up at him, and said simply, almost beseechingly: "What can I do?"

"If mademoiselle would send a word, a token," Henri began, eagerly.

At first Geneviève shook her head, doubtfully. Then her sad face brightened.

a group, they will produce many stalks, frequently as high as 120 blooms in a group.

The beauty of such a field, as shown in our illustration, can only be appreciated by an actual spectator during the blossoming period, in the months of April and May, although the time of maturity is not until sometime dur

She took a ring from her finger, and with a trembling hand extended it to Henri.

"He will remember it," she said.

"Even by the sense of touch?" questioned Henri, as he took it.

"If you remind him of the words he said when, as a boy, he gave it to my mother on her fête-day-'I wish it were a star, to shine for you in the darkness.' Say to him that there are stars which shine still in the darkness.'

"Yes, mademoiselle, I will say that to him."

"Tell him my mother had it with her when she died. I thought it lost then, but it came back to me. So lost things come back again."

"I will tell him that, too." "We will pray.

He who gave back the priceless gift of sight, by the touch of the Holy Thorn, to the little pupil of Port Royal, Marguérite Perier,* may yet work another wonder for one who loves Him, and whom He loves."

"I shall do the bidding of mademoiselle," said Henri, with a wonderfully brightened face. "The words and the gift will comfort him."

"Not my gift-only his own given back."

"As mademoiselle pleases. And now, if mademoiselle has no further commands for me, I pray of her to dismiss me, lest my master should require my services."

(To be continued.)

LILY-CULTURE IN BERMUDA.

THE culture of the Bermuda or "Easter Lily," grown on the Island of Bermuda, has of late years become quite extensive. The beautiful illustration, from a photograph taken on the grounds, kindly furnished by G. S. Palmer, 166 Reade Street, New York city, a large importer of Bermuda produce, gives a very correct idea of a field under cultivation. The ready market for the bulbs for early forcing in hot-houses, to supply the largely increased demand for Easter decorations, has induced a few enterprising persons to engage in this business, and with very profitable results. The work has to be conducted upon a scientific and pecuniary, rather than an aesthetic, basis, and only those who are well informed have been able to make it a genuine and paying success.

The bulbs are planted about eighteen inches apart, or less, leaving just space enough for a man to walk between and give them the proper tillage, which must be done carefully and often, as they have to be kept well fertilized and entirely free from weeds and other vegetable growth. A large, healthy bulb may be divided into four parts, each producing blooms; but if planted singly, or sometimes in

An allusion to the so-called miraculous cure of Marguérite Perier, niece of Pascal, who was suffering from a virulent disease of the eye. The child, a boarder at Port Royal, was directed by one of the nuns to touch her eye with the relic, and the cure was said to be instantaneous. Whatever explanation we may find for the circumstances, which were certainly remarkable, must be remembered that the characters of the nuns of Port Royal place them above all suspicion of fraud.

bulbs, which yield many for the amount of seed planted. Some of the early buds have been shipped North during the cool weather, but are too far distant to market in any quantity.

If this harvest of blooms could be placed in our Northern cities in quick time, they would of themselves yield an enormous profit, in addition to the profitable results given in the culture of the bulbs, which net a large amount per acre, when one considers the price in our Northern markets to be from $10 to $15 per hundred, according to size and quality.

Floral culture has reached enormous proportions of late years, and the importations of foreign-grown bulbs, seeds, etc., is increasing very largely; and for this reason our American industries should encourage home culture as much as possible, as no influence has a more civilizing or refining effect than the culture of flowers; and the grower is doubly rewarded by the pleasure of seeing their beauties gradually unfolded, and at the same time affording a bright coloring to the setting of the picture of our American home.

YOUTH AND SPRING.

BY EDWARD HERON ALLEN. COME! fill we full our arms of flowers,

And cherish them (they cannot last!).
Their little lives are spanned by hours,
It goes so fast, this Spring of ours-
It goes so fast!

Let us give thanks to th' unseen Powers
For joys to come, for pleasures past,
For Youth's delights, for love-sweet hours,
It goes so fast, this Youth of ours-
It goes so fast!

Let us kneel low to God who showers
Upon us all His gifts, nor cast
One longing glance on vanished hours,
It goes so fast, this Life of ours-
It goes so fast!

STORIES OF ST. PATRICK.

BY J. BOWLES DALY, LL.D.

THE account of early Christianity in Ireland is mingled with legends, many of which largely enter into the civil history of the country; they found their way into the Church, for there they met with ready credence. Though legends are not history, they form no unimportant portion of it, often painting for us the characters and sentiments of the age better than history itself, and giving indefinite notions of a period barren of authentic documents. The legends current of St. Patrick furnish a good sample of this class. It is not difficult to guess some of the facts underlying the poetic fancies which tradition has woven round his name. A gauze veil flung over a beantiful statue cannot conceal the form, though it may obscure the features; in the same way, mythical surroundings reveal many of the customs and manners of a given period which otherwise would be lost.

The story goes that St. Patrick, as a youth, was brought a captive to Ireland by King Neal, about the end of the fourth century. On his arrival he was sold as a slave to Milcho, a northern chief, who brought him to his

home in Antrim, then known as Dalaridia, inhabited by the Irish Picts. According to some reports, he was employed as a swine-herd on the mountains of Slemish. The leisure of the young captive was devoted to prayers and meditation. Different versions are given of the manner in which the youth obtained his freedom and education. He appears to have aspired to be the apostle of the pagan Irish, and was early endowed with miraculous powers, the first example of which was as follows: When leaving the coast of Gaul, a leper pursued him, and, like the story in the Gospel, sought to continue in his company. The crew of the ship in which the saint took passage refused to admit this objectionable character on board; Patrick obviated the difficulty and satisfied the petitioner by throwing his stone altar overboard. The leper, seated on this unique raft, followed the ship, and landed in Ireland, where his history broke off as suddenly as it commenced.

Patrick visited the scenes of his early devotions, with the laudable view of converting his old master. Milcho,

grandeur, but great was the astonishment of the King and his Court when they saw a rival fire flashing from the heights of Fearfithin.

Patrick, scorning the pagan edict, that night offered the Paschal sacrifice, the first celebration of Easter in Ireland. The King in wrath summoned a council of great men, to ascertain who dared to defy the edict. The Druid Tamrach informed him that the flame of fire he saw on the distant hill would never go out unless the author of it were destroyed; besides, that flame would put out the fires of all other religions, for the powers that ruled it were supernatural, and threatened all with ruin.

In great haste King Leoghaire, with his gorgeous retinue of mail-clad, red-plumed warriors, ordered his carriages and drove to the spot, to punish the bold intruder who had dared to violato the royal edict. As they drew near Slane, the Druid priests, with fear in their hearts, advised the King not to expose his royal presence by entering the circle of the saint's fire, but to remain out

ence. Leoghaire, who never feared mortal foe, lowered before this new enemy to his faith and dynasty; he stood with his host, their shields before them touching their lips, so as to protect their bodies. A herald, sounding a brass trumpet, summoned the daring intruder before the royal presence.

When Patrick landed in Ireland, King Leoghaire ruled the country. This man was a tyrant, with an ungovernable temper, the slave of Druids and magicians, and a bitter opponent of Christianity. At Easter the princes and chiefs of the island met at Tara, to hold their grand assembly. Tara was the Court and palace of the Irish Kings from the first arrival of the Firbolgs. At this national festival, it was the custom, proclaimed by royal edict, that no fire should be lit on that night over all the plains, on pain of death, till the beacon-light shone forth from the palace of Tara. On this night, as usual for generations past, the Bealtinne fire arose in majestic

The saint and his followers, clothed in white, marched in procession out of the overhanging wood, chanting one of the Psalms with great solemnity. The splendid cross of St. Patrick was borne in front. The Court of King Leoghaire was awe-stricken with the simple, striking vestments of the new Church of God. Then commenced a vigorous encounter, more like a trial of strength than a discussion of doctrines. The Druid Lochru blasphemed the new faith; for this the profane unbeliever was caught up in the air and dashed head foremost to the ground. The death of this man was accompanied by a horror of darkness and an earthquake, which completely routed the assembled warriors; the King and Queen alone remained before the saint. Leoghaire now feigned conversion, and

invited Patrick to visit him at Tara, where more miracles were performed. Here is a sample: Luchatmail, one of the Druid priests, poured poison into Patrick's cup. The saint, before lifting the vessel to his lips, blessed it, whereupon the fluid it contained congealed. He inverted the cup in the presence of the Court; the poison-drops fell out; the wine again became fluid and harmless. Some other equally astounding facts followed, which we need not stop to transcribe. We cannot, however, read the lives of those early Irish saints without being struck with the remarkable manner in which the pagan institutions continued to exist, under Christian names and forms. During the period while the Gospel of peace was thus planting itself in Ireland, historical annals show that the soil was red with the blood which flowed from the perpetual feuds of its princes. The warlike King from that time forth | gave up opposing the saint, but continued a pagan to the last.

Leoghaire was involved in a war with the men of Leinster, they having refused to pay the Bivomean pledge, an annual tribute of cattle (a perpetual source of bloodshed in the kingdom) which had been imposed on them by a former King. In one engagement the Connaught troops were defeated, and King Leoghaire fell into the hands of the victors. He was liberated on his taking the ancient and solemn oath of his forefathers, called "the oath of the sun, wind and elements." The pledge he gave was that, during the remainder of his life, he would never claim payment of the tribute. Within a few months the monarch violated his agreement and commenced an attack upon his old enemies. A few weeks afterward his body, charred with lightning, was found on the mountains. His subjects believed that the elements had conspired in his destruction, to revenge the slight he had put upon them by the breach of his oath. As his death was long foreshadowed by the wise men, the grim old pagan left instructions that his body should be clothed in armor, and interred on the outward rampart of Tara, with his face toward the camp of the Leinster men. He was their enemy in life, and he wished to continue so in death. The ruins of the royal rath of King Leoghaire still stand, the mute memorial of an old warlike period which has faded in the mists of history.

Patrick's success at Tara was a brilliant beginning, and seemed to have laid the country at his feet. He made a triumphant progress into Connaught, performing a profusion of tremendous miracles, many of them of a destructive character, such as depriving rivers of their fish and turning fertile districts into bogs, acts of vengeance perpetrated to punish the obstinate unbelief of the natives. Near Cruachan, the ancient palace of the Kings of Connaught, was a large Druidical establishment, where King Leoghaire sent his two daughters, Ethne the fair and Fedhlem the red, to be instructed by Luchatmail, the arch-Druid. The young princesses were surprised to find at the well, when they came to perform their ablutions in the gray of morning, before the first streaks of pink lighted up the mountain-tops, a strange company of men, clothed in white. The fearless and beautiful simplicity of the royal maidens is exhibited in the legend. Without any absurd modesty or modern shyness, they boldly accosted the saint and actually overwhelmed him with a shower of questions: "Whence are you?" "Whence come you ?" and so forth. Patrick answered, "It were better for you to confess the true God than inquire concerning our race.” They availed themselves liberally of this invitation, which must have disconcerted the saint. They asked: "Who is God ?" "Where does He dwell-in heaven or on earth; in the

seas or streams; in the hills or valleys?" "Has He sons or daughters?" "Are they fair as the sons of men ?" "Has He gold or silver?" "Tell us where He is to be found." "Is He beautiful?" "Is He young or in old age ?" and so on. The faith of those agreeable girls was on a level with their curiosity. Never in the annals of the world was there exhibited a more instantaneous conversion. The saint was robbed of all its merit, for every. thing he told them was accepted without a moment's hesitation. To every subsequent inquiry the answer came pat, "We believe, we believe." Having accepted the Christian faith per saltum, they next asked to see the face of Christ. Patrick assured them that this request could not be granted till they had tasted death and accepted the sacrifice, or Sacrament. Even this did not daunt them. Their answer, however, indicated a form of belief which some commentators attribute to the woman of Samaria in her devotion to the person of Jesus Christ— a tincture of earthly love. "Give us the Sacrament," they entreated, "that we may behold the Son, our espoused." The Eucharist of God was administered, and then they fell asleep in death. They were buried near the well of Clebash, and the Church of the Virgins marks the spot.. The antiquity of this legend is unquestionable, and various interpretations of it are given. We have none to offer, but prefer to leave it to the reader's own imagination. It was evidently written while paganism was not yet extinct in the country, and represents Patrick as following the custom of the pagans in recommending a voluntary death in order that the converts may be immediately ushered into the divine presence. There are abundant instances of similar legends, having for their object no more than a setting forth of the superior glories of a future life, the blessedness of being delivered from the burden of the flesh and the miseries of this sinful world. This object was, no doubt, clumsily effected by incredible tales, but received by the credulity of the age for whose edification they were uttered. Many Christian stories are tinged with paganism, but do not posi tively inculcate the notion of human sacrifice. A speedy death after having received the Holy Viaticum, lest any new sin be committed to neutralize the purifying effects of the Blessed Sacrament, or hinder the admission of the believer into the immediate presence of Christ, seemed to be the prevailing motive.

Patrick went on his journey, baptizing many, and founding churches for his converts. Passing through Mayo, the saint visited Croaghan Aigle, now called Croagh Patrick, one of the highest mountains in the west, and one that commands the most magnificent prospect. On the extreme peak of this mountain he had a mysterious spiritual conflict, resembling that of Moses on Mount Sinai. Here he was subjected to temptations; demons in the shape of immense flocks of black birds tormented him; they came in such numbers that he could see neither the heaven nor the earth. The saint flung his bell at them, much as Luther flung his ink-bottle at the devil when making faces at him across the table.

To the top of this rock Patrick collected all the serpents, toads and numerous reptiles from every part of Ireland, and hurled them into the sea with the end of his miraculous staff. The fable goes that this staff was presented to the saint by Christ himself, who appeared to him, during his devotions in one of the islands of the Mediterranean. We are told from that moment Ireland was delivered from every kind of noxious reptile, but it must not be forgotten that the island was free from this scourge long before the age in which the saint flourished.

The testimony of Solinus, a Roman biographer of the third century, as well as Bede, in the eighth century, testifies to the fact that Ireland was never the abode of poisonous reptiles. The legend adds that when Patrick resisted the demons, white birds came about the mount and sang sweet melodies to him. On this occasion, Patrick's demands of Heaven were numerous and not willingly conceded, but his perseverance overcame all opposition, because he had the courage which does violence to Heaven. In point of fact, Patrick threatened to remain on the mountain till either he died or had his prayers granted. Here is a sample of his requests. First, he asked that every Friday he should get seven souls out of hell, every Thursday twelve; that the barbarian should never hold Ireland by force while he was in heaven; that no one repeating his hymn and doing penance should go to hell. All these requests were granted, and the angel told Patrick to leave the mountain, but the sturdy saint had not come to the end of his demands. He asked that, four years before the day of judgment, the sea should cover the island; and then his demands increased with his success. His last request was that at the general judgment he alone should be allowed to pass sentence on Ireland; this was a method of coercion instituted against the Divine Powers which would cast Lord Salisbury's repressive measures entirely in the shade. The angel flatly refused this extravagant demand, whereupon Patrick as stoutly declined to vacate the rock, and gave his solemn assurance that he would remain there for life, adding, by way of further threat, that he would put in a care-taker or emergency-man after him. This brought even the angel on his knees. It was clear there was no resisting this sturdy beggar. The request was granted, for it was supposed the twelve apostles seconded the petition. Patrick was then ordered to ring his bell when he was about to descend, "and the sound thereof was heard all over Ireland." The mountain bears undoubted marks that it was once used as a Druidical establishment. Patrick's demons, toads and vipers were evidently the pagan rites and symbols which he had that day dethroned.

St. Patrick's death took place on the 17th of March, on which day his festival is kept; he was then in his eightyseventh year, though some of the legends make him live to the advanced age of one hundred and thirty-seven. The news of his death attracted numbers to his obsequies, the ceremonies attendant upon which lasted several days. It had been made known to the saint before his death that Heaven willed him to be buried in Down, where his preaching first met with success. The people of Armagh, however, were jealous that this distinction should be given to another county. On the day of the funeral they assembled in great numbers, attacked the convoy, and carried off the body of the saint. The funeral cart was drawn by oxen, and thus diverted from Down to ward the episcopal see. They proceeded till they reached the bounds of Armagh, and were passing a little river, when, to their surprise, cart, oxen and corpse suddenly disappeared, and they found that they were following a shadow, miraculously raised up to draw them away, while the real body of the saint had proceeded without interruption to Down, where it was safely deposited in the earth, and a fine church afterward built over his remains.

But the reader may ask, What about the shamrock, and how did the saint use it? The legend can be traced only as far back as the year 1600; beyond that none of the mediaval documents mention it. The legend has actually no foundation in history. The use of the shamrock is entirely pagan; the plant was honored by the Druids, Irishmen wore the shamrock when pagans, but

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when and how it became the national emblem is a mystery.

The narrative of the saint and his times will not be complete without a passing allusion to the palace of Tara, which Moore has immortalized in his song, "The Harp that once through Tara's Halls."

Tara as a royal residence ceased to exist long before Strongbow landed in Ireland. The bards tell us that the halls and buildings were erected by Ollamh Fodhla in the year of the world 3922, and they are particular in their details, giving minute descriptions of the feasts and entertainments, even to the serving of the viands on the royal tables. The existence of Tara is a historic fact. One hundred and thirty-six kings reigned there before Patrick's arrival. In 1810, two golden torques, of exquisite workmanship, weighing over forty ounces, were discovered at Tara; these evidences of ancient art afford good ground for believing that a large degree of civilization existed among the princes who assembled there. Its destruction in the sixth century was due to the action of an indignant priest. The story goes that a criminal who had fled for protection to the monastery of St. Ruan was dragged forcibly from his asylum and carrid to Tara, where he was put to death. The abbot and his monks exclaimed loudly against the violation of the sanctuary, marched in procession to the palace, and there pronounced the curse of Heaven on its walls.

The Irish annals tell us that "from that day no king ever sat again in Tara," and the bards, less slavishly devoted to the Church than the annalists, lamented the fate of the glory of Ireland.

A MALAY "KALIFA."

A LARGE number of Malays, descendants of those brought from the islands of the Dutch East Indies in former times, when the Dutch ruled at the Cape of Good Hope, form part of the population of Cape Town. They are chiefly employed as boatmen in the harbor. A few months since, not for the first time, these people of an Asiatic race, in the chief city of the British South African Colony, exhibited a public performance of their extraordinary revels and orgies — sword - dances, knifedances, and tricks with a variety of dangerous weapons, called the "Kalifa," and originally connected with a religious festival. It took place in the Exhibition Building at Cape Town. The proceedings opened with exhibitions of agility with knives. The Malays, about twelve in number, ranged themselves in two rows up the stage, facing each other. In each hand was a dagger, and, at a given signal, the tam-tams beat, the choir sang a monotonous lay, and the acrobats commenced a circular dance, at given intervals, and quite in unison, carrying the knives close to their bodies, and wielding them with rapid motion, without actually stabbing themselves. The next item was a similar exhibition, but with curved swords, and to six-eight time. The gambols were all thoroughly in unison, and the men seemed to be attempting to hack off their hands. One or two were actually wounded, and they dropped out. The number gradually diminished, and only seven were left when two swords each were served out. Then the actors slashed away, seemingly in the most reckless manner, dancing all the time. The sword - points were placed into their eyes and ears, and the edges round their throats, but not a scratch was sustained. This performance gained the loudest plaudits of the audience. Some pretty Eastern dances were given by Malay women; and the men went through the wonderful fire-dance.