of no for probably you are ignorant that i am a catholic but i pray you never say again that our priests are or fools till you have proved the justice of your charge it is my dearest hope to be admitted to the holy office i vowed to my life to it as i knelt by my mother s death bed i was bred up in the church of which both my parents were members till i was fourteen years of age at this time the my poor became so ill that he was advised to winter in my mother of course accompanied him i need not dwell upon the sad history he rapidly declined and it was in these dark hours that my mother s mind was called as she saw him on whom she had rested passing in weakness away to turn for support to the friend who never and to hope for in heavenly homes with the beloved one whom affection could not retain on earth she sought relief in the services of the nearest church the touching of these holy rites deeply affected her and in her loneliness she appealed to the sympathy of the he them and before the last change came my mother had the divine joy of receiving together with my father the of the of seeing the extreme administered to him in his agony and after his spirit had departed of having the body buried in consecrated ground and of joining in sublime and masses for his eternal peace you will believe me when i say she returned home by her sorrows i was her only child and we became inseparable companions she directed my studies she guided my prayers she made me her in her works of benevolence and heaven forgive me if as i looked up in her sweet face becoming ever more spiritual as it day by day grew thinner and paler and into those eyes so calmly bright as if the light of another ufe beamed through them and listened to her tones so musical and mild that my melted � heaven foi ve me if i worshipped her my mother must ever be to me a saint she as her dying prayed that i might become an honored minister of god in a few years heaven willing i shall be a priest alas how unworthy a one in contrast with the blessed thousands who through centuries have offered the perfect sacrifice constant there speaks at least a good son you will hear the journal now will you not the words of one so fervent even if enforce attention like sweet harmony vol i no i the rome this morning and am now quietly established at the college the huge building with its massive stones projecting and heavy carved windows looked gloomy as i entered and as our footsteps echoed through the silent court and long passages the thought me that so many years were to be passed beneath these solemn shades but the paternal welcome of father b and the courteous of my fellow students quite cheered my spirits and now that i have once joined in worship in our beautiful little chapel and have arranged my apartment i feel at home i like this high ceiling this deep window with its diamond shaped panes and these dark with age in the sacred recess i have placed my s agony in the s placid face smiles over my table my mother s copy of a is lying by my side and more than all dearest mother thy gentle look me from this miniature well may i feel happy in striving to fulfil your dying wish ad te after walked with a friend to the the sun was setting as we climbed the long ascent of steps and we reached the summit just in time to see the golden rim disappear behind the ridge on the west of the city where umbrella pines stood strongly marked against the sky a haze of glory such as so often dipped his brush in hung for a moment like a brilliant veil over the wilderness of roofs beneath us but as the shadows spread the scene grew clearer and i took my first survey of the holy city in front at the distance of a mile swelled sublime the dark dome of st peter s by the stretching wings of the nearer rose the round tower of st and winding at its foot the was revealed by its reflection of the still bright heaven while to the left stood the columns of and of with the bronze on its top and the eye rested on the low arched roof of the it was no dream i a child from a far land was really taken home to the bosom of the mighty mother who has fed the world with her and learning and art beneath that soaring dome so gracefully light yet so firm were at this moment the si burning the golden lamps around the tomb of st peter within those very walls had been held for centuries the sacred whose the holy spirit to guide under these very roofs which i now looked upon had been trained the hosts of martyr who have carried the cross over burning deserts and and the farthest ocean around me on every side was a vast multitude who had forsaken the world and its for the purity and of a religious life lights on a thousand clouds of incense from swinging of countless and murmured prayers of crowds of priests the very air i was in rome not imperial rome � that blood stained desert � but christian rome with truth the eagle has fallen before the cross the palaces of have the dust of centuries has buried the over which rolled the cars of cruel armies nature s kind have the sands of the from the ruins of barbarous pomp have 