as long as man is man. Perhaps,
again, young Sturmi longed to try for once in a way what he was worth
upon God's earth; how much he could endure; what power he had of helping
himself, what courage to live by his own wits, and God's mercy, on roots
and fruits, as wild things live. And surely that was not altogether a
foolish wish. At least, he longed to be a hermit; but he kept his
longing to himself, however, till St. Boniface, his bishop, appeared; and
then he told him all his heart.

And St. Boniface said: 'Go; in the name of God;' and gave him two
comrades, and sent him into 'the wilderness which is called Buchonia, the
Beech Forest, to find a place fit for the servants of the Lord to dwell
in. For the Lord is able to provide his people a home in the desert.'

So those three went into the wild forest. And 'for three days they saw
nought but earth and sky and mighty trees. And they went on, praying
Christ that He would guide their feet into the way of peace. And on the
third day they came to the place which is called Hersfelt (the hart's
down?), and searched it round, and prayed that Christ would bless the
place for them to dwell in; and then they built themselves little huts of
beech-bark, and abode there many days, serving God with holy fastings,
and watchings, and prayers.'

Is it not a strange story? so utterly unlike anything which we see
now;--so utterly unlike anything which we ought to see now? And yet it
may have been good in its time. It looks out on us from the dim ages,
like the fossil bone of some old monster cropping out of a quarry. But
the old monster was good in his place and time. God made him and had
need of him. It may be that God made those three poor monks, and had
need of them likewise.

As for their purposes being superstitious, we shall be better able to
judge of that when we have seen what they were--what sort of a house they
meant to build to God. As for their having self-interest in view, no
doubt they thought that they should benefit their own souls in this life,
and in the life to come. But one would hardly blame them for that,
surely?

One would not blame them as selfish and sordid if they had gone out on a
commercial speculation? Why, then, if on a religious one? The merchant
adventurer is often a noble type of man, and one to whom the world owes
much, though his hands are not always clean, nor his eye single. The
monk adventurer of the middle age is, perhaps, a st