Thy mercies alone can save, and it is not in the frivolous and seductive
intercourse of a worldly life those mercies can be obtained.”
Stricken to the heart by these reflections, he hurried in a fever of
terror and alarm (the sepulchral voice still ringing in his ears) to
Grenoble, of which see one of his dearest friends, the venerable Hugo,
had lately been appointed bishop.
This saintly prelate soothed the dreadful agitation of his spirits by
relating to him a revelation he had just received in a dream.
“As I slept,” said Hugo, “methought the desert mountains beyond Grenoble
became suddenly visible in the dead of night by the streaming of seven
lucid stars which hung directly over them. Whilst I remained absorbed in
the contemplation of this wonder, an awful voice seemed to break the
nocturnal silence, declaring their dreary solitudes thy future abode, O
Bruno!--by thee to be consecrated as a retirement for holy men desirous
of holding converse with their God. No shepherd’s pipe shall be heard
within these precincts; no huntsman’s profane feet ever invade their
fastnesses; nor shall woman ascend this mountain, or violate by her
allurements the sacred repose of its inhabitants.”
Such were the first institutions of the order as the inspired Bishop of
Grenoble delivered them to Bruno, who selecting a few persons that,
like himself, contemned the splendours of the world and the charms of
society, repaired with them to this spot; and, in the darkest parts of
the forests which shade the most gloomy recesses of the mountains,
founded the first convent of Carthusians, long since destroyed.
Several years passed away, whilst Bruno was employed in actions of the
most exalted piety; and, the fame of his exemplary conduct reaching
Rome, (where his friend had been lately invested with the papal tiara,)
the whole conclave was desirous of seeing him, and entreated Urban to
invite him to Rome. The request of Christ’s vicegerent was not to be
refused; and Bruno quitted his beloved solitude, leaving some of his
disciples behind, who propagated his doctrines, and tended zealously the
infant order.
The pomp of the Roman court soon disgusted the rigid Bruno, who had
weaned himself entirely from worldly affections.
Being wholly intent on futurity, the bustle and tumults of a busy
metropolis became so irksome that he supplicated Urban for leave to
retire; and, having obtained it, left Rome, and immediately seeking the
wilds of Calabria, there sequestered himself in a lonely hermitage,
calmly expecting his last moments.
In his death there was no bitterness. A celestial radiance shone around
him even before he closed his eyes upon this frail existence, and many a
venerable witness has testified that the voices of angelic beings were
heard calling him to come and receive his reward; but as the different
accounts of his translation are not essentially varied, it would be
tedious to recite them.