He was a man in the prime of life, with cheek as fresh as a maid's, and a step that seemed incapable of weariness; his voice sounded a note of gentle kindness which caused the sufferer to smile at him in gratitude.
'This tree,' he said presently, pointing to a noble beech, its bole engraven with a cross, 'marks the middle point of the ascent.

A weary climb for the weak, but not without profit to him who thinks as he walks--for, as our dear brother Marcus has said, in those verses we are never tired of repeating:-- "Semper difficili quaeruntur summa labore, Arctam semper habet vita beata viam."' The other monk, an older man, who walked less vigorously, echoed the couplet with slow emphasis, as if savouring every word.

Then both together, bowing their cowled heads, exclaimed fervently: 'Thanks be to God for the precious gifts of our brother Marcus!' Basil endeavoured to utter a few words, but he was now so feeble that he could scarce make his voice heard above the creak of the wheels.
Again he closed his eyes, and his companions pursued their way in silence.

When at length they issued from the forest they overlooked a vast landscape of hill and valley, with heads of greater mountains high above them.

Here rose the walls of the citadel, within which Benedict had built his monastery.