"You will say this is a diseased imagination,--the fruits of
an overworked brain, or, not improbably, the result of an
overwrought vanity, that would seek consolation for failures
in the dim regions of superstition. It may be so; and yet I
have found this terror beset me more in the seasons of my
strength and activity than in those of sickness and
depression. Could I have given a shape and color to my
thoughts, I might have whispered them in the confessional,
and sought some remedy against their pain; but I could not.
They flash on my waking faculties like the memories of a
recent dream. I half doubt that they are not real, and look
around me for the evidences of some change in my condition.
I tremble at the first footstep that draws near my door,
lest the new-comer should bring the tidings of my downfall!

"I was at Borne--a student of the Irish college--when this
cloud first broke over me. Some letter came from Ireland,--
some document containing a confession, I believe. I was
summoned before the superiors, and questioned as to my
family, of which I knew nothing; and as to my means, of
which I could tell as little. My attainments at the college
were inquired into, and a strict scrutiny aa to my conduct;
but though both were above reproach, not a word of
commendation escaped them; on the contrary, I overheard,
amid their whisperings, the terrible word 'degradato!' You
can fancy how my heart sank within me at a phrase so
significant of shame and debasement!

"I was told the next morning that my patron was dead, and
that, having no longer the means to support the charges of a
student, I should become a 'laico;' in other words, a
species of servant in the college. These were dreadful
tidings; but they were short of what I feared. There was
nothing said of 'degradation.' I struggled, however, against
the hardship of the sentence,--I appealed to my proficiency
in study, the prizes I had won, the character I bore, and so
on; but although a few months more would have seen me
qualified for the priesthood, my prayer was rejected, and I
was made a 'laico.' Two months afterwards I was sent to the
convent of 'Espiazione,' at Ancona. Many of my early letters
have told you the sufferings of that life!--the awful
punishments of that gl