Charles de Foucauld’s silent death at Tamanrasset on December 1st, 1916, was the crowning proof, in a life full of them, of the falsity of that remark of an Arab’s to Ernest Paichari: Oui, vous autres français, vous avez le royaume de la terre; nous, les Maures, nous avons le royaume du ciel. The kingdom of heaven was surely opened to this Frenchman who had lived prepared for such a death; for in one of his notebooks, found after his death, was discovered this sentence, written at the head of the page: Vivre comme si tu devain mourir martyr aujourd’hui.

His life is too well known for it to be recounted once again; but it is useful for many reasons to attempt an estimate of the influence of that life, and to try and fathom to some degree Père Charles’s intentions and motives, to seek, even, an interpretation of that living martyrdom that was his life.

He died to all outward seeming a failure; yet how often is that. the lot of the saints. His diaries, his letters, all record his great desire for some companions to share his solitude.