LETTER FROM ROME. brave and determined. Such a sight in such a place could not fail to awaken the profoundest interest. It was an evening never to be forgotten. It gave to St. Peter's and the Vatican associations which intensify all their previous history for us. After the close of the school, in the quiet of the late evening, we drove to the Colosseum. The moon was at its full, and the night almost without a cloud. It was one of those rare Italian nights so soft and beautiful that nature seemed to have grown unusually indulgent, and lavish of her favours. I will not attempt to describe the grand old ruin, nor the emotions with which we were thrilled as we stood in the arena and looked up over the crumbling walls fantastically illuminated by the clear moonlight. There had sat the power and beauty of imperial Rome. These walls had echoed to the shouts of her populace, and the stern mandates of her Cæsars. This arena had been stained with the blood, not only of wild beasts and gladiators trained for fight, but of Christian martyrs who sealed their faith in sacrifice. As we stood there contrasting that stern and bloody past, with the peaceful present, some one struck up, "All hail the power of Jesus' name," and immediately those circling walls echoed the triumphant strain, borne out on the still evening air by twenty voices keyed to an unwonted inspiration. It was an inspiration like this which called forth some years ago, on this very spot, a pledge of ten thousand Bibles for free distribution in Italy. Rome is an inexhaustible mine of interest to every classical student. To wander about the Forum, treading the very paving stones of the via Sacra, to walk through the palaces of the Cæsars on the Palatine, and to traverse the vaulted chambers of the Golden House of Nero, marvellously narrows the chasm of two thousand years, and one seems to live in the old Roman days, and to feel the kindling of the old Roman spirit. We made a pleasant excursion one day out along the via Appia to the "Three Taverns" where the brethren met Paul, or rather, where a part of them met him, for some went twenty-two miles further, another day's journey to Appii Forum. Passing out of the city under the arch of Drusus, beneath which the apostle must have passed, we soon came in sight of the ancient aqueducts, still a marvel of engineering, and passed many celebrated tombs, among which are those of the Curatii and of the Horatii, the story of whose conflict and death is familar to the school boy. The summit of a tomb, not far from these, is occupied by a farmhouse, the tomb giving it sufficient elevation to ensure the inmates of the LEARNING AND LOVING. house against the malaria of the campagna, which the peasants say never rises more that ten feet. The site of the "Three Taverns" is at the beginning of the ninth mile, and is occupied at present by the broken columns of an ancient temple, and what appears to be the ruins of a tomb. Here we left the via Appia, and turned toward the Alban Hills, passing vineyards whose fruit was a temptation to break the eighth commandment. From a point near the site of Cicero's Tusculan villa a charming view of Rome and its environs is afforded. In front stretches the broad campagna. To the extreme right rises Mt. Soracte, while to the left sparkles the waters of the Mediterranean. In the centre of this setting lies the "Eternal City." As I beheld this scene lighted up with the rays of the setting sun, which seemed like a huge globe of fire sinking into a sea of gold, and dreamed over the centuries which brought decline both to imperial and papal Rome, I seemed to see a new Rome rising above their ruins, grander and more beautiful than either, and which shall still be young when the stones of the Colosseum shall have crumbled into dust, and when the dome of St. Peter's shall have ceased to cover the senseless mummeries of superstition. When this Rome shall appear it will be Christian. LEARNING AND LOVING. THE sentiment that a few years ago, more than to-day, prevailed among men, that "learning" spoiled women for loving," could hardly have been the result of an acquaintance with the history of the learned women of the past. Veronica Gambara, most learned and wise, was as loving and devoted as the historic Dido. She was of a noble birth, and from a child displayed a surprising aptitude for study. At ten years of age she was writing Latin and Greek sonnets. Of a serious temperament, her tastes led her to the study of sacred literature, and she became one of the most learned theologians in Italy, and was given the title of doctor. She chose for her husband Gilbert of Correggio, chief of that illustrious house, and was married to him in 1508, when in her twenty-fourth year. At the end of two years she was the mother of two sons. She was tenderly loved of her husband, and, as he had remarkably beautiful eyes, she addressed to those "shining orbs" some of her most exquisite sonnets. This husband, so well beloved, died ten years after marriage, and Veronica, although still young, consecrated herself to eternal widowhood. During the remainder of her life she had her apartments draped in black, was THE MIRACLE. drawn about by the blackest of horses, and wore always the garb of deep widowhood. Heiress to all her husband's fortune, she superintended the education of her sons, one of whom rose to high military rank, while the other became a cardinal. She continued her own studies the same as in her youth, cultivating her love of poetry and literature. Personally, she was not beautiful, but she had in conversation a rare charm that no one could resist, even when discoursing of learned things. A collection of her letters and poems was published at Brescia in 1759. THE MIRACLE. (Translated from the German.) "A ONE day in the spring, the young man Solomon was sitting under the palm trees in the garden of his father the king, and was looking down before him in deep thought. Presently, Nathan, his teacher, came to him and said: "What are you thinking about so earnestly under the palm trees?" The young man raised his head and replied: "Nathan, I fain would see a miracle." The prophet smiled and said: "A wish which I also had in my early years.' "And was it granted to you?" eagerly asked the king's son. man of God," continued Nathan, "came to me and brought a seed of a pomegranate in his hand. Behold, said he, 'what will come from this seed.' Then he made an opening in the earth with his finger and laid the seed in it and covered it. As soon as he had taken his hand away, the clods parted asunder, and I saw two little blades come forth. Hardly, however, had I seen them, when the two little blades closed themselves upon one another, and there became a round stem enveloped in a rind, and the stem became perceptibly higher and thicker. Then the man of God said to me: Take notice.' And while I looked on, seven branches spread themselves out from the stem, like the seven arms to the candlestick of the altar. I was astonished, but the man of God beckoned and commanded me to remain still and look on. 'Behold,' said he, soon a new creation will begin.' Then he took some water in the hollow of his hand from a little brook that flowed by, and sprinkled the branches three times, and, behold, the branches all hung full of green leaves, so that a cool shade envelopes us, mingled with pleasant odours. Whence,' cried I, 'this fragrance and the refreshing shade?' 'Do you not see the purple coloured flowers?' said the man of God, how they shoot out from the green leaves and hang down in clusters?' WHAT TO TEACH THE BOYS. "I was going to speak, but a soft wind swept into the leaves and strewed the flowers round about us, as when the snow drops down from the clouds. 66 Hardly had the flowers fallen, when there hung down among the leaves the red pomegranates, like the almonds on Aaron's rod. Then the man of God left me in deep thought." Here Nathan ended. Then Solomon hastily asked: "Where is he? What is the name of the godly man? Is he still living?" Then Nathan replied: "Son of David, I have related to you a dream vision." When Solomon heard these words he was troubled in his heart and said: "What made you deceive me so?" But Nathan replied: "I did not deceive you, son of Jesse. Behold in the garden of your father you may see all just as I told it to you. Does not the same thing happen on every pomegranate tree and other trees?" "Yes," said Solomon, "but imperceptibly and in a longer time." Then Nathan answered: "Is it, therefore, less a divine work, because it happens unobserved and in silence? I should think it would therefore be the more divine." "First recognize nature," said he, "and then her work. Then you will easily believe on a higher plane and not be longing after miracles wrought by human hand." WHAT TO TEACH THE BOYS. A PHILOSOPHER has said that true education for boys is to "teach them what they ought to know when they become men." What is it they ought to know, then? 1. To be true-to be genuine. No education is worth anything that does not include this. A man had better not know how to read he had better never learn a letter in the alphabet and be true and genuine in intention and in action, rather than, being learned in all sciences and in all languages, to be, at the same time, false in heart and counterfeit in life. Above all things teach the boys that TRUTH is more than riches, more than culture, more than any earthly power or position. 2. To be pure in thought, language and life-pure in mind and in body. An impure man, young or old, poisoning the society where he moves, with smutty stories and impure examples, is a moral ulcer, a plague spot, a leper who ought to be treated as were the lepers of old, who were banished from society and compelled to cry unclean, as a warning to save others from the pestilence. POETRY. 3. To be unselfish. To care for the feelings and comfort of others. To be polite. To be just in all dealings with others. To be generous, noble, and manly. This will include a genuine reverence for the aged and things sacred. hood. 4. To be self-reliant, and self-helpful, even from early childTo be industrious always, and self-supporting at the earliest proper age. Teach them that all honest work is honourable, and that an idle, useless life of dependence on others is disgraceful. When a boy has learned these four things; when he has made these ideas a part of his being; however young he may be, however poor, however rich, he has learned some of the most important things he ought to know when he becomes a man. With these four properly mastered, it will be easy to find all the rest. Poetry. MY LITTLE BROTHER. Or all the beautiful pictures That seemeth best of all; That sprinkle the valley below; Not for the milk-white lilies, That lean from the fragrant hedge, Coquetting all day with the sunbeams, And stealing their golden edge; Not for the vines on the upland, Where the bright red berries rest; Nor the pinks, nor the pale sweet cowslip, It seemeth to me the best. I once had a little brother With eyes that were dark and deep- Light as the down of the thistle, mers The summers of long ago; I made for my little brother A bed of the yellow leaves. Sweetly his pale arms folded My neck in meek embrace, Lodged in the tree-tops bright, That hang on memory's wall, -Alice Carey. |