He is not in any respect such a person as people in general would expect to find with me.  He had no instructor except an old priest, who entirely neglected his education; and of all that is contained in books he is absolutely ignorant, and he has no enthusiasm of character.  On the other hand, he has excellent practical sense; has been a judicious observer of all that passed before his eyes; has a nice sense of duty, which, in its unfailing, minute activity, may put most enthusiasts to shame; a very sweet temper, and great native refinement.  His love for me has been unswerving and most tender.  I have never suffered a pain that he could relieve.  His devotion, when I am ill, is to be compared only with yours.  His delicacy in trifles, his sweet domestic graces, remind me of E——.  In him I have found a home, and one that interferes with no tie.  Amid many ills and cares, we have had much joy together, in the sympathy with natural beauty,—­with our child,—­with all that is innocent and sweet.

I do not know whether he will always love me so well, for I am the elder, and the difference will become, in a few years, more perceptible than now.  But life is so uncertain, and it is so necessary to take good things with their limitations, that I have not thought it worth while to calculate too curiously.

However my other friends may feel, I am sure that you will love him very much, and that he will love you no less.  Could we all live together, on a moderate income, you would find peace with us.  Heaven grant, that, on returning, I may gain means to effect this object.  He, of course, can do nothing, while we are in the United States, but perhaps I can; and now that my health is better, I shall be able to exert myself, if sure that my child is watched by those who love him, and who are good and pure.

* * * * *

What shall I say of my child?  All might seem hyperbole, even to my dearest mother.  In him I find satisfaction, for the first time, to the deep wants of my heart.  Yet, thinking of those other sweet ones fled, I must look upon him as a treasure only lent.  He is a fair child, with blue eyes and light hair; very affectionate, graceful, and sportive.  He was baptized, in the Roman Catholic Church, by the name of Angelo Eugene Philip, for his father, grandfather, and my brother.  He inherits the title of marquis.

Write the name of my child in your Bible, ANGELO OSSOLI, born September 5, 1848.  God grant he may live to see you, and may prove worthy of your love!

More I do not feel strength to say.  You can hardly guess how all attempt to express something about the great struggles and experiences of my European life enfeebles me.  When I get home,—­if ever I do,—­it will be told without this fatigue and excitement.  I trust there will be a little repose, before entering anew on this wearisome conflict.