beauty of
a life of prayer in solitude, and was fully determined to 'enter
religion,' in the grand old phrase. So far my intentions were firmly
fixed, but I had not yet decided on the best means of carrying them out.
I realized the remains of my fortune, and set forth on my journey with
an almost tranquil mind. _Peace in God_ was a hope that could never fail
me.

"I felt drawn to the rule of Saint Bruno, and made the journey to the
Grande Chartreuse on foot, absorbed in solemn thoughts. That was a
memorable day. I was not prepared for the grandeur of the scenery; the
workings of an unknown Power greater than that of man were visible at
every step; the overhanging crags, the precipices on either hand,
the stillness only broken by the voices of the mountain streams, the
sternness and wildness of the landscape, relieved here and there by
Nature's fairest creations, pine trees that have stood for centuries
and delicate rock plants at their feet, all combine to produce sober
musings. There seemed to be no end to this waste solitude, shut in by
its lofty mountain barriers. The idle curiosity of man could scarcely
penetrate there. It would be difficult to cross this melancholy desert
of Saint Bruno's with a light heart.

"I saw the Grand Chartreuse. I walked beneath the vaulted roofs of the
ancient cloisters, and heard in the silence the sound of the water from
the spring, falling drop by drop. I entered a cell that I might the
better realize my own utter nothingness, something of the peace that my
predecessor had found there seemed to pass into my soul. An inscription,
which in accordance with the custom of the monastery he had written
above his door, impressed and touched me; all the precepts of the
life that I had meant to lead were there, summed up in three Latin
words--_Fuge, late, tace_."

Genestas bent his head as if he understood.

"My decision was made," Benassis resumed. "The cell with its deal
wainscot, the hard bed, the solitude, all appealed to my soul. The
Carthusians were in the chapel, I went thither to join in their prayers,
and there my resolutions vanished. I do not wish to criticise the
Catholic Church, I am perfectly orthodox, I believe in its laws and in
the works it prescribes. But when I heard the chanting and the prayers
of those old men, dead to the world and forgotten by the world, I
discerned an undercurrent of sublime egoism in the life of the cloister.
This withdrawal from the world could on