nd he took my whole hand! No,"
sighed he, "the wickedness is in myself; it is also in this man, but
he is not tormented by it; he walks with elevated brow, he has his
enjoyment; I but clutch at the consolation of the church for my
welfare! But if this is only consolation! If all here consists of
beautiful thoughts and but resemble those which beguiled me in the
world? Is it but a deception like unto the beauty of the red evening
clouds and like unto the blue wave-like beauty of the distant
mountains! Seen near, how changed! Eternity, art thou like unto the
great infinite, calm ocean, which beckons to us, calls us, fills us
with presentiments, and if we venture upon it, we sink, we
vanish--die--cease to be?--

"Deceit! away! away!"

He sat tearless on his hard couch, desolate, kneeling--before whom?
Before the stone cross which was placed in the wall? No, habit alone
caused his body to bend.

The deeper he read within himself, the darker all appeared to him.
"Nothing within, nothing without! Life thrown away!" This thought,
crushed him--expunged him.

"I dare confide to none the doubts which consume me! My prisoner is my
secret and if it escape I am lost!"

The power of God, wrestled within him.

"Lord! Lord!" he exclaimed in his despair, "be merciful, give me
faith! I cast thy gifts of mercy from me and my vocation for this
world! I prayed for strength and thou hast not given it to me.
Immortality! The Psyche in my breast--away! away!--Must it be buried
like yon Psyche, the light of my life? Never to arise from the grave!"

The star beamed in the rosy red atmosphere, the star which will be
lost and will vanish, whilst the soul lives and emits light. Its
trembling ray fell upon the white wall, but it spoke not of the glory
of God, of the grace, the eternal love which beams in the breast of
every believer.

"Can the Psyche never die?--Can one live with consciousness?--Can the
impossible take place?--Yes! Yes! My being is inexplicable.
Inconceivable art thou, oh Lord! A wonder of might, glory and love!"

His eyes beamed, his eyes closed. The peal of the church bells passed
over the dead one. He was laid in holy ground and his ashes mingled
with the dust of strangers.

Years afterwards, his bones were exhumed and stood in a niche in the
cloisters, as had stood those of the dead monks before him; they were
dressed in the brown cowl, a rosary of beads placed in his hand, the
sun shone without, incense perfumed w