She could not speak to me of any subject more interesting, than my mother; for, though she had died a few years before, she had never ceased to be present to my mind, and near and dear to my heart.
Miss Perras had not spoken long when the curate arrived. I rose to meet him, but it is impossible to adequately express what I felt at that moment. The Israelites were hardly struck with more awe when they saw Moses coming down from Mount Sinai, than I was at the first sight I had of that venerable man.
Rev. Mr. Perras was then about sixty-five years old. He was a tall man—almost a giant. No army officer, no king ever bore his head with more dignity. But his beautiful blue eyes, which were the embodiment of kindness, tempered the dignity of his mien. His hair, which was beginning to whiten, had not yet lost its golden lustre. It seemed as if silver and gold were mixed on his head to adorn and beautify it. There was on his face an expression of peace, calm, piety and kindness, which entirely won my heart and respect. When, with a smile on his lips, he extended his hands towards me, I felt beside myself, I fell on my knees and said: “Mr. Perras, God sends me to you that you may be my teacher and my father. You will have to guide my first and inexperienced steps in the holy ministry. Do bless me and pray that I may be a good priest as you are yourself.”
That unpremeditated and earnest act of mine, so touched the good old priest, that he could hardly speak. Leaning towards me, he raised me up and pressed me to his bosom, and with a voice trembling with emotion he said, “May God bless you, my dear sir, and may he also be blessed for having chosen you to help me carry the burden of the holy ministry in my old age.” After half-an-hour of the most interesting conversation, he showed me his library, which was very large and composed of the best books which a priest of Rome is allowed to read; and he very kindly put it at my service.
Next morning, after breakfast, he handed me a large and neat sheet of paper, headed by these latin words:
“ORDO DUCIT AD DEUM.”
It was the rule of life which he had imposed upon himself, to guide all the hours of the day in such a way that not a moment could be given to idleness or vain pastime.
“Would you be kind enough,” he said, “to read this and tell me if it suits your views? I have found great spiritual and temporal benefits in following these rules of life, and would be very happy if my dear young coadjutor would unite with me in walking in the ways of an orderly, Christian and priestly life.
I read this document with interest and pleasure, and handed it back to him saying: “I will be very happy, with the help of God, to follow with you the wise rules set down here for a holy and priestly life.”
Thinking that these rules might be interesting to the reader, I give them here in full: