he Forest, and that the sums realised by the sale of
this drug added materially to their revenues.

Next day both the Substitut and I were to be received by the Abbot. It
struck me as desirable that we should have our interviews separately,
for as the Substitut was making a "retreat," he might wish to say many
private things to the Abbot which he would not like me, a heretic, to
overhear. As soon as he had finished, I was ushered in alone to the
Abbot's parlour. I found the Abbot very dignified and very friendly,
but what possible subject of conversation could a Protestant youth of
seventeen find which would interest the Father Superior of a French
Monastery, presumably indifferent to everything that passed outside its
walls? Suddenly I had an inspiration: the Arian Heresy! We had had four
lessons on this interesting topic at Chittenden's five years earlier
(surely rather an advanced subject for little boys of twelve!), and
some of the details still stuck in my head. A brilliant idea! Soon we
were at it hammer and tongs; discussing Arius, Alexander, and
Athanasius; the Council of Nicaea, Hosius of Cordova, homo-ousion and
homoi-ousion; Eusebius of Nicomedia, and his namesake of Caesarea.

Without intending any disrespect to these two eminent Fathers of the
Church, the two Eusebius' always reminded me irresistibly of the two
Ajaxes of Offenbach's opera-bouffe. La Belle Helene, or, later on, of
the "Two Macs" of the music-hall stage of the "nineties." I blessed Mr.
Chittenden for having so thoughtfully provided me with conversational
small-change suitable for Abbots. The Abbot was, I think, a little
surprised at my theological lore. He asked me where I had acquired it,
and when I told him that it was at school, he presumed that I had been
at a seminary for youths destined for the priesthood, an idea which
would have greatly shocked the ultra-Evangelical Mr. Chittenden.

I was very glad that I had passed those three days at La Trappe, for it
gave one a glimpse into a wholly unsuspected world. The impression of
the tremendous severity with which the lives of the monks were
regulated, remained with me. The excellent monks made the most absurdly
small charges for our board and lodging. Years afterwards I spent a
night in an Orthodox Monastery in Russia, when I regretfully recalled
the scrupulous cleanliness of La Trappe. Never have I shared a couch
with so many uninvited guests, and never have I been so ruthlessly
devoured