thirty-fourth of his religious profession. He presided over his monastery as Abbot for ten years; his health, which had been gradually failing, yielded at last to dropsy. His death was calm and hopeful, amidst the prayers and tears of his beloved children, who had need only to mourn for the loss to themselves; they could but rejoice for the departure to his eternal rest of their kind and good superior. During the first year of the Trappists on the bleak moor, Prior Vincent was the frequent guest of his noble benefactors, Sir Richard and Lady Keane; and to many who met him in that home he proved that his years of silence had not taken away his conversational powers, for no one could express himself more fluently, or as if always living in daily interchange of ideas with his fellows. It is impossible to touch the subject of monasticism without rubbing off some of the dust which has been heaped on it. It is also impossible to get even a superficial knowledge of the mediaval history of Europe without seeing how greatly the world of that period was indebted to the monastic orders; feeling that, whether they were good or bad in other ways, monasteries were beyond all price in days of misrule and turbulence, as places where (it may be imperfectly, yet better than elsewhere) GOD was worshipped; as a quiet and religious refuge for helpless infancy and old age, a shelter of respectful sympathy for the orphan maiden and desolate widow; as central points whence agriculture was to spread over bleak hills and barren downs and marshy plains, to deal bread to millions perishing with hunger and its pestilential train; as repositories of any learning that then was known and well-springs for the learning that was to come; as nurseries of art and science, giving the stimulus, the means, and the reward to invention, and collecting around them every head that could devise and every hand that could execute. The monastery of La Trappe, which has acquired such a mysterious celebrity, and given the name to the severest order of monks, is one of the most ancient abbeys of the Benedictines. It was first established under the pontificate of Innocent II., during the reign of Louis VII., in the year 1140, by Rotrou, second Count de Perche, and founded under the auspices of Bernard, first Abbot of Clairvaux, the famed preacher for the Crusades. Rotrou, when in peril of shipwreck, made a vow if ever he saw his native hills again he would found a monastery in gratitude to GOD forhis safety. La Trappe was the fulfilment of this vow, and in comme moration of this circumstance the roof was made in the shape of the bottom of a ship inverted. The Abbey of La Trappe is about twenty-five miles from Mortagne, in the forest of Bellegarde, and province of Perche. The province is divided from Normandy by a range of hills, intersected by ravines. In one of these, between the towns of Seez and Mortagne, lies the monastery which has acquired such celebrity. The real distance was short, but for all purposes of human communication it was as far removed as if hundreds of miles lay between. Nature had surrounded it with hills and woods, as if resolved to shut out all intercourse with life. The spirited traveller who succeeded in passing the rocky barrier was still prevented gaining access to the monastery by a chain of small lakes that encircled it, like the moat of a castle. They could only be crossed in safety with an experienced guide. After getting through the perils of the dark forest, a steep, labyrinthlike path winds down into the valley, with the three lakes connected with each other and forming a moat. In the centre one stands the Abbey of La Trappe, with its dark grey towers. The situation suggested the name it originally received of La Trappe, from the intricacy of way either to it or out of it. In descending the steep, dark, and wooded path, the traveller loses sight of the Abbey until he has reached the end. There could not be a spot better calculated to inspire religious awe-the total solitude, the undisturbed, almost chilling silence that seemed to reign over all around. The woods looked as if their leaves were too heavy to rustle. The wild water-fowls' notes and the rush of water from the hills were the only sounds to break the awful stillness, except at the stated hours for prayer, when the booming sound of the monastery bell sounded and was echoed. All well calculated to promote an utter seclusion, even hopeless separation from life, and peculiarly fitted to court the sternest sort of devotion. Although founded by holy men-and no doubt many of the Trappists lived and died no disgrace to their vows or life-yet by degrees they quite fell away from any holiness and became immersed in luxury and sloth, most of them living by robbery and assassination, and spoiling any unfortunate traveller who, unsuspectingly, entered the dark woods surrounding the Abbey. Instead of the brethren of La Trappe, they were for a time known more as the "banditti" of La Trappe, the terror for miles around to the district. Such were the men, and such the abode, that the noble Armand John le Bouthillier de Rancé resolved to make his companions and his home. We can remember many great names and reformers of the Church in every age and every country, but for our present sketch need only dwell on the name of De Rancé, the celebrated reformer-not the founder of the strict order of La Trappe. When he set about this work, the mind and body, so to speak, of this community were alike in ruins, following no holy rules, and solely guided by their fierce passions. He was born in 1626, of parents who held high rank amongst the nobility of France. His father was private secretary to Mary de Medicis. De Rancé was called Armand Jean after his godfather, the celebrated Cardinal Richelieu. To the advantages of illustrious birth were united great natural gifts, and he received the very best education Paris could afford suitable to his abilities. When quite a boy he published some poems with annotations in Greek. He was a great favourite at court, and became almoner to the Duke of Orleans. Yet amid all he felt so sure that his soul could never find repose, save in serving GOD in retirement, that he resigned all the seductions and the brilliancy of his position, saying, "I sigh for a peace I cannot find in the world." His sacrifice was a complete one. He at once resigned all his glittering prospects, and gave up his many benefices (which he held "in commendam") except the poorest, the most unhealthy, the least known and accessible—the Abbey of La Trappe. Amongst some of the many reasons given for De Rancé's quitting a position for which he was so well fitted, is one which most likely was the real cause. He was much attached to a lady, from whom he was separated by her parents' command, but she had written to beg of him to remove her for the purpose of their marriage, and her stated determination to share his fortune. He set off soon after receiving this communication, but ere he reached her abode she had died of smallpox. Totally ignorant of this terrible fact he approached the house under cover of the night, and got into her apartment through the window, when the first object that met his eyes was the leaden coffin containing the body of his beloved; the coffin being made too short they had the brutality to sever her head from her body. Horror-struck with the shocking sight, and quite overcome with sorrow and despair, he fled from the house; and it is supposed from that hour he renounced all connection with the world, and imposed upon himself the most rigid austerities. In 1660, at the time he undertook the superintendence, as well as the reformation of La Trappe, it presented a melancholy pictnre of declension, and it is very interesting to follow the steps by which he effected so wonderful a change, and induced many to enter on a mode of life so different from the common ways of thinking and feeling. His friends endeavoured, but in vain, to dissuade him from an undertaking alike deemed hopeless and dangerous; but unarmed and unassisted, save by GOD and His HOLY SPIRIT's guidance, he went alone into a company of ruffians, every one of whom was bent on his destruction. With undaunted boldness he began by proposing the strictest reform, and, not for one moment counting his life dear to him, he described the full intent of his purpose, leaving them no choice but "obedience" or "expulsion." Many were the dangers De Rancé underwent; plans laid at various times to poison him, to waylay him, and assassinate, even one of his monks shot direct at him, but by God's aid the shot missed fire. All these plans were frustrated by the shield of divine protection in which he trusted, and his unceasing prayer to the One all powerful in heaven and earth. Slowly, but surely, De Rancé not only brought his reform to bear fruit, but several of his most violent persecutors became his warmest friends and adherents, many being won over by his sincere piety; a few of the most violent left the monastery; the monk who shot at him became eminently noted for his deep piety, and was afterwards subprior of La Trappe. Monsieur De Rancé lived for forty years at the head of his singular community, in this, the most strange of all their abodes, the gloomy, the almost inaccessible monastery, which, from its strange position, gives the name to the order. To his last moment De Rancé was distinguished for his humility and piety, and the excess of self-denial and discipline that he imposed on the order (surprising as it may appear in the present age) has increased, not decreased, the numbers seeking admission to a brotherhood whose rules impose a perpetual violence on every natural human feeling. In the centre of the cemetery at La Trappe may be seen his grave, with the following: Arm. Le Bouthillier de Rancé Et célèbre Abbé Reformateur de La Trappe. Et de 40 ans de la plus austère penitence. De Rancé wrote in his solitude many volumes, chiefly rules for the Abbey, with the lives and deaths of some of the order. Their entire separation from human intercourse, their rigid silence, and terrible severity are more like fiction than actual realities. At the time of the French Revolution the Trappists shared the fate of dissolution with all the other various orders of religion in France. Scattered over many countries, some sought and found protection in England, settling in Dorsetshire under the protection, and with the benevolent assistance, of one whose name must stand high in God's register as well as man's, the late Mr. Weld, of Lullworth Castle, of whom and his family, with their noble kindness to the dispersed Trappists, we must take a short notice before ending this account of “The Silent Home." While the brotherhood were dispersed through the ravages of war, arrangements were making to send some out to Canada. The day for sailing had come, and the little colony were praying that God would direct their embarkation, when, before the appointed hour, the vessel weighed anchor and left them behind. This they considered an evident indication that GOD intended their home to be in England, so they gladly and at once closed with the generous offers of Thomas Weld, the noble proprietor of Lullworth Castle. There was a small building in the park at Lullworth, so the little band were granted permission to take possession and reside there until a more suitable monastery could be constructed. Soon after they accepted of Mr. Weld's offer of residing in his park, the following words appeared in a local newspaper : "We have been asked who we are and whence we come? Our answer is short and simple. We are true Cistercian monks of the order of La Trappe,' in France, which we have been compelled to leave, and we have come to England in the hope of obtaining an abode in which we may dwell in peace and silence; this is our whole design. We have no aim, no wish beyond a quiet home; if this be denied to us we can turn to Canada, where some of our order have already found a home amid the forests and the uncultivated districts of that country." |