Friends at Court

New Zealand Tablet, 23 November 1911, Page 2339

Friends at Court

GLEANINGS FOR NEXT WEEK'S CALENDAR November 26, Sunday.—Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost. St. Sylvester, Abbot. ~ 27, Monday.—St. "Virgil, Bishop and Confessor. ~ 28, Tuesday.—St. Gregory 111., Pope and Confessor. ~ 29, Wednesday.—St. Gelasius, Pope and Confessor. ~ 30, Thursday.—St. Andrew, Apostle. December 1, Friday. —St. Didacus, Confessor. ~ 2, Saturday.—St. Bibiana, Virgin and Martyr. St. Sylvester, Abbot. St. Sylvester was born near Loreto, in Italy, in 1177. At the age of forty he retired into a desert, in order that, free from worldly cares, he might be able to devote more time to prayer and contemplation. Having been followed by a number of disciples, he founded several monasteries, to which he gave the strict rule of St. Benedict. St. Sylvester died in 1267. St. Andrew, Apostle. St. Andrew was brother to St. Peter, and the first of the Apostles to follow Christ. After the Ascension he preached the Gospel in Scythia, and afterwards in Greece, where he was crucified for the Faith. He is honored as the patron of Scotland. St. Bibiana, Virgin and Martyr. St. Bibiana was the daughter of a Roman noble named Flavian, who himself gave his life for the Faith. The confiscation of her property, with its consequent privations, having failed to shake her constancy in the profession of Christianity, she was subjected to cruel tortures, and finally scourged to death, A.D. 363. GRAINS OF GOLD TO THE SACRED HEART. Oh Heart! where human sorrows find An echo and a balm combined, Be near me in this weary way, That men call life. Oh, be my stay ! Teach me to bear misfortune's stings, The agony of little things, The thorns in duty's pathway spread, That wear the heart like tears unshed ; Oh! Lift me up till I can see Naught but Thine own Divinity. Help me, O God; when I must bear Heartaches that Thou alone canst share. Unworthy of Thy faintest sigh, To Thee I cry ! To Thee I cry! Give me Thy love ! Give me Thy love! . Oh ! Let my life be spent above Earth's sordid cares ! Oh ! let me be Thine, Sacred Heart, eternally. Finishing what one has begun is one of the severest tests of character. Beginnings are not difficult. We do not guage a man's ability by what he starts; the veriest weakling may commence as many enterprises as a skilled promoter. The real test is in having the grit to hold on until the task is ended. Happiness doesn't come to us as a result of having our own way. Only a will to do right can lead us to happiness and satisfaction. The only way must be the wisest way. The labors of love bring contentment, and if our way is the wise way, our will to do is the right sort and our only wishes are those of love, we shall not be at war with anything.