her daughter's grave. Yet has this dejected mother raised to her a monument, in the memoir which she has lately published of her daughter, which ought to be more rich in noble fruits, than all her works on education. It is a simple image of a lovely and gifted being, which will move many hearts, and move them to follow in the footsteps of the early perfected Rosa Ferucci. Her little notes to her betrothed husband exhibit a soul, in which unusual earnestness is united to the most attractive goodness and child-like grace. One sees her in the home of her parents preparing herself with a pious sincerity for her approaching marriage, whilst, at the same time, during the quiet evenings, she was arranging the materials for a Biographical Church History, which was to be the labor of her future. At the same time she attended to her parents, her music, to the whole little realm of home, ever glancing upwards, to the Father in Heaven, to whom she dedicated her labor, her love, and her whole life. Devotedness to His will consoled her in death, and gave her power to speak words of consolation to the mourners around her.
Catharina Ferucci is a warm Catholic, and although she combines with her devotion to the creed of her church, a discrimination unusual amongst Catholic women, it was evident to me that this prevented her from obtaining the comfort and the strength that she required. The many helpers, male and female, between the human being and God, prevent the soul from individually attaching itself to the only mediator between God and the soul, and prevent it from deriving the treasure of consolation and light from His
