MiracuPou/ pPani/. 



first Roses, both white and red. According to monastic tradition, 

 the martyr-saint Dorothea sent a basket of Roses miraculously to 

 the notary Theophilus, from the garden of Paradise. The Romish 

 legend of St. Cecilia relates that after Valerian, her husband, had 

 been converted and baptised by St. Urban, he returned to his home, 

 and heard, as he entered it, the most enchanting music. On 

 reaching his wife's apartment, he beheld an angel standing near 

 her, who held in his hand two crowns of Roses gathered in 

 Paradise, immortal in their freshness and perfume, but invisible to 

 the eyes of unbelievers. With these the angel encircled the 

 brows of Cecilia and Valerian, and promised that the eyes of 

 Tiburtius, Valerian's brother, should be opened to the truth. 

 Then he vanished. Soon afterwards Tiburtius entered the chamber, 

 and perceiving the fragrance of the celestial Roses, but not seeing 

 them, and knowing that it was not the season for flowers, he was 

 astonished, yielded to the fervid appeal of St. Cecilia, and became 

 a Christian. 



St. Elizabeth, of Hungary, is always represented with Roses 

 in her lap or hand, in allusion to a legend which relates that this 

 saint, the type of female charity, one day, in the depth of winter, 

 left her husband's castle, carrying in the skirts of her robe a supply 

 of provisions for a certain poor family ; and as she was descending 

 the frozen and slippery path, her husband, returning from the 

 chase, met her bending under the weight of her charitable burden. 

 "What dost thou here, my Elizabeth?" he asked: "let us see 

 what thou art carrying away." Then she, confused and blushing 

 to be so discovered, pressed her mantle to her bosom; but he 

 insisted, and opening her robe, he beheld only red and white Roses, 

 more beautiful and fragrant than any that grow on this earth, even 

 at summer-tide, and it was now the depth of winter ! Turning to 

 embrace his wife, he was so overawed by the supernatural glory 

 exhibited on her face, that he dared not touch her; but, bidding her 

 proceed on her mission, he took one of the Roses of Paradise from 

 her lap, and placed it reverently in his breast. 



Trithemius narrates that Albertus Magnus, in the depths of 

 winter, gave to King William on the festival of Epiphany a most 

 elegant banquet in the little garden of his Monastery. Suddenly, 

 although the monastery itself was covered with snow, the atmo- 

 sphere in the garden became balmy, the trees became covered with 

 leaves, and even produced ripe fruit — each tree after its kind, A 

 Vine sent forth a sweet odour and produced fresh grapes in abun- 

 dance, to the amazement of everyone. Flocks of birds of all kinds 

 were attracted to the spot, and, rejoicing at the summer-like 

 temperature, burst into song. At length, the wonderful entertain- 

 ment came to an end, the tables were removed, and the servants 

 all retired from the grounds. Then the singing of the birds ceased, 

 the green of the trees, shrubs, and grasses speedily faded and 

 withered, the flowers drooped and perished, the masses of snow 



