keenest suffering of the soul will be the remembrance of that which it has seen for a passing moment, and the pining to behold again and forever the face of God. It has been revealed to Saints that so intense is this desire, that the soul would gladly place itself even in the most fearful tortures, could it thus become more quickly purged from that which withholds it from the presence of God. Did we but well consider, and enter into this feeling, we should be much more careful about our imperfections and our venial sins. * * * * * The Saints have ever desired suffering, and consider it as the greatest favor which could be bestowed upon them; not that it is in itself desirable, but because it perfects love. Let us, then, we who are not Saints, think of Purgatory with more affection; let us rejoice that, if we are not privileged to have keen, unearthly anguish in this life, we shall yet suffer, and suffer intensely, in the next. Our love will be purified; our dross be purged away; the weary pain which we feel continually when we think how vile we are in the sight of God, how the eye of Jesus, with all its tenderness, must often turn from us in sorrow--the weary pain, the deep degradation of misery and sin, will one day cease; we shall not tremble under our Father's eye, or long to hide ourselves from our Father's countenance. Now we must often feel, when trying with our whole hearts to please God, how impure, how sullied we are before Him. Our pride, our vanity, our impatience, our self-love, are all there. God sees them; how can He, then, look on us as we desire He should? And often we almost long to be in those purging flames, even should it be for years and years, that this vileness might be burned away. PART V. LEGENDARY AND POETICAL. Well beseems That we should help them wash away the stains They carried hence; that so, made pure and light, They may spring upward to the starry spheres. Ah! so may mercy tempered justice rid Your burdens speedily; that ye have power To stretch your wing, which e'en to your desire Shall lift you. --DANTE. LEGENDARY AND POETICAL. DIES IRÆ. The day of wrath, that dreadful day Shall the whole world in ashes lay, As David and Sybils say. What horror will invade the mind, When the strict Judge, who would be kind, Shall have few venial faults to find! The last loud trumpet's wondrous sound Must thro' the rending tombs rebound, And wake the nations underground. Nature and death shall with surprise Behold the pale offender rise, And view the Judge with conscious eyes. Then shall with universal dread, The sacred mystic book be read, To try the living and the dead. The Judge ascends His awful throne, He makes each secret sin be known, And all with shame confess their own. O then! what int'rest shall I make, To save my last important stake, When the most just have cause to quake!