Notre Dame Scholastic, Vol. 16, No. 06

Disce qnasi semper victnms; vive qnasi eras moritnms. VOL. XVI. NOTRE DAME, INDIANA, OCTOBER 14, 1SS2. No. 6. world ? Let the numberless petty kingdoms that Sonnet to Clifford. arose on its wreck tell the tale of its downfall, and speak the mournful words—in ruins! AFTER READING HIS LINES ON MY " PARTING WITH The traveller in the historic regions of the Old ROME." World is filled \vith admiration when he beholds the ivy-clad towei's and moss-covered walls of Thy name comes o'er me through the mist of rears, numerous ancient strongholds, remnants of a by Dear Cliftbrd, sweetest of my early friends, gone grandeur which even in ruins loudly pro Hallowed with tenderest memories:—it appears claims w'hat they have been. But if it is sad to Upon my mind's horizon, which extends view those wrecks of human glor}-, how much- Back on the by-gone past, so dim and far sadder is the sight of human wrecks, and yet are Encircling my pained fantasy; for star such uncommon? Alas! no. Hath been extinguished after star—and joy Look at that chai^ming boy, the pride of his pa Hath vanished after joy—thou wast a boy, rents and the hope of his family. With care they When last I saw thee, in the prime and bloom. superintend his education and surround him "with Of beauty and of innocence—the gloom all that can inspire him with noble thoughts and Of many a chequered year hath come between lofty aspirations. He arrives at the years of man But still thy memory is dear and green: hood and goes forth into the world prepared to I loved thee, thought of thee, when, far from Home, act an honorable part; but false friends invite him T sang my farewell to the towers of Rome. to evil, and he, perhaps deeming himself strong, C. C. P. tampers with the danger, and before he is aware of it, is overcome. The downward path is seldom a slow one, and, ere long, he fills the grave of the inebriate or suicide. Ask those parents where are Rtiins. now the hopes they so fondly cherished, the plans they so carefully laid for the future of their son; " I've seen in twilight's pensive hour well mav they answer, " in niins!" The moss-clad dome and mouldering tower In awful ruins stand." —Osborne. There are other ruins which never fail to call forth the tenderest pity and deepest sympathy. \\"e In ruins! how few, but how expressive the seldom see them, not that they are rare, but because words! how much sadness and disappointment do they are hidden in the doubtful seclusion of asy they convey! how sorrowful the retrospect they lums: I speak of ruined minds. What more present, and yet they contain, as it were, a con mournful sisfht than that of a man once noted for densed history of the grandest monarchies and profound erudition and wonderful powers now be most extensive empires that ever graced the civil come as a child before the dawn of reason. Truly ized world. Those powerful nations that to-day such ruins are of all the saddest. sway the sceptre over land and sea may read in these words the pi-ophecy of their inevitable dooni. " Nor dome, nor tower in twilight shade. Nor hero fallen, nor beauteous maid, Yes, since first the prospect of perfect happiness To ruin all consigned. on earth was blighted in Eden, decay and oblivion Can with such pathos touch my breast await all, even the most perfect of the works of As on the maniac's form impressed— man. The ruins of the mind." What has become of that empire, the most mag It has been said that we are suiTOunded by ruins, nificent the world ever saw, whose banners floated and that we ourselves are only wrecks of what victorious from the icy waters of the Artie ocean God intended us to be; but the blessed promise of to the blue waves of the Mediteranean; into a srlorious hereafter, held out to those who valiantlv whose coffers were paid the tribute of every peo struggle for the truth, gives courage to the faint ple in the known world; whose armies left the hearted, and, no longer ten-ified by the appe:u-ances marks of their triumphant passage even in the of death and decay, we joyfully remember that midst of the trackless desert? Where is now that there are no ruins in Pai'adise. proud Roman empire once hailed as mistress of the M. A. H. 82 THE NOTRE DAME SCHOLASTIC, XiOngrfellow and Emerson. men of Europe whom he had met. Readers of that inagazine will readily recall their strength, Twin suns that long illumed this land of ours, vigor and grace. For many years past he was Gilding the weary paths in which we plod ; editor of the New York GrapJiic, a ;work on With rays of poesy, and from the sod - which he left his mark, as he did on cverj'thing Of cold and sordid hearts alluring flowers which he touched. Some months ago he con Of fair philosophy, have set; and o'er us lowers tracted a severe cold which developed into pleu The dark. And tliough a tearful trust in God risy and pneumonia combined. He then received Upheld us while as yet the bright ones trod the last Sacraments, and through their strength; The west of life and fashioned fairy bowers as he told us, he again rallied. Last week he From cloud-banks by the magic of a glow, went a%vay for a brief vacation, hoping that Then potent even as at highest noon. change would restore him to health and strength; The aching breast no-M every balm defies but the severe weather proved fatal to him, Of consolation;—now we fear to know and now he is, we trust in peace. And that The foiling night, and can but sit and croon: we may state the reason why Ave wish to recom " Ah! When will two such other suns arise ? " mend him warmly, afTectionately and hopefullj'^ to T. W. COAKLEY. the jjrayers and remembrance of the good and pure souls that will read these lines, we have re served for the last a brief mention of our own re {From the Catholic Revteiv.) lations with him. To know him, as wc knew Pierre Girard. him through his work, was to love him. In the service of secular journalism, we were throwii to As we go to press, a brief telegram reaches us, gether man}'^ years ago, and having much in com saying that" P. Girard is dead." To millions wdiom mon as Catholics, it is not strange that we should he instructed and edified b}'^ his writings in explana have had many common sympathies. When tion and defence of Catholic truth—all truth is The Catholic Rcviezv was started he became its Catholic and'was deeply and doubly so to him— London correspondent, writing to us under the this sad news, which pains us bej'ônd expression, signature " Pietro " for the few years he remained will bring little news or pain. Yet it tells of the in London, and on his return he continued for a passing away of a noble, Catholic gentleman, who long time, in one form or other, to instruct and in his life-time lost no opportunit}'^ in doing good, edify our readers. It did him good, as he often and often risked 'by his brilliant and timel)"^ defence told us, to have a chance to be able to tell the of Catholic principles, the favor which he might truth without being liamjDcred b}'^ the cneni}'. readily command, as a prince of journalists. His great desire was to make non-Catholics hon Among the newspaper men who make news estly uneasy about their souls. If they were once papers, either in London or in New York, he disturbed, he believed that they would, luider stood one of the verj'^ foremost in the very highest God's grace, reach the logical conclusion of their ranks of the profession, whether as editor, writer uneasiness. To do this, he sought a Catholic out or correspondent. American by birth and training, let for his thought, somewhat hampered as it al Catholic to the heart's core, his surpassing ability ways was by the limits of his secular service. opened to him almost eveiy avenue of newspaper One evening, talking over some of his really great work. Extracts from letters of his, written from journalistic achievements, Ave asked him Avhat AA'as Mexico and various cities of America to the Lon his most notable AA'ôrk, that of AAdiich, if he Avere don Mor7ilng Post, more than sixteen years ago, proud, for he Avas the humblest of men, he Avould are now going the rounds of the world, as if writ be proudest. Was it that Gladstone had been in- ten yesterday; a tribute to the permanency and in terpallated in Parliament during the Alabama con terest of ti-uth. His letters and articles in the New troversy b}'- Disraeli concerning a journalistic York World marked a new departui-e in Ameri achievement of his, previously unparalleled in can journalism, showing that American news England ? His answer Avas to shoAV us a letter of papers might be induced to admit just views of three sentences, saym^ff that " AvhercA-er the Eng- Catholic questions to the columns w^hich were lish language was spoken or read his service to freely opened to the disciples of Comte or Brigham the Catholic Chiu'ch Avas effectiA'êly felt." It Avas Young.

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