There was a third body, the Arch-Confraternity of San Girolamo, that devoted itself to the defence and aid of prisoners and, more especially, of poor widows. The gentlemen composing it—and they were the flower of the aristocracy, ecclesiastical and social—made it their business to assist impecunious prisoners in every possible way, paying their fines, if such had been imposed on them, and arranging matters with their creditors if they had been imprisoned for debt. The members had free access to all the prisons and they took their duties very seriously, some of their number examining the food every day of the year, and enquiring into all matters connected with the treatment of the prisoners. Indeed some of the most important prisons were confided to their sole charge. They did no end of good, particularly in bringing about amicable settlements of disputes which would otherwise have caused fierce litigation. Our blessed Pius IX had a tender sympathy for poor debtors and often came to their assistance. He was constantly in money difficulties himself—as generous people so often are—during the earlier part of his career. When he became Archbishop of Spoleto he had to borrow a goodly sum, on his brother’s security, from a Roman money-lender to defray the expenses of his installation, and he was so recklessly charitable that again and again there was not wherewithal to buy food. His old housekeeper at Spoleto used to weep over the bare shelves of her larder—everybody was fed, she declared, except her master and his household! It was hoped that things would be better when he moved to Imola, where the Episcopal revenue was double that of Spoleto, but the master’s ways were hopeless and he only laughed when his people remonstrated with him. There came a day at Imola when the distracted steward, ready to tear his hair, exclaimed: “Eminenza, there was a hundred dollars in the treasury this morning, and _it is all gone_! I have not a cent for the ‘spese’” (the current expenses); “what shall we do?” The Cardinal reminded him that the good God had promised daily bread to His children. “That is true, Eminenza,” said the poor man, “but—I am in terrible difficulty, all the same!” “Well,” said his master, “to-morrow is a fast day. I know you have some cheese in the house. Serve that for dinner.” “But the next day, Eminenza?” “Oh, I will take care to leave enough for the next day!” was the Cardinal’s reply.