But one solitary sentry, at the entrance of the copse, guarded the consecrated place; and its exceeding loneliness and quiet were a grateful contrast to the animated world of the surrounding camp.

The monk entered the shrine, and fell down on his knees before an image of the Virgin, rudely sculptured, indeed, but richly decorated.
"Ah, Holy Mother!" groaned this singular man, "support me in the trial to which I am appointed.

Thou knowest that the glory of thy blessed Son is the sole object for which I live, and move, and have my being; but at times, alas! the spirit is infected with the weakness of the flesh.

Ora pro nobis, O Mother of mercy! Verily, oftentimes my heart sinks within me when it is mine to vindicate the honour of thy holy cause against the young and the tender, the aged and the decrepit.

But what are beauty and youth, grey hairs and trembling knees, in the eye of the Creator?
Miserable worms are we all; nor is there anything acceptable in the Divine sight but the hearts of the faithful.