he went down into the refectory, and partook of what was provided, never forgetting the ancient custom of setting aside a large portion for the poor. If illness, or some necessary occupation hindered him from dining with the rest, he had some one, while he ate, to read him some portion of what he had dictated in the morning, and directed corrections to be made. On rising from the table, he was in the habit of going to visit the sick in the infirmary, not merely to ask after their health, but to inquire if they were in want of anything, especially when there were strangers there, and he used secretly to instruct the infirmarians to find out the truth, and would bountifully provide for their wants out of the means at his disposal.

Leaving the infirmary, he used to join the fathers assembled for recreation, when talking was permitted, and would converse with them in a lively and cheerful manner for some half-anhour, and at times only a quarter. Returning to his cell, he would lie down for half-an-hour, or for a very short space.

If nones were sung, he attended, and would stay a long time. At seasons when there were no nones, he would call for the writer at about one o'clock, and spend the time till compline, or night, in dictating.

After compline, from which he was never absent, he would continue in prayer for hours together before the Blessed Sacrament, concluding his devotions with a long and severe discipline. After this, he used to recite matins with his cellcompanion.

His supper, when the fasts of the Order did not prohibit it, was usually two eggs, which either he or his companion cooked over the flame of a lamp, with a few crumbs of bread, and a little wine much diluted with water. This he took at eleven at night.

He was a constant tenant of his cell, never leaving the House but on occasions of great importance. He went to the palace when sent for. Visitors at the house were few, none complimentary. Any who came to him for comfort or help he received kindly, listened to them, and counselled them, and then would courteously dismiss them, and take up again the thread of his pious exercises.

RETIREMENTS.

Fray Luis was a passionate lover of solitude. We have already mentioned that at Scala Cœli he spent much time, and composed many of his works by the side of a mountain torrent. In Portugal he found a place exactly suited to his wishes. The town of Pedroagon el Grande crowns a bold and lofty sierra; the monastery of our Lady of Light stands on a declivity covered with wild rocks and trees, down which the river Zezere rushes. It is full of sheer descents and precipices, to look from which might make the boldest heart shrink. At the foot of the rock on which the monastery stands, the impetuous Zezere meets with the smaller Pera, as it dashes along over rocks and stones. They cause an appalling sound, which is heard at an immense distance, the dull roar of the larger river mingling with the thinner and sharper sound of the other. They are hemmed in by lofty sierras, some peaks shooting upwards till their summits are lost in the clouds, others of less elevation clothed with dense and savage thickets, the haunt of boars, wolves, and other ferocious animals which prowl up to the very gates of the eity in search of prey. The whole scene is one of utter desolation and loneliness. The first time that Father Luis came to this house, he was wonderfully pleased with it. During the days that he was there, he spent much time among the rocks beneath the convent in prayer and meditation. Such was the delight he had there, that he ever spoke of Pedroagon with deep affection and longing, and when his occupations at Lisbon permitted it, he would return to those deep solitudes to spend days in prayer and contemplation. It was here that he composed many of his works, choosing for his Patmos a spot at the extremity of the precincts, at the foot of a very high rock which overhangs the place where the rivers Zezere and Pera meet. The rock is called to this day Granada's Rock.

IMPOSTURE OF THE PRIORESS.

Fray Luis de Granada had attained to an extreme old age,

when his reputation which had spread throughout Christendom suffered for a time great though unjust detriment, in consequence of an occurrence which made a great noise in the world. Maria de la Visitacion, Prioress of the convent of the Anunciada at Lisbon, had become the object of public admiration, not only in Portugal and Spain, but in other countries, and in Rome itself. It was related that GOD had conferred on her most astonishing and especial favours as rewards for her supposed virtues; that her revelations were frequent and startling; that she had on her body the marks of the five wounds of the SAVIOUR, open and bleeding; that she was often surrounded by supernatural light, and at other times was lifted up from the ground, and remained suspended in the air. People of the highest rank, divines and friars, gave credit to these portents. From persons of the blood royal, and others of the highest rank, she constantly received magnificent gifts of gold, silver, and jewels; and many learned and pious men sought to place themselves under her direction, and consulted her in their doubts, scruples, and temptations. Without going to these extremes, Fray Luis fell, like so many others, into the snare; and not only did he, in perfect good faith, give credit to all that was reported of this woman, but he even censured those who ridiculed her, and disbelieved her communications with the DEITY, and thought the marks that she exhibited an imposture.

But on the 9th of August 1588 the Cardinal Albert, Governor and Inquisitor-General of the kingdom, having conceived some suspicions of the nun's veracity, appointed a commission to inquire into the reality of these marvels. It consisted of two Bishops, two councillors, a Jesuit, and a Dominican Prelate. In her first statement the impostor detailed, at great length, a series of prodigies which GOD had been pleased to work in her, and of singular and supernatural favours which He had bestowed on her, some of them so unworthy of the Majesty of the Supreme Being, and so incompatible with His Wisdom, that the narration alone was enough to convict her of profaneness, hypocrisy, and falsehood. Not contenting themselves with this, however, the commissioners proceeded to a personal inspection

of her wounds, making different experiments on them to test their reality. These trials showed that they were feigned, and it was then discovered that the infatuated woman did not possess even the cunning that was needful to sustain her. part, and to give her fables some degree of verisimilitude. Finding herself detected, she publicly confessed her misconduct, declared her shame and penitence, and was condemned to a severe penance. Although such deceptions of false devotion were by no means uncommon in that age, and are unhappily but too often repeated in our own days, the incident of the Portuguese nun was the occasion of terrible scandal in the Church. Many grave and learned men wrote on the subject, and some of them declared that fanaticism, superstition, and erroneous belief were the predominating vices of the day, and the chief cause of the deep degradation and ignorance in which the people were sunk.

The bitter news of these discoveries was received by Fray Luis with more grief for the nun's guilt than sorrow for the injury inflicted on his own reputation. Instead of persisting in his error, or suffering his mind to be depressed by an event which might tend to lower him in the public estimation, he returned thanks to GOD for having permitted the discovery of the truth, and preserved the Church from being dishonoured by the triumph of falsehood. He composed a sermon on the subject, taking for his text the words of S. Paul, “Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is offended, and I burn not?" In this he points out the benefit that the good may derive from such enormous scandals. He warns Christians to fear and distrust their own selves as long as they live, however far advanced they may consider themselves in the practice of virtue, when they see how easily those fall who live a life committed to GOD, and out of the reach of temptation. He speaks of the sin of scandal, and of blaming those who are living in retirement and meditation, because of the fall of one. He severely admonishes the weak and faint-hearted, who, seeing one whom they believed in fall, give way to discouragement, and leave their own religious practices, and he concludes with some counsels on the use of the Sacraments. He made haste to publish this; it was his last work. Already he felt the first symptoms of his mortal disease.

LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH.

Luis de Granada had already suffered from two severe illnesses. In the first he had entirely lost his sight. He was always short-sighted. After a night of hard work, poring over papers, and preparing a sermon for the next day, he discovered in the morning that the sight of one eye was entirely gone. He preached his sermon with the utmost tranquillity and calmness, When both eyes appeared to have failed, he applied himself to the study of music, that he might play the organ at Divine Service. In a few months the sight of one eye returned. From that time he always wrote on coloured paper.

The second illness was the relaxation of a small rupture. This occurred in 1586, and occasioned him great distress, not so much on account of the intense pain, as of the necessary exposure before the doctors who vainly attempted to reduce it, which was repulsive to his feelings of modesty.

It was in the year 1588, when he had completed the eightyfourth year of his age, that, after a very rigid abstinence during Advent, his digestion became disordered to such an extent as to produce a slow fever, with severe pain and vomitings. The physicians attempted to cure him by stimulants, which only aggravated the symptoms. When he perceived that his disease would soon bring him to his eternal rest, he rejoiced exceedingly, his face was full of peace and tranquillity, and had the appearance of perfect health. His only anxiety was to enter soon into the presence of GOD. He never complained of any thing, even when things were brought him at wrong times, and badly prepared, as will happen in communities.

On the 30th of December the physicians found him very weak, and desired that he should receive the Viaticum. When the announcement was made to him, he showed no emotion or regret. Well might he say in his heart, "I was glad when they said unto me, We will go into the house of the LORD. Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house, they will be always praising Thee." He made his confession before his departure,