hearted. He had kept away from petty meannesses. He had fought
down his natural selfishness. He had learned not to be always
seeking his own little advantage, not to put himself forward for
praise, not to insist on his " rights," not to boast and carry a
high hand with his comrades, not to talk a lot about himself.
He had learned to forgive little offenses, and big ones, too, for
that matter. He knew all about how our Lord had suffered and put up
with things and forgiven those who hurt Him. And he loved our Lord
so much, was so much at home with Him, that almost without effort he
acted as our Lord would want him to act. He had plenty of spirit,
and a whole world of pluck and daring; but he was not quarrelsome.
Then he was as cheerful as sunshine, and he made every one else
cheerful. Why, the boys could not help loving a boy like him.

Sodalities were rare in those days; but the college boys of Vienna
had a sodality, devoted to the honor of our Lady, and under the
patronage of Saint Barbara. At their meetings; the sodalists in turn
had to address their companions, give a little talk about the
Blessed Virgin, or on some virtue, or the like.

Whenever Stanislaus' turn came, the boys were all expectation. He
was no older than most of them; indeed, younger perhaps. But he had
an older head. He had done more thinking than they, and a deal more
praying. He had no false shame or babyish timidity. If he had
anything to say, he was not afraid to say it. And he certainly had
something to say. It had come to be as easy for him to talk about
our Lady and heaven as for other boys to talk about their mothers at
home. He had treasured up stories of the Blessed Virgin's help, with
which Catholic Poland was filled. He spoke simply, unaffectedly, of
our Lady's love for us, of her power, her willingness to aid us. And