Bellarmine first saw Rome on the 20th of September, 1560. His cousin entered the city with him, but died four years afterwards in the College of Loreto. Going directly to the House of Jesus, Robert found a cordial welcome, such as might well be given to the representative of a Papal family. Enraptured with the attainment of the object so long coveted, he almost fancied himself numbered with the inhabitants of heaven. To his mind Ignacio the founder was perfect above all that ever had been mortal; and his ambition, while treading on the same ground, and living within the walls that had resounded with his voice, was to be more like Ignacio, than like himself. On the very day of entrance he implored permission to take the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty, a threefold cord, not easily to be broken, whereby he might bind himself most closely to Christ and to His

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Ten days were spent in "the retreat," meditating, according to custom, on themes prescribed, exercising himself in that submission of the thoughts to the guidance of superiors, and that abnegation of the will in abandoning the thoughts to the direction of another mind, which is at once the weakness and the strength of Jesuitism. There they taught him his soul was to be nourished, a hidden life revived, and his heart cleansed from all the stains it had contracted since the day of baptism. Then he took the habit of the order, and entered on the duties of the house. Those duties were to exercise him in humility; and accordingly the scion of the Bellarmini and Cervini went into the kitchen, officiated in the scullery, scoured the kettles, washed the dishes, cleansed the tables, and chopped wood. In the refectory, too, he served up the dinner. In the dormitory he made the beds. All over the house he swept the floors. Services beneath enumeration he performed, and all with exquisite self-satisfaction. "For, as a prudent novice, he considered this to be an opportunity of the highest value, that the tower of perfection might be erected on the foundation of humility."

HEBREW SALUTATIONS AND BLESSINGS.

THE Philhebraist, who can relish the beauty of a Hebrew sentence, and the mere Englishman, who must be satisfied with enjoying the beauty of a sentiment in his own good Saxon, agree to admire those vestiges of sacred excellence that still abound in the language of the Jew. For the satisfaction of both, we present the readers of the "Instructer" with a few forms of Hebrew salutation. And as some of them are learning Hebrew, or may intend to learn it, the sentences themselves shall be given.

When one is going to set out on a journey, his friend will say to him, May God (THE NAME) prosper

thy way. The traveller answers,

blessed.

The morning salutation is,

Chaldee,

Mayest thou be

Good morning. To this the answer is merely repetition of the sentence; or, more at length, it may be said, Mornings enough, and evenings many.

An evening salutation is, na

Mayest thou pass the night well. To which comes the warm response, Ypn Mayest thou awake with mercies.

To a newly-married couple it is said, briefly,

Good fortune; and the acknowledgment is equally brief, but quite as good, Mayest thou be blessed.

With less dignity, yet with a homely good-nature, the Jew would say to one who sneezes, N

Medicine, or else,

sneezer can make And this is vastly to say Jesus, when

Os Health. The response (when the it) is merely a repetition of the same. better than a common custom in Spain, one is thus affected, and to repeat the sacred name at every sternutation. The Jew, unlike the Romanist, is careful not to take the name of the Lord his God in vain.

Mayest thou be לשנה טובה תכתב,On New Year's day

written for a good year; which receives the answer, And also thou.

A guest is welcomed with, 77 Blessed is he that cometh; and in cordial reciprocation, 7 Blessed be he that is found, rewards the host.

As they draw to the hospitable board, they say,

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Blessed be they who sit down; and the master of the house, accepting the implied compliment together with the benediction, answers, Blessed be he that cometh.

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A moral lesson is recited when one puts on a new garment, addressed to the one cast off,

in the words,

Thou art worn out, and art renewed.

When a Jew sees another making the quickest of his way, he drops him a good word, With thy rejoicing,— May this business be so ended," being understood. The winged word that this brings back is, To happy life—“ I commend thee," he would have said; but there was no time to prolong the salutation.

In olden time, the Rabbi, when present at an entertainment, was honoured with such a sentence as this:

Wine and life to the mouth of the חמרא וחיי לפום דרבנן

חיי וחמרא לפום דרבנן ולפום דתלמידיהון,sented, answers

Rabbin. The Rabbi, respectfully taking the cup that is pre

Life and wine to the mouth of the Rabbin, and to the mouth of their disciples.

When an ancient blesses a child, placing his hand upon the head, if it be a boy, he pronounces the words,

Ephraim and as Manasseh. Or, if it be a girl, the bene

May the Lord make thee as ישימך אלהים כאפרים ומנשה

May the Lord make ישימך אלהים כשרה וכרבקה,diction is

ברוך שכחו וגבורתו ,At the sound of thunder, they say

thee like Sarah and Rebecca. This blessing is received in reverential silence.

by Blessed be He of whose power and of whose majesty the world is full. And at the sight of lightning,

Before taking food, the master of the family says:

.Blessed be He that doeth what is done ברוך עושה מעשה

ברוך אתה יהוה אלהינו מלך העולם המוציא לחם מן הארץ

Blessed be Thou, O Lord our God, King of the world, who bringest bread out of the earth. And after the meal is ended,

ברוך הוא שאכלנו משלו : thanksgiving is made thus Blessed be He of ובטובו חיינו ברוך הוא וברוך שמו

whose bounty we have eaten, and by whose goodness we live. Blessed be He, and blessed be His name. Sometimes

another form is pronounced in Chaldee, a language which the learned freely intermingle with the Hebrew; just as those of us who delight in the display of any learning we may have, in reality or in imagination, sport Latin for the admiration of our compeers.

THE MOTHER'S PARTING KISS.

"I WAS but five years old when my mother died; but her image is as distinct to my recollection, now that twelve years have elapsed, as it was at the time of her death. I remember her as a pale, beautiful, gentle being, with a sweet smile, and a voice that was soft and cheerful when she praised me; and when I erred, for I was a wild, thoughtless child, there was a trembling mildness about it, that always went to my little heart. And then she was so kind, so patient: methinks I can now see her large blue eyes moist with sorrow, because of my childish waywardness, and hear her repeat, 'My child, how can you grieve me so?' I recollect she had for a long time been pale and feeble, and that sometimes there would come a bright spot on her cheek, which made her look so lovely, that I thought she must be well. But then she sometimes spoke of dying, and pressed me to her bosom, and told me to be good when she was gone, and to love my father a great deal, and be kind to him, for he would have no one else to love.' I recollect she was very sick all day, and my little hobby-horse and whip were laid aside, and I tried to be very quiet. I did not see her for the whole day, and it seemed very long. At night they told me mother was too sick to kiss me, as she always used to do before I went to bed, and I must go without it. But I could not. I stole into the room, and laying my lips close to hers, whispered, 'Mother, mother, won't you kiss me?' Her lips were very cold; and when she put her arm around me, laid my head upon her bosom, and one hand upon my cheek, I felt a cold shuddering creep all over me. My father carried me from the room, but he could not speak. After they put me in bed, I lay a long while thinking. I feared my mother would indeed die; for her cheek felt as cold as my little sister's did when she died, and they laid her in the

ground. But the impressions of mortality are always indistinct in childhood, and I soon fell asleep. In the morning I hastened to my mother's room. A white napkin covered her face. I removed it: it was just as I feared. Her eyes were closed, her cheek was cold and hard, and only the lovely expression that always rested upon her lips remained. In an instant all the little faults for which she had so often reproved me, rushed upon my mind. I longed to tell her how good I would always be, if she would remain with me. She was buried; but my remembrance of the funeral is indistinct. I only retain the impressions which her precepts and example left upon my mind. I was a passionate, headstrong boy; but I never yielded to this turn of my disposition, without fancying I saw her mild, tearful eye fixed upon me, just as she used to do in life. And then, when I succeeded in overcoming it, her sweet smile of approbation beamed upon me, and I was happy. My whole character underwent a change, even from the moment of her death. Her spirit was for ever with me, strengthening my good resolutions, and weakening my propensity to evil. I felt that it would grieve her gentle spirit to see me err; and I could not, would not do it. I was the child of her affection. I knew she had prayed and wept over me, and that, even on the threshold of eternity, her affection for me had caused her gentle spirit to linger, that she might pray for me once more. I resolved to become all that she could desire. This resolution I have never forgotten. It helped me to subdue the waywardness of childhood, protected me through the temptations of youth, and will comfort and support me through the busier scenes of manhood. Whatever there is that is estimable in my character, I owe to the impressions of goodness made upon my infant mind by the exemplary conduct and faithful instructions of my excellent mother."

THE REAL ORIGIN OF LITTLE FAULTS.

SOME faults and some sins may seem to us much less than others do, but they all spring from the same evil, the fallen nature of man. In our eyes, a murderer is far more hateful