"It is a devil, a devil personified! I saw him to-day," murmured the
monk, "I reached him but a finger, and 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