conditions from one destined to become
a blessed servant of Heaven! Whether he
fulfilled them, is very doubtful; but he got in,
nevertheless — and soon got out again. The
discipline was too gentle to his liking, the
mortification was insufficient. The prior sent him
back to his parents, accompanied by a servant
of the convent, with his best compliments. La
Trappe, tried again in spite of his parents'
remonstrances, would have nothing to do with
him: then at least, although they allowed him to
stay a few days — perhaps to discover what sort
of stuff he was made of.

His parents were delighted; his mother urged
him to prepare himself sufficiently for ecclesiastical
orders, and sent him to visit his relations and
uncles. But the Abbey de Sept-Fonts ran in
his mind. At night he used to get out of bed
and sleep on the ground, to train himself
for the noble profession which it was the will
of Heaven that he should adopt.

He re-entered the Chartreuse de Montreuil,
left it, and wrote a first letter to his parents:

"MY VERY DEAR FATHER AND MY VERY DEAR
MOTHER, I inform you that the Carthusians having
judged me unfit for their profession, I left on the 2nd
of October (1769). I regard that as an order of
Divine Providence, calling me to a more perfect state.
They told me it was the hand of God which took me
away from them. I am, therefore, on the way to
La Trappe, the place which I have so long and
ardently desired. I beg your pardon for all my
disobediences, and for all the sorrow which I
have caused you; I pray you both to give me your
benediction, that the Lord may accompany me. . .
Have care of your salvation; read and practise what
Father l'Aveugle teaches; it is a book which shows
the way to heaven, and without doing what he says
there is no salvation to be hoped for. Think of the
frightful pains of hell, where people suffer a whole
eternity for a single mortal sin which is so easily
committed; force yourselves to be of the small
number of the elect .  Procure for my brothers and
sisters the same education as you have given me;
without instruction it is impossible to be saved."

But La Trappe would not have him. So he
took the habit, in the monastery of Sept-Fonts,
or the Seven Fountains, and became Friar
Urbain. In six months he left. The abbot gave
his uncles to understand that the inexpressible
sensibility of Benoit's conscience leaving them
no hope of making him of any service to the
establishment, they had not taken any steps to
keep him there. He became a pilgrim by trade,
and condescended to write a second and last
letter to his parents, informing them that he
was on his way to Rome, and giving them
another dose of good advice.

He went to Loretto, to visit the Holy House
which had flown through the air; he went to the
birthplace of the seraphic founder of the Franciscan
order; he went to the capital of the Christian
world. Wherever he went, he made himself
remarkable for his great compassion for souls in
purgatory; for his contempt for his own person
—never mentioning it except in terms which,
though not polite, still showed the little store
he set by it; and for a great love of his neighbour.
He prayed fervently for everybody, and
he gave to the poor the greater part of the alms
he received, only keeping what was necessary
for his wretched daily maintenance, without
thinking of the morrow. Benoit went to church
early in the morning. He was clad like a veritable
pauper. His habit was of ashy grey; over it,
he wore a very short cloak, a rosary round
his neck, an old rope by way of girdle, a wooden
cup on one side, and small bundle on the other.
Till noon, he heard every mass with the greatest
devotion, continually motionless, and with his
hands joined: to the great edification of the
persons present, who admired the modesty and
piety of this good pauper, and who all, as they
came out of church, said he was a saint. The
sacristan stated that he never stirred out of the
church; after dinner, he was always found in
the same position as in the morning, with his
hands joined and his eyes fixed on the statue of
St. James. In the evening, instead of leaving
the church, he endeavoured to remain there all
night, although he had taken no food all day.
Such a remarkable penitent was far too valuable
to be suffered to starve himself to death; but
when they obliged him to retire to an hospital
hard by, he would never indulge in the luxury
of a bed.

He made pilgrimages to Naples, Switzerland,
and Germany, and then back again to Rome for
the jubilee, all in the same fakir-like style of
life; but his favourite pilgrimage was to Loretto,
whither he made an annual trip, although Rome
was his permanent residence. Near the Coliseum
is still to be seen an ancient wall almost completely
in ruins. The blessed pilgrim found therein, a
hollow big enough to hold a man and shelter
him from the rain; his choice was soon made,
and for several years he had no other lodging.
He there took a short night's rest, after
spending the day in prayer, standing or
kneeling, constantly fixed and motionless, in
some of the churches, and after listening to the
instruction given to the poor in the hospital
which has just been mentioned. His health
suffered; he could ill be spared from the tableaux
vivants of the Roman places of worship; care
was taken that he should sleep under a roof,
but never was he known to undress himself to go to
bed. From morning till noon he remained kneeling
in prayer in some church, although occasionally
he spent half the morning in one church,
continuing until noon in another. He then
went to receive a dole of soup at the door
of some religious house. Thence, he went to
some church where the Holy Sacrament was
exposed for the forty hours' prayers, where he
remained till night. In eating his soup and the
morsel of bread that accompanied it, he first
took the bowl in his two hands, held it over his
head as if he were offering it up in sacrifice, and
prayed for the space of five or six minutes
completely absorbed in ecstasy.

At Loretto he first obtained the complimentary
remark," Either he is a madman or a saint."
They wished to find him some shelter in
a farm, but they dared not propose, even