soul of the community. He endeavoured by word and example to enkindle, foster and perfect the spirit of piety and virtue, that they, too, might become lights and leaders of their fellow-men in the path of Paradise. The fame of the monastery spread like wildfire through the land. It became the nursery and school of young missioners by whom the seed of Christianity was scattered over the Schwatz Wald and other parts of Baden and Wirtemburg. The town of Seckingen, the existence of which is due to the exertions and edifying life of Saint Fridolin, is not ungrateful; his memory is still revered there, and his feast is celebrated annually on the 6th March with great pomp and devotion.

FRANCIS.

A CLUSTER OF JUNE ROSES.

Ir was the month of June-the month of roses, but no rose leaves had blown across my path.

Briars and brushwood had woven themselves into a tangled mesh over the road that lay behind me, and the vista opening in front bristled with their thorny spikes and seared leaves.

Weary and footsore, one evening I sat down to rest upon a mossy stone beneath an old wall garlanded with ivy. "The month of June has come round," I sighed, "with its wealth of sunshine and dreamy evenings, but no roses have bloomed for me." In the distance, far behind, straggles the blighted past, and the bleak present lies at my feet. They

both formed dreary pictures to contemplate. Presently I heard a fresh breeze rousing the drowsy ivy leaves above me, and I saw their long tendrils swinging to and fro in the wind. From behind the green lattice I saw a golden network of bars, penetrating the ivy screen, a voice whispered that within lay the Garden of the Church-that Garden, where blossom in fadeless springtide those choice exoticsthe Saints of the Heavenly Jerusalem. Their road, like mine, had been strewn with thorny briars; but their goal had been reached, and in their clemency they now vouchsafed to aid my pilgrim steps with a glimpse of their loveliness.

The first flower that arrested my attention was a regal yellow rose. A radiant angel approached and motioned me to the spot where it grew. Primrose tinted were its outer petals, deepening towards the centre into a warmer hue, until a rich glow of mellow sunset formed the heart of the flower. A haze of fragrance floated above this favourite of heaven, and an amber dew suffused its golden shaded petals.

"This rose represents St. Anthony of Padua, whose festal day we celebrate on June 13th," said my guide. “He was the spiritual child of the Blessed Francis of Assisi, and is one of the fairest blooms in this celestial Garden. In bim were united the love of a seraph, with the zeal of a confessor and the purity of a virgin. Dying in the prime of early manhood, at the age of thirty-six, he yielded his soul to God with Holy Mary's name upon his lips."

Then the angel related to me the life of heroic sanctity led by the saint. He told me that he had been appointed the patron of learning and the kind friend of those who had lost their earthly possessions and crave to regain them. "With a willing hand he comes to the assistance of these latter," continued my companion. "Body and soul fare well at his hands. Invoke him then when tempted to despond; and with a profound inclination towards the yellow rose the angel passed on.

Seven paces further brought us to a white moss rose, its snowy petals sparkling with pearly dew, which frosted the green stem, and flashed on the feathery moss which clothed the calyx.

"On June 21st, 1591, this rose was planted in Paradise," said my guide. "It represents St. Aloysius Gonzaga, of the Society of Jesus, whose death occurred on that day three hundred years ago. His matchless innocence is typified by these fleckless petals;" and he gazed admiringly on their chaste beauty. "The taint of actual sin never sullied his pure soul, and he is invoked as the patron of innocence and youth. The Blessed Magdalen of Pazzi in one of her ecstasies was favoured with a view of this boy saint in heaven, seated high among the angel choirs. On seeing his exalted throne, she exclaimed: ‘Oh, that I could fly through the world conjuring Christians to call on the Blessed Aloysius in their straights! No tongue can tell what glory he enjoys, or what power he exercises with God.'"

The angel told me of the angelic youth's flight from the world to embrace the Jesuit Order, and of the austerities practised on his tender body. His death was caused by an overflow of Divine love coupled with a fever, "and the snowwhite rose was planted to commemorate his pure and sinless life."

"You have seen," remarked the angel, "two roses. A third remains, a ruby-red rose with a heart of garnet;" and we pursued our way towards a spot indicated by my guide.

There it reared its head, this crimson moss rose, with its petals shining with a ruby dew. It was larger than the other two roses, but the angel explained that it was a twin rose, growing on distinct stems but culminating in one flower.

"This dual rose represents the Holy Apostles, Peter and Paul," he said, "who laid down their lives for Christ on the same day in Rome (June 29th). They, like you, spent their

days outside the cloister. Their lot lay along the rugged road of the world. And though the thorns of persecution pierced their feet, and the hot sun of the world beat fiercely overhead, they bore it all for God's sake, and sealed their faith with their blood. These high strides in holiness are not demanded from you. Your path in life lies low; they scaled the rocky heights of perfection. Look to them when the burden of the day seems too hard to bear, but never again murmur that the month of June is bereft of roses.

"On June 13th you have seen the yellow rose blow. The white rose blooms on June 21st, and the ruby rose on June 29th.

"Other beauteous flowers adorn the parterres of heaven, and in their ranks every Christian hopes to blossom one day. Adieu."

There was a gentle rustling of angelic wings. The freshening breeze ceased to play amongst the ivy tendrils. Languidly they hugged the wall. The sun shone out, and I found myself sitting upon the mossy stone, alone.

My ramble through the rose gardens of Paradise was at an end.

LAURA GREY.

THE THIRD ORDER OF ST. FRANCIS.

ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI.

(Continued from page 398.)

ATTRACTED by the virtues of St. Francis, three of his townsmen came, one after another, and asked of him the privilege of imitating him in his poverty.

Later on eight more

begged and were granted the same favour.

With these eleven companions he found himself one day in the town of Rieti, and there met one Angelo Tancredi, an