Such tasks are not for sleepy hollows, and for teachers hardly taught.
In such a fight as Rome
is waging on this coast, the camp must be a college and the captains must be learned men.
So far the Jesuit
fathers see their way. In taking such a line, how far are they returning to the ground on which the brethren of St. Francis
staked and lost their cause?
We pace the Franciscan garden, the old fountain still playing, the old olive trees bearing fruit.
This garden is an idyl.
Note how homely yet pictorial is that bit of wall on which the winter roses blush and burn, how daintily these screens and trellises bear the fruit, how grave and oriental rise yon cypresses and palms!
Is there not something in this hush and shade which carries you in fancy to yet holier spots of earth?
Glancing from the Spanish
fountain to the Syrian palms, I ask the Jesuit
father whether it is certain that their work is done.
“ Yes; that which they could do best is done.”
“Your company will not try to carry on their work?
“ Not here and now. The time for such a course is past.
Lessons in farming and in raising stock ”