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monk's existence。 A long novitiate and every proof of constancy of
mind and strength of body is required before admission to the
order； but I could not find that many were discouraged。 In the
photographer's studio； which figures so strangely among the
outbuildings； my eye was attracted by the portrait of a young
fellow in the uniform of a private of foot。 This was one of the
novices； who came of the age for service； and marched and drilled
and mounted guard for the proper time among the garrison of
Algiers。 Here was a man who had surely seen both sides of life
before deciding； yet as soon as he was set free from service he
returned to finish his novitiate。
This austere rule entitles a man to heaven as by right。 When the
Trappist sickens； he quits not his habit； he lies in the bed of
death as he has prayed and laboured in his frugal and silent
existence； and when the Liberator comes； at the very moment； even
before they have carried him in his robe to lie his little last in
the chapel among continual chantings； joy…bells break forth； as if
for a marriage； from the slated belfry； and proclaim throughout the
neighbourhood that another soul has gone to God。
At night； under the conduct of my kind Irishman； I took my place in
the gallery to hear compline and SALVE REGINA； with which the
Cistercians bring every day to a conclusion。 There were none of
those circumstances which strike the Protestant as childish or as
tawdry in the public offices of Rome。 A stern simplicity；
heightened by the romance of the surroundings； spoke directly to
the heart。 I recall the whitewashed chapel； the hooded figures in
the choir； the lights alternately occluded and revealed； the strong
manly singing； the silence that ensued； the sight of cowled heads
bowed in prayer； and then the clear trenchant beating of the bell；
breaking in to show that the last office was over and the hour of
sleep had come； and when I remember； I am not surprised that I made
my escape into the court with somewhat whirling fancies； and stood
like a man bewildered in the windy starry night。
But I was weary； and when I had quieted my spirits with Elizabeth
Seton's memoirs … a dull work … the cold and the raving of the wind
among the pines （for my room was on that side of the monastery
which adjoins the woods） disposed me readily to slumber。 I was
wakened at black midnight； as it seemed； though it was really two
in the morning； by the first stroke upon the bell。 All the
brothers were then hurrying to the chapel； the dead in life； at
this untimely hour； were already beginning the uncomforted labours
of their day。 The dead in life … there was a chill reflection。
And the words of a French song came back into my memory； telling of
the best of our mixed existence：
'Que t'as de belles filles；
Girofle！
Girofla！
Que t'as de belles filles；
L'AMOUR LET COMPTERA！'
And I blessed God that I was free to wander； free to hope； and free
to love。
THE BOARDERS
BUT there was another side to my residence at Our Lady of the
Snows。 At this late season there were not many boarders； and yet I
was not alone in the public part of the monastery。 This itself is
hard by the gate； with a small dining…room on the ground…floor and
a whole corridor of cells similar to mine upstairs。 I have
stupidly forgotten the board for a regular RETRAITANT； but it was
somewhere between three and five francs a day； and I think most
probably the first。 Chance visitors like myself might give what
they chose as a free…will offering； but nothing was demanded。 I
may mention that when I was going away； Father Michael refused
twenty francs as excessive。 I explained the reasoning which led me
to offer him so much； but even then； from a curious point of
honour； he would not accept it with his own hand。 'I have no right
to refuse for the monastery；' he explained； 'but I should prefer if
you would give it to one of the brothers。'
I had dined alone； because I arrived late； but at supper I found
two other guests。 One was a country parish priest； who had walked
over that morning from the seat of his cure near Mende to enjoy
four days of solitude and prayer。 He was a grenadier in person；
with the hale colour and circular wrinkles of a peasant； and as he
complained much of how he had been impeded by his skirts upon the
march； I have a vivid fancy portrait of him； striding along；
upright； big…boned； with kilted cassock； through the bleak hills of
Gevaudan。 The other was a short； grizzling； thick…set man； from
forty…five to fifty； dressed in tweed with a knitted spencer； and
the red ribbon of a decoration in his button…hole。 This last was a
hard person to classify。 He was an old soldier； who had seen
service and risen to the rank of commandant； and he retained some
of the brisk decisive manners of the camp。 On the other hand； as
soon as his resignation was accepted； he had come to Our Lady of
the Snows as a boarder； and； after a brief experience of its ways；
had decided to remain as a novice。 Already the new life was
beginning to modify his appearance； already he had acquired
somewhat of the quiet and smiling air of the brethren； and he was
as yet neither an officer nor a Trappist； but partook of the
character of each。 And certainly here was a man in an interesting
nick of life。 Out of the noise of cannon and trumpets； he was in
the act of passing into this still country bordering on the grave；
where men sleep nightly in their grave…clothes； and； like phantoms；
communicate by signs。
At supper we talked politics。 I make it my business； when I am in
France； to preach political good…will and moderation； and to dwell
on the example of Poland； much as some alarmists in England dwell
on the example of Carthage。 The priest and the commandant assured
me of their sympathy with all I said； and made a heavy sighing over
the bitterness of contemporary feeling。
'Why； you cannot say anything to a man with which he does not
absolutely agree；' said I； 'but he flies up at you in a temper。'
They both declared that such a state of things was antichristian。
While we were thus agreeing； what should my tongue stumble upon but
a word in praise of Gambetta's moderation。 The old soldier's
countenance was instantly suffused with blood； with the palms of
his hands he beat the table like a naughty child。
'COMMENT； MONSIEUR？' he shouted。 'COMMENT？ Gambetta moderate？
Will you dare to justify these words？'
But the priest had not forgotten the tenor of our talk。 And
suddenly； in the height of his fury； the old soldier found a
warning look directed on his face； the absurdity of his behaviour
was brought home to him in a flash； and the storm came to an abrupt
end； without another word。
It was only in the morning； over our coffee （Friday； September
27th）； that this couple found out I was a heretic。 I suppose I had
misled them by some admiring expressions as to the monastic life
around us； and it was only by a point…blank question that the truth
came out。 I had been tolerantly used both by simple Father
Apollinaris and astute Father Michael； and the good Irish deacon；
when he heard of my religious weakness； had only patted me upon the
shoulder and said； 'You must be a Catholic and come to heaven。'
But I was now among a different sect of orthodox。 These two men
were bitter and upright and narrow； like the worst of Scotsmen； and
indeed； upon my heart； I fancy they were worse。 The priest snorted
aloud like a battle…horse。
'ET VOUS PRETENDEZ MOURIR DANS CETTE ESPECE DE CROYANCE？' he
demanded； and there is no type used by mortal printers large enough
to qualify his accent。
I humbly indicated that I had no design of changing。
But he could not away with such a monstrous attitude。 'N