suffering Jesus. The inscription, at the head
of each grave is painted on a wooden tablet
fixed to a wooden cross, to the effect for
instance, that Brother Gregorius, converted
(not born) on such a day, died on such a day;
and that is all.

The garden is beautifully cultivated and a
model of neatness. It is surrounded with a
mixed hedge of holly and hawthorn, which
seems intended to serve more as a screen
against boisterous winds, than for any
purpose of concealment. The monks make no
secret of their pursuits and labours; but
each goes on with his allotted task, quite
unconscious of observation; like Robinson
Crusoe at work upon his island. There is a
bee-house in the garden, tolerably well stocked
with hives; a little honey now and then
being among the permitted luxuries.

The rule of silence within the house, and
also, I confess, a certain oppressive feeling,
prevented anything like a flow of talk; but in
the course of our rounds I learnt that there
are no Englishmen, Italians, or Germans in
the convent. The majority of the inmates are
Flemish; the others, French. There seemed
to be no remembrance of the rumoured
retreat hither of Ambrogetti, the opera singer,
and no disposition to conceal the fact, if it
had really occurred. As there are ten or a
dozen other Trappist convents in France, the
famous personator of Don Giovanni may have
betaken himself to one of those. There are
monks here who can neither read nor write;
but very few—not more than two or three;
and, as the number the establishment will
accommodate is now nearly complete, the
Superior is unusually particular about the
novices whom he admits. Desertion, after
the profession is fully made, has occurred, but
very rarely indeed. There is no law or force
to compel a man to stay against his wishes.
Nothing but his conscience binds him there.
And, as a year of probation (sometimes two)
elapses before he takes the vows, a candidate
has sufficient time to know his own mind.
When this was stated, I thought the delay
sufficient: but, upon consideration, it clearly
is not. A twelvemonth is not long enough
for a man of strong feelings to recover from
the impulses of disappointed love, thwarted
ambition, wounded pride, excessive remorse,
or temporary religious melancholy, which
may perhaps have had its root in bodily and
transient causes. A deliverance from the
sway of the impelling motive followed by a
return to an ordinary state of mind, and the
subsequent regret, when all was over, at
having taken such a dreary and irrevocable
step, must be terrible torture to those who
suffer it. Escape would not be easy for an
individual clad in so remarkable a dress,
without money to aid his flight, and
surrounded by a population to whose strong
religious feelings such an act of apostacy
would be particularly repulsive. It would
be hard also to learn exactly what measures
of restraint the Superior might think fit to
exercise towards any member of the society
who might be justly suspected of meditating
evasion. But the face of not one Trappist
whom I saw bore the slightest mark of
discontent. Several were strong, young,
good-looking men; and I could not help
contemplating with awe the fearful nature of the
thirty or forty years which they still might
have before them to live.

Farm buildings are attached to the
monastery of the Mont des Cats. There are
stables, cowhouses, granaries; all which the
monks manage themselves. No women are
ever admitted: they milk their own cows
and make their own butter, consuming the
permitted portion of the produce, and selling
the remainder, when it does not happen
to be required for the entertainment of
strangers. There is a blacksmith's forge, a
brewery where they brew their own beer, and
a carpenter's shop in which all sorts of useful
things are made. A courtyard is well stocked
with cocks and hens, although their produce
is forbidden food. I was surprised to see a
pair of peafowl strutting before the eyes of
the silent ascetics. It was almost with worldly
glee and complacency that my Trappist guide
told me to remark what a magnificent show
the most beautiful of birds was making with
his erected tail.

On application made and permission
granted, strangers (females of course
excepted) are not only allowed to enter the
convent, but are boarded and lodged there
for several days, much in the style of Mont
St. Bernard, if they choose to remain and
conform to stated rules. Their diet is not
restricted to that of the monks. An artist
might find it worth his while to linger on the
Mont des Cats for a week or so. No charge
is made for the entertainment; but, on
departing, every one leaves what he thinks a
just payment according to his means, for the
time he has stayed there and the articles
which he and his have consumed; for he
may bring horses if he choose.

After seeing the things to which I was
taken, without requesting to be introduced to
more, I was finally conducted to the strangers
eating-room, a small apartment very like the
parlour. A wholesome repast was soon before
me, consisting of a soupe maigre of sorrel and
bread (it was Friday), cheese, an excellent
omelette, haricots stewed in milk, good brown
bread, butter, and a large decanter of beer;
the same which serves the monks for their
beverage, and which does no little credit to
their brewer. The monk who waited upon
me was one of the few permitted to speak.
He was a young man not more than thirty,
with a pleasant open countenance; though
disfigured by the small pox and discoloured
teeth. He blushed as he uttered his
salutation of "Monsieur!" but in an instant we
were perfectly at ease. He had fully taken
the vows of his order; but his manner was