and the saintly chatemite. When they have studied Gray's verses, "On the Death of a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes," their education may be held complete, and their tastes carefully cultivated in the right direction. No child brought up along these lines will be indifferent to feline character or charm. One source of pleasure, well worth the cultivation, has been secured for life.
Yet how much more there is to read and learn! Where shall we look without encountering an animal that has inspired poets and painters, that has been the companion of scholars, the delight of authors, the solace of statesmen, the friend of prelates, the beloved of saints! What an admirable story is that which the holy deacon, John, deemed worthy to be told in his "Life of Saint Gregory," and which has at once the exquisite grace of asceticism and the warmth and colour of humanity. There lived, he says, during the pontificate of Gregory, a poor hermit, pious, vigilant, and austere. To him it was revealed in a vision that he would share in Heaven the glory of the Pope, at which he marvelled much; partly because of his unworthiness, and partly because—owning nothing in the world but a female cat—he had hoped, in moments of spiritual exaltation, that some especial reward would be meted out to his rigorous self-denial. Then a second vision was vouchsafed; he looked into the
