. The monk and the hangman's daughter. d shake his head the wholejtjansma j-egion would be full of flying ) ex. y^j^ ^vere not a little surprised to find that invarious places along our road the forest had beencleared away for a space large enough to build ahut and plant a garden. Some of these rudedwellings stood where one would have thoughtthat only eagles would have been bold enough tobuild ; but there is no place, it seems, free fromthe intrusion of Man, who stretches out his handfor everything, even that which is in the at length we arrived at our destination andbehel
. The monk and the hangman's daughter. d shake his head the wholejtjansma j-egion would be full of flying ) ex. y^j^ ^vere not a little surprised to find that invarious places along our road the forest had beencleared away for a space large enough to build ahut and plant a garden. Some of these rudedwellings stood where one would have thoughtthat only eagles would have been bold enough tobuild ; but there is no place, it seems, free fromthe intrusion of Man, who stretches out his handfor everything, even that which is in the at length we arrived at our destination andbeheld the temple and the house erected in thiswilderness to the name and glory of our belovedSaint, our hearts were thrilled with pious emo-tions. Upon the surface of a pine-covered rockwas a cluster of huts and houses, the monastery inthe midst, like a shepherd surrounded by hisflock. The church and monastery were of hewnstone, of noble architecture, spacious and comfort-able. May the good Good bless our entrance into thisholy place. HAVE now been in thiswilderness for severalweeks, but the Lord, too,is here, as health is good, and thishouse of our beloved Saintis a stronghold of theFaith, a house of peace, an asylum for those whoflee from the wrath of the Evil One, a rest for allwho bear the burden of sorrow. Of myself, how-ever, I cannot say so much. I am young, and,although my mind is at peace, I have so little ex-perience of the world and its ways that I feel my-self peculiarly liable to error and accessible to course of my life is like a rivulet which drawsits silver thread smoothly and silently throughfriendly fields and flowery meadows, yet knowsthat when the storms come and the rains fall itmay become a raging torrent, defiled with earthand whirling away to the sea the wreckage attest-ing the madness of its passion and its sorrow nor despair drew me away from the 2rt)c p^onft 30 Jj^anfimansBauQttet. world into the sacred retreat of the
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Keywords: ., bookauthorbierceam, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookyear1892
