painting,
ordered him to paint the principal picture in the church. But the humble
brother said plainly that he was unworthy to touch a brush, that his was
contaminated, that with toil and great sacrifice must he first purify
his spirit in order to render himself fit to undertake such a task. He
increased the rigours of monastic life for himself as much as possible.
At last, even they became insufficient, and he retired, with the
approval of the prior, into the desert, in order to be quite alone.
There he constructed himself a cell from branches of trees, ate only
uncooked roots, dragged about a stone from place to place, stood in one
spot with his hands lifted to heaven, from the rising until the going
down of the sun, reciting prayers without cessation. In this manner
did he for several years exhaust his body, invigorating it, at the same
time, with the strength of fervent prayer.

"At length, one day he returned to the cloister, and said firmly to
the prior, 'Now I am ready. If God wills, I will finish my task.' The
subject he selected was the Birth of Christ. A whole year he sat over
it, without leaving his cell, barely sustaining himself with coarse
food, and praying incessantly. At the end of the year the picture was
ready. It was a really wonderful work. Neither prior nor brethren knew
much about painting; but all were struck with the marvellous holiness of
the figures. The expression of reverent humility and gentleness in
the face of the Holy Mother, as she bent over the Child; the deep
intelligence in the eyes of the Holy Child, as though he saw something
afar; the triumphant silence of the Magi, amazed by the Divine Miracle,
as they bowed at his feet: and finally, the indescribable peace which
emanated from the whole picture--all this was presented with such
strength and beauty, that the impression it made was magical. All the
brethren threw themselves on their knees before it; and the prior,
deeply affected, exclaimed, 'No, it is impossible for any artist, with
the assistance only of earthly art, to produce such a picture: a holy,
divine power has guided thy brush, and the blessing of Heaven rested
upon thy labour!'

"By that time I had completed my education at the academy, received
the gold medal, and with it the joyful hope of a journey to Italy--the
fairest dream of a twenty-year-old artist. It only remained for me
to take leave of my father, from whom I had been separated for twelve
years. I confess th