Susa, opens itself between hills; and directly through the middle of the plain, winds the Po, eastward towards the Adriatic Sea, receiving on its course, a number of rivers and streams. An elderly monk was sitting in the Capuchin convent, by an open window, reading; the sun shone upon the handsome white-haired head, producing a peaceful picture.
“I sometimes look upon these monks with a feeling akin to envy,” said M. Meille, with his melodious Italian voice, and melancholy expression—“What an enjoyment to be able thus to devote themselves at ease to quiet studies!”
But the life of the Christian preacher of the gospel is not a peaceful sinecure; it is a constant preaching with life and doctrine, an actual following in the footsteps of Christ!
It was beautiful to see how a little cloud which concealed the summit of Monte Viso, raised itself by degrees, and became more and more transparent until it entirely vanished, and the beautifully formed cupola of Viso stood free against the bright evening sky. When we had seen the sunset from the Capuchin hill, we walked backwards and forwards on the great bridge whilst the after-glow ascended step by step, and spread a clear splendor over the heights we had just left.
The after-glow, “the second brightness,” or rather the new crimson of morning, does it not now ascend over Piedmont? What does the young Italy desire? What are the ideas which exist in the minds of the noblest thinkers, and which Piedmont is endeavoring each day to bring into actual reality? Are they not
