cheerful, and no sign of unhappiness was
apparent. Among other things, on my
mentioning the struggles people have to go
through with in the world, and the benefit
which they often may and do derive from
them; he replied that they too in the convent
had to struggle in their way, and that the
grace of God was all-sufficient.

There are two points in respect to which I
had been prejudiced against the Trappists.
I had been told, in the first place, that they
reeked with dirt; yet, that everything at the
Mont des Cats was clean, except the Trappists
themselves. It might have been remembered
that personal uncleanliness would only be a
consistent habit in those who devote
themselves to a life of mortification. Visitors have
no right to complain, seeing that their presence
is not invited, but simply tolerated. But, of
the Trappists whom I saw myself, I should
say that they were neither clean nor dirty.
Many common soldiers and workmen, if
inspected, would probably suffer by
comparison with them. I dare say they do not
often wash, but that does not prevent them
from wiping now and then; like the charming
actress who, to preserve the delicate symmetry
of her feet, would never allow water to touch
them, but only had them scraped a little now
and then. Their inner garment is changed
once a fortnight, and none of their stockings
had a dirty look.

Secondly, I had heard that the great
majority of the Trappists bore on their
countenance the mark of stupidity; that
there were not more than three or four of
the number who could be taken to be clever
men. But here I must think that outside
show had been misinterpreted. The
monks have the air of men possessed with a
fixed idea. But a fixed idea is no proof of
stupidity. Some of the important events in
the world's history have been brought about
by men with fixed ideas; although not, it
must be owned, by ideas fixed unchangeably
within the four walls of a monastery. The
demeanour of the Trappists is that of persons
who wish to avoid all communication—that
is their rule, their insanity. The silent
members never look you in the face. They
rather turn their head aside. They treat
any intruding visitor just as if he did not
exist. While I was in the dormitory, a
young monk chanced to pass through it.
His face and gait could not have been more
impassive had the apartment been perfectly
empty. In the court, two monks were sawing
a tree. The lower one had his back turned
towards me; but the top-sawyer—a fine strong
man who stood full erect before my view—
regarded me no more than a withered leaf which
the wind might drift beneath his feet in the
deepest glade of a lonely forest. Another,
measuring a piece of timber, was equally
absorbed in his own proper business. The same
also in the blacksmith's shop. The monk there
(who was aided by a boy from the village)
continued his work with exactly the same
air as if no stranger had entered the door.
Coldness and abstraction assumed in
obedience to a supposed duty, have been mistaken
for weakness of intellect. Upon occasion,
this cutting mode of behaviour is pushed
to an incredible extreme. A monk now living
on the Mont des Cats was once working in a
wood close by: his father had watched for him,
and came to the spot to look once more upon
the son who was lost to his affections. But
his salutation was left unnoticed. The monk,
gazing upon empty air, continued his occupation,
and remained obstinately unconscious of
the presence of his parent. After another
vain attempt, the father gave it up and
departed, weeping bitterly. The father is now
dead. But if, as is possible, the son had been
driven to take the vows in consequence of any
harsh over-exertion of paternal authority,
how severe must have been the final
punishment!

The Trappists derive their name from the
Abbey of La Trappe, which is situated four
leagues from Mortagne, in Perche, on the
southern borders of Normandy. It was
founded by one of the Counts of Perche in
the year one thousand one hundred and forty,
during the pontificate of Innocent the Second
and the reign of Louis the Seventh. La
Trappe was at first celebrated for the holiness
of its early devotees, but they fell away
sadly from their strict profession. The abbey
was several times plundered by the English
during the terrible wars of the time. The
monks had the courage to remain for a while;
but the continuance of the peril compelled
them to leave. On the conclusion of peace
they returned to their monastery, but with
the relaxed ideas which they had acquired in
the world. In one thousand six hundred and
sixty-two the Abbé de Rancé, converted—
after the sudden death of Madame de
Montbazon, of whom he was the favoured lover—
introduced the most austere reforms into the
monastery of La Trappe. The lives of De
Rancé written by his partizans and by gross
flatterers of Louis the Fourteenth are such
unsatisfactory reading, that no dependance
can be placed upon them. He died in one
thousand seven hundred at the age of seventy-
four; after having abdicated his charge, and
wishing to resume it. His whole career is
full of inconsistencies. He translated
Anacreon, and then became the instrument
of enforcing the most austere discipline.

And who are the men who voluntarily join
the Trappists of the Mont des Cats and
elsewhere? " Hither retreat," says the
Encyclopédie, " those who have committed secret
crimes, remorse for which torments their
heart; those who are troubled with melancholy
and religious vapours; those who have
forgotten that God is the most merciful of
fathers, and who only behold in him the most
cruel of tyrants; those who reduce to nothing
the sufferings, the death, and the passion of