Father Lagier, walking on his hands and knees, his face covered with sweat, dust and dirt, was crawling out from under the table, literally rolling on the floor, in such an uncontrollable fit of laughter, that he was unable to stand on his feet.

Of course, when I understood that no devil had tried to drag me by the feet, but that it was simply one of the father oblates, who, to go through one of the common practices of humility in that monastery, had crawled under the table, to take hold of the feet of everyone and kiss them, I joined with the rest of the community, and laughed to my heart's content.

Not many days after this, we were going, after tea, from the dining-room to the chapel, to pass five or ten minutes in adoration of the wafer-god; we had two doors to cross, and it was pretty dark. Being the last who had entered the monastery, I had to walk first, the other monks following me; we were reciting, with a loud voice, the Latin Psalm: "Misere mihi Deus." We were all marching pretty fast, when, suddenly, my feet met a large, though unseen object, and down I fell, and rolled on the floor; my next companion did the same, and rolled over me, and so did five or six others, who, in the dark had also struck their feet on that object. In a moment, we were five or six "Holy Fathers" rolling on each other on the floor, unable to rise up, splitting our sides with convulsive laughter. Father Brunette, in one of his fits of humility, had left the table a little before the rest, with the permission of the Superior, to lay himself flat on the floor, across the door. Not suspecting it, and unable to see anything, from the want of sufficient light, I had entangled my feet on that living corpse, as also the rest of those who were walking too close behind me to stop, before tumbling over one another.

No words can describe my feelings of shame when I saw, almost every day, some performance of this kind going on, under the name of Christian humility. In vain, I tried to silence the voice of my intelligence, which was crying to me, day and night, that this was a mere diabolical caricature of the humility of Christ. Striving to silence my untamed reason by telling it that it had no right to speak and argue and criticise, within the

holy walls of the monastery. It, nevertheless, spoke louder, day after day, telling me that such acts of humility were a mockery. In vain, I said to myself, "Chiniquy, thou art not come here to philosophize on this and that, but to sanctify thyself by becoming like a corpse, which has no preconceived ideas, no acquired store of knowledge, no rule of common sense to guide you! Poor, wretched, sinful Chiniquy, thou art here to save thyself by admiring every idea of the holy rules of your superiors, and to obey every word of their lips!"

I felt angry against myself, and unspeakably sad, when, after whole weeks and months of efforts, not only to silence the voice of my reason, but to kill it, it had more life than ever, and was more and more loudly protesting against the unmanly, unchristian and ridiculous daily usages and rules of the monastery. I envied the humble piety of the other good Fathers, who were apparently so happy, having conquered themselves so completely as to destroy that haughty reason which was constantly rebelling in me.

Twice, every week, I went to reveal to my guide and confessor, Father Allard, the master of novices, my interior struggles; my constant, though vain efforts to subdue my rebellious reason. He always gladdened me with the promise that, sooner or later, I should have that interior perfect peace which is promised to the humble monk, when he has attained the supreme monastic perfection of considering himself as a corpse, as regards the rules and will of his superiors. My sincere and constant efforts to reconcile myself to the rules of the monastery were, however, soon to receive a new and rude check. I had read in the book of rules, that a true monk must closely watch those who live with him, and secretly report to his superior the defects and ,ins which he detects in them. The first time I read that strange rule, my mind was so taken up by other things, that I did not pay much attention to it. But the second time, I studied that clause, the blush came to my face, and in spite of myself, I said: "Is it possible that we are a band of spies?" I was not long in seeing the disastrous effects of this most degrading and immoral rule. One of the fathers, for whom I had a particular affection, for his

many good qualities, and who had, many times, given me the sincere proof of his friendship, said to me one day: "For God's sake, my dear Father Chiniquy, tell me if it is you who denounced me to the Superior, for having said that the conduct oi Father Guigues toward me was uncharitable?" "No! my dear friend," I answered, "I never said such a thing against you, for two reasons: The first is, that you have never said a word in my presence which could give me the idea that you had such an opinion of our good Father Superior; the second reason is, that, though you might have told me anything of that kind, I would prefer to have my tongue cut and eaten by dogs, than to be a spy, and denounce you!"

"I am glad to know that," he rejoined, "for I was told by some of the fathers that you were the one who had reported me to the superior as guilty, though I am innocent of that offense, but I could not believe it." He added, with tears: "I regret having left my parish to be an oblate, on account of that abominable law which we are sworn to fulfill. That law makes a real hell of this monastery, and, I suppose, of all the monastic orders, for I think it is a general law with all the religious houses. When you have passed more time here, you will see that the law of detection puts an insurmountable wall between us all; it de. stroys every spring of Christian and social happiness."

"I understand perfectly well what you say," I answered him; "the last time I was alone with father superior, he asked me why I had said that the present Pope was an old fool; he persisted in telling me that I must have said it, for,' he added, 'one of our most reliable fathers has assured me you said it.' 'Well, my dear father superior,' I answered him, that reliable father has told you a big lie; I never said such a thing, for the good reason that I sincerely think that our present Pope is one of the wisest that ever ruled the church."" I added: "Now I understand why there is somuch unpleasantness in our mutual intercourse, during the hours we are allowed to talk. I see that nobody dares to speak his mind on any grave subject. The conversations are colorless and without life."

"That is just the reason," answered my friend.

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