very plainly on the canvass. Again a lovely girl would be asked to pose,
but here alas was disappointment, for oftentimes the face expressed
prettiness, but nothing more. Then again the canvass reflected the image
of some worldly-wise woman with selfishness stamped upon it. Again the
look of envy stared him in the face, or pride mocked at him while he
struggled vainly on. As the last resort a young mother and her child
were requested to favor him with a sitting. Here he thought "I shall
surely succeed." He worked steadily on and success seemed at last before
him. The last stroke of the brush had been made and stepping back to
view the work, his heart sank within him, for here he had succeeded in
catching the look of lovely maternity, with the expression of the
earthly mother imprinted thereon, but the combination of human love and
Divine motherhood was wanting.

Just at nightfall, sick at heart, weary and discouraged, he wandered
out into the streets, going on and on until he found himself in the
portion of the city inhabited by the very poor; passing an old church,
he was attracted toward it, scarcely knowing how or why. On entering the
door, he saw a woman dressed in rags, kneeling before the altar. The man
gazed in wonder and awe, for here amidst poverty and distress, he had
found the expression vainly sought after, for weeks and months. In the
face before him, there was no envy, hatred or selfishness, no vain glory
or hypocracy, but the resigned look of one who suffered but bowed,
meekly to the chastizement. At eventide, and alone, she had brought her
sufferings to the foot of the Cross.

* * * * *

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