Men unite themselves and dwell in communities. By virtue of what right? By virtue of the right of association.

They shut themselves up at home. By virtue of what right? By virtue of the right which every man has to open or shut his door.

They do not come forth. By virtue of what right? By virtue of the right to go and come， which implies the right to remain at home.

There， at home， what do they do?

They speak in low tones; they drop their eyes; they toil. They renounce the world， towns， sensualities， pleasures， vanities， pride， interests. They are clothed in coarse woollen or coarse linen. Not one of them possesses in his own right anything whatever. On entering there， each one who was rich makes himself poor. What he has， he gives to all. He who was what is called noble， a gentleman and a lord， is the equal of him who was a peasant. The cell is identical for all. All undergo the same tonsure， wear the same frock， eat the same black bread， sleep on the same straw， die on the same ashes. The same sack on their backs， the same rope around their loins. If the decision has been to go barefoot， all go barefoot. There may be a prince among them; that prince is the same shadow as the rest. No titles. Even family names have disappeared. They bear only first names. All are bowed beneath the equality of baptismal names. They have dissolved the carnal family， and constituted in their community a spiritual family. They have no other relatives than all men. They succor the poor， they care for the sick. They elect those whom they obey. They call each other "my brother."

You stop me and exclaim， "But that is the ideal convent!"

It is sufficient that it may be the possible convent， that I should take notice of it.

Thence it results that， in the preceding book， I have spoken of a convent with respectful accents. The Middle Ages cast aside， Asia cast aside， the historical and political question held in reserve， from the purely philosophical point of view， outside the requirements of militant policy， on condition that the monastery shall be absolutely a voluntary matter and shall contain only consenting parties， I shall always consider a cloistered community with a certain attentive， and， in some respects， a deferential gravity.

Wherever there is a community， there is a commune; where there is a commune， there is right. The monastery is the product of the formula: Equality， Fraternity. Oh! how grand is liberty! And what a splendid transfiguration! Liberty suffices to transform the monastery into a republic.

Let us continue.

But these men， or these women who are behind these four walls. They dress themselves in coarse woollen， they are equals， they call each other brothers， that is well; but they do something else?

Yes.

What?

They gaze on the darkness， they kneel， and they clasp their hands.

What does this signify?

一些人聚集拢来，住在一起。凭什么权利？凭结社的权利。

他们闭门幽居。凭什么权利？凭每人都有的那种开门或关门的权利。

他们不出门。凭什么权利？凭每人都有的来和去的权利，这里也就包含了待在自己屋里的权利。

他们待在自己的屋里干些什么？

他们低声说话，他们眼睛向下，他们工作。他们放弃社交、城市、感官的享受、快乐、虚荣、傲气和利益。他们穿粗呢或粗布。他们中的任何人没有任何财物。进了那扇大门后有钱人都自动地变成穷人。他把自己所有的东西分给大家。当初被称作贵族、世家子、大人的人和当初被称作乡下佬的人，现在都一律平等。每个人的静室都完全一模一样。大家都剃同样的发式，穿同样的僧衣，吃同样的黑面包，睡在同样的麦秸上，死在同样的柴灰上。背上背一个同样的口袋，腰上围一条同样的绳子。如果决定要赤脚走路，大家便一齐赤着脚走。其中也许有个王子，王子和其他的人一样也是个影子。不再有什么头衔，连姓也没有了。他们只有名字。大家都在洗名的平等前低下头去。他们离开了家庭骨肉，在修会里组成了精神方面的家庭。除了整个人类，他们没有其他亲人。他们帮助穷人，他们照顾病人，他们选举自己服从的人，他们彼此以友朋相称。

你拖住我，兴奋地说：“这才真是理想的修院呢！”

只要那是可能存在的修院，就足已使我加以重视了。

因此，在前一卷书里，我曾以尊敬的口吻谈到一个修院的情况。除了中世纪，除了亚洲，在保留历史和政治问题之后，从纯哲学观点出发，站在宗教争论的束缚之外，处在进修院绝对出自志愿、完全基于协议的情况下，我对修道团体就能以关切严肃的态度相待，甚至在某些方面以尊敬的态度相待。凡有团体的地方都有共同生活，有共同生活的地方也都有权利。修院是从“平等、博爱”这样一个公式里产生的。啊！自由真伟大！

转变真灿烂！自由已足使修院转变为共和国。

让我们继续谈下去。

可是这些男人，这些妇女，住在四堵高墙里，穿着棕色粗呢服，彼此平等，以兄弟姊妹相称，这很好，不过他们是否还做旁的事呢？

做。

做些什么？

他们注视着黑影，他们双膝跪下，两手合十。

那是什么意思？