eachers, the daughters of St. Benedict in Lisieux, so
that she could say before her death: "I do not think it is
possible for anyone to have desired more than I to assist properly
at choir and to recite perfectly the Divine Office"--may it not be
to the influences from Le Mans that may be traced something of the
honey-sweet spirit of St. Francis de Sales which pervades the
pages of the Autobiography?

With the brother of Zelie Guerin the reader will make acquaintance
in the narrative of Therese. He was a chemist in Lisieux, and it
was there his daughter Jeanne Guerin married Dr. La Neele and his
younger child Marie entered the Carmel. Our foreign missionaries
had a warm friend in the uncle of Therese--for his charities he
was made godfather to an African King; and to the Catholic
Press--that home missionary--he was ever most devoted. Founder, at
Lisieux, of the Nocturnal Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, and
a zealous member of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, he was
called to his abundant reward on September 28, 1909. Verily the
lamp of faith is not extinct in the land of the Norman.

The Father of Therese, after the death of his wife, likewise made
his home in the delightful town which lies amid the beautiful
apple orchards of the valley of the Touques. Lisieux is deeply
interesting by reason of its fine old churches of St. Jacques and
St. Pierre, and its wonderful specimens of quaint houses, some of
which date from the twelfth century. In matters of faith it is
neither fervent nor hostile, and in 1877 its inhabitants little
thought that through their new citizen, Marie Francoise Therese
Martin, their town would be rendered immortal.

* * * * * *

"The cell at Lisieux reminds us of the cell of the Blessed Gabriel
at Isola. There is the same even tenor of way, the same
magnificant fidelity in little things, the same flames of divine
charity, consuming but concealed. Nazareth, with the simplicity of
its Child, and the calm abysmal love of Mary and Joseph--Nazareth,
adorable but imitable, gives the key to her spirit, and her
Autobiography does but repeat the lessons of the thirty hidden
years."[2]

And it repeats them with an unrivalled charm. "This master of
asceticism," writes a biographer[3] of St. Ignatius Loyola, "loved
the garden and loved the flowers. In the balcony of his study he
sat gazing on the stars: it was then Lainez heard him say: 'Oh,
how earth grows base to me when I look on Heave