One evening in the month of July, 184--, a happy group were gathered in the wide porch of a well-known mansion in Prince George's County, Maryland. A little Catholic church had been recently built in the village of L---- by the zealous and wealthy proprietor of "Monticello," and as the means of the newly-formed congregation were too limited to support a resident pastor, one of the Reverend Fathers from Georgetown kindly came out once a fortnight to celebrate Mass and administer the Sacraments. On the eve of the favored Sunday, Doctor J---- took his carriage to the railway station and brought back the Reverend Father named for that week's services; and his visit was always looked for with delight by all the household at Monticello, domestics and children, but by none so much as by three recent converts to our holy faith, who often took occasion to propound to their amiable and learned guest any doubts on religious questions that had arisen during the course of the intervening weeks. On the evening above mentioned, the priest who came was an Italian Jesuit, the Reverend Father G----. He held his little audience entranced with a fund of edifying stories and interesting replies to the questions asked. The calm serenity of the night, the gentle, refreshing breeze that came from a neighboring wood of pine-trees, the beautiful glitter of the flitting glow-worm, and the rich perfume wafted from the purple magnolia _grandiflora_--all added to the enchantment. The doctor broke the charm by saying: "Reverend Father, we shall be obliged to leave early to-morrow morning. The carriage will be ready for you at 6 o'clock." "Is it a long drive to the church?" asked Father G----. "No; only four miles," answered the doctor; "but there will be many confessions to hear and, perhaps, some baptisms to administer; hence, unless the work is begun early, Mass will not be over before 12 o'clock." "I hope, then," replied the Father, smiling, "that you will not fail to awake betimes." "As to that," rejoined the doctor, "when I have to arise at any particular time, I recite a _De Profundis_ for the relief of the suffering souls, and I am sure of awaking promptly at he right hour." "I can easily credit that," said Father G----. "It is a pious practice which was recommended to me by the late Dr. Ryder, of Georgetown, when I was at the College," said the host; "and I have never found that any one to whom I taught the practice failed to find it truly efficacious." "If it would not detain you too long beyond your customary hours," said Father G----, "I would add to my long list of anecdotes one more on the _De Profundis_." All present besought the priest to favor them; in truth, the worthy household never wearied of pious conversation.