of the children, and the golden radiance of June sunlight, and the
sparkling of the sea, and the thought that I held the Lord and Master of
all between my hands, my fancy would go back to that wondrous lake on
whose waters the Lord did walk, and from whose shores He selected the
future teachers of the world. The lake calm in the sunlight, the fish
gleaming in the nets, the half-naked Apostles bending over the gunwales
of their boats to drag in the nets, the stately, grave figure of our
Lord, the wondering women who gazed on Him afar off with fear and
love--all came up before my fancy, that only came back to reality when I
touched the shoulders of Reginald Ormsby and the doctor, who, with two
rough fishermen, belonging to the Third Order of St. Francis, held the
gilded poles of the canopy. They manifested great piety and love and
reverence all the way. Ormsby had brought over all his coast-guards
except the two that were on duty at the station, and they formed a noble
guard of honor around the canopy; and it was difficult to say which was
the more beautiful and picturesque--the demonstrative love of the
peasant women, who flung up their hands in a paroxysm of devotion,
whilst they murmured in the soft Gaelic: "Ten thousand, thousand thanks
to you, _O white and ruddy Saviour_!" or the calm, deep, silent
tenderness of these rough men, whose faces were red and tanned and
bronzed from the action of sun and sea. And the little children, who
were not in the procession, peeped out shyly from beneath their mothers'
cloaks, and their round, wondering eyes rested on the white Host, who in
His undying words had once said: "Suffer little children to come unto
me!" Let no one say that our poor Irish do not grasp the meaning of this
central mystery of our faith! It is true that their senses are touched
by more visible things; but whoever understands our people will agree
with me that no great theologian in his study, no philosopher in his
rostrum, no sacred nun in her choir, realizes more distinctly the awful
meaning of that continued miracle of love and mercy that is enshrined on
our altars, and named _Emmanuel_.

But all things come around, sooner or later, in their destined courses,
and Monday dawned, fair and sunny and beautiful, as befitted the events
that were to take place. There was a light summer haze on sea and land;
and just a ripple of a breeze blown down as a message from the
inhospitable hills. Father Letheby said early