"On the
Apennines, near Viterbo, there dwelt a shepherd-boy, in the first years
of this century, whose mind had early been drawn heavenward; and, one
day, as he prayed before an image of the Madonna, he felt a vivid
intimation that he was destined to preach the Gospel under the northern
sky.
"There appeared
no means by which a Roman peasant should be turned into a missionary;
nor did the prospect open, when this youth found himself, first a lay
brother, then a Father, in the Congregation of the Passion.
"Yet, though no
external means appeared, the inward impression did not fade; on the
contrary it became more definite, and, in process of time, instead of
the dim north, England was engraved on his heart.
"And, strange
to say, as years went on, without his seeking, for he was simply under
obedience, our peasant found himself at length upon the very shore of
the stormy northern sea, whence Caesar of old looked out for a new world
to conquer; yet that he should cross the strait was still as little
likely as before.
"However, it was as likely
as that he should ever have got so near it; and he used to eye the
restless, godless waves, and wonder with himself whether the day would
ever come when he should be carried over them.
"And come it
did, not however by any determination of his own, but by the same
Providence which thirty years before had given him the anticipation of
it...The thought of England came into his ordinary prayers; and in his
last years, after a vision during Mass, as if he had been Augustine or
Mellitus, he talked of his 'sons' in England." (*)