uch
an extent that he was looked upon by some as a madman, by others as a
saint. It was evident he found more consolation in this than in his
philosophical triplicities, for he gradually calmed down and began
to lead a more rational life. His heart, with all his power for
affection, turned towards me, and his aesthetic bent found employment
in the study of early Christianity. The lofty, restless mind wanted
nourishment. After his first year in Rome he took up archaeology, and
by dint of hard study acquired a thorough knowledge of the antique.

Father Calvi, my first tutor and at the same time a great judge of
Roman antiquities, gave him the final impulse towards investigation of
the Eternal City. Some fifteen years ago my father became acquainted
and subsequently on terms of friendship with the great Rossi, in
whose company he spent whole days in the catacombs. Thanks to his
extraordinary gifts he soon acquired such consummate knowledge of Rome
as to astonish Rossi himself. Several times he began writing treatises
on the subject, but never finished what he had begun. Maybe the
completion of his collections took up too much of his time, but most
likely the reason he will not leave anything behind him except his
collections is that he did not confine himself to one epoch or any
specialty in his researches. Gradually mediaeval Rome began to
fascinate him as much as the first era of Christianity. There was a
time when his mind was full of Orsinis and Colonnas; after that he
approached the Renaissance, and was fairly captivated by it. From
inscriptions, tombs, and the first traces of Christian architecture he
passed to nearer times; from the Byzantine paintings to Fiesole
and Giotto, from these to artists of the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, and so on; he fell in love with statues and pictures; his
collections certainly increased, but the great work in Polish
about the three Romes remained forever in the land of unfulfilled
intentions.

As to these collections my father has a singular idea. He wants to
bequeath them to Rome under the condition they should be placed in
a separate gallery named after him, "Museum Osoria Ploszowski." Of
course his wishes will be respected. I only wonder why my father
believes that in doing this he will be more useful to his community
than by sending them to his own country.

Not long ago he said to me: "You perceive that scarcely anybody there
would see them, and very few derive any b