turning　a　corner；　fear　took　hold　on　me　from　head　to　foot　…　slavish；
  superstitious　fear；　and　though　I　did　not　stop　in　my　advance；　yet　I
  went　on　slowly；　like　a　man　who　should　have　passed　a　bourne
  unnoticed；　and　strayed　into　the　country　of　the　dead。　　For　there；
  upon　the　narrow　new…made　road；　between　the　stripling　pines；　was　a
  mediaeval　friar；　fighting　with　a　barrowful　of　turfs。　　Every　Sunday
  of　my　childhood　I　used　to　study　the　Hermits　of　Marco　Sadeler　…
  enchanting　prints；　full　of　wood　and　field　and　mediaeval　landscapes；
  as　large　as　a　county；　for　the　imagination　to　go　a…travelling　in；
  and　here；　sure　enough；　was　one　of　Marco　Sadeler's　heroes。　　He　was
  robed　in　white　like　any　spectre；　and　the　hood　falling　back；　in　the
  instancy　of　his　contention　with　the　barrow；　disclosed　a　pate　as
  bald　and　yellow　as　a　skull。　　He　might　have　been　buried　any　time
  these　thousand　years；　and　all　the　lively　parts　of　him　resolved　into
  earth　and　broken　up　with　the　farmer's　harrow。
  I　was　troubled　besides　in　my　mind　as　to　etiquette。　　Durst　I　address
  a　person　who　was　under　a　vow　of　silence？　　Clearly　not。　　But　drawing
  near；　I　doffed　my　cap　to　him　with　a　far…away　superstitious
  reverence。　　He　nodded　back；　and　cheerfully　addressed　me。　　Was　I
  going　to　the　monastery？　　Who　was　I？　　An　Englishman？　　Ah；　an
  Irishman；　then？
  'No；'　I　said；　'a　Scotsman。'
  A　Scotsman？　　Ah；　he　had　never　seen　a　Scotsman　before。　　And　he
  looked　me　all　over；　his　good；　honest；　brawny　countenance　shining
  with　interest；　as　a　boy　might　look　upon　a　lion　or　an　alligator。
  From　him　I　learned　with　disgust　that　I　could　not　be　received　at　Our
  Lady　of　the　Snows；　I　might　get　a　meal；　perhaps；　but　that　was　all。
  And　then；　as　our　talk　ran　on；　and　it　turned　out　that　I　was　not　a
  pedlar；　but　a　literary　man；　who　drew　landscapes　and　was　going　to
  write　a　book；　he　changed　his　manner　of　thinking　as　to　my　reception
  （for　I　fear　they　respect　persons　even　in　a　Trappist　monastery）；　and
  told　me　I　must　be　sure　to　ask　for　the　Father　Prior；　and　state　my
  case　to　him　in　full。　　On　second　thoughts　he　determined　to　go　down
  with　me　himself；　he　thought　he　could　manage　for　me　better。　　Might
  he　say　that　I　was　a　geographer？
  No；　I　thought；　in　the　interests　of　truth；　he　positively　might　not。
  'Very　well；　then'　（with　disappointment）；　'an　author。'
  It　appeared　he　had　been　in　a　seminary　with　six　young　Irishmen；　all
  priests　long　since；　who　had　received　newspapers　and　kept　him
  informed　of　the　state　of　ecclesiastical　affairs　in　England。　　And　he
  asked　me　eagerly　after　Dr。　Pusey；　for　whose　conversion　the　good　man
  had　continued　ever　since　to　pray　night　and　morning。
  'I　thought　he　was　very　near　the　truth；'　he　said；　'and　he　will　reach
  it　yet；　there　is　so　much　virtue　in　prayer。'
  He　must　be　a　stiff；　ungodly　Protestant　who　can　take　anything　but
  pleasure　in　this　kind　and　hopeful　story。　　While　he　was　thus　near
  the　subject；　the　good　father　asked　me　if　I　were　a　Christian；　and
  when　he　found　I　was　not；　or　not　after　his　way；　he　glossed　it　over
  with　great　good…will。
  The　road　which　we　were　following；　and　which　this　stalwart　father
  had　made　with　his　own　two　hands　within　the　space　of　a　year；　came　to
  a　corner；　and　showed　us　some　white　buildings　a　little　farther　on
  beyond　the　wood。　　At　the　same　time；　the　bell　once　more　sounded
  abroad。　　We　were　hard　upon　the　monastery。　　Father　Apollinaris　（for
  that　was　my　companion's　name）　stopped　me。
  'I　must　not　speak　to　you　down　there；'　he　said。　　'Ask　for　the
  Brother　Porter；　and　all　will　be　well。　　But　try　to　see　me　as　you　go
  out　again　through　the　wood；　where　I　may　speak　to　you。　　I　am　charmed
  to　have　made　your　acquaintance。'
  And　then　suddenly　raising　his　arms；　flapping　his　fingers；　and
  crying　out　twice；　'I　must　not　speak；　I　must　not　speak！'　he　ran　away
  in　front　of　me；　and　disappeared　into　the　monastery　door。
  I　own　this　somewhat　ghastly　eccentricity　went　a　good　way　to　revive
  my　terrors。　　But　where　one　was　so　good　and　simple；　why　should　not
  all　be　alike？　　I　took　heart　of　grace；　and　went　forward　to　the　gate
  as　fast　as　Modestine；　who　seemed　to　have　a　disaffection　for
  monasteries；　would　permit。　　It　was　the　first　door；　in　my
  acquaintance　of　her；　which　she　had　not　shown　an　indecent　haste　to
  enter。　　I　summoned　the　place　in　form；　though　with　a　quaking　heart。
  Father　Michael；　the　Father　Hospitaller；　and　a　pair　of　brown…robed
  brothers　came　to　the　gate　and　spoke　with　me　a　while。　　I　think　my
  sack　was　the　great　attraction；　it　had　already　beguiled　the　heart　of
  poor　Apollinaris；　who　had　charged　me　on　my　life　to　show　it　to　the
  Father　Prior；　But　whether　it　was　my　address；　or　the　sack；　or　the
  idea　speedily　published　among　that　part　of　the　brotherhood　who
  attend　on　strangers　that　I　was　not　a　pedlar　after　all；　I　found　no
  difficulty　as　to　my　reception。　　Modestine　was　led　away　by　a　layman
  to　the　stables；　and　I　and　my　pack　were　received　into　Our　Lady　of
  the　Snows。
  THE　MONKS
  FATHER　MICHAEL；　a　pleasant；　fresh…faced；　smiling　man；　perhaps　of
  thirty…five；　took　me　to　the　pantry；　and　gave　me　a　glass　of　liqueur
  to　stay　me　until　dinner。　　We　had　some　talk；　or　rather　I　should　say
  he　listened　to　my　prattle　indulgently　enough；　but　with　an
  abstracted　air；　like　a　spirit　with　a　thing　of　clay。　　And　truly；
  when　I　remember　that　I　descanted　principally　on　my　appetite；　and
  that　it　must　have　been　by　that　time　more　than　eighteen　hours　since
  Father　Michael　had　so　much　as　broken　bread；　I　can　well　understand
  that　he　would　find　an　earthly　savour　in　my　conversation。　　But　his
  manner；　though　superior；　was　exquisitely　gracious；　and　I　find　I
  have　a　lurking　curiosity　as　to　Father　Michael's　past。
  The　whet　administered；　I　was　left　alone　for　a　little　in　the
  monastery　garden。　　This　is　no　more　than　the　main　court；　laid　out　in
  sandy　paths　and　beds　of　parti…coloured　dahlias；　and　with　a　fountain
  and　a　black　statue　of　the　Virgin　in　the　centre。　　The　buildings
  stand　around　it　four…square；　bleak；　as　yet　unseasoned　by　the　years
  and　weather；　and　with　no　other　features　than　a　belfry　and　a　pair　of
  slated　gables。　　Brothers　in　white；　brothers　in　brown；　passed
  silently　along　the　sanded　alleys；　and　when　I　first　came　out；　three
  hooded　monks　were　kneeling　on　the　terrace　at　their　prayers。　　A
  naked　hill　commands　the　monastery　upon　one　side；　and　the　wood
  commands　it　on　the　other。　　It　lies　exposed　to　wind；　the　snow　falls
  off　and　on　from　October　to　May；　and　sometimes　lies　six　weeks　on
  end；　but　if　they　stood　in　Eden；　with　a　climate　like　heaven's；　the
  buildings　themselves　would　offer　the　same　wintry　and　cheerless
  aspect；　and　for　my　part；　on　this　wild　September　day；　before　I　was
  called　to　dinner；　I　felt　chilly　in　and　out。
  When　I　had　eaten　well　and　heartily；　Brother　Ambrose；　a　hearty
  conversible　Frenchman　（for　all　those　who　wait　on　strangers　have　the
  liberty　to　speak）；　led　me　to　a　little　room　in　that　part　of　the
  building　which　is　set　apart　for　MM。　LES　RETRAITANTS。　　It　was　clean
  and　whitewashed；　and　furnished　with　strict　necessaries；　a　crucifix；
  a　bust　of　the　late　Pope；　the　IMITATION　in　French；　a　book　of
  religious　meditations；　and　the　LIFE　OF　ELIZABETH　SETON；　evangelist；
  it　would　appear；　of　North　America　and　of　New　England　in　particular。
  As　far　as　my　experience　goes；　there　is　a　fair　field　for　some　more
  evangelisation　in　these　quarters；　but　think　of　Cotton　Mather！　　I
  should　like　to　give　him　a　reading　of　this　little　work　in　heaven；
  where　I　hope　he　dwells；　but　perhaps　he　knows　all　that　already；　and
  much　more；　and　perhaps　he　and　Mrs。　Seton　are　the　dearest　friends；
  and　gladly　unite　their　voices　in　the　everlasting　psalm。　　Over　the
  table；　to　conclude　the　inventory　of　the　room；　hung　a　set　of
  regulations　for　MM。　LES　RETRAITANTS：　　what　services　they　should
  attend；　when　they　were　to　tell　their　beads　or　meditate；　and　when
  they　were　to　rise　and　go　to　rest。　　At　the　foot　was　a　notable　N。B。：
  'LE　TEMPS　LIBRE　EST　EMPLOYE　A　L'EXAMEN　DE　CONSCIENCE；　A　LA
  CONFESSION；　A　FAIRE　DE　BONNES　RESOLUTIONS；　ETC。'　　To　make　good
  resolutions；　indeed！　　You　might　talk　as　fruitfully　of　making　the
  hair　grow　on　your　head。
  I　had　scarce　explored　my　niche　when　Brother　Ambrose　returned。　　An
  English　boarder；　it　appeared；　would　like　to　speak　with　me。　　I
  professed　my　willingness；　and　the　friar　ushered　in　a　fresh；　young；
  little　Irishman　of　fifty；　a　deacon　of　the　Church；　arrayed　in　strict
  canonicals；　and　wearing　on　his　head　what；　in　default　of　knowledge；
  I　can　only　call　the　ecclesiastical　shako。　　He　had　lived　seven　years
  in　retreat　at　a　convent　of　nuns　in　Belgium；　and　now　five　at　Our
  Lady　of　the　Snows；　he　never　saw　an　English　newspaper；　he　spoke
  French　imperfectly；　and　had　he　spoken　it　like　a　native；　there　was
  not　much　chance　of　conversation　where　he　dwelt。　　With　this；　he　was
  a　man　eminently　sociable；　greedy　of　news；　and　simple…minded　like　a
  child。　　If　I　was　pleased　t