At last, Brother Cyrillus had recourse to an old and strangely carved
wooden press, which he carefully unlocked, and out of which he took a
small square box. "Herein, Brother Medardus," said he, "is contained the
most wonderful and mysterious relic of which our convent is possessed.
As long as I have been resident here, no one but the Prior and myself
has had this box in his hands. Even the other brethren (not to speak of
strangers) are unaware of its existence. For my own part, I cannot even
touch this casket without an inward shuddering; for it seems to me as if
there were some malignant spell, or rather, some living demon, locked up
within it, which, were the bonds broken by which this evil principle is
now confined, would bring destruction on all who came within its
accursed range.
"That which is therein contained is known to have been derived
immediately from the Arch-Fiend, at the time when he was still allowed
_visibly_, and in personal shape, to contend against the weal of
mankind."
I looked at Brother Cyrillus with the greatest astonishment; but without
leaving me time to answer, he went on.
"I shall abstain, Brother Medardus, from offering you any opinion of my
own on this mysterious affair, but merely relate to you faithfully what
our documents say upon the subject. You will find the papers in that
press, and can read them afterwards at your leisure.
"The life of St Anthony is already well known to you. You are aware,
that in order to be completely withdrawn from the distractions of the
world, he went out into the desert, and there devoted himself to the
severest penitential exercises. The Devil, of course, followed him, and
came often in his way, in order to disturb him in his pious
contemplations.
"One evening it happened accordingly, that St Anthony was returning
home, and had arrived near his cell, when he perceived a dark figure
approaching him rapidly along the heath. As his visitant came nearer,
he observed with surprise, through the holes in a torn mantle worn by
the stranger, the long necks of oddly-shaped bottles, which of course
produced an effect the most extraordinary and grotesque. It was the
Devil, who, in this absurd masquerade, smiled on him ironically, and
inquired if he would not choose to taste of the Elixir which he carried
in these bottles? At this insolence, St Anthony was not even incensed,
but remained perfectly calm; for the Enemy, having now become powerless
and contemptible, was no longer in a condition to venture a real combat,
but must confine himself to scornful words.
"The Saint, however, inquired for what reason he carried about so many
bottles in that unheard-of manner.
"'For this very reason,' said the Devil, 'that people may be induced to
ask me the question; for as soon as any mortal meets with me, he looks
on me with astonishment, makes the same inquiry that you have done, and,
in the next place, cannot forbear desiring to taste, and try what sort
of elixirs I am possessed of. Among so many bottles, if he finds one
which suits his taste, and _drinks it out_, and becomes drunk, he is
then irrecoverably mine, and belongs to me and my kingdom for ever.'
"So far the story is the same in all legends, though some of them add,
that, according to the Devil's confession, if two individuals should
drink out of the same flask, they would henceforth become addicted to
the same crimes, possessing a wonderful reciprocity of thoughts and
feelings, yet mutually and unconsciously acting for the destruction of
each other. By our own manuscripts, it is narrated farther, that when
the Devil went from thence, he left some of his flasks on the ground,
which St Anthony directly took with him into his cave, fearing that they
might fall into the way of accidental travellers, or even deceive some
of his own pupils, who came to visit him in that retirement. By chance,
so we are also told, St Anthony once opened one of these bottles, out of
which there arose directly a strange and stupifying vapour, whereupon
all sorts of hideous apparitions and spectral phantoms from hell had
environed the Saint, in order to terrify and delude him. Above all, too,
there were forms of women, who sought to entice him into shameless
indecencies. These altogether tormented him, until, by constant prayer,
and severe penitential exercises, he had driven them again out of the
field.
"In this very box there is now deposited a bottle of that kind, saved
from the relics of St Anthony; and the documents thereto relating, are
so precise and complete, that the fact of its having been derived from
the Saint is hardly to be doubted. Besides, I can assure you, Brother
Medardus, that so often as I have chanced to touch this bottle, or even
the box in which it is contained, I have been struck with a mysterious
horror. It seems to me also, as if I smelt a peculiar, odoriferous
vapour, which stuns the senses, and the effects of which do not stop
there, but utterly rob me of composure of spirit afterwards, and
distract my attention from devotional exercises.
"Whether I do or not believe in this immediate intercourse with the
devil in visible shape, yet, that such distraction proceeds from the
direct influence of some hostile power, there can be no doubt. However,
I overcame this gradually by zealous and unceasing prayer. As for you,
Brother Medardus, whose fervent imagination will colour all things with
a strength beyond that of reality, and who, in consequence of youth,
also will be apt to trust too much to your own power of resistance, I
would earnestly impress on you this advice,--'Never, or at least, for
many years, to open the box; and in order that it may not tempt and
entice you, to put it as much as possible out of your reach and sight.'"
Hereupon Brother Cyrillus shut up the mysterious Box in the press from
which it had come, and consigned over to me a large bunch of keys, among
which that of the formidable press had its place. The whole story had
made on me a deep impression, and the more that I felt an inward longing
to contemplate the wonderful relic, the more I was resolved to render
this to myself difficult, or even impossible.
When Cyrillus left me, I looked over once more, one by one, the
treasures thus committed to my charge; I then returned to my cell, and
untied the key of the Devil's press from the bunch to which it belonged,
and hid it deeply among the papers in my writing-desk.
One temptation, said I to myself, I have already overcome. I have
emancipated myself from the thraldom of Therese. Never more shall the
Devil, by his insidious artifices, gain ascendancy over me!
* * * * *
Among the professors in the College, there was one, distinguished as an
extraordinary orator. Every time that he preached, the church was filled
to overflowing. His words, like a stream of lava fire, bore with him the
hearts and souls of his hearers, and kindled in every one the most
fervid and unaffected devotion.
The inspiration of his discourses animated me, among others, in a
pre-eminent degree; and although I certainly looked on this
extraordinary man as an especial favourite of Heaven, and gifted with no
every-day talents, yet it seemed as if some mighty warning voice spoke
within me, commanding me to rouse from my slumbers,--to go and do
likewise!
After I had returned from hearing him, I used to preach with great
energy in my own cell, giving myself up to the inspiration of the
moment, till I had succeeded in arresting and embodying my thoughts in
proper words, which I then committed to paper.
The brother who used to preach in the convent now became obviously
weaker. Wholly destitute of energy, like a half-dried rivulet in summer,
his discourses dragged laboriously and feebly along; and an intolerable
diffuseness of language, resulting from the want of thought, rendered
his discourses so long and tedious, that most of his hearers, as if
lulled by the unceasing clapper of a mill, long before he concluded,
fell asleep, and were only roused after he had pronounced "amen," by the
sound of the anthem and the organ.
The Prior Leonardus was indeed an admirable orator; but he was at this
time afraid to preach, as, on account of his advanced age, the exertion
fatigued him too much: and except the Prior, there was no one in the
convent who could supply the place of the superannuated brother.
The Prior one day happened to converse with me on this state of affairs,
which he deplored, as it deprived the monastery of many pious visitors.
I took courage, and told him that I had many times felt an inward call
to the pulpit, and had even written several discourses.
Accordingly, he desired to see some specimens from my manuscripts, and
was with them so highly pleased, that he earnestly exhorted me, on the
next holiday, to make a trial in public, in which attempt I ran the less
risk of failure, being by nature gifted with an expressive cast of
features, and a deep, sonorous tone of voice. As to the subsidiary
acquirements, of action and of delivery, the Prior promised himself to
instruct me.