and goodness of God are more mysterious to us mortals
when we consider them lavished in extraordinary munificence on the
souls of poor sinners. When we feel crushed to the earth in our
unworthiness, the forgiving spirit of God lifts us up and pours around
us consolations which are the privilege of the innocent. Thus the
humble Alvira little dreamt what might be the grand consolations
destined for her; but the time of their fulfilment has come, and we
find her startled from an ecstasy in the church in which one of the
promised favors was bestowed on this child of grace. She described
to Father Francis what happened with many tears of joy.

Whilst wrapt in prayer in the lonely moments that followed the
Benediction of the Most Holy Sacrament and the closing of the church
doors, she suddenly saw the altar and sanctuary disappear, and in their
stead a luminous bank of moving clouds; they were white as the
snow-drift, and crystallized in a flood of light like Alpine peaks
in the winter sunshine.

These clouds moved rapidly before her astonished gaze, occasionally
she saw through their rents a tinge of red flame that glowed in the
fleecy mist like the crimson linings of sunset. The brighter clouds
gradually faded; the flames became fiercer and more distinct; they
seemed to leap in fury around the altar and sanctuary. Alvira
struggled in doubt for a moment. Perhaps a real conflagration was
consuming the tabernacle. A scream of agony was already on her lips,
when the scene glided into a still more vivid reality, leaving no
doubt as to its character. In the burning element human beings
appeared writhing in pain; angels of dazzling brightness floated over
the fire, and every moment caught the outstretched arms of some
fortunate soul whose purgatorial probation had terminated; the angel
would carry the soul to a distant sphere of brightness whither
Alvira's weak mortal gaze could not follow.

Suddenly there darted from the far light an angel clothed with the
brilliancy of the sun. With the speed of lightning he plunged far
down the purgatory fire; his brightness was so great that Alvira
could follow him even through the flames. There the angel found a
young, beautiful soul, deep in agony, clothed with crimson fire. A
smile of ineffable joy lit up the countenance of the sufferer--the
message from heaven was understood. The angel lifted this soul from
the fire, and, pausing for a moment on the peak of a lambent flame,