A noble and worthy priesthood, according to his first encyclical, was to be one of the means towards that restoring of all things in Christ "which was to heal the wounds of the world." "The priest is the representative of Christ on earth," he said on one occasion to the students of the French College in Rome; "he must think the thoughts of Christ and speak His words. He must be tender as Christ was tender, pure and holy like his Lord; he must shine like a star in the world." This was not easy, he acknowledged; it needed a long preparation of study, of self-discipline and of prayer. The spiritual weapons must be well tempered for the combat, for the fight would be hard and long. "A holy priest makes holy people," he said on another occasion; "a priest who is not holy is not only useless but harmful to the world." And it was not only the cultivation of virtue on which he insisted, but the cultivation of the mind also. The man who all his life had curtailed his hours of sleep in order to study, had done it to perfect his priesthood, to fit himself to cope with the dangers that were abroad, to be armed at every point against error. Although his enemies were never tired of asserting that he was ignorant and unlettered, and he himself was quite ready to let the world believe it, his knowledge and the extent of his learning could not be concealed. Those who came in contact with him and his personal work could not be otherwise than impressed with his depth of thought, the extent of his reading, his literary and classical training, and his strong grasp of philosophy and theology. His wide and far-reaching appreciation of men and things in different countries all over the world was astonishing in a man who had not travelled, as many statesmen often remarked after conversing with him. He read French perfectly, although he felt shy at attempting to speak it. He was an excellent accountant. The delicacy and nobility of his dealings with others were unequalled.