In the history of most saints who have exercised a reformatory and lasting influence upon monastic institutions, the name and influence of some holy woman is almost invariably found associated with their work and devotedness. These bold combatants in the war of the Spirit against the flesh seemed to have drawn strength and consolation from a chaste and fervent community of sacrifices, prayers, and virtues, with a mother or a sister, by blood or choice, whose sanctity shed upon one corner of their glorious lives a ray of sweeter and more familiar light. To instance only the greatest: Macrina is seen by the side of S. Basil, and the names of Monica and Augustine are inseparable; as in later ages are those of S. Francis of Assisi and S. Clara, S. Francis of Sales and S. Jeanne Chantal. S. Benedict had also a sister, born on the same day with himself, named Scholastica; they loved each other as twins often love, with fraternal regard, elevated into a passion. But both loved God above all. Still earlier than her brother, Scholastica had consecrated herself to God from her infancy; and, in becoming a nun, she made herself the patroness and model of the innumerable family of virgins who were to acknowledge, adopt, and follow the code of her brother. She rejoined him at Monte Cassino, and established herself in a monastery, in the depths of a valley near the holy mountain. Benedict directed her from afar, as he did many other nuns in the neighbourhood. But they met only once a year, and then it was Scholastica who left her cloister, and sought her brother. He, on his side, went to meet her: they met upon the side of the mountain, not far from the door of the monastery, in a spot which has long been venerated. There, at their last meeting, occurred that struggle of fraternal love, and the austerity of the rule, recorded by S. Gregory,[31] which is the only known episode in the life of Scholastica, and which has insured an imperishable remembrance to her name. They had passed the entire day in pious conversation, mingled with praises of God. Towards the evening they ate together. While they were still at table, and the night approached, Scholastica said to her brother, "I pray thee, do not leave me to-night, but let us speak of the joys of heaven till the morning." "What sayest thou, my sister?" answered Benedict; "on no account can I remain out of the monastery." Upon the refusal of her brother, Scholastica bent her head between her clasped hands on the table, but prayed to God, shedding torrents of tears, to such an extent, that the table was flooded with them. The weather was very serene: there was not a cloud in the air. But scarcely had she raised her head when thunder was heard, and a violent storm began; the rain, lightning, and thunder were such, that neither Benedict, nor any of his brethren, who accompanied him, could take a step beyond the roof that sheltered them. Then he said to Scholastica,