like Socrates in his basket in the 'Clouds'! (I must read you that bit
of Aristophanes again, by the way.) And believe me, children, I am no
warped witness, as far as regards monasteries; or if I am, it is in
their favour. I have always had a strong leaning that way; and have
pensively shivered with Augustines at St. Bernard; and happily made hay
with Franciscans at Fesole; and sat silent with Carthusians in their
little gardens, south of Florence; and mourned through many a day-dream,
at Melrose and Bolton. But the wonder is always to me, not how much, but
how little, the monks have, on the whole, done, with all that leisure,
and all that goodwill! What nonsense monks characteristically
wrote;--what little progress they made in the sciences to which they
devoted themselves as a duty,--medicine especially;--and, last and
worst, what depths of degradation they can sometimes see one another,
and the population round them, sink into; without either doubting their
system, or reforming it!

(_Seeing questions rising to lips._) Hold your little tongues, children;
it's very late, and you'll make me forget what I've to say. Fancy
yourselves in pews, for five minutes. There's one point of possible good
in the conventual system, which is always attractive to young girls; and
the idea is a very dangerous one;--the notion of a merit, or exalting
virtue, consisting in a habit of meditation on the 'things above,' or
things of the next world. Now it is quite true, that a person of
beautiful mind, dwelling on whatever appears to them most desirable and
lovely in a possible future will not only pass their time pleasantly,
but will even acquire, at last, a vague and wildly gentle charm of
manner and feature, which will give them an air of peculiar sanctity in
the eyes of others. Whatever real or apparent good there may be in this
result, I want you to observe, children, that we have no real authority
for the reveries to which it is owing. We are told nothing distinctly of
the heavenly world; except that it will be free from sorrow, and pure
from sin. What is said of pearl gates, golden floors, and the like, is
accepted as merely figurative by religious enthusiasts themselves; and
whatever they pass their time in conceiving, whether of the happiness of
risen souls, of their intercourse, or of the appearance and employment
of the heavenly powers, is entirely the product of their own
imagination; and as completely and distinctly a work of f