among the choir-boys, I said to myself that it was not fair that they should be wearing those beautiful clothes, and I not. Once, when I was playing with them, we went into the sacristy, and they showed me where they kept their cassocks. So I ran today as fast as my legs could carry me, opened the wardrobe, got out the duds, put them on, and joined the procession at the 'Porte Touraine,' and here I am! Don't scold me M. le Curé, I am not a thief. See, I restore to you the booty...... You are considering! Yes... I ask your pardon. It is a little mystery, and I do not know how it happened. While I was walking along with the others, I began to shed tears, and yet I was very happy. What you see here are my tears. They will not stain. Get off, tears! It will soon be dry." And the child wept again. The Abbé listened and gazed at the boy.

What passed at that moment between the man in black and the child in red? I think the man heard a voice at that moment other than that of the child, and saw the soul of the little one through his tears.

"Would you like to stay and be a choir-boy?"

"Oh! I would love it. M. le Curé!" "Well, then, stay.

a

Twenty years after, I went on campaign to Tonquin, and in a fight at Tuyen Quan I received a bullet in my leg. Lying on the ground under a tropical sun, burning with fever, I was feeling pretty small, as they say, when a military chaplain happened to come that way. He was a stout, wellbuilt young man with a countenance full of sympathy.

"You are wounded, Commandant?" said he.

"A confounded ball in my leg." I answered. "I cannot stand."

The Abbé looked at me attentively. as if trying to recall something. Suddenly his eyes lighted up, and he seemed to have found it.

"Try to hoist yourself on my shoulders, Commandant. The ambulance

is not far off, and I will take you to it"

I did not want to go, but the Abbé insisted. insisted. And besides, I did not want to fall into the hands of the Tonquinese scoundrels. So, at last, not without pain and difficulty, I found myself on the shoulders of the Chaplain, who trotted steadily, as you may imagine. From time to time a ball would whistle in our ears.

"That must be mine," said the Abbé. "You have yours. Turn about, you know," and he laughed in true soldier style. Just as we reached the ambulance, the victory was gained. We saw the Chinese, pursued by our men, running helter-skelter, throwing down their arms, while our victorious flag flaunted on the breeze its triple colors.

"Oh! how fine! how fine!" cried the Abbé. These words thus pronounced, the accent of his voice, even my position on the Chaplain's back, suddenly cleared up my memory. This young priest was the little boy who scaled me once upon a time, the day of the procession, when I was a simple sublieutenant.

"Yes, it is fine," I said to him; "It is fine as the feast of Corpus Christi!"

"It is finer," he replied, "for this time we are at the feast without any cheating."

"This is the reason that the Abbé

and I are friends for life and death," said the Commandant X., finishing his story. The Sentinel of the Blessed Sacrament.

Loss of precious time, misuse of crosses and sufferings, want of regularity in prayer, the tepidity which prevents our ridding ourselves of certain sinful habits, these things eat up our time of preparation; and if we do not see to it, we shall find ourselves at God's tribunal with empty hands, poor, and even imperilled.

Christ did not permit His followers to form themselves into voluntary and independent societies.

I

THE ART OF ALWAYS REJOICING To keep the human heart tranquil and at peace amid the hurly-burly of the world's perturbation and turmoil, to bear with patience the changes of fortune and the pains contingent upon bodily suffering, to carry a happy heart and cheerful countenance through life, seems almost an impossibility. Nevertheless, both men and women have accomplished this seeming impossible task. The reason of their success is to be found in the fact that under all circumstances they invariably conformed their wills to the Divine Will: the only source of lasting joy. In all history there is no more wonderful exemplification of the truth of this statement than the life and death of the Blessed Thomas More, who indeed was a past-master of the Art of Always Rejoicing, for he ever "kept the noiseless tenor" of the joyous-way in prosperity and adversity alike.

What manner of man was Erasmus, who knew him well, says he was "a man of singular virtue and of a clear unspotted conscience, more pure and white than the whitest snow, and of such an angelical wit, as England never had the like before." And he goes on to say, "unless my vehement love deceives me, I do not think that nature ever fashioned a mind more ready for every occasion, more prompt, far-seeing, or acute, and in a word perfectly endowed with every kind of gift. To this you must add a power of speech equal to his mind, a wondrous charm of manner, an abundant wit, never otherwise than agreeable." More's own saying: a man may live for the next world, but be merry withal, was the keynote of his life, for his "dauntless gaiety never forsook him," even at the moment of martyrdom.

The life story of this illustrious and saintly man has been told anew, written more especially for young readers, by a religious of unusual literary

ability, a member of a community, whose house stands upon the bloodstained soil of Tyburn, where many kindred spirits of Blessed Thomas More suffered for the Faith. It is a well written biography, always interesting, and withal, giving a very clever picture of this great man, who may fittingly be described as the embodiment of scholarly Christian gentlemanhood. It would seem as if he had ever before his eyes the Great Exemplar, and persistently kept in mind that patience is the soul of peace: Of all the virtues, 'tis nearest kin to heaven;

It makes men look like gods. The best of men

That e'er wove earth about him was a sufferer,

A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit; The first breathed.

true

gentleman that

ever

Simultaneously with the appearance of this "Story of Blessed Thomas More," the publishers of Everyman's Library brought out a new edition of Miss Manning's "Household of Sir Thomas More," which was originally given to the public in 1851, and since then has passed through many editions. And no wonder, as it gives, as no other book does, a most intimate and lovely picture of the family life at Chelsea; the doings of the domestic circle, the witty and wise sayings and conversations of this ever joyous man. Imaginary, no doubt, nevertheless, truthful, for Miss Manning had a wonderful facility of putting herself into the past, assimilating its thoughts and feelings, and facts, and weaving

*The Story of Blessed Thomas More. By a nun of Tyburn Convent, with a preface by Dom Bede Camm, O. S. B. 16 mo., 174 pages, illustrated with color plates. Benziger Brothers, New York. Price, 80 cents.

†The Household of Sir Thomas More. By Anne Manning. With Roper's Life of More. Everyman's Library. 12 mo., 209 pages. E. P. Dutton & Co., New York. Price in cloth, 35 cents; and in leather, 60 cents.

The story is told under the form of a diary, supposed to be that of Margaret More, the affectionate daughter of Sir Thomas, and the wife of William Roper, who wrote a life of his father-in-law, and which is prefixed to this last edition of Miss Manning's book, in order that the reader may compare the supposed story with the true one; and if he does, he will find that the author, while adhering to the facts, vitalizes the dry bones of history, and gives a vividly life-like picture of Sir Thomas under his own roof-tree.

It behooves every Catholic to become acquainted with the life of More, a brilliant writer, a man of infinite wit, one of England's greatest Chancellors, and withal an heroic Christian, who for the truth of the Catholic Faith did not hesitate to lay down his life in testimony. A noble martyr, who the late Holy Father, Leo XIII, caused to be raised to the altars of the Church and to be declared Blessed.

These charming books, if read, will materially add to the readers' store of useful knowledge, and at the same time will help them to acquire, by example, that most useful of all acquisitions, viz: The Art of Always Rejoicing, for the Blessed Thomas More was its very personification. If they become so interested in the life of this Holy Martyr, that they wish to know still more about him, they have only to turn to the "Life and Writings of Sir Thomas More," by Rev. T. E. Bridett, a learned and most appreciative work; and again, if they wish to study his life critically, they have only to read the lucid biography written by Henri Bremond and recently published by Duckworth & Company of London.

II

HE THAT HEARETH YOU, HEARETH ME

In the English Calendar there appear the names of three saints, who were pre-eminent for their unswerving loyalty to the Holy See, and their vigorous resistance to the attempted intrusion of the State into the Church:

First-St. Wilfried, Bishop of York (A.D. 709), who with untiring zeal upheld the rightful liberty of the Church against persecution from all sides, and ardently defended the authority of the Church of Rome, fully realizing the truth of the axiom. of St. Ambrose (A.D. 385): Where Peter is, there is the Church.

Second-St. Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury (A.D. 1109), who valiantly fought for the rights of the Church against the tyrannical aggressions of two kings: William Rufus and his successor, Henry I, and always pertinaciously asking the question of St. Optatus (A.D. 368): Why then, is it that you strive to usurp unto yourselves the keys of the kingdom of heaven, you who sacriligeously fight against the chair of Peter?

Third-St. Thomas of Canterbury (A.D. 1162), who strenuously, almost single-handed, withstood the effort of Henry II to enslave the Church and make it a creature of the State, and ended the struggle by giving his life for the cause, looking to Rome for redress and vindication, as he ever held with St. Boniface (A. D. 419), that this church is to the churches spread over the whole world as the head is to its own members.

Many lives have been written of this great archbishop, both by enemies and friends; to one he is the arrogant Thomas á Becket, to the other the Blessed Martyr, St. Thomas of Canterbury. Men have continued from his own time even until to-day either to hate or to love him; Henry VIII, four centuries after his glorious death, destroyed his shrine and summoned. him to appear to answer to the charge

of high-treason; and some of the later historical writers have arraigned him afresh and condemned him. All of this is easily understood, for the principles St. Thomas fought for are as vital to the life of the Church now, as they were in the 12th Century; the battle over them is still going on: arrayed on one side is the Church and on the other the forces of evil-the world, the flesh and the devil.

That gifted writer, Father Robert Hugh Benson, has just given to the world of young Catholic readers a life of Saint Thomas that is as engaging as a novel, and at the same time strictly historical, never for a moment straying away from the facts, but clothing them in a language so beautiful that the most inattentive reader will be forced to peruse the book with interested attention.* Saint Thomas of Canterbury gave his great abilities to the upholding, explaining and following the commandment of the Blessed Jesus: Render to Caesar, the things that are Caesar's; and to God, the things that are God's. And because of this he died a martyr: a true lover of the Crucified, and because he believed the words of Christ: He that heareth you, heareth me. And on account of this and his holy life and heroic death, Mother Church proclaimed him a saint.

Thomas á Becket was a man endowed with great intellectual acumen, charming in manner, handsome of person, a lover of magnificence, and withal, of a penitential spirit: a cheerful bearer of the Cross. All should read this beautiful book of Father Benson's, and it should be in every Sunday School, parish and public library throughout the country, that all may know what a glorious Saint this Chancellor. Archbishop and "blissful martyr" was in truth.

III

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

History demonstrates that nations like individuals are born, flourish for a time, and then die, and in their death their lands are sometimes translated from one people to another. Can it be that France is now on the down-hill to its national death? Can it be that the day is not far off when it will be dismembered? Many thoughtful men would answer both these questions in the affirmative, because of the moral degeneracy of France, which is growing apace under the present Godless government, whose ministers are attempting to "extinguish the very light of heaven;" and because its birth rate, from year to year, has steadily declined, until now, the deaths far exceed the births, which means depopulation and the incoming of a new people.

This whole question: the moral

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aspect of France, the decay of the religious sentiment, and the degeneracy of its people can best be studied by a non-resident in the pages of French fiction, for there he will find a true and living picture not only of the manners and customs, the point of view of all classes, but also the motives of their actions, both material and spiritual, for the novel is now the chosen vehicle in which to carry to the public the thoughts and theories of every school, the advocacy and criticism of every party.

The truth and value of the Catholic point of view has been set forth and exhibited in action, while the danger and evil of the contrary view has likewise been laid bare in the novels of René Bazin, which are wonderful and at the same time truthful studies of the various conditions of contemporary French life. Charles Scribner's Sons are now bringing out a faithful translation of these master-pieces. Two of them were noticed in THE PARISHI MONTHLY for September, viz., "The Nun" and "Redemption," both powerful novels, ones that hold the attention of the reader from the first page to the last, and make plain the evils of the governmental and economic theories now dominant in unhappy France. The Scribners have added a third volume to these translations: "The Coming Harvest."* and

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although not so interesting as either of the above named, nevertheless, a careful realistic picture of farm life. its hopes and disappointments, and also of the harmfulness coming from the neglect of religious duties and from undue development of individualism. The want of true manly manhood in the characters is markedly conspicuous in this book, as it is in Bazin's other novels; they weep on all occasions, and are woefully lacking in moral courage when face to face with error and unbelief, yet, with all, they are lovable and attractive, because they are willing cross-bearers and know how to suffer heroically.

These novels are destined to do great good among non-Catholics, as they will make clear to them, what iniquitous and outrageous wrongs are being perpetrated, in the name of liberty, against the religious life of the people of France; and they will also place in the hands of Catholics facts, of the utmost importance if they are called on to defend the action of the Church in its relations with the French Republic.

Bazin does not attempt to forecast the future of religion in France, but his readers which will materially aid he places many facts in the hands of them, if they desire to formulate a prognostication. It would seem, if the future depended solely upon the natural order, that there is little nope for the Church in France, but there is hope, for the supernatural is a force.

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