The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 14 November 1918, Page 45

The Family Circle

STRIVE, WAIT, AND PRAY. Strive; yet I do not promise The prize you dream of to-day Will not fade when you think to grasp it, And melt in your hand away; But "another and holier treasure You would now perchance disdain, Will come when your toil is over, And pay you for all your pain. Wait yet I do not tell you The hour you long for now Will not come with its radiance vanished, And a shadow upon its brow ; Yet far through the misty future, With a crown of starry light, An hour of joy you know not Is winging her silent flight. Pray; though the gift you ask for Ma)' never comfort your fears, May never repay your pleading. Yet pray, and with hopeful tears, An answer, not that you long for, But diviner, will come one day ; Your eyes are too dim to see it, Yet strive, and wait, and pray. —Adelaide A. Procter

AN INEXPLICABLE PREJUDICE. One of the strangest prejudices, which struck as unreasonable even a Protestant girl some years ago, is the objection of Anglicans to the Figure of Christ on the cross. They accept the bare cross, but reject the Crucifix ! The girl had been given a little crucifix, so dear and familiar to every Catholic child, but on showing the gift to her class mistress was told coldly, "That is a Catholic cross: you should not have it"; and then had to listen to a hard homily far above her head at the time on the innate idolatrous tendencies of Catholics, and the consequent necessity incumbent on the reformers of the sixteenth century to dissociate Christ from the cross crimsoned with Hie Blood ! For the first time in her life the girl made the painful discovery that the Crucifix was under a ban : that there were two kinds of crosses in the Christian worldthe Christ-less cross of the Anglican Church and the Catholic cross with our Blessed Redeemer hanging on it in His final act of love. The girl felt chilled. She preferred the Crucifix. To her the cross without Christseemed to have lost its sacred significance. In her eyes it had now descended to the level of a pious trinket. Years after, when the Crucifix was hers by right, the reprimand she had received over it was amusingly recalled to her mind when reading the reminiscences of a fellow-convert still alive. He had spent his early boyhood in an English countryside exclusively Anglican. The local 6quire had a holy horror of Rome. He could smell Popery where none would have suspected it. The doings of the High Church Party were anathema to his soul, for he regarded their vagaries as paving stones on the broad road leading to detestable Rome. Between the squire and the rector there was a perpetual feud, for the latter heard confessions, recognised Saints' Days, and believed in the necessity of apostolic succession. Rumor of Christmas decoration of the church reached the squire's ear, and roused him to suspicious alertness, for word had crept round that somewhere in the holy edifice there was to be—a cross ! He had no objection to holly and ivy, mistletoe and evergreens twined round pillars and festooned over arches, but the birds of the air carried the unwelcome tidings that certain ladies devoted to the rector had . monopolised the pulpit as their sphere of operations, and proposed to ornament the front panel with a rustic cross of variegated ivy and holly. The SfM -tni»* m i m «p -+:-*-»»■- f , nmtj. *^-^;^t.>^«»'l*»*H

birds of the air, ever busy, flew back to the gentle ladies intimating to them that something tremendous would follow the appearance of their cross. - The affrighted spinsters flew to the rector and confessed their mild conspiracy. "There was to have been a cross ! Had they bettor reverently burn it to preserve the Christmas spirit of peace?" The rector, feeling his dignity was at stake, said firmly, "No; it was'to have been there. Let it go there!" On Christmas morning the squire walked in just as the choir was singing "Peace on earth and mercy mild." The church was crowded, the congregation all a-quiver with suppressed excitement. The squire markedly ignored the offending pulpit. Not until his Christmas prayers for peace and goodwill had been devoutly said into the crown of his Sunday hat did he suffer his eyes to gaze around him with dramatic indifference until they fell on the pulpit. Rumor had been correct. On its front panel was a rudely artistic cross of ivy and holly! He sat erect; he leaned forward ; he stared incredulously, and he glared fearsomely. He deliberately adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles to make quite sure. Then rising majestically to his full height he stalked indignantly out of the church. He never "worshipped" there again. For the rest of his life he went to another church, where there were flowers and candles on the altar, where the vicar wore a stole which varied with the season, and made a cross in the air while reading the Absolution. The squire's theology was subtle. He notified this was not his parish church, so these goings on did not lie on his conscience ! How consoling it is to turn from these narrow prejudices to the England of to-day. The war is bringing the Crucifix back to English homes, making it once more the sacred centre of the national life. A few short months ago a Wayside Calvary in memory of the fallen heroes of the war was erected at Woodchester—• the first Wayside Calvary erected in England since the sixteenth century. It was subscribed for by Catholics and Protestants alike, unveiled and blessed by a Catholic bishop. Standing above the road in a picturesque •situation, the Crucified Figure of the God-Man dominates the surrounding country. "And I, when I shall be lifted up, shall draw all things to Myself." "We adore Thee, 0 Christ, and w* bless Thee, Because by Thy Holy Cross Thou hast redeemed the world." —Loreto House.

DEDICATION OF THE MONTHS. Each of the twelve months of the year has been dedicated to Catholic devotion in the following order« January, the month of the Holy Childhood. February, the month of the Passion. March, the month of devotion to St. Joseph. April, the month of the Resurrection. May, the month of Mary. June, the month of the Sacred Heart. July, the month of the Precious Blood. August, the month of the Heart of Mary. September, the month of the Pilgrim Orders. October, the month of the Angels and of the Rosary. November, the month of devotion for the souls in Purgatory. December, the month of the Nativity of Our Lord.

DON'T FORGET. The absent-minded beggar, booked for a twoweeks' visit to his rich aunt, stood upon the doorstep receiving his wife'6 final instructions. "Now, James," she said, "do, please, remember to put on your tie should you be called on to wear evening dress. Last time you went, you remember, you went down without it." "I'll make a note of it," said the forgetful one. "Also," continued the wife, "remember that Aunt Barbara's brother Bill is a sore point with all of them. Don't., mention him." "I'll put that, down, too," murmured the husband. "Then, too, dear, do be care-

ful about getting in draughts. You caught an awful cold the last time." “I’ll try* to remember," he returned. She imprinted a farewell kiss upon his brow. “I hope, dear,” she said, a catch in her voice, “you’ll think of me every day while you’re gone." “Yes, dear, I will," responded the hubby absently. “I’ll make a memorandum of it."

WHERE THE PROFIT CAME FROM. While waiting for a train home from the city one night Jones grew restless, and looked about for something. His eye fell upon a slot machine and he promptly inserted a penny. "I have often wondered," ho remarked aloud, in the manner of all truly thoughtful men, "where the profit on these machines — : — " Here he grasped the handle with a firm and masterful grip. "Where the profit on these affairs——" So saying he shook the machine. "I have often wondered," he continued, giving it another vigorous shake, "where the profit Hang the thing !" Then one of the porters came up and told him that the machine was out of order, and Jones realised at last where part of the profit came from.

THE TOOTHSOME TEST. Enticed by a window display of freshly-dusted tomatoes and lettuce leaves, the "unwary stranger dropped into the Betternot Buffet and called for the bill of fare. An aged waiter approached, and flicked yesterday's crumbs from the table with a day-before-yesterday's napkin. "What have you got good to-day, eh.-" asked the stranger. "lloysters," answered the waiter, nodding with kindly assurance. "And you needn't be afeared of 'era, sir, for they're very good indeed. Why," he added confidentially, "we're eatin' 'em ourselves!"

SMILE RAISERS. The bishop was addressing the Sunday school. In his most expressive tones lie was saying, "And now, children, let me tell you a very sad fact. In Africa there are 10,000,000 square miles of territory without. a single Sunday school where, little boys and girls can spend their Sundays. Now, what should we all try and save up our money and do?'' And the class, us one voice, replied in ecstatic union, "Go to Africa!"

A “Tommy," lying in hospital, had beside him a watch of curious and foreign design. The attending doctor was interested. “Where did your watch come from?” he asked. “A German gave it to me,” he answered. A little piqued, the doctor inquired how the foe had come to convey this token of esteem and affection. “ ’E ’ad to," was the laconic reply.

A certain bishop on a trip across the ocean was asked by a lady to sign his name in her autograph album. He did so, but she was not quite satisfied. “Oh,” she said gushingly, “won’t you sign all your titles?” lie took the album again, and after his name he wrote, “Miserable Sinner."

“I wish to report the clerk in your, office,” said the irate spinster of mature years to the manager of the seaside hotel. “She’s most impertinent.” “Flow so, madam?" “I inquired whether my rooms had been reserved, and she called out to the porter, ‘This lady’s sweet sixteen.’ " And it took the manager a quarter of an hour to convince her that “suite" sixteen was meant.

Mrs Tompkins: “Lor’, Mrs. Smithers, now there ain’t no queues the shoppin’s a bit flat, ain’t it?" Mrs. Smithers: “You’re right,- Mrs. Tompkins; just what I says to my ole man—you walks straight inter the shop and comes out again with yer quarter of marge, and there’s nothin’ to do but to go ’ome!”