Friends at Court

New Zealand Tablet, 24 August 1911, Page 1611

Friends at Court

GLEANINGS FOR NEXT WEEK’S CALENDAR

August 27, Sunday,Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost. Feast of the Most Pure

Heart of Mary. ~ 28, Monday.St. Augustine, Bishop, Confessor, and Doctor. ~ 29, Tuesday.—Beheading of St. John the Baptist,

~ -30, Wednesday. —St. Fiacre, Confessor. ~ 31, Thursday.—St. Raymund Nonnatus, Confessor.

September 1, Friday.—St. Louis, King and Confessor.

~ 2, Saturday.—St. Stephen, King of Hungaiy, Confessor. -

Feast of the Most Pure Heart of Mary.

God, having selected Mary to be the Mother of His Divine Son, bestowed on her with a lavish hand the graces which were necessary to fit her for her exalted office. On various days throughout the year some one or other of the principal events in the life of the Blessed Virgin, or of the privileges which she received from God, form the subject of our consideration. To-day we contemplate that interior perfection which made her heart a glowing furnace of divine love, and gave to her most trivial actions a spiritual excellence which none of the saints have equalled.

St. Fiacre, Confessor.

St. Fiacre was an Irishman who, having crossed over into France, lived for many years in a solitude not far from Meaux. His life there was most austere —a continued exercise of prayer and heavenly contemplation, which he interrupted only to afford relief to the poor, or to attend to those who, led by the fame of his sanctity, came to seek his advice. After his death in 670, his tomb became famous for numerous miracles, and was resorted to by pilgrims from all parts of France.

GRAINS OF GOLD

IN THEE MY HOPE.

In thee my hope was anchored fast, Sweet Mother, in that distant past When youthful fervor grew apace, And love o’erleapt the bounds of space My heart upon, thine own to cast.

Since then full oft I’ve stood aghast At ruin wrought by sin’s hot blast, Yet in extremes ne’er failed to place In thee my hope.

Oh! grant, dear Mother, when at last Approaching Death opes dangers vast, When run for aye is my brief race, Confidingly I may embrace With courage all through life amassed—• In thee my hope. —Avc Maria.

The chief cause of our misery is less the violence of our passions than the feebleness of our virtues.

The grandest of heroic deeds are those which are performed within four walls and in domestic privacy. The best training for wider service is the conscientious fulfilling of the common, every-day duties we have to meet. It is a good thing to be rich, and a good thing to be strong, but it is a better thing to be beloved by many friends. The basis of true scholarship is humility. . To live in an atmosphere of divine dissatisfaction with one’s self means growth towards perfection.