138 



THE LION AND THE SAINT 



If you should have the opportunity of seeing any large 

 picture gallery abroad, or our own National Gallery in 

 London, you will be very likely to corne across some pic- 

 ture by one or other ' old master ' representing an old 

 man, with a long beard, sometimes reading or writing in 

 a study, sometimes kneeling in a bare desert-place ; but 

 wherever he may be, or whatever he may be doing, there 

 is almost always a lion with him. 



The old man with the beard is St. Jerome, who lived 

 fifteen hundred years ago, and I want now to tell you why 

 a lion generally appears in any picture of him. 



At one time of his life, St. Jerome lived in a monas- 

 tery he had founded at Bethlehem. One day he and 

 some of his monks were sitting to enjoy the cool of the 

 evening at the gate of the monastery when a big lion 

 suddenly appeared walking up to them. The monks 

 were horribly frightened, and scampered off as fast as they 

 could to take refuge indoors ; but St. Jerome had noticed 

 that as the lion walked he limped as though in pain, and 

 the Saint, who always tried to help those in trouble, waited 

 to see what he could do for the poor animal. 



The lion came near, and when he was quite close he 

 held up one paw and looked plaintively at the men. 



St. Jerome fearlessly took the paw on his lap, and, on 

 examining it, found a large thorn, which he pulled out, 

 binding up the injured limb. The wound was rather a 

 bad one, but St. Jerome kept the lion with him and nursed 

 him carefully till he was qxute weU again. 



