ilence and solitude have important roles in the history of religions. From the solitaries of Upanishadic Hinduism and early Taoism to the initiates of Pythagorean wisdom and early Christian asceticism, seekers have attempted to reach ultimate goals by cultivating quiet and living in seclusion. This quest is frequently associated with those who follow the ways of the monk and the mystic. The life of the monk, with varying degrees of withdrawal from the world, and the path of the mystic, with silent meditation and ineffable experiences, characteristically require some physical isolation and reduction in speech. But monasticism and mysticism in their most profound forms manifest something far more interesting than the literal practice of silence and solitude: monks and mystics often understand solitude as the climate and silence as the language of liberation, enlightenment, or union with God. Silence and solitude then become sacred metaphors, often more than metaphors, to express the experience of ultimate transformation. The intimate relationship between silence and solitude in Thomas Merton's writings is one of the most striking themes in his work. My only task is to be what I am, he wrote near the end of his life, man seeking God in silence and solitude, with deep respect for the demands and realities of his own vocation, and fully aware that others too are seeking the truth in their own way (1973b:245). Silence and solitude, so central to Christian monasticism, had attracted Merton before he joined the Trappists in 1941, and his search for increasingly deeper silence and solitude remained a powerful force throughout his life; the explicit connection of these themes,