In all his journeyings in search of beneficial change of air or for the use of medicinal waters, he endeavored to take in the famous shrines; as for places noted in profane history, or the usual resorts of tourists, there is not the least mention of them in his letters, unless an exception be made in favor of those in Egypt and some art galleries in Europe.  But, “attracted by St. Catherine,” he went back to her relics at Genoa once more.  Drawn by St. Francis de Sales, he made a visit to Annecy which had a soothing effect upon him, for that saint was another of his favorites.  He often went out of his way to see a friend, or to seek the acquaintance of some man or woman of reputation in religious circles, and he was himself surprised at the number of those who had heard of him and wished to know him.  He readily formed acquaintances, and American, English, and French fellow-travellers could easily have his conversation and company on condition that they would converse on religious matters, or on the graver social and racial topics.  It was not a little singular that, although suffering from weakness of the nervous system, he could talk abstruse philosophy by the hour without mental fatigue.  Discussing such points as the different movements of nature and grace, the various theories of apprehending the existence of God, or how to bring about conviction in the minds of non-Catholics on the claims of the Church, he could tire the strong brain of a well man.  It was the things below which tired him.  He illustrated his conversation by gleams of light reflected from his past experience.  When circumstances condemn such generous souls as Father Hecker to inactivity, a favorite solace is picking up fragments of work or recalling high ideas from the crowded memory of their former zeal, often with much profit to those who listen.  And this was no idle-minded or boastful trait in him, as we see from the following: 

“Be assured I shall not follow my own will if I can help it.  Every dictate of prudence and wisdom will be my guide.  Until the clouds clear away I shall be quiet, waiting, watching and praying, seeking for light wherever there is a reasonable prospect of obtaining it.  In the meanwhile my time is not misspent.  The journeys which I have made, the persons whom I have met on my way—­these and a thousand other things incident to my present way of life are the best of educators for improving one’s mind, for correcting one’s judgments, and for giving greater breadth to one’s thoughts. . . .  It seems to me that I almost see visibly and feel palpably the blessing of divine grace on the work of the community, in its harmony, in the success of its missions, in the special graces to its members, in their cheerfulness and zeal:  all this, too, in my absence.  My absence, therefore, cannot be displeasing to the Divine Will; rather these things seem to indicate the contrary, and they awake in my soul an inexpressible consolation.”

But he said to one of his brethren afterwards:  “Oh, father!  I was sad all the time that I was in Europe.  Why so?  Well, it was because I was away from home, away from my work, away from my companions.  And that was why I attached myself while there to those persons who felt as we did, and were of like views, and participated in our aims and purposes.”