The wild, rugged scenery, the solemn silence
of the house, and the sanctity of the mortified monks made a deep and
solemn impression on the tender hearts of the young visitors, who
felt the delicacy of their position in enjoying a forbidden hospitality.
The example of the evangelical perfection practised by these holy
servants of God insensibly drew Charles and Henry to love the sublime
virtues they practised. Nothing impressed them more than the solemn
chant of the Office at midnight. The slow, solemn enunciation of
each word by a choir of hoary anchorets rolled in majestic cadence
through the precipices of the mountains, and died away in the distant
ravines in echoes of heavenly harmony.
An aged father was appointed to entertain the strangers. He led them
to points on the mountain where the view was most enchanting; skilled
in ancient monastic lore, he entertained them with anecdotes and
histories from which he drew the most instructive morals. One cheerful
afternoon, when seated on the rocks viewing a magnificent sunset, the
aged monk told them his own history. He had been a soldier of fortune.
In youth his ambition was as boundless as the horizon; he worshipped
his sword and loved the terrors of battle. Fortune smiled on his
hopes, and he moved on from grade to grade, until he became commander
of a division.
He was present at the fatal field of Salzbach, where the great General
Turenne fell in the commencement of the battle.
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