n, to be converted as soon as he shall visit Rome!
Apparently the Holy Father of that day laid little stress on the
sincerity of this offer on the part of the Sultan. Here, too, is a
wonderful correspondence between Don Erasmo Gattola, the historian of
the abbey, and a great number of the celebrated men of his time; and
there are hundreds of other letters, manuscripts, and documents relating
to kings, nobles, emperors, and many of the nobility of the age.

In this monastery there is a most interesting collection of relics, in
bronze, silver, gold, and _rosso antico_. The library proper contains
some eleven thousand volumes, dating back to the very dawn of the
discovery of the art of printing.

Mr. Longfellow, whose poet's pen has pictured so many of the Italian
landscapes and ancient monuments, thus set Monte Cassino to music,
picturing the entire landscape of the Terra di Lavoro region:--

"The Land of Labor and the Land of Rest,
Where mediaeval towns are white on all
The hillsides, and where every mountain's crest
Is an Etrurian or a Roman wall.

* * * * *

"There is Aquinum, the old Volscian town,
Where Juvenal was born, whose lurid light
Still hovers o'er his birthplace like the crown
Of splendor seen o'er cities in the night.

"Doubled the splendor is, that in its streets
The Angelic Doctor as a school-boy played,
And dreamed perhaps the dreams that he repeats
In ponderous folios for scholastics made.

"And there, uplifted, like a passing cloud
That pauses on a mountain summit high,
Monte Cassino's convent rears its proud
And venerable walls against the sky.

"Well I remember how on foot I climbed
The stony pathway leading to its gate;
Above, the convent bells for vespers chimed,
Below, the darkening town grew desolate.

* * * * *

"The silence of the place was like a sleep,
So full of rest it seemed; each passing tread
Was a reverberation from the deep
Recesses of the ages that are dead.

"For, more than thirteen centuries ago,
Benedict fleeing from the gates of Rome,
A youth disgusted with its vice and woe,
Sought in these mountain solitudes a home.

"He founded here his Convent and his Rule
Of prayer and work, and counted work as prayer;
The pen became a clarion, and his