With these noble qualities Von Mallinkrodt possessed the greatest modesty; he was accessible to every one, cheerful and familiar in the happy circle of his friends, respectful to his political opponents, just and reasonable to Protestants, and devoted to his spiritual mother, the Catholic Church. Like O’Connell, during his parliamentary labors he had constant recourse to prayer. “Pray for me!” were his farewell words to his sister when he went to Berlin to enter the arena of politics. When he had concluded the above-mentioned last and grand speech in the Reichstag, in regard to the laws against the bishops, with the words, _Per crucem ad lucem_, which he himself translated, “through the cross to joy,” and when he descended the tribune, he went directly to the seat of Rev. Father Miller, of Berlin, counsellor of the bishop, stretched out his hand to him, and said, “You have prayed well!” It is said of him that before any important debate in the chambers he went in the morning to Holy Communion. The people of Nord-Borchen tell one another with emotion how, without ever having been noticed by him, they have observed their good Von Mallinkrodt pass hours in prayer in the lonely chapel near Borchen. What pious aspirations he made in that secluded spot God alone knows. He was always very fond of reciting the Rosary, which devotion displayed itself particularly upon his death-bed. He asked the Sister who nursed him to recite the beads with him, as his weakness prevented him from praying aloud. When his wife approached his couch of pain, after greeting her affectionately, he told her to look for his rosary and crucifix, which she would find lying beside him on the right. The following day, when his sister, the Superioress Pauline, had arrived in Berlin, after a friendly salutation, he said to her: “It is indeed good that you are here; say with me another decade of the Rosary.” It is related of O’Connell that in a decisive moment he would always retire to a corner in the House of Parliament, in order to say the Rosary; it was also the habit of Von Mallinkrodt. The same living faith which animated him in life gave him also consolation in death. “Think of S. Elizabeth,” said he to his wife, Thecla; “she also became a widow when young.” When his wife, the day previous to his death, spoke to him of the love and grief of his five children, tears filled his eyes; but he wiped them quietly away without uttering a word, and looked up to heaven. He explained to the Sister who attended him why during his whole illness he had never felt any solicitude concerning his temporal or family affairs; for, said he, “I have confidence in God.”