the well, he would always find three fishes as at the first. It happened soon after this, that the saint was afflicted with a grievous disorder, and unable for some days to take any sustenance. Barius, his faithful and affectionate servant, being alarmed at his long abstinence, went to the well and caught two fish, which he cooked in different ways, boiling one and broiling the other, and brought them to his master on a dish. The saint immediately took alarm, and inquired whence the two fish had been brought. Barius, with honest simplicity, told him that he had taken them from the well, and had dressed them in different ways, hoping that if the one did not suit his sickly palate, the other might. Then said the saint, "Why hast thou done this?" and commanded his trembling servant to take the fishes again to the well, and throwing himself prostrate, he continued in prayer, until Barius returning, acquainted him that the two fishes, after being dressed, were now in the well alive and active, disporting in the water as usual. The saint then desired him to go again, and catch one fish only and dress it for his use, of which he had no sooner tasted than he recovered his health again.

A remarkable incident is mentioned in the life of St. Leven, of Cornwall. One evening he was on the rocks fishing. There was a heavy pull on his line, and drawing it in, he found two fishes on the same hook. The saint, anxious to serve both alike, to avoid even the appearance of partiality, took both the fishes off the hook, and cast them back into the sea. Again they came to the hook, and were returned to the sea. For the third time the two fishes hooked themselves again. St. Leven, upon this, thought there must be some reason for this strange occurrence, so he took both fishes home with him. On his arrival he found his sister, St. Breage, had come to visit him with two children. Then he thought he saw the hand of Providence at work in guiding the fish to his hook. But the result was unfortunate; the fish were cooked, and the children being hungry, were choked by eating the bones.

Among the numerous miracles attributed to Thomas à

Becket is the following: When passing through St. Omers and Gravelines with some companions, as they were crossing a river, one of them asked him as a favour to the hospitable monks, who were about to receive them in their monastery, "ut in adventu tuo comedunt pinguia." Becket replied that, being Wednesday, this might not be. "Forsan non abundant piscibus," said his companion. "Domini est providere," replied Becket; and at the word a great bream leaped out of the river into his lap.

Dr. Walsh, in his "Travels of Macarius," relates the following miracle: "At the distance of a quarter of a mile from the walls is Balukli, or the Church of Fishes. The church is so called from a legend that has rendered it very celebrated among the Greeks. There stood on this place a small monastery of Greek Calayers, when Mahomet laid siege to Constantinople, who, it seems, were not molested by his army. On the day of the decisive attack, a monk was frying some fish, when news was suddenly brought to the convent that the Turks had entered the town, through the breach in the walls. 'I would as soon believe,' said he,' that these fried fish would spring from the pan, and become again alive.' To reprove the incredulous monk, the fish did spring from the pan into a vessel of water which stood near, and swam about as if they had never been taken out of it. In commemoration of this miracle, a church was erected over the spot, containing a reservoir of water, into which the fish, which still continued alive, were placed. The 29th of April was appointed in the Greek calendar as a festival to commemorate the circumstance; and a vast concourse of people used to assemble here on every anniversary day to see the miraculous and everlasting fishes swim about the reservoir."

It is recorded of St. Pol de Léon, a saint of Brittany, that his sister lived in a convent of nuns near his own monastery. It was situated on the sea-shore, and exposed to the tempestuous winds of the north. She represented the case of the convent to her brother, when he ordered the sea to retire four thousand

paces from the convent, which it did immediately. He then directed his sister and her companions to range a row of flints along the shore for a considerable distance, which was no sooner done than they increased to large rocks, which so entirely broke the force of the winds that the convent was never after incommoded.

It is stated of St. Corentin, of Brittany, that every morning a little fish was seen in a fountain near his hermitage. The saint caught it, cut off a sufficient quantity for his repast, then threw the rest into the water, when the fish became whole again, and on the next morning was ready for another quartering. A similar story is told by an Eastern traveller, Abou-el-Cassim, who, alluding to a river which flows from Mount Caucasus into the Black Sea, says: "Every year there arrives in this part of the river a great quantity of fish. The people cut off the flesh. on one side of them, eat it, and let the fish go. The year following, the same creatures return and offer the other side, which they had preserved untouched.

that new flesh has replaced the old."

It is then discovered

Among the curiosities of fish legends, we find how St. Patrick, once overcome by hunger, helped himself to pork chops on a fast-day. An angel met him with the forbidden cutlets in his hand; but the saint popped them into a pail of water, pattered an Ave Mary over them, and the chops were turned into a couple of respectable and orthodox-looking trout. The angel looked perplexed and went away, with his index-finger on the side of his nose. And see what became of it! In Ireland, meat dipped into water and christened by the name of "St. Patrick's fish," is commonly eaten there even on fast-days, and to the great regret of all those who eat greedily enough to acquire an indigestion.

These stories remind us of the miracle performed by two Christian pilgrims in Poland, who, when travelling, arrived at the house of a peasant, who was entertaining some friends on a fat hog that had been killed for the occasion. The pilgrims were so hospitably entertained, that they pronounced a blessing

on the half-consumed hog, which from thenceforth never diminished in weight. This "cut and come again" was frequently resorted to by the gratified peasant and his family.

A different reception was encountered by St. Augustine, in one of his visits to an English town. The inhabitants showered upon him every kind of insult, especially the fishermen, who laid hands on the archbishop and his company, and ill-treated them. The saint, to punish them, caused the tails of fish to grow behind them.

The John Dory enjoyed an enviable notoriety among fishes, greatly owing, no doubt, to its culinary merits. It seems to have been held in particular veneration by the Greeks, who, in ancient days, gave it the name of their supreme god, Zeus or Jupiter. The modern name is said to be derived from the French word adorée, worshipped. The modern Greeks also treat the fish with due respect, by hanging it up in their most sacred places of worship. According to some writers, it was the dory and not the haddock that furnished St. Peter with the tribute money, which has so far obtained credit that many contend the name is derived from il janitore, or the "door-keeper," in allusion to St. Peter's office of keeping the keys of heaven. In the "Dialogues of Metellus" (1693), we read:

"O superstitious dainty, Peter's fish ;

How cam'st thou here to make so goodly dish?"

The dark spot on the dory was said to be the impression. left by the finger and thumb of St. Peter. Others assert that this mark was occasioned by the fingers of St. Christopher, who captured one of these fishes as he was in the act of carrying his Master across a ford. John is said to be a corruption of the French word jaune (yellow), from the golden tint that prevails over this fish when taken out of the water.

The fishermen of Filey, in Yorkshire, account for the black marks on the haddock by the following legend: "The Evil Spirit, in one of his mischievous pranks, determined to build Filey Bridge for the destruction of ships and sailors, and the

annoyance of fishermen. In the progress of his work, he accidentally let fall his hammer into the sea, and, being in haste to snatch it back, caught a haddock instead, and thereby made the imprint retained by this fish to the present day."

Buchanan, in his "History of Scotland," relating the accession of Ethus, the seventy-second king of Scotland (874), says: "Among the prodigies of his time, they reckon those sea-fishes then appearing, which are seldom seen, and after long intervals of time; but they never appear but in shoals, nor without some unlucky presage. The common people call them Monachi-marini; ie., sea-monks."

"In Normandy," says Hoare, in his "Giraldus," "a few days before the death of Henry II., the fish of a certain pool near Seez, five miles from the Castle of Exme, fought during the night so furiously with each other, both in the water and out of it, that the neighbouring people were attracted by the noise of it to the spot; and so desperate was the conflict that scarcely a fish was found alive in the morning: thus by a wonderful and unheard-of prognostic foretelling the death of one by that of many."

During the life and penance of St. Gregory, he sold all his goods for the benefit of the poor, retaining nothing for himself but a silver basin, given to him by his mother St. Silvia. One day a poor shipwrecked sailor came several times to the cell where he was writing; and as he had no money, he gave him the basin. A long time after, St. Gregory saw the same shipwrecked sailor reappear, in the form of his guardian-angel, who told him that henceforward God had destined him to rule his Church and become the successor of the papal ruler.

The Jews have a queer Talmudistical tradition that the sea threw out a great fish; sixty cities ate of it, and sixty cities salted some of its flesh for food. From one of its eyes were made three hundred measures of oil.

Fishes used to be considered unlawful food in the East, as the name of Allah could not frequently be pronounced over them before they died. To obviate this, Mahomet, it is said,