Friends at Court

New Zealand Tablet, 28 September 1911, Page 1892

Friends at Court

GLEANINGS FOR NEXT WEEK’S CALENDAR October 1, Sunday. — Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost. Feast of the Most Holy Rosary. , ~ 2, Monday. —Holy Guardian Angels. ~ 3, Tuesday. —St. Adrian 111., Pope and Confessor. ~ 4, Wednesday. — St. Francis of Assisi, Confessor. ~ 5, Thursday. — St. Galla, Widow. ~ 6, Friday.—St. Bruno, Confessor. ~ 7, Saturday. — St. Mark, Pope and Confessor. Feast of the Most Holy Rosary. On the first Sunday of October, 1571, was fought the great battle of Lepanto, which saved Europe from the Turks, and gave the death-blow to the Ottoman Power. In memory of this victory, gained at the very, moment when the faithful were reciting the Rosary for the success of the Christian arms, Gregory XIII. ordered the present feast to be celebrated. St. Adrian 111., Pope and Confessor. The pontificate of St. Adrian began in 889, and lasted little more than a year. The incursions of the Saracens, who sacked the famous abbey of Monte Cassino, and extended their ravages to the very walls of Rome, reduced a great number of people to misery, and gave to the Holy Pontiff an opportunity of exercising that unbounded charity which is the distinctive characteristic of the true follower of Christ. St. Francis of Assisi, Confessor. The great founder of the Franciscan ' Order was born at Assisi, in the Papal States, towards the close of the twelfth century. While yet in his father’s house, he showed a more than ordinary compassion for the poor, often depriving himself of food and clothing in order to come to their assistance. To charity he joined the most profound humility of heart. Base and contemptible in his own eyes, he desired to be reputed such by all, and sincerely shunned honor and praise, saying: ‘ What a man is in the eyes "of God, that he is, and no more.’ St. Francis died at Assisi in 1226, in his forty-fifth ear. GRAINS OF GOLD AYE MARIA, PRAY FOR ME. Ave Maria, softly and slowly Fades the sweet sunset from hillside and lea; Star of our hope, through the night watches lowly Spread thy white pinions of peace over me. Ave Regina, the twilight is falling; Low lie the shadows on moorlands and dales ; Hear, gentle Mother, thy suppliant calling, Guard us from evil, while darkness prevails. Ave Sanctissima, the last ray of even, Twilight has blotted from mountain and sea; Star of the wanderer, shine out from Heaven; Be thou the beacon of safety to me. Ave Purissima, softly and slowly, Falleth the dew, and the darkness of night, From temptation and danger and all things unholy. Shield us, and guide us again to the light. —Boston Pilot. To turn to the world of thought after battling with the follies and obstinacies of men is like passing from the blustering winds of winter to the quiet air of spring, like leaving foreign countries for one’s native land, like quitting the company of strangers for the society of those we love, like the blessedness of happy homes to those who, at the fall of evening, lay down the burdens of the day, and seek the welcome of sweet voices and smiling faces. v And when years have passed, and we are worn and weary, and the end is near, what refuge have we but high faith and thought, and the presence of those who love us for ourselves?