so touching and Christian an epistle, that the latter at once threw himself at the feet of his preceptor, imploring the forgiveness of his fault: an anecdote no less creditable to the docility and frankness of the narrator than to the mingled firmness and gentleness of his monitor, especially when it is borne in mind that the Master in this case was greatly the junior of the Novice, and that the latter was, moreover, a man of considerable scholarship, and some literary attainments. Another incident in connection with Père Thomas-who is the vicar of the Abbot of Frigolet in both parish and convent -was when in tender and impassioned tones he addressed the parishioners of Conques from the churchyard Cross at the foot of which he stood bareheaded on a frosty All Souls' morning, after a three hours' dirge in the icy-cold church. Like himself, the people all kept uncovered, spite of the nipping frost, listening to their pastor's appeal for their suffrages on behalf of 'les âmes du purgatoire,' almost plaintive in its beseeching accents. And when, a few moments later, the writer sat opposite to him in the refectory (the Prior snatching a hurried breakfast of milk with a morsel of bread), it felt somewhat strange to be admitted thus intimately to the company of so bright a personification of the monastic ideal, such as it is, the guest himself at the same tine being an outsider

altogether beyond the Romanist pale, and impressed moreover with too keen a sense of its shortcomings to be troubled with any leanings that way. In fine, to sum up, Père Thomas may be fairly presented to the reader as a living example of the ideal or Saintly Monk.

On his right is Père X (for so we will call him), who suggests a different, though sufficiently numerous type of the claustral world. This class of recluse can hardly be said to entertain a very exalted ideal of the monastic life. It would seem neither to be penetrated over deeply by the ascetic spirit on the one hand, nor yet to transgress flagrantly in great things on the other. It leads, so to speak, a respectable existence, but yet not too self-denying in feeling or action. This shows itself in many ways according to the character of the person and the circumstances in which he happens to be placed. One will evince as little regard for a rigid adherence to fact as is apt to be found among men of the world. The courtesy of another is conspicuous by its absence. A third is too busied with his private pursuits to remember to keep choir. A fourth, with more warmth and bitterness than becomes a Christian minister, will lament that 'the Communists were not executed in greater numbers.' Trifling circumstances, moreover, will make the monk of the type in question lose his

equanimity, even in the presence of strangers. Thus Père X having chanced to be a little behind time for the midday meal, grace was said, after some moments' delay, according to custom, by the next to him in seniority. Now Père X, entering the refectory immediately afterwards, showed signs of irritation at not having been waited for ; and he even condescended to exclaim in a quaint idiom, and with a tinge of asperity, 'Cette prière peut bien avoir patience!' The same member of the fraternity, on another occasion, abruptly left the choir in the middle of Vespers, because annoyed by someone out of a very scanty congregation reciting the Psalms a trifle less rapidly than himself. In this procedure he was followed by his intimate friend, the Père Z, from whose lips the present writer (who had witnessed, not without surprise, the singular exodus) derived his information as to its cause. It was the more marked because on the occasion in question the attendance was exceptionally spare, owing to the absence of several brethren at the vintage, so that the choir was nearly denuded by this sudden defection of two of the number. Such as these may be described as types of the Easy-going Monk. It is noteworthy that this unceremonious exit occurred in the absence of the Prior, which suggests the reflection that the too frequent remissness in attend

ing choir shown by superiors of religious houseseven by such as are in other respects the most exemplary-is a fact that does not conduce to the maintenance of monastic discipline.

Another and very different type of character is presented by such a man as the Père Bonaventure. Hardly so young as the majority of candidates for holy orders, he is nevertheless but a deacon, preparing for the priesthood. His office of bursar, as well as custodian of the keys of the convent gate, sufficiently attests the confidence reposed in his vigilance and integrity; and, though holding so active and practical an employment, and one involving a good deal of business details, his words, tones, and whole demeanour seem to indicate a mind imbued with not a little of the religious spirit. There is about him that outward savour of saintliness which consistent holiness, coupled with entire self-mastery, appears to beget in some favoured souls. In a previous case-that of Père Thomas d'Aquin-we have seen the saintly character united with the strength and vigour becoming the office of Prior. In the present instance, the observer has before him a personification of Christian humility and gentleness: a realization, in fact, of the type of Christianity suggested by the words of the Gospel, 'Blessed are the meek : blessed are the poor in spirit.' Sedulous in matters

of business, yet of imperturbably mild manners and address; full of charitable interest in all that concerns the well-being of others; a man of prayer and mortified spirit, he might have been sketched by a painter in quest of a model for a Christian Saint, as on that All Souls' day he paced down the nave of Ste.-Foy de Conques by the side of the Prior, engaged in the time-honoured ceremonial observances around the catafalque or lofty bier to be seen in foreign churches on this festival. With a countenance rather plain than otherwise, yet suffused with an expression of inward peace-a lowly bearing mingled with the natural dignity of a mind in harmony with itself—you scan a head and face and port that might serve for a St. Francis of Assisi, or a Paul of the Cross; or rather, as these two white-clad recluses, with shaven crowns, walked together in measured tread down the crowded nave of the Romanesque church-each suggesting a somewhat different type of the ascetic character-it might strike you that they could almost stand for living portraits of the two famous mediæval heroes whose names they respectively bear-the 'Angelic Doctor,' Thomas Aquinas, and the 'Seraphic' St. Bonaventure.

At the table on the left sits Frère Raphael. Neither priest nor lay brother, he has nevertheless received the tonsure,-a badge of his admission to