the chapel, where, after presenting me with holy water, he placed himself on his knees before the altar. The chapel is spacious; in the windows at each end of the transepts are, in the one, a picture of St. Benedict, in the other, of St. Bernard, in the dress of the order, and on one side the altar, St. Michael the Archangel. Several of the brothers were on their knees in the stalls of the choir; one of them, with his head reclined on his shoulders, and his eyes half closed, appeared to be in a religious ecstasy, resembling the portraits of saints by the old masters. From thence my guide conducted me to the library, where the number of books is but small; there are no seats, but benches round the walls. We next ascended to the dormitory; this is a long room, down each side of which the cells are separated from each other by wooden partitions: over the entrance of each, which is closed by a white linen curtain instead of a door, is written the name of its inmate-Abbas or Nonnus Petrus, Johannes, Placidus, Isidore, Stanislaus, &c.; their couch is a straw mattress a few inches thick upon planks; on this they lie in their clothes. From thence we proceeded to the refectory, where my conductor by signs appeared to direct that I was to be received as a guest; he then left me in the garden, desiring me to occupy myself there, and in seeing the mill, till the hour of dinner. I found one of the lay brothers superintending the mill, and another employed with a workman in sawing a beam. At noon the chapel bell tolled, and I proceeded to the refectory, where I found each monk taking water in his hands from the lavabo suspended at the wall near the entrance; some prayers were chanted in Latin, and then my place was pointed out to me at the high table, at which sat two persons, one of them a priest. These were "postulans," persons residing in a distinct part of the building with the view of trying whether they could habituate themselves to the mode of life. The frères du chœur arranged themselves at two tables against the walls, the frères converts (lay brothers) at a central table parallel with the others, and

at another facing the high table. The former were clad in white cowls, the latter in brown, apparently the natural colour of dark wool, and their heads were covered by their hoods. The number at table was about thirty. One of the brothers of the choir, sitting at a desk, during the repast, read passages from scripture in Latin, and some extracts from the rules of the order in French, inculcating the necessity of utter abstraction from the world, and the conduct to be adopted by the members towards each other. On the walls were inscribed sentences, pointing out the vanities of the world, the excellence of abstinence, and the shortness of life:-such as, "Labour not for the food which perisheth, but for that which endureth for ever""An austere life will be more consolatory at the hour of death, than one passed in pleasure and delight," &c. Acts of penance were performed by three of the monks during the time of dinner: two of them remained on their knees, with their arms covered by the cowl, stretched out to the full extent; the third, in a still more prostrate position, with his hands on the ground and his head touching or nearly touching the floor. The person who conducted me to the convent, on one of his visits had seen a monk extended at full length, with his face on the floor, at the entry of the refectory, so that it was difficult to pass without treading on his prostrate body. The dinner consisted of soup made of bread, cabbage, carrots, and other vegetables, a second dish of flour and water, dark but sweet bread of wheaten and rye flour, and at the high table a small jar of butter, and some cyder. Before each monk was placed his portion in an earthenware vessel, with a napkin and a wooden spoon. This is the sole repast in the twenty-four hours, except two or three ounces of bread in the evening. At the ringing of a small bell an interruption of eating took place, and a pause of a minute or two; when dinner was over, prayers were again said, the friars proceeded to the chapel and commenced the chant, the frères du chœur in the stalls, the lay brothers kneeling in front.* I shortly joined my former conductor, the frère hôtelier, who showed me a part of the building in which are very neat apartments for the postulans or novices, and for priests who may wish to pass some time in retirement, and an apartment better furnished for the bishop. I requested the further hospitality of the monastery for the night, and having been introduced to the superior, who appeared to me to be a man of talent, he waved the objection against me as a heretic, and conducted me himself to my chamber, on the door of which was affixed a paper with words to the following effect:"Those whom Divine Providence may conduct to this monastery are most humbly requested to take in good part the information which is offered to

them on the following points. Perpetual silence is enjoined in the cloister. If a stranger requires any thing in the monastery, he should address himself to the steward (frère hôtelier), because the brothers, who are required to keep strict silence, are not permitted to give any answer to those who speak to them. Nothing is required in return for the hospitality and simpl simple fare, which is offered as a duty enjoined by the order." A little before two in the morning the bell tolled, and the same brother came with a lantern and conducted me to the chapel, placing me in a stall opposite to where stood the abbot with a crozier before him. There was no light, save one lamp fronting the chief altar. After a chant of some duration, the monks fell on their knees, and remained in utter silence about a quarter of an hour; candles were then lighted, and the rest of the offices were chanted from the breviary, and concluded at four, when the monks retired, and re-assembled at seven: then the abbot, in the embroidered robes of the priesthood, read the morning mass, some female peasants attending in a part of the chapel divided by a grating. A few years back a ceremony used to be performed which is now discontinued as not being required by the rules; it has been described to me as one of exceeding solemnity : as soon as the monks assembled at the night service, they fell on their knees, and with their arms

extended like a cross, in a low deep voice chanted the 50th Psalm-" Miserere mei Deus, secundum magnam misericordiam tuam." All who have been present at the performance of the Miserere in the Sixtine chapel, at Rome, during the holy week, agree in representing it as a most imposing ceremony. When the last candle is extinguished, and the choristers burst forth with voices attuned by by long long practice to the most perfect harmony, the impression on the mind is most affecting; yet the solemnity is much disturbed by the struggling of strangers for places, and by the presence of the Papal guard in their dramatic particoloured dresses, and I can well conceive that the chant of the Miserere in a monastery of Trappists must be far more imposing. All the concomitant circumstances are of the most gloomy character; the solemn hour, the glimmering light, barely making darkness visible; above all, the conviction that these are not hired chorists affecting the harmony of sweet sounds, but men utterly abstracted from the world, who even deny themselves the use of speech, except in these supplications to their Maker-mistaken, as most will think them, but undoubtedly sincere; all these circumstances tend to make this service, as an act of deep humiliation and penitence, the most impressive that the heart can experience.

In answer to such inquiries as my conductor was permitted to entertain, and from information obtained in the immediate neighbourhood, I gathered, that the number of members of this community is at present thirty-eight, -that they are supported by the produce of the farm and garden,-by the dues paid in kind for grinding corn at their mills, by sums put into the common fund by those persons of property who join them, and by payments made for the masses read by those who are priests, and for their prayers, amounting probably to a considerable sum; as by many zealous Catholics they are considered in the light of saints. When sick, the severity of the discipline is relaxed, the advice of a physician is permitted, and broth and even meat allowed, if ordered by him and desired by the patient, probably on the principle that he is the best judge whether he is yet fit to die. At other times, nothing which has possessed life may be taken as food. When the hour of death approaches, some ashes are spread, covered with a little straw, and on this the body of the expiring monk is placed to await his last agony.

Though there are examples of some persons who attain a very advanced age, yet in general the lives of the Trappists are shortened by the severity of the discipline, the effect of which is strongly marked on their countenances. In fact, they may be said, in the language of Buffon, hardly to live, but rather to die each day by an anticipated death; and to expire, not by ceasing to live, but by completing the act of death.

Many romantic incidents have marked the early annals of La Trappe, and an occurrence of similar character, which happened a few years back, was related to me by a lady to whom it was communicated by the present superior of the monastery. The reverend father no doubt considered it a splendid instance of the triumph of religion over all worldly feelings; many will contemplate it as the sacrifice of the most tender charities of life to the spirit of inexorable fanaticism. There was living at Caen a young couple, who had formed a marriage founded on mutual affection; both of them were of serious temperament, and in moments of mutual confidence the husband confessed to his wife that he had formerly wished to enter the order of La Trappe, and the wife on her side said that, though confiding in his love, and happy in her present state, she too had aspired to a religious life. On one occasion when the husband repeated strongly his former views, the wife replied that, as there was so powerful an impression on both their minds, it was essential to their salvation that the advice of religious persons should be taken. After confession, and consultation with several priests, a separation was determined on: the wife retired to a convent of the order of the Visitation at Caen, and the husband was conveyed to the monastery of Trappists at Briquebec. From that day they were

utterly dead to each other, except that the superior on his visits to the convent at Caen, in passing the nun, whispered, "Brother-is well;" and on his return to his monastery, in like manner, communicated to the monk, "Sister -- is well." The only answer of each was, "Deo gratias." After six years' residence, the constitution of the young man gave way under the severity of the discipline; and at the hour of death, no thought of his former partner found utterance: his only expression was, "How happy I am to die a monk!"

My visit to this monastery produced in me very painful sensations; though the first impression, so different was all I saw from the transactions of life, was that of a scenic representation rather than actual truth. It requires a little time to realize to the mind the awful and chilling fact that this same unvarying scene is acted day by day, with no change in prospect but death. Surely when Providence has opened to us in the world an almost unbounded field of exertion for the benefit of mankind, it is a strange perversion of the understanding to imagine it can be grateful to him to abandon those of his gifts which are granted to us for utility, even if we think it for our spiritual good to renounce all the pleasures he has vouchsafed to smooth our path in this life. Some will indignantly exclaim with Rousseau-"C'est renoncer à sa qualité d'homme, aux droits de l'humanité, à ses devoirs." This, however, would be too severe a sentence; an unjust one, indeed, on the modern Trappists, who have done good service to the state in reclaiming waste lands, and in introducing an improved system of agriculture among ignorant peasants, and who exercise an extensive and not indiscriminate charity in their neighbourhood. Rather let us admire in the abstract the sublime principle which leads man occasionally to despise and trample on his mortal nature, in aspirations to the Unknown and Unseen; and let us lament the want of knowledge in the application of this principle, which, not appreciating the intimate union of our corporeal and spiritual natures, not only shortens life, but frequently deadens and debases the faculties of the soul in proportion to the prostration of the bodily powers, a result which may be much apprehended from a total cessation of the faculty of speech. In such a case, happy are they, who, from want of physical strength, fall early victims to the system.

The extraordinary nature of the establishment I had witnessed, induced me to refer to a work which gives an account of the institution and progress of the order. Rotrou, 2nd Count of Perche, during a voyage he made to England in the year 1120, with his wife, and William Adeling, son of Henry the First, escaped from the shipwreck in which they perished, and in consequence erected a church to the Virgin, according to a vow he had made in 1122, and endowed an abbey attached to it; the site was a wild valley, called La Trappe, in the forest of Perche, near the town of Mortagne on the borders of Normandy. Many of the dependents of Rotrou and the nobles of the country made donations to the abbey, which received a charter from St. Louis, and the special protection of the Popes by several bulls. The rules of the order were founded by St. Benedict and St. Bernard. The original charter is lost, but an ancient memorial of the abbey thus relates the foundation :-" Dignum est memoriæ commendare, et litterarum monumentis consignare, quo modo monasterium istud quod dicitur Domus Dei de Trapâ, fundatum fuerit: cum autem A. D. MCXX Rotrodus quondam Comes Pertici transportaret in Angliam, cum uxore suâ Matthilde, Willelmo, Henrici regis Anglorum filio, et proceribus Angliæ, navis quâ vehebantur naufragium fecit: sed predictus Rotrodus, in tanta positus anxietate, Deo promisit, si intercessione beatæ Virginis Mariæ presens evaderet periculum, ut ecclesiam in ipsius honorem ædificaret. Incolumis et in patriam redux votum solvit anno McXXII. et in tanti beneficii recordationem, voluit quod ecclesia inversæ navis formam referret," &c.

From the fifteenth century till 1662, the abbey had ceased to be inhabited by a regular abbot, and had been held

in commendam; it had partaken of the general relaxation of monastic establishments, and degenerated from its ancient austerity, when an event happened which effected a complete reform, and raised it to a degree of celebrity for severe discipline unequalled in the Catholic world. Armand Jean le Bouteiller de Rancé was born in the year 1626 of an ancient family, holding high situations in the magistracy; by favour of the court he obtained, at the early age of ten years, various ecclesiastical benefices producing a revenue of nearly 20,000 livres, among which was the Abbey of La Trappe, held by him as Abbé Commendataire. He early distinguished himself by his classical attainments, and in 1639 published an edition of Anacreon with notes; when he attained manhood, he was equally remarkable for his talents and his dissipation: his abilities raised him to distinction in the church, and to the office of almoner to Gaston Duke of Orleans. He passed his time between the pleasures of the capital and the chace at his patrimonial estate, and he formed an attachment to the Duchess of Mont Bazon, one of the most distinguished women of the age for beauty and accomplishments. This connexion began during the life of her husband, was continued till her death, which took place somewhat suddenly from malignant fever, and was followed by circumstances which exposed the lover to a trial, perhaps the most severe to which a man of ardent feeling was ever subjected. He was in the country, and his servants fearing to make the painful communication to him, he arrived in Paris in ignorance of what had happened, went immediately to the hotel of the Duchess, and using the privilege of a favoured lover, proceeded to her apartment: the first object which met his eyes was a coffin containing the headless body of his mistress! It would appear that the coffin provided having proved too short, the hirelings employed had, with a brutality we can ill conceive, severed the head from the body; and

the cloth, which had been carelessly thrown over the former, having fallen off, discovered to him her features disfigured by blood. This appalling sight produced the effect which might be expected on the Abbé: he withdrew from the world, and strove, by acts of penitence and prayer, to atone for the licentiousness of his former life. The same ardour which had distinguished him in his career of worldly distinction and pleasure, became apparent in his reform; he sold his estate, and gave the proceeds to the hospital of the Hôtel Dieu at Paris; he resigned into the hands of the King all his preferments except the Abbey of La Trappe, of which he became regular abbot by election, and by application to the Pope obtained permission to bring back the monks to the strict observance of the Cistertian rules: he found the buildings in a state of dilapidation, and the number of inmates reduced to seven, leading most irregular lives; he restored the buildings, and in a few years raised the number of monks to eighty, and so completely did they share their bread with the poor, that besides the daily distributions, the convent gave alms twice a week to from 1500 to 2000 persons. Subsequently, the number of brothers increased to 150, and it is said that, at one time, 6000 strangers received food and lodging in the course of a year, attracted thither by the fame both of their sanctity and their hospitality.* La Rancé lived thirty-six years in the full observance of the austerities he had restored, and died on ashes and straw in the 74th year of his age, A. D. 1700. The following passage from a petition, which he presented to Louis the Fourteenth, when he had met with opposition in his plans of reform, will show the importance he attached to the sanctity of monachism, and may cause some surprise in a former courtier of the seventeenth century.

"Sire, During the time that monks and those who lived in solitude pre

served the perfection of their orders perfection and the purity of their rules, they were considered as the visible and guardian angels of monarchies; they have been seen to defend towns against numerous armies which attacked them: by the power which they obtained in the sight of God, they supported the greatness and prosperity of empires; they have gained battles and victory which they had previously prophesied, and Christian emperors have had more confidence in their prayers than in their own valour and the power of their arms. It is well known that in Spain, at the end of the last century, a holy nun, living in solitude, knew in the spirit what passed in the memorable day of Lepanto, and that, even during the time of the combat, she obtained, by her tears and intercession with God, advantage and success in favour of the Church."

In the year 1789, on the motion of M. Talleyrand de Perigord, Bishop of Autun, the National Assembly decreed the suppression of monasteries; an effort was made by the council-general of the department to preserve that of La Trappe (an indication, surely, in the then state of public opinion, that they were not considered useless members of society). Two commissioners were sent to examine, but on their report it was determined that the institution was so anti-social in its character, that its preservation was inconsistent with the principles of liberty and reason. The commissioners found ninety members, viz. fiftythree priests and thirty-seven lay brothers. They were separately examined, and a large majority desired to continue their accustomed mode of life, having no thought but religion in their souls. Some were still in a high state of enthusiasm; others sunk into quietude, which may probably be translated-stupidity and deadened faculties; one was reduced to a total state of idiotcy, and another of insanity, said to be in consequence of the severe reproofs they had under