tion of Mary to the Angel, that she purposed neither then nor at any future time to be released from her vow.

From the sacred text we get a very definite idea of the character of Mary. How well the poet, Dante Gabriel Rosetti, has expressed it:

"Unto God's will she brought devout respect,
Profound simplicity of intellect,

And supreme patience. From her mother's knee
Faithful and hopeful; wise in charity;

Strong in grave peace; in pity circumspect."

She was indeed full of faith, patience, and self-restraint, as is evident from the first chapter of the Gospel of St. Matthew, where the doubts of Joseph concerning her are told. She must have known his misgivings; she must have suffered from them, but she was silent. She left her cause in God's hands, and He miraculously justified her. She was strong of heart and sound of head beyond all women, for she carried the sword of Simeon's prophecy in her heart from the day when, a young mother of fifteen years, she presented her Divine Child in the Temple, until thirty-three years later, a mature woman, she stood by the cross on Calvary. Yet she was outwardly calm and peaceful; nor differed notably in her visible life from other Hebrew women. She was thoughtful, silent, absorbed in her wonderful charge-pondering, as the Scripture tells us, her Son's words and deeds in her heart. She exercised a Mother's authority over Him; for, note her words of tender chiding to the Boy of twelve years, when she finds Him on the third day in the Temple. And the Scripture condenses the eighteen years of Christ's life, from this time till He began His public career, into the statement that He returned home with Joseph and Mary, and was subject to them.

She was full of delicacy and consideration, for at the wedding feast of Cana, she asks her Son to put forth His divine power, not to relieve a hard necessity, but to save a hospitable host from being shamed before his guests. Her word had with Christ that weight which a mother's word might be expected to have with the best of sons; for though, by the language of Holy Writ, He seemed to rebuke her request, she certainly did not understand it

She bade the waiters do whatever Jesus should tell them; and though He had said, "My hour is not yet come," He anticipated it, and wrought, at His mother's instance, His first public miracle.

We get but few and vanishing glimpses of Mary in the Bible,

from this time, until the day of Christ's crucifixion, when she emerges from the shadows, and stands out in sight of all on Calvary, the Mother of the Crucified: "Now there STOOD by the Cross of Jesus His Mother," writes John. That "stood" is a very eloquent word here, and says more for Mary than volumes of dissertations on her fidelity and fortitude. She did not faint, she did not fail—she stood; though of the men, His disciples, when His enemies closed about Him, it is written. "Then, all these leaving Him, fled away."

Friend, did you ever watch at the death bed of an only child, an only son? You had all possible comfort for the dying one. The room was hushed; sympathizing friends were beside you, or within call. If a word were spoken, it was to cheer the dying, to comfort you. And yet, mother, you suffered more in the dying of your son, than you will ever suffer in your own supreme hour. Was not his every moan, his every convulsive sigh, a sword in your heart? Would you not have given your life itself to ease his pain? But what were your son's sufferings-speaking only in the natural order to those of Christ's, dying a malefactor's death, in the midst of scoffers and mockers, His thirst aggravated by the ingenious torture of the vinegar and gall, His failing sight confronted by the wrathful faces of His foes? And what were your tortures to His Mother's? Think you that every stroke of the hammer that nailed Him to the Cross was not felt with actual physical pain in His Mother's heart? Think you, she would not gladly, could it have been, have given her own body to the scourges and her own hands to the nails?

We came once on a vivid description of the crucifixion and death of a number of captives on a height overlooking the City of Carthage, in the time of the Punic wars; and we doubt if even a strong woman could read it without feeling a reflection of the pain. But what must it be to witness a crucifixion? To stand for three long hours near enough to hear the rending of muscles and flesh, as the weight of the body swayed, it now this way, now that, on the three nails that held it to the Cross. And the witness was a widowed Mother; and the Victim, her only Son.

We praise, and rightly, the courage of poor Rizpah, the mother of the sons of Saul, who watched their dead bodies as they hung on the crosses, driving away the beasts and the birds, till David heard the piteous story, and gave them sepulchre. But was it not braver to watch by the dying, encompassed by enemies fiercer than ravening wolves or vultures?

Ah, but there was another torture transcending all these; transcending all other possible human experience. Through contact with the Divine, she had caught a reflection of the Divine passion, not for a nation, but for a world. Mary knew why her Son was dying, and she knew that for many His death would be in vain.

Christ on the Cross gave His Mother to the keeping of His best-loved disciple, John, who from that hour, as he himself tells us, took her to his own. And this is the Gospels' last word of Mary. Withal, it is urged against us Catholics that there is not enough made of Mary in the Sacred Scriptures to warrant the veneration we pay her. We refer to those who receive the Bible-as do all the Christian sects, however otherwise differing as the inspired word of God. To those who repudiate the Divine inspiration of the Scriptures of the Old Testament and the New, all that we have said, from whatever source drawn, is but a pretty legend, or allegory, or at best a history resting on no more stable foundation than that which underlies the ancient histories of Greece and Rome. Yet, for these also it may not be without interest to hear just what the old historic Church believes about the most widely and tenderly revered of women, and how it honors her.

We base our devotion to the Blessed Virgin on the fact plainly set forth in the Bible that she is the Mother of God Incarnate, Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. Granting her this supreme honor, all difficulties about her minor honors or prerogatives should cease; for these are but preparatory for, or consequent on, her Divine Maternity. It troubles us not that the Bible makes no formal statement attesting Mary's Immaculate Conception, her perpetual Virginity, her life-long sinlessness, her Assumption into Heaven, her Son's exceeding love for her, and her intercessory power with Him. If a great, wise, and virtuous. king chooses a maiden for his wife and the mother of his heir, we do not need, in addition to our knowledge of that convincing fact, an official bulletin to assure us that she is fit for the place to which she has been raised; that the king loves her tenderly; that his courtiers honor her, that her intercession counts for much with him, and that he is pleased when his people praise her.

But, it may be objected, Mary is not the Mother of God, for God is from all eternity, and she is but a finite creature. She is the Mother of the Man Christ, or even of the human nature of the Son of God, but she is not the Mother of the Divinity. This objection is lucidly answered in Cardinal Gibbons' popular book, "Faith of Our Fathers:"

"Did the mother who bore us," he says, "have any part in the production of our souls? Was not this nobler part of our being the work of God alone? And yet who would for a moment dream of saying, 'the mother of my body,' and not 'my mother?'"

The comparison teaches us that the terms, parent and child, mother and son, refer to the persons and not to the parts or elements of which the persons are composed.

Hence, no one says: "The mother of my body," "the mother of my soul;" but in all propriety "my mother," the mother of me, who live and breathe, think and act, one in my personality,though uniting in it a soul directly created by God, and a material body derived from the maternal womb. In like manner, as far as the sublime mystery of the Incarnation can be reflected in the natural order, the Blessed Virgin, under the overshadowing of the Holy Ghost, by communicating to the Second Person of the adorable Trinity, as mothers do a true human nature of the same substance with her own, is thereby really and truly His Mother. It is in this sense that the title of Mother of God, denied by Nestorius, was vindicated. to her by the General Council of Ephesus in 431; and in this sense, and in no other, has the Church called her by that title."

(To be continued.)

THE ASCENSION.

MARCELLA A. FITZGERALD.

Lo! His work on earth accomplished
Jesus seeks His Father's Throne,
Leaving His most glorious Mission
To the keeping of His own.

They who love Him best upgazing,
Mark His wounded hands outspread,

While upon each yearning spirit

Are sweet benedictions shed.

Hour of awe! when 'mid such glory
Hope divine was given to earth,
That all men might turn with longing
To the true land of their birth.

A MARRIAGE OF REASON.

BY MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN, LL.D.

XXI.

'DONNA QUIXOTA."

MRS. SHERWOOD soon understood the position of affairs. Katharine did not come down to the late breakfast. Her aunt thought that she remained upstairs through fear; she smiled bitterly and nursed her wrath. What did the girl mean by playing fast and loose in this way? Wirt Percival had been permitted to engage himself to the Lady Alicia, and Lord Marchmont had been snubbed. Was there a Duke in prospect, that this penniless young creature should comport herself with so much arrogance?

But Katharine was not afraid. She was not one of those who value peace so highly that they will sacrifice self-respect and principle for it. An unpleasant interview, provided she felt blameless in conscience, had no terrors for her. Mrs. Sherwood did not know this; she looked forward in triumph towards the coming scene, and said to herself that she would force Katharine into compliance, send for Marchmont, and arrange the marriage on a reasonable basis, as they do in France. Katharine was not fool enough to give up her present advantages for a nonsensical prejudice.

Katharine read over and over again the note she had received and, in comparison with its contents, her aunt's wrath seemed at mere trifle. What did it mean? The people who read the "society" columns no doubt believed that she was engaged to Wirt Percival or to Lord Marchmont. To which of them did the writer of the note point? Katharine was impetuous enough at times, but she had been taught to be prudent where other people were involved. She knew that if she mentioned the subject either to her aunt or Mrs. Percival it would be no secret. She could not mention it to the Lady Alicia until she knew just what it meant. She wished ardently that her uncle were at home. She felt that she could trust him. She would wait awhile-haste is generally a fault. She put away carefully her ball dress and arranged everything in her room in the most orderly manner. She packed her trunk and satchel, leaving out all the frocks and ornaments her aunt had given her. She would, at least, be prepared to end a struggle