Scenes in French Monasteries. By Algernon Taylor. (Charles J. Skeet.)—Mr.
Taylor is already known to the reading public as the author of a book called Convent Life in .11.4. His present work is an equally careful study of the great religious houses of France. Its calm- ness and impartiality recommend it to all classes, and even Exeter Hall will be disarmed by finding a good word uttered for it in regard to its treatment of coloured races, and notably of Jamaica. At first it was rather difficult to tell whether Mr. Taylor was a Protestant or an old Catholic. We found sentiments in his pages which could hardly proceed from a downright champion of liberty. But when he called the ages of faith "those lawless times" our doubts began to subside, and his account of his visit to the Grande Chartreuse with his wife, and of the objections made to lodging "une dame Protestante " for more than a night, set them finally at rest. It may seem strange that a Protestant should be so curious about monastic life as to pass such a long time with the monks, to rise at midnight in order to join with them in their matins, and to limit himself to the fleshless fare accorded even to strangers. But the result is that Mr. Taylor's book is curious and valuable. He analyzes closely the daily life of the inmates of the various monasteries he visited. So far as we can judge, he seems to
have been admitted to witness what must have been a painful ceremony, the flagellation of the Passionists. True, this ceremony takes place by utter darkness, but the sounds must be sufficiently horrible. "Your ears are assailed," Mr. Taylor says, "by the simultaneous crack- ing of a medley of whips, whose thongs beat the air with quickly repeated blows, and beat, too, something more solid than air, in the
shape of the monks' own person The whisk, whisk of the corded thongs mingles with and almost overpowers the doleful Miserere chant." Mr. Taylor was shown one of the instruments of torture, whicix was a whip of several twisted lashes, each nearly as thick as a man's little finger, and all besmeared with blood. But for the blood, one would be tempted to hope that the Passionists took advantage of the darkness to imitate Sancho Panza's self-flagellation in the forest. As for the food or various orders, the lowest dietary seems that of the Trappists. They ab- stain altogether from meat, eggs, batter, flab, and oil, and are practically reduced to a regimen of vegetables, cheese, milk, and fruit, with bread and wine of the country. For more than half the year they are limited. to one meal in the twenty-four hours. This one meal consists of a por- tion of aonp and, a dish of vegetables, twelve ounces of bread, and nearly a pint of common wine, besides s little fruit for dessert. On this diet they have to spend several hours a day in hard manual work, to per- form long choral services, and to rise at midnight for matins. AU the monks unite in bearing testimony to the wakefulness that follows upon matins; and they have scarcely got to sleep on their hard straw beds before the bell tolls for prime, at five in the morning. Mr. Taylor gives many instances of the trials to which monks are subjected in order to prove their humility. Passaglia lying prostrate across the refectory threshold during dinner, that all comers might step over him, is not at pleasing spectacle. And we should think a highly instructed monk, of good family and polished manners, who was going, too, to preach that. afternoon, might be better employed than in waiting on guests at dinner. Stories of this kind may be found in abundance in Mr. Taylor's volume,. and if Englishmen will conquer their natural intolerance and contempt, they will find the book entertaining as well as edifying.
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