ch Abraham saw and whose banks were hallowed by
the footsteps of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Remember me especially in
all your prayers on these great festivals. Offer up a Mass for my
special intention on each of them."

The excursion to Nubia and back did him so much good physically, and
left his mind with a peace which seemed so settled, that for a time
he had strong hopes of recovery; but he was soon undeceived.

On the 15th of April Father Hecker left Cairo for Jerusalem, and
spent some weeks in the Holy Land, continuing to enjoy an interval of
spiritual relief. He writes:

"In reciting the Gloria and the Credo, after having been in the
localities where the great mysteries which they express took place,
one is impressed in a wonderful manner with their actuality. The
truths of our holy faith seem to saturate one's blood, enter into
one's flesh, and penetrate even to the marrow of one's bones."

The first greeting which he sent from the holy places was a letter to
his mother, full of expressions of the most tender affection and
gratitude, as well as of ardent religious emotions produced by moving
among the scenes of our Lord's life. He enclosed a little bunch of
wild flowers plucked from Mount Sion. He soon returned to Europe to
escape the hot summer of Palestine, and began his round of visits to
health resorts, shrines, and occasionally to a friend of more than
usual attraction. His brother John died about this time, and this
news drew from him a letter of encouragement and condolence to their
mother. To George Hecker and his wife he wrote often, his letters
being full of affection, of entire submission to the Divine Will, and
of religious sentiments.

The following may be of interest as indicating the return of his
disconsolate frame of mind:

"I have taken to writing fables. Here is one: Once upon a time a bird
was caught in a snare. The more it struggled to free itself, the more
it got entangled. Exhausted, it resolved to wait with the vain hope
that the fowler, when he came, would set it at liberty. His
appearance, however, was not the signal for its restoration to
smiling fields and fond companions, but the forerunner of death at
his hands. Foolish bird! why did you go into the snare? Poor thing;
it could not find food anywhere, and it was famishing with hunger;
the seed was so attractive, and he who had baited the trap knew it
full well, and that the bird could not resist its appetite. The
fowler is our