Weekly Trinity journal., 1860-08-25
The Sinbaf Mater.
A BEAUTIFUL STORY.

We give place to the following beautiful sketch
translated from the German of Elise Polko's
Musikaische Marchen, Phantasian und Skizzen''
of Stabat Mater DOlorOsd:
6" See Naples and die! ~ These words must
have rung in the ears of every one whose glance
fell on the noble landscape around Naples, on q
brilliant October morning, in the year 1885
There she lay, the fairy city, with her countless
cupolas and towers. over which hung the radiant
golden veil of early dawn There arose on high
the mighty, cloud crowned cupola of the greatest
of cathedrals-the summit of Vesuvius. And
the lovely bay, rocking hither and thither rested
on the proud breast of earth like heavy golden
drop fallen from the floating sea Of light above.
A warm, rosy air trembled above the thick myr-
tie and orange woods, played among the slender
vine branches. as they friendly reached out their
green hands to each other, and danced along the
garden Of the road, and kissed the large flowers
and crcepers that covered the ground with n col
ored net 1t seemed as though the breath of God
noa:ed over this fairest spot on his earth, as
though peace. joy and beauty must dwell here
forever.
On The gentle slope of a aowery hill, hidden
behind q luxuriant growth OF laurel-roses, over
shadowed by platanes and olive trees, half over
grown with magnolias aud tender vines, stood
large crucilix of stone, with figure OF the allic
ted Madonna at its feet Probably some strange
accident had brought the group hther, and pious
faith had sought to save the treasure from destruc
ton in this humble asylum; for the workmanship
was of astonishing beauty, aud deserved place
in the proudest church. In every line of the
life sized figures the hand of master could be
traced, whose genius had transformed the hard
stone into soft mass, breathing life and soul
it was the victorious hero of faith, whose form
hung on the cross, and not the dying martyr.
The noble features were calm holy, almost trans
figured; the beautiful body lay in the unconquer-
af Inafh trao aof II.
or conflict. But Maria, the mater doorosa! A
glorious form, not sinking but crushed under
weight of woe wondrous face on which
vast sorrow was petrified picture OF pain that
hath no end. Stony tears-how fearfully heavy
hung from the eyelids, and the fine mouth was
cramped with misery that knew no consolation
in heaven or earth. Fresh green leaves softly
nestled against the drapery of the sufferer, and
sweet flowers, out-springing close to the body of
the crucifed one. softly covered the wounds.
Seldom did pious wanderer discover this group,
seldom was O knee bowed before this cross.
On the above mentioned October morning,
however, 1t happened that a pale young man
threw himself before this holy group his face
was serious and suffering one, iatigued and sor-
rowful were his eyes. weak and bent his tall ig-
ure with deep sigh he looked toward the cru
Gifted One. He saw the heavenly peace of the
great dead, aud shudder of involuntary belief
came over him he saw the angelic features OF
Maria, the nameess grief they expressed, aud
drew back from the influence of such immeasura-
BILE woe. Pity seized his soul he longed to
draw the sword that pierced the mothers breast;
it seemed as though the stony tears cried aloud
for mercy. The ills he had brought hither dis
appeared before the giant weight OF his silent
pain all complaint hurled back to his heart, he
forgot the consuming troubles Of his breast, and
humbly bowed bis head
At this moment, clear Ape Maria rang through
the air, sung by two lively female voices-a pair
of sisters, whose sick mother the Madonna had
graciously healed, approached, bringing the
queen Of heaven their daily thank offering OF
fresh flowers. They were two fair forms, one tall
and full, with proud glance and cheeks glowing
with life the other, blonde, tender, with black
eyes, and soft, delicate features. They laid their
fragrant flowers at the foot of the cruciix, prayed
softly, and then moved away. But the fair haired
maiden turned her pretty head to look after the
lonely youth who still knelt there, praying.
He then looked up and cried:
= Madonna, have pity on me am alone and
suffering in this fair world Give me a heart to
love me, and heal the wound Of my sick breast"
Then it seemed as IL veil fell from his eyes {:
the figure of the Madonna seemed to move, the
fire of life streamed over the face OF the mother
Of sorrows, and her stony mouth brea!hed: