whatever unless he has unlimited freedom of action. Suppose that he

has been guilty of some irreparable error, from the shameful
consequences of which there is no escape; a sordid nature swallows

down the disgrace and survives it, the wise man drinks the hemlock and
dies. Suppose that the remainder of life is to be one constant

struggle with the gout which racks our bones, or with a gnawing and
disfiguring cancer, the wise man dismisses quacks, and at the proper

moment bids a last farewell to the friends whom he only saddens by his
presence. Or another perhaps has fallen alive into the hands of the

tyrant against whom he fought. What shall he do? The oath of
allegiance is tendered to him; he must either subscribe or stretch out

his neck to the executioner; the fool takes the latter course, the
coward subscribes, the wise man strikes a last blow for liberty--in

his own heart. 'You who are free,' the Stoic was wont to say, 'know
then how to preserve your freedom! Find freedom from your own passions

by sacrificing them to duty, freedom from the tyranny of mankind by
pointing to the sword or the poison which will put you beyond their

reach, freedom from the bondage of fate by determining the point
beyond which you will endure it no longer, freedom from physical fear

by learning how to subdue the gross instinct which causes so many
wretches to cling to life.'

"After I had unearthed this reasoning from among a heap of ancient
philosophical writings, I sought to reconcile it with Christian

teachings. God has bestowed free-will upon us in order to require of
us an accounthereafter before the Throne of Judgment. 'I will plead

my cause there!' I said to myself. But such thoughts as these led me
to think of a life after death, and my old shaken beliefs rose up

before me. Human life grows solemn when all eternity hangs upon the
slightest of our decisions. When the full meaning of this thought is

realized, the soul becomes conscious of something vast and mysterious
within itself, by which it is drawn towards the Infinite; the aspect

of all things alters strangely. From this point of view life is
something infinitely great and infinitely little. The consciousness of

my sins had never made me think of heaven so long as hope remained to
me on earth, so long as I could find a relief for my woes in work and

in the society of other men. I had meant to make the happiness of a
woman's life, to love, to be the head of a family, and in this way my

need of expiation would have been satisfied to the full. This design
had been thwarted, but yet another way had remained to me,--I would

devote myself henceforward to my child. But after these two efforts
had failed, and scorn and death had darkened my soul for ever, when

all my feelings had been wounded and nothing was left to me here on
earth, I raised my eyes to heaven, and beheld God.

"Yet still I tried to obtain the sanction of religion for my death. I
went carefully through the Gospels, and found no passage in which

suicide was forbidden; but during the reading, the divine thought of
Christ, the Saviour of men dawned in me. Certainly He had said nothing

about the immortality of the soul, but He had spoken of the glorious
kingdom of His Father; He had nowhereforbidden parricide, but He

condemned all that was evil. The glory of His evangelists, and the
proof of their divinemission, is not so much that they made laws for

the world, but that they spread a new spirit abroad, and the new laws
were filled with this new spirit. The very courage which a man

displays in taking his own life seemed to me to be his condemnation;
so long as he felt that he had within himself sufficient strength to

die by his own hands, he ought to have had strength enough to continue
the struggle. To refuse to suffer is a sign of weakness rather than of

courage, and, moreover, was it not a sort of recusance to take leave
of life in despondency, an abjuration of the Christian faith which is

based upon the sublime words of Jesus Christ: 'Blessed are they that
mourn.'

"So, in any case, suicide seemed to me to be an unpardonable error,
even in the man who, through a false conception of greatness of soul,

takes his life a few moments before the executioner's axe falls. In
humbling himself to the death of the cross, did not Jesus Christ set

for us an example of obedience to all human laws, even when carried
out unjustly? The word RESIGNATION engraved upon the cross, so clear

to the eyes of those who can read the sacred characters in which it is
traced, shone for me with divine brightness.

"I still had eighty thousand francs in my possession, and at first I
meant to live a remote and solitary life, to vegetate in some country

district for the rest of my days; but misanthropy is no Catholic
virtue, and there is a certain vanity lurking beneath the hedgehog's

skin of the misanthrope. His heart does not bleed, it shrivels, and my
heart bled from every vein. I thought of the discipline of the Church,

the refuge that she affords to sorrowing souls, understood at last the
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 perfectlyorthodox, 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 only benefit the
individual soul, and after all what was it but a protracted suicide? I

do not condemn it. The Church has opened these tombs in which life is
buried; no doubt they are needful for those few Christians who are

absolutely useless to the world; but for me, it would be better, I
thought, to live among my fellows, to devote my life of expiation to

their service.
"As I returned I thought long and carefully over the various ways in

which I could carry out my vow of renunciation. Already I began, in
fancy, to lead the life of a common sailor, condemning myself to serve

our country in the lowest ranks, and giving up all my intellectual
ambitions; but though it was a life of toil and of self-abnegation, it

seemed to me that I ought to do more than this. Should I not thwart
the designs of God by leading such a life? If He had given me

intellectual ability, was it not my duty to employ it for the good of
my fellow-men? Then, besides, if I am to speak frankly, I felt within

me a need of my fellow-men, an indescribable wish to help them. The
round of mechanical duties and the routine tasks of the sailor

afforded no scope for this desire, which is as much an outcome of my
nature as the characteristic scent that a flower breathes forth.

"I was obliged to spend the night here, as I have already told you.
The wretched condition of the countryside had filled me with pity, and

during the night it seemed as if these thoughts had been sent to me by
God, and that thus He had revealed His will to me. I had known

something of the joys that pierce the heart, the happiness and the
sorrow of motherhood; I determined that henceforth my life should be

filled with these, but that mine should be a wider sphere than a
mother's. I would expend her care and kindness on the whole district;

I would be a sister of charity, and bind the wounds of all the
suffering poor in a countryside. It seemed to me that the finger of