with a knotted rope. By this
strange girdle the wearer was continually reminded that the body is a
beast to be subdued by a halter.

[Footnote 3: From the French frere.]

On account of his learning, St. Anthony became a teacher of theology.
He was connected successively with the universities of Bologna,
Toulouse, Paris, and Padua, and with this last city his name has ever
since been associated. At length, however, he forsook all other
employments and devoted himself wholly to preaching among the people.

These were troublous times in Italy, when the poor were cruelly
oppressed by the rich. St. Anthony espoused the cause of those who
were wronged, and denounced all forms of tyranny. His influence was a
great power among the people, and many stories are told of his
preaching. It is related that one day, as he was explaining to his
hearers the mystery of the Incarnation, the Christ-child appeared to
him as in a vision.

It is this story which the painter had in mind in our picture: St.
Anthony kneels before the mother and babe in an ecstasy of devotion.
An open book lies on the ground beside him, as if he had been conning
its pages when the vision broke upon him. The landscape surroundings
are especially appropriate, for St. Anthony was fond of out-of-door
life. His sermons were often given in the open air, and it is said
that he sometimes preached to the fishes. He delighted to point out to
his hearers the beauties of nature, the whiteness of the swan, the
mutual charity of the storks, and the purity and fragrance of the
lilies.

[Illustration: THE VISION OF ST. ANTHONY
_Brera Gallery, Milan_]

The poetic refinement of his nature is indicated in his face. He is
young and handsome, with the gentle expression which used to win the
hearts of his hearers. There is little here to show the more
forcible elements of his character. The tonsured head is the common
mark of membership in religious orders.

The Christ-child bends forward to caress the saint's face with his
tiny hand. He is a loving little fellow, not particularly pretty,
except in his infantine plumpness, yet the face is full of innocent
sweetness. A mysterious light shines above his head, the emblem of
divinity. The good friar does not presume to touch the holy child, but
folds his hands reverently across his breast. His eyes are lifted with
the rapt look of the visionary.

St. Anthony's biographers tell us how he loved to recite the old Latin
hymn by S