No, no, weep not, my dear and saintly mother, and be brave, as you
have always been. Should the pleasure of having offered to our adored
Italy, this glorious land, this land predestined by God, should the
pleasure of having offered the sacrifice of the life of one of your
sons, be not sufficient for you, remember, nevertheless, that you must
not rebel, not even for one instant, to the divinely wise and divinely
loving decrees of our Lord. If He wanted to reserve me for other
work, He could have permitted me to survive. Since He has called me
to Himself, it is a sign that such was the best thing that could have
happened and the best thing for me. He knows what He is doing, and it
remains for us to bow and to adore, accepting with trustful joy His
most Exalted Will.
I do not bemoan life. I have tasted of all its insane infatuations and
have withdrawn with an insurmountable weariness and disgust.
Like a young prodigal son, after so many wanderings, having returned to
the house of the father, I could have hoped now, and reasonably so, to
taste of the good joys, the joys of duties well performed, of the good
practised and preached, the joys born of art, of labor, of charity, of
a fruitful mind.
Side by side with the good, beautiful girl whom you know and esteem,
and whom I have always loved, always so tenderly, timidly and
faithfully loved, even in the midst of my errors and blameworthy
blunders, I could have hoped to make a good husband and a good father.
In the world there are so many battles to fight, for love, for
justice, for liberty, for the faith, and for a time I must confess, I
presumptuously believed myself predestined and assigned to the arduous
and terrible task of winning one or another of these battles.
All this was, I admit, beautiful, flattering, desirable, but it cannot
compare with my present lot. This is the very truth, and indeed I
cannot say whether I would really be satisfied if the writing of this
letter would have been in vain. Life is sad; it is a painful and
annoying duty, a long exile in the uncertainty of our own lot. In
order that life might go quickly in accordance with my wishes, and
without leaving me in a thousand disappointments, there would be need
of many very rare and difficult occurrences. Besides, I am and I feel
weak, I have not the least confidence in myself. The whole battle
against the ingratitude and wickedness of the world would not have
frightened me as much as the battle against myself. It is better,
therefore, dear mother, as it has happened. The Lord, in His wise and
infinite goodness, has reserved for me just the destiny that was fit
for me; a destiny that is easy, sweet, honorable, rapid; to die in
battle for one's country.
With this beautiful and praiseworthy past, fulfilling the most desired
of all duties as a good citizen towards the land that gave him birth,
I depart, in the midst of the tears of all those that love me, from
a life toward which I felt weary and disgusted. I leave the failings
of life, I leave sin, I leave the sad and afflicted spectacle of the
small and momentary triumphs of evil over good. I leave to my humble
body the weight of all my chains and I fly away, free, free in the end,
to the heavens above, where resides our Father, to the heavens above,
where His holy will is always done. Just imagine, dear mother, with
what joy I will receive from His hands even the chastisements that His
justice will impose on account of my sins. He Himself has paid all
these chastisements by His superabundant merits, a God of mercy and
of love, redeeming me with His precious blood, living and dying here
below for my sake. Only through His grace, only through Jesus Christ,
could I have succeeded that my sins be not my eternal death. He has
seen the tears of my sorrow, He has pardoned me through the mouth of
His spotless spouse, the Church. I do sincerely hope that the Madonna,
so loving and kind toward us, will assist me with her powerful help in
the instant when my eternity will be decided.