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Snows。 The sun came out as I left the shelter of a pine…wood； and
I beheld suddenly a fine wild landscape to the south。 High rocky
hills； as blue as sapphire； closed the view； and between these lay
ridge upon ridge； heathery； craggy； the sun glittering on veins of
rock； the underwood clambering in the hollows； as rude as God made
them at the first。 There was not a sign of man's hand in all the
prospect； and indeed not a trace of his passage； save where
generation after generation had walked in twisted footpaths； in and
out among the beeches； and up and down upon the channelled slopes。
The mists； which had hitherto beset me； were now broken into
clouds； and fled swiftly and shone brightly in the sun。 I drew a
long breath。 It was grateful to come； after so long； upon a scene
of some attraction for the human heart。 I own I like definite form
in what my eyes are to rest upon； and if landscapes were sold； like
the sheets of characters of my boyhood； one penny plain and
twopence coloured； I should go the length of twopence every day of
my life。
But if things had grown better to the south； it was still desolate
and inclement near at hand。 A spidery cross on every hill…top
marked the neighbourhood of a religious house； and a quarter of a
mile beyond； the outlook southward opening out and growing bolder
with every step； a white statue of the Virgin at the corner of a
young plantation directed the traveller to Our Lady of the Snows。
Here； then； I struck leftward； and pursued my way； driving my
secular donkey before me； and creaking in my secular boots and
gaiters； towards the asylum of silence。
I had not gone very far ere the wind brought to me the clanging of
a bell； and somehow； I can scarce tell why； my heart sank within me
at the sound。 I have rarely approached anything with more
unaffected terror than the monastery of Our Lady of the Snows。
This it is to have had a Protestant education。 And suddenly； on
turning a corner； fear took hold on me from head to foot … slavish；
superstitious fear； and though I did not stop in my advance； yet I
went on slowly； like a man who should have passed a bourne
unnoticed； and strayed into the country of the dead。 For there；
upon the narrow new…made road； between the stripling pines； was a
mediaeval friar； fighting with a barrowful of turfs。 Every Sunday
of my childhood I used to study the Hermits of Marco Sadeler …
enchanting prints； full of wood and field and mediaeval landscapes；
as large as a county； for the imagination to go a…travelling in；
and here； sure enough； was one of Marco Sadeler's heroes。 He was
robed in white like any spectre； and the hood falling back； in the
instancy of his contention with the barrow； disclosed a pate as
bald and yellow as a skull。 He might have been buried any time
these thousand years； and all the lively parts of him resolved into
earth and broken up with the farmer's harrow。
I was troubled besides in my mind as to etiquette。 Durst I address
a person who was under a vow of silence？ Clearly not。 But drawing
near； I doffed my cap to him with a far…away superstitious
reverence。 He nodded back； and cheerfully addressed me。 Was I
going to the monastery？ Who was I？ An Englishman？ Ah； an
Irishman； then？
'No；' I said； 'a Scotsman。'
A Scotsman？ Ah； he had never seen a Scotsman before。 And he
looked me all over； his good； honest； brawny countenance shining
with interest； as a boy might look upon a lion or an alligator。
From him I learned with disgust that I could not be received at Our
Lady of the Snows； I might get a meal； perhaps； but that was all。
And then； as our talk ran on； and it turned out that I was not a
pedlar； but a literary man； who drew landscapes and was going to
write a book； he changed his manner of thinking as to my reception
（for I fear they respect persons even in a Trappist monastery）； and
told me I must be sure to ask for the Father Prior； and state my
case to him in full。 On second thoughts he determined to go down
with me himself； he thought he could manage for me better。 Might
he say that I was a geographer？
No； I thought； in the interests of truth； he positively might not。
'Very well； then' （with disappointment）； 'an author。'
It appeared he had been in a seminary with six young Irishmen； all
priests long since； who had received newspapers and kept him
informed of the state of ecclesiastical affairs in England。 And he
asked me eagerly after Dr。 Pusey； for whose conversion the good man
had continued ever since to pray night and morning。
'I thought he was very near the truth；' he said； 'and he will reach
it yet； there is so much virtue in prayer。'
He must be a stiff； ungodly Protestant who can take anything but
pleasure in this kind and hopeful story。 While he was thus near
the subject； the good father asked me if I were a Christian； and
when he found I was not； or not after his way； he glossed it over
with great good…will。
The road which we were following； and which this stalwart father
had made with his own two hands within the space of a year； came to
a corner； and showed us some white buildings a little farther on
beyond the wood。 At the same time； the bell once more sounded
abroad。 We were hard upon the monastery。 Father Apollinaris （for
that was my companion's name） stopped me。
'I must not speak to you down there；' he said。 'Ask for the
Brother Porter； and all will be well。 But try to see me as you go
out again through the wood； where I may speak to you。 I am charmed
to have made your acquaintance。'
And then suddenly raising his arms； flapping his fingers； and
crying out twice； 'I must not speak； I must not speak！' he ran away
in front of me； and disappeared into the monastery door。
I own this somewhat ghastly eccentricity went a good way to revive
my terrors。 But where one was so good and simple； why should not
all be alike？ I took heart of grace； and went forward to the gate
as fast as Modestine； who seemed to have a disaffection for
monasteries； would permit。 It was the first door； in my
acquaintance of her； which she had not shown an indecent haste to
enter。 I summoned the place in form； though with a quaking heart。
Father Michael； the Father Hospitaller； and a pair of brown…robed
brothers came to the gate and spoke with me a while。 I think my
sack was the great attraction； it had already beguiled the heart of
poor Apollinaris； who had charged me on my life to show it to the
Father Prior； But whether it was my address； or the sack； or the
idea speedily published among that part of the brotherhood who
attend on strangers that I was not a pedlar after all； I found no
difficulty as to my reception。 Modestine was led away by a layman
to the stables； and I and my pack were received into Our Lady of
the Snows。
THE MONKS