"I was born in the city of Stein, in the land of Krain. My pious¹ mother Gertrude sang me psalms² and spiritual songs in childhood; and often, when I awoke in the night, I saw her still sitting, patiently at her work by the stove, and heard her singing those hymns³ of heaven, or praying in the midnight darkness when her work was done. It was for me she prayed. Thus, from my earliest childhood, I breathed the breath of pious aspirations⁴. Afterwards I went to Laybach as a student of theology; and after the usual course of study, was ordained⁵ a priest. I went forth⁶ to the care of souls; my own soul filled with the faith, that ere long all people would be united in one church. Yet attimes my heart was heavy, to behold⁷ how many nations there are who have not heard of Christ; and how those, who are called Christians⁹, are divided into numberless sects¹⁰, and how among these are many who are Christians in name only. I determined¹¹ to devote myself to the great work of the one church universal; and for this purpose, to give myself wholly up to the study of the Evangelists and the Fathers. I retired¹² to the Benedictine cloister¹³ of Saint Paul in the valley of Lavant. The father-confessor in the nunnery of Laak, where I then lived, strengthened me in this resolve. I had long walked with this angel of God in a human form, and his parting benediction¹⁴ sank deep into my soul. The Prince-Abbot Berthold, of blessed memory, was then head of the Benedictine convent. He received me kindly¹⁵, and led me to the library; where I gazed with secret rapture¹⁶ on the vast folios of the Christian⁸ Fathers, from which, as from an arsenal¹⁷, I was to draw the weapons of holy warfare¹⁸. In the study of these, the year of my noviciate passed. I becamea Franciscan friar; and took the name of Brother Bernardus. Yet my course of life remained unchanged. I seldom left the cloister; but sat in my cell, and pored over those tomes of holy wisdom. About this time the aged¹⁹ confessor in Laak departed this life. His death was made known to me in a dream. It must have been after midnight, when I thought that I came into the church, which was brilliantly lighted up. The dead body of the venerable saint was brought in, attended by a great crowd. It seemed to me, that I must go up into the pulpit and pronounce his funeral oration²⁰; and, as I ascended²¹ the stairs, the words of my text came into my mind; 'Blessed in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.' My funeral sermon ended in a strain of exultation²²; and I awoke with 'Amen!' upon my lips. A few days afterwards, I heard that on that night the old man died. After this event I became restless and melancholy²³. I strove in vain to drive from me my gloomy thoughts. I could no longer study. I was no longer contented²⁴ in the cloister. I even thought of leaving it.  
"One night I had gone to bed early, according to my custom, and had fallen asleep. Suddenly I was awakened²⁵ by a bright and wonderful light, which shone all about me, and filled me with heavenly rapture. Shortly after I heard a voice, which pronounced distinctly these words, in the Sclavonian tongue; 'Remain in the cloister!' It was the voice of my departed mother. I was fully²⁶ awake; yet saw nothing but the bright light, which disappeared, when the words had been spoken. Still it was broad daylight in my chamber²⁷. I thought I had slept beyond my usual hour. I looked at my watch. It was just one o'clock after midnight. Suddenly the daylight vanished, and it was dark. In the morning I arose, as if new-born, through the wonderful light, and the words of my mother's voice. It was no dream. I knew it was the will of God that I should stay; and I could again give myself up to quiet study. I read the whole Bible through once more in theoriginal text; and went on with the Fathers, in chronological²⁸ order. Often, after the apparition²⁹ of the light, I awoke at the same hour; and though I heard no voice and saw no light, yet was refreshed with heavenly consolation³⁰.
 
"Not long after this an important event happened in the cloister. In the absence of the deacon of the Abbey, I was to preach the Thanksgiving sermon of Harvest-home. During the week the Prince-Abbot Berthold gave up the ghost; and my sermon became at once a Thanks-giving and Funeral Sermon. Perhaps it may not be unworthy of notice, that I was thus called to pronounce the burial discourse³² over the body of the last reigning³³, spiritual Prince Abbot in Germany. He was a man of God, and worthy³¹ of this honor.
 
"One year after this event, I was appointed Professor of Biblical Hermeneutics in Klagenfurt, and left the Abbey forever. In Klagenfurt I remained ten years, dwelling³⁴ in the same house, and eating at the same table, with seventeen other professors. Their conversation naturally suggestednew topics of study, and brought to my notice books, which I had never before seen. One day I heard at table, that Maurus Cappellari, a monk³⁵ of Camaldoli, had been elected Pope, under the name of Gregory Sixteenth. He was spoken of as a very learned man, who had written many books. At this time I was a firm believer in the Pope's infallibility; and when I heard these books mentioned, there arose in me an irresistible³⁶ longing³⁷ to read them. I inquired for them; but they were nowhere to be had. At length I heard, that his most important work, The Triumph of the Holy See, and of the Church, had been translated into German and published in Augsburg. Ere long the precious volume was in my hands. I began to read it with the profoundest awe³⁸. The farther I read, the more my wonder grew. The subject was of the deepest interest to me. I could not lay the book out of my hand, till I had read it through with the closest attention. Now at length my eyes were opened. I saw before me a monk, who had been educated in an Italian cloister; who, indeed, had read much, and yet only what was calculated to strengthen him in the prejudices of his childhood; and who had entirely³⁹ neglected those studies upon which a bishop⁴⁰ should most rely, in order to work out the salvation⁴¹ of man. I perceived at the same time, that this was the strongest instrument for battering⁴² down the walls, which separate Christian from Christian. I saw, though as yet dimly, the way in which the union of Christians in the one true church was to be accomplished⁴³. I knew not whether to be most astonished at my own blindness, that, in all my previous studies, I had not perceived, what the reading of this single book made manifest to me; or at the blindness of the Pope, who had undertaken to justify⁴⁴ such follies⁴⁵, without perceiving that at the sa............