The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1877-07-01

adorned the windows, and the gay Gags and
Wondered what the world would say to such
la living RECITATION OF one OF the blsckest lies
of the period. He forgot. poor fellow, that
the world has habit of denying everything
t does not choose to believe and Ignoring
everything 1t does not choose to see.
On reaching the barracks q letter was put
into his hand from Father Donovan that had
arrived shortly after his departure with the
troops. He opened it, aud with BOD of emo
tions far essier to imagine than to describe,
read the account of Maude Neville's CONVEX
sion. His fret impnlse was to write to her
and express bis delight at the news; but
Very little reflection made him alter HE mind,
end he sent her instead message Of warm
and kind cougrstulstion through the priest.
The next day he was formally enrolled In
the PapAi Zouaves, aud with all the ardor of
his Irish temperament threw himself into the
duties of his new profession. How he pro-
Creased in them may be gathered from letter
shat he wrote three months later to Father
Donovan. 1t commenced with o glowing and
elaborate description of the ceremonies OF
Holy week, mingled with the tenderest ex-
lion for the Holy Father, to whom he had just
been presented. Then followed . dissertation
on camp life, barrack life, and Zouave life in
general. After which it thus continued: You
ask me If am happy. How we'll / can appre-
oiate the deep and kindly interest that
prompts the questionl Know then, 0 best OF
friends and must revered of fathers, am. As
said once before, .'ont OF the bitter has come
forth the sweet :" for the path chose in the
bitterness of trial and disappointment has led
me TO o calmness and contentment / shall try
in vain to describe. Then, again, greatly as
all must deplore toe late war-both for the
sake of the wretched invaders and our
people, many of whom have suffered great
iS, both in the loss OF friends and property
for myself individually it has been a blessing
in disguise. For, with o rough but friendly
hand, il has reused me from sickly sentimen-
tai sbit of dreaming, which now see clearly
bias been to great extent my bane all my life
hay naa1 int NrFNua
lately and have made grand discoveries
among other things, l have been startled to
find how very little real good We dresmers eff
feet, and how very much time We lose. We
waste it in the morning of life, among the
blossoms of Future that may be pipped in
the bud we waste it in the evening, over the
dead leaves of Past that never can be recall
ed. My God, on what q narrow fsthmus be.
tween the Past and Future our real life lies
What an atom of Eternity is that link of time
we call the Present! Yet it ia all we ever have
in hand to give to Gods eternal glory, to our
own eternal gain. What q blignted, broken
life mine might have been if the Hand of God
Himself had not prevented me from following
the bent of my own morbid inclination! There
was q time when, if had been circumstance
"a now am, should have wandered away
evening after evening to the most dismal ruin
could have found in all Rome. There l should
have seated myself on a fragment of stone and
the dismal wintry sky, thinking OF Maude Ne
vile until the world around me had grown in.
to o dreary blank. Or else, perhaps, should
have buried my face in my hands and fancied
I heard her name in the dreary rustic Of
the leaves and the monotonous signing of the
wind, and should have felt the most enerva
ting melancholy steal over every nerve with 6
| sort of dismal satisfaction. l should have
| seen my own life in every ruiped arch, my OWL
| frustrated hopes in every shattered column
| Well 1 am not ashamed to say that have no
| forgotten Maude Neville, and never shall.
remem Der her at the holy Mass, in holy Com
munion, and in my prayers, not dreams, or
| spots sanctihed by miracles and hallowed b.
| martyrdoms. But-thauks bs to Godl-m7
| life is neither Olighted nor broken one. h
has changed the current Of the stream; bu
| the spring is strong ana vigorous rs ever
| aud trust He will direct it, in spite f all it
| wanderngs and meanderlpgs, To the grea
ocean His 1--we.
| . Nv life il "a very busy one; for, in addition
to my daily duties am studying Italian hard
| aud every day visit come spot or other sscset
for its Cnristian memories or Interesting for II
classical associations, often both. / spend
great deal OF my time in sket ching aud copy
I'M frescoes, some Of which intend 90 noun
and send you. The weather begins to improve
aud we have already planned many an excul
|, eiOu to objects of interest in the country. Ho'
l wish you were here to act as onr guide owe
, ground familiar to you'll 1t is sad to b
, parted from everybody dear to me but say
, from the bottom of my heart, Gods will b
, done, He alone knows how often think G
the " old country" and all have left benin
, me, even down TO my poor old Bat. Bat th
4
\ the peacefulness of the present; aud you ma
tell all Who care to hear of him or his fortune
that Richard O'Aears is happy man.
a He wrote the truth; aud for three brigh
t years this happiness continued to gild lii
. that seemed 80 him succession of gloriou
. festivals celebrated on the most favored ape
y of earth. Yet be became no gloomy ascetic
9 for Notwithstanding his active duties an
Q love of study, he found plenty of leisure
q devote to his companions and their pursuit.
o He became q general favorite, for where almoI
d all we're good, he was one of the best aud
v soon learned TO use the Influence be had game
q the cause of reotitude aud honor.
o One thing. and one thing only. ever ruM'
10 the pIacidity of his life, and that was new
V from home. Aud yet his correspondents we
t only two-Father DoEovan and his nephe
Fred, the Ballycross doctor. Between the tv
little remained untold, for many q slight inc
dent ia the village that the prudence of Il
O. ono would have suppressed, for fear of givir
0. unue cessary pain, the volatile pen of the 9th
N described often in glowing language. VIII
o. rainbowy things these lettere were, wi
o births, deaths and marriages, sorrow aud jo
Q. snnahi ne and shadow checkering The r page