Lady Humphrey paused. Hester was silent and surprised, not knowing what to say.

"And you, too, dear Hester," Lady Humphrey continued, presently, "you also must feel an interest in these good people, who have been so kind to you-in that dear lady of the convent, and in her brother, who did you so important a service." "Yes," said Hester readily.

"Well, then, my love, I will entrust you with a secret," said Lady Humphrey, lowering her voice and with an air of deep concern. There is a way in which you and I can be of use to these worthy people. We can save them, perhaps, from trouble-from destruction."

"Can we ?" said Hester, with open amazed eyes.

You know, my dear love, that the country of Ireland, to which you are going, is disturbed by revolutionary troubles -nay, you need not turn pale, all is peace in the neighbourhood of Glenluce. But Sir Archie Munro may be implicated— may be suspected of encouraging the people elsewhere to rebellion. Do you understand me, dear Hester ?"

"I understand," said Hester, faintly.

"In case such things were proved against him, he must be seized-perhaps hanged," said Lady Humphrey. "But it may lie with you and me to avert this danger from his head." How?" asked Hester, fearfully.

"By watching over his interests," said Lady Humphrey, with enthusiasm. "I am here, you see, in London, and I have friends," she added mysteriously. "You watch well over Sir Archie's movements at Glenluce. Write me constantly and describe events without reserve. Thus kept constantly informed of all his doings, I shall be able, from my knowledge of facts, to keep all danger and suspicion from his path."

The very vagueness of this speech gave it an especially terrible meaning for Hester. She had heard of troubles in Ireland, but she had not thought about them until now. And she was to do so great a service to these friends who had been so good to her. And this was Lady Humphrey, whom she had feared, who was enabling her to do it. How stupid, and blind, and unfeeling, she had been !

'You must remember, my little Hester, that this is a secret between you and me," said Lady Humphrey, by and by, having watched some time in silence how her instructions had been received, how they had sunk in and settled down, with a great hold, in Hester's mind. You will promise never to repeat what I have just said to you. It would be terrible to give a hint of it to our dear friend the Mother Augustine. It would needlessly alarm her and give her pain. You will promise?"

"I promise," said Hester, solemnly; then laid hold of Lady Humphrey's hand and kissed it.

"God bless you, Lady Humphrey!" she said. a good woman!"

"You are

Pierce Humphrey arrived one evening to bid adieu to little Hester. He had written to her, apologizing for his conduct at the ball, and she had long ago forgotten the offence; so also, it would seem, had he himself.

"So you are going to Glenluce, little Hester ?" said Mr. Pierce. "You are going to live under the roof with my Janet. What a friendship you and she will strike up!"

"Oh, no!" said Hester, quickly. "That is not likely, for you know I am not going as a lady."

"Pooh!" said Pierce Humphrey, laughing. "You could not be anything else, if you tried. Yes, you and she will surely be friends. And I think you will say a word for me, little Hester ?"

"That I will," said Hester, smiling, "if I am allowed to have a chance."

"

"Nay, I think you will make an opportunity," said Pierce, coaxingly. You must talk to her about me, and you will write to me. You will tell me how she speaks of me, and what she thinks of Sir Archie Munro. You will promise to do this?"

"I will do it if I can," said Hester, doubtfully,

'That means that you will. And look here! If she listens to you, you must give her back this ring; it is her own, which I gave her, and which she returned to me in a letter. You must tell her that I sent it to her; and if that does not touch her heart," said foolish Pierce, with a sigh, "I know of nothing else that will."

After some doubts and difficulties, half expressed, but strongly felt, Hester was simple enough to consent to take the ring. And soon after this she returned to the Mother Augustine; and then there arose the question of how to ship her off to Ireland.

(To be continued.)

ROSA MULHOLLAND GILBERT.

RHYMES OF THE MONTHS

NEW YEAR begins with January.
Blessed be Jesus, the Son of Mary!

In the month of February

Of kind deeds be never chary.

So froward and surly is windy March,

It refuses to rhyme with its epithet, harsh.

Sunny showers of old in April ;

Now the frost you scarce escape, rill!

In the tender month of May
Homage to our Queen we pay.

Birds and hearts in genial June
Carol their lightest, merriest tune.

I was born in July

In what month shall I die?
May my parting from earth
Be a happier birth!

O Cardinal Newman's "munificent August!

A note must explain how my mem'ry thou joggest. *

Our Mother's Birthday, oh! remember,

Is the eighth day of September.

Strange that the mellow, rich October
Has but one meagre rhyme-word, sober.
Pray for the Poor Souls in November-
You will join them soon, remember!
The poor old Year's last dying ember
Is flickering out in drear December.

By putting me in mind of the hymn that Cardinal Newman wrote In an inclement May," beginning :

All is divine that the Highest has made

Through the days that He wrought till the day that He stayedand ending :

The freshness of May and the sweetness of June,
And the fire of July in its passionate noon,

Munificent August, September serene,

Are together no match for my glorious Queen.

AMEN CORNER

XII.-TWO SERVICES FOR THE HOLY SOULS

SOME faithful readers will remember that this general label, "Amen Corner," was adopted originally for the express purpose of warning off intruders who could not be expected to take an interest in the sacred topics discussed under this heading. But the subject of this twelfth of the series may seem to be altogether unsuited to these pages, even when thus screened from the casual reader. The matter ought rather to be discussed in some periodical addressed to ecclesiastics. Well, as a fact, this has already been done. Most of the remarks that follow have appeared in the American Ecclesiastical Review. Yet, reappearing now in a less dignified and less influential organ, they may meet the eye of someone who may be able directly or indirectly to secure for them some practical result. At any rate, some priests may be led to make the useful additions that are here suggested in the Ego volo celebrare Missam. I will try, then, to make others feel the surprise and regret that I have long felt at what seems to be the neglect of two very special opportunities of thinking of the souls in Purgatory, and trying to serve them.

The first of these occurs in the very Missa Defunctorum itself, the chief act of piety performed by the living for the dead. What makes the omission here still stranger is the touching earnestness with which the Church in the liturgy of this Mass strives to concentrate the attention of her minister upon the faithful departed, to the exclusion of himself and the Church militant, even those members of it who may be present. In the Requiem Mass the introductory psalm Judica is suppressed -that idyllic dialogue between the priest and the people (represented by the Mass-servers) who seek to overcome the priest's reluctance to ascend the holy mountain. In Masses for the Dead this first personal part is reduced to the Confiteor. And then, when the priest mounts the altar, he does not make the sign of the cross on himself, but over the words with which the Requiem Mass begins: "Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord." To them. To whom? No one has been mentioned yet, but the Church does not deem it necessary to name the suffering souls more distinctly, for she supposes the priest to be, like herself, absorbed in compassion for them, full of thought for them, just as Mary Magdalen at the sepulchre imagined that the sup

posed gardener could be thinking of no one but of the One she herself was thinking of, and so, though no reference had been made to Jesus, she says to him: "Sir, if thou hast taken Him away, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away." Him, him, him!-and so at the altar, "Eternal rest grant to them, O Lord." There is neither Gloria nor Credo ; no outburst of praise to the Divine Majesty, and no proclamation of our belief in the great mysteries of the Faith. These holy thoughts and feelings give place for the present to the one absorbing thought of the needs of the faithful departed. All alleluias are suppressed. Before the Gospel the priest-or in solemn Requiem Masses the deacon-refrains from asking the personal benediction that is sought here in other Masses. After reading the Gospel he does not, as at ordinary Masses, kiss its opening words, nor does he say at the end :

Per evangelica dicta

Deleantur nostra delicta.

May these Gospel words have grace
Our offences to efface.

He seems to renounce every personal share in the great act he is performing, transferring it all to the souls of the faithful departed. This feeling runs through all the rites of the black Mass. At the Agnus Dei the third petition, which is wont to be Dona nobis pacem, becomes Dona eis requiem sempiternam, "Grant to them rest everlasting." Nay, a little later, the usual benediction is withheld from the people at the end, and the priest turns abruptly to the altar with a final Requiescant in рас:

Though I have dwelt on this point at some length, I have not exhausted all the devices of which the Church makes use in the Mass and Office of the Dead to fix our thoughts on those who sleep in Christ, and are " saved yet so as by fire." All this makes it the more wonderful that in this exquisitely specialized Mass the Preface alone should be left indefinite and inappropriate, without any allusion to death or the things that follow death. Two circumstances emphasize this omission. First, the Preface is the very portion of the altar liturgy that lends itself most readily to adaptation, and is in fact adapted to the different feasts and varying seasons of the ecclesiastical year ; and, secondly, there exists a very beautiful Praefatio pro Defunctis, which the Church has approved for use in certain places ubi concessa est. Would that this privilege were spread more widely, and indeed made universal! This Preface is used in most of the diocese of France, and it has been conceded to