Remember that, when my appeal becomes
public, all these circumstances will become so too, and you are to judge
what degree of credit they will attach to the community.” “Retire!” I
did so, and found my application attended to, at least with regard to
food, but my cell remained in the same dismantled state, and I continued
under the same desolating interdiction from all communion, religious or
social. I assure you, with truth, that so horrible was this amputation
from life to me, that I have walked hours in the cloister and the
passages, to place myself in the way of the monks, who, I knew, as they
passed, would bestow on me some malediction or reproachful epithet. Even
this was better than the withering silence which surrounded me. I began
almost to receive it as a customary salutation, and always returned it
with a benediction. In a fortnight my appeal was to be decided on; this
was a circumstance I was kept in ignorance of, but the Superior had
received a notification of it, and this precipitated his resolution to
deprive me of the benefit of its eventual success, by one of the most
horrible schemes that ever entered the human (I retract the expression)
the monastic heart. I received an indistinct intimation of it the very
night after my application to the Superior; but had I been apprised,
from the first, of the whole extent and bearings of their purpose, what
resources could I have employed against it? “That evening I had gone into the garden; my heart felt unusually
oppressed. Its thick troubled beatings, seemed like the vibrations of a
time-piece, as it measures our approach to some hour of sorrow. “It was twilight; the garden was empty; and kneeling on the ground, in
the open air, (the only oratory they had left me), I attempted to pray. The attempt was in vain;--I ceased to articulate sounds that had no
meaning--and, overcome by a heaviness of mind and body inexpressible, I
fell on the ground, and remained extended on my face, torpid, but not
senseless. Two figures passed, without perceiving me; they were in
earnest conversation. One of them said, “More vigorous measures must be
adopted. You are to blame to delay them so long. You will be answerable
for the disgrace of the whole community, if you persist in this foolish
lenity.”--“But his resolution remains unbroken,” said the Superior, (for
it was he).--“It will not be proof against the measure I have
proposed.”--“He is in your hands then; but remember I will not be
accountable for----” They were by this time out of hearing. I was less
terrified than you will believe, by what I had heard. Those who have
suffered much, are always ready to exclaim, with the unfortunate Agag,
“Surely the bitterness of death is past.” They know not, that that is
the very moment when the sword is unsheathed to hew them in pieces. That
night, I had not been long asleep, when I was awoke by a singular noise
in my cell: I started up, and listened. I thought I heard some one hurry
away barefooted. I knew I had no lock to my door, and could not prevent
the intrusion of any one into my cell who pleased to visit it; but still
I believed the discipline of the convent too strict to allow of this. I
composed myself again, but was hardly asleep, when I was again awoke by
something that touched me. I started up again; a soft voice near me said
in whispers, “Compose yourself; I am your friend.”--“My friend? Have I
one?--but why visit me at this hour?”--“It is the only hour at which I
am permitted to visit you.”--“But who are you, then?”--“One whom these
walls can never exclude. One to whom, if you devote yourself, you may
expect services beyond the power of man.”--There was something frightful
in these words. I cried out, “Is it the enemy of souls that is tempting
me?” As I uttered these words, a monk rushed in from the passage, (where
he had been evidently waiting, for his dress was on). He exclaimed,
“What is the matter? You have alarmed me by your cries,--you pronounced
the name of the infernal spirit,--what have you seen? what is it you
fear?” I recovered myself, and said, “I have seen or heard nothing
extraordinary. I have had frightful dreams, that is all. Ah! Brother St
Joseph, no wonder, after passing such days, my nights should be
disturbed.”

“The monk retired, and the next day passed as usual; but at night the
same whispering sounds awoke me again. The preceding night these sounds
had only startled me; they now alarmed me. In the darkness of night, and
the solitude of my cell, this repeated visitation overcame my spirits. I
began almost to admit the idea that I was exposed to the assaults of the
enemy of man. I repeated a prayer, but the whisper, which seemed close
to my ear, still continued. It said, “Listen,--listen to me, and be
happy. Renounce your vows, place yourself under my protection, and you
shall have no cause to complain of the exchange. Rise from your bed,
trample on the crucifix which you will find at the foot of it, spit on
the picture of the Virgin that lies beside it, and----” At these words I
could not suppress a cry of horror. The voice ceased in a moment, and
the same monk, who occupied the cell next to mine, rushed in with the
same exclamations as on the preceding night; and, as he entered my cell,
the light in his hand shewed a crucifix, and a picture of the blessed
Virgin, _placed_ at the foot of my bed. I had sprung up when the monk
entered my cell; I saw them, and recognized them to be the very crucifix
and picture of the Virgin which had been taken from my cell. All the
hypocritical outcries of the monk, at the disturbance I had again caused
him, could not efface the impression which this slight circumstance made
on me. I believed, and not without reason, they had been left there by
the hands of some human tempter. I started, awake to this horrible
imposition, and required the monk to leave my cell. He demanded, with a
frightful paleness in his looks, why I had again disturbed him? said it
was impossible to obtain repose while such noises were occurring in my
cell; and, finally, stumbling over the crucifix and picture, demanded
how they came there. I answered, “You know best.”--“How, then, do you
accuse me of a compact with the infernal demon? By what means could
these have been brought to your cell?”--“By the very hands that removed
them,” I answered; and these words appeared to produce an effect on him
for a moment; but he retired, declaring, that if the nightly disturbance
in my cell continued, he must represent it to the Superior. I answered,
the disturbance did not proceed from me,--but I trembled for the
following night. “I had reason to tremble. That night, before I lay down, I repeated
prayer after prayer, the terrors of my excommunication pressing heavy on
my soul. I also repeated the prayers against possession or temptation by
the evil spirit. These I was compelled to utter from memory, for I have
told you that they had not left a book in my cell.