found and prepared. There he would fast undisturbed for twenty-four hours. I was told to leave on the first of August to make preparations.

"It was my first stay in Italy, and I was ignorant of the Italian language. I took a heavy rucksack because a mountain cave would be cold. Vegetarian food is so difficult to obtain while travelling in strange countries, and bank holiday is not the best time to choose for travelling third-class; so after a tiresome journey via Florence and Perugia, I descended at 3:30 P.M. on August 2nd, at Assisi.

"I felt like some travel-stained pilgrim; for many years I had studied and meditated on the life of Saint Francis. The rucksack, like a heavy burden, weighed on my back; but my heart was lightened by the purpose of the journey.

"The station is in the valley, one and one-half miles from the walled city, a massive stone fortress rising steeply from the plain and supported on rows of tall stone arches. To the right rose the gaunt curve of Mount Subasio; nestling along the lower slopes are spread terraced houses, the many churches and towers all built of a creamy or golden-colored stone. Behind the long triangular-shaped town rises the castle-crowned spur, Rocca Maggiore. The fortress (I found later to be the basilica built by Fra Elias over the body of Saint Francis) constitutes the westernmost point of the triangle. The city walls run eastwards and upwards, and widen to enclose at the eastern flank below, the church of Saint Clare, then the Cathedral of St. Rufino, a college, and above in the angle of the city wall – the smaller castle of Rocca Minore. The eastern end of the city (the broad base of the triangle) has two gates pierced through the wall; one at the lower corner (Porta Nuova) leads to San Damiano and to Foligno. From the other (Porta Capuccini) a road bordered by terraced olive trees, climbs up Mount Subasio to the Carceri Monastery about four miles distant .

"On my arrival I knew nothing about Assisi or the district. I later discovered the names of buildings and places. I found a room, visited the great church, found a Roman Catholic priest who could speak English, and explained that I wished to meditate in a cave associated with Saint Francis. He seemed surprised, and when he found I was a Protestant, could not see his way to help me.

"Practically all the places known to be associated with Saint Francis, and many apocryphal places, have been covered by churches, monasteries, and monuments. Like other places of pilgrimage, Assisi has been rather commercialized. I had not foreseen this difficulty and was rather depressed.

“Bearing in mind the plan of the city, I walked through its entire length until I came out of the Porta Nuova. I decided to cut across country and up the mountain slopes. It was already 5 P.M. I struck the Carceri Road. It was steep and dusty, and I was tired. I did not know the monastery's existence.

"The beautiful Umbrian landscape unfolded. On the right lay the valley of Spoleto. Cornfields and the rows of gnarled olive trees were left behind. The mountain slopes became steeper and wilder. I had looked for caves along the route but could see none. I turned into a narrow thickly-wooded gorge, passed beneath an arch decorated with religious paintings, and deciding to trespass further, I came to a group of small stone buildings and rang a bell. A monk in a brown habit let me in. A minute monastery in a grove of Ileac trees clung like a swallow's nest to the sides of a narrow ravine. In the small courtyard stood a well, on two sides were buildings, a refectory and a chapel built over the cave of St. Francis. On the other side ran a low stone parapet still warm from the setting sun. It commanded a beautiful view of the distant valley, framed by the dark sides of the ravine. I talked in broken French to the guide monk – it was no longer a monastery, but a show place for tourists and pilgrims too.

"Deep in the rock was a little cave – small because St. Francis