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“I was born in the city of Stein, in the
land of Krain. My pious mother Gertrude
sang me psalms 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 hymns
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 aspirations. Afterwards
I went to Laybach as a student of theology;
and after the usual course of study, was ordained
a priest. I went forth to the care of souls; my
own soul filled with the faith, that ere long all
people would be united in one church. Yet at

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times my heart was heavy, to behold how many
nations there are who have not heard of Christ;
and how those, who are called Christians, are
divided into numberless sects, and how among
these are many who are Christians in name only.
I determined 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 retired to the
Benedictine cloister 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 benediction
sank deep into my soul. The Prince-Abbot Berthold,
of blessed memory, was then head of the
Benedictine convent. He received me kindly,
and led me to the library; where I gazed with
secret rapture on the vast folios of the Christian
Fathers, from which, as from an arsenal, I was to
draw the weapons of holy warfare. In the study
of these, the year of my noviciate passed. I

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became a 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 aged 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
oration; and, as I ascended 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 exultation;
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
melancholy. I strove in vain to drive from me
my gloomy thoughts. I could no longer study.

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I was no longer contented 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 awakened 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
fully awake; yet saw nothing but the bright light,
which disappeared, when the words had been
spoken. Still it was broad daylight in my chamber.
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 the

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original text; and went on with the Fathers, in
chronological order. Often, after the apparition of
the light, I awoke at the same hour; and though
I heard no voice and saw no light, yet was refreshed
with heavenly consolation.

“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 discourse over the body of the
last reigning, spiritual Prince Abbot in Germany.
He was a man of God, and worthy 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, dwelling in the same house, and
eating at the same table, with seventeen other professors.
Their conversation naturally suggested

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new 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 monk
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 irresistible longing 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 awe. 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

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cloister; who, indeed, had read much, and yet only
what was calculated to strengthen him in the prejudices
of his childhood; and who had entirely
neglected those studies upon which a bishop should
most rely, in order to work out the salvation of
man. I perceived at the same time, that this was
the strongest instrument for battering 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 accomplished. 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 justify such follies, without perceiving that
at the same moment he was himself lying in fatal
error. But since I have learned more thoroughly
the ways of the Lord, I am now no more astonished
at this, but pray only to Divine providence,
who so mysteriously prepares all people to be united
in one true church. I no longer believed in the

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Pope's infallibility; nay, I believed even, that, to
the great injury of humanity, he lay in fatal error.
I felt, moreover, that now the time had fully come,
when I should publicly show myself, and found
in America a parish and a school, and become the
spiritual guide of men, and the schoolmaster of
children.

“It was then, and on that account, that I wrote
in the Latin tongue my great work on Biblical
Hermeneutics. But in Germany it cannot be published.
The Austrian censor of the press cannot
find time to read it, though I think, that if I have
spent so many laborious days and sleepless nights
in writing it, this man ought likewise to find time
enough not only to read it, but to examine all the
grounds of my reasoning, and point out to me any
errors, if he can find any. Notwithstanding, the
Spirit gave me no repose, but urged me ever
mightily on to the perfection of my great work.

“One morning I sat writing, under peculiar influences
of the Spirit, upon the Confusion of Tongues,
the Division of the People, and the importance of

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the study of Comparative Philology, in reference
to their union in one church. So wrapped was I
in the thought, that I came late into my lecture-room;
and after lecture returned to my chamber,
where I wrote till the clock struck twelve. At
dinner, one of the Professors asked if any one had
seen the star, about which so much was said.
The Professor of Physics, said, that the student
Johannes Schminke had come to him in the greatest
haste, and besought him to go out and see
the wonderful star; but, being incredulous about it,
he made no haste, and, when they came into the
street, the star had disappeared. When I heard
the star spoken of, my soul was filled with rapture;
and a voice within me seemed to say, `The great
time is approaching; labor unweariedly in thy
work.' I sought out the student; and like Herod,
inquired diligently what time the star appeared.
He informed me, that, just as the clock was striking
eight, in the morning, he went out of his house
to go to the college, and saw on the square a
crowd looking at a bright star. It was the very

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hour, when I was writing alone in my chamber on
the importance of Comparative Philology in bringing
about the union of all nations. I felt, that my
hour had come. Strangely moved, I walked up
and down my chamber. The evening twilight
came on. I lighted my lamp, and drew the green
curtains before the windows, and sat down to read.
But hardly had I taken the book into my hand,
when the Spirit began to move me, and urge me
then to make my last decision and resolve. I
made a secret vow, that I would undertake the
voyage to America. Suddenly my troubled
thoughts were still. An unwonted rapture filled
my heart. I sat and read till the supper bell
rang. They were speaking at table of a red glaring
meteor, which had just been seen in the air,
southeast from Klagenfurt; and had suddenly disappeared
with a dull, hollow sound. It was the
very moment at which I had taken my final resolution
to leave my native land. Every great purpose
and event of my life, seemed heralded and
attended by divine messengers; the voices of the

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dead; the bright morning star, shining in the clear
sunshine; and the red meteor in the evening twilight.

“I now began seriously to prepare for my departure.
The chamber I occupied, had once been
the library of a Franciscan convent. Only a thick
wall separated it from the church. In this wall
was a niche, with heavy folding-doors, which had
served the Franciscans as a repository for prohibited
books. Here also I kept my papers, and my
great work on Biblical Hermeneutics. The inside
of the doors was covered with horrible caricatures
of Luther, Melancthon, Calvin, and other
great men. I used often to look at them with the
deepest melancholy, when I thought that these
great men likewise had labored upon earth, and
fought with Satan in the church. But they were
persecuted, denounced, condemned to die. So perhaps
will it be with me. I thought of this often;
and armed myself against the fear of death. I was
in constant apprehension, lest the police should
search my chamber during my absence, and, by

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examining my papers, discover my doctrine and
designs. But the Spirit said to me; `Be of good
cheer; I will so blind the eyes of thy enemies,
that it shall not once occur to them to think of
thy writings.'

“At length, after many difficulties and temptations
of the Devil, I am on my way to America.
Yesterday I took leave of my dearest friend, Gregory
Kuscher, in Hallstadt. He seemed filled with
the Spirit of God, and has wonderfully strengthened
me in my purpose. All the hosts of heaven
looked on, and were glad. The old man kissed
me at parting; and I ascended the mountain as if
angels bore me up in their arms. Near the summit,
lay a newly fallen avalanche, over which, as
yet, no footsteps had passed. This was my last
temptation. `Ha!' cried I aloud, `Satan has
prepared a snare for me; but I will conquer him
with godly weapons.' I sprang over the treacherous
snow, with greater faith than St. Peter walked
the waters of the Lake of Galilee; and came
down the valley, while the mountain peaks yet

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shone in the setting sun. God smiles upon me.
I go forth, full of hopeful courage. On Christmas
next, I shall excommunicate the Pope.”

Saying these words, he slowly and solemnly
took his leave, like one conscious of the great
events which await him, and withdrew with the
other priest into the church. Flemming could not
smile as Berkley did; for in the solitary, singular
enthusiast, who had just left them, he saw only another
melancholy victim to solitude and over-labor
of the brain; and felt how painful a thing it is, thus
to become unconsciously the alms-man of other
men's sympathies, a kind of blind beggar for the
charity of a good wish or a prayer.

The sun was now setting. Silently they floated
back to Saint Gilgen, amid the cool evening
shadows. The village clock struck nine as they
landed; and as Berkley was to depart early in the
morning, he went to bed betimes. On bidding
Flemming good night he said;

“I shall not see you in the morning; so good
bye, and God bless you. Remember my parting

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words. Never mind trifles. In this world a man
must either be anvil or hammer. Care killed a
cat!”

“I have heard you say that so often,” replied
Flemming, laughing, “that I begin to believe it is
true. But I wonder if Care shaved his left eyebrow,
after doing the deed, as the ancient Egyptians
used to do!”

“Aha! now you are sweeping cobwebs from
the sky! Good night! Good night!”

A sorrowful event happened in the neighbourhood
that night. The widow's child died suddenly.
“Woe is me!”—thus mourns the childless
mother in one of the funeral songs of Greenland;
“Woe is me, that I should gaze upon thy
place and find it vacant! In vain for thee thy
mother dries the sea-drenched garments!” Not
in these words, but in thoughts like these, did the
poor mother bewail the death of her child, thinking
mostly of the vacant place, and the daily cares
and solicitudes of maternal love. Flemming saw
a light in her chamber, and shadows moving to

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and fro, as he stood by the window, gazing into
the starry, silent sky. But he little thought of the
awful domestic tragedy, which was even then enacted
behind those thin curtains!

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