A few words more.
We blame the church when she is saturated with intrigues， we despise the spiritual which is harsh toward the temporal; but we everywhere honor the thoughtful man.
We salute the man who kneels.
A faith; this is a necessity for man. Woe to him who believes nothing.
One is not unoccupied because one is absorbed. There is visible labor and invisible labor.
To contemplate is to labor， to think is to act.
Folded arms toil， clasped hands work. A gaze fixed on heaven is a work.
Thales remained motionless for four years. He founded philosophy.
In our opinion， cenobites are not lazy men， and recluses are not idlers.
To meditate on the Shadow is a serious thing.
Without invalidating anything that we have just said， we believe that a perpetual memory of the tomb is proper for the living. On this point， the priest and the philosopher agree. We must die. The Abbe de la Trappe replies to Horace.
To mingle with one's life a certain presence of the sepulchre，-- this is the law of the sage; and it is the law of the ascetic. In this respect， the ascetic and the sage converge. There is a material growth; we admit it. There is a moral grandeur; we hold to that. Thoughtless and vivacious spirits say:--
"What is the good of those motionless figures on the side of mystery? What purpose do they serve? What do they do?"
Alas! In the presence of the darkness which environs us， and which awaits us， in our ignorance of what the immense dispersion will make of us， we reply: "There is probably no work more divine than that performed by these souls." And we add: "There is probably no work which is more useful."
There certainly must be some who pray constantly for those who never pray at all.
In our opinion the whole question lies in the amount of thought that is mingled with prayer.
Leibnitz praying is grand， Voltaire adoring is fine. Deo erexit Voltaire.
We are for religion as against religions.
We are of the number who believe in the wretchedness of orisons， and the sublimity of prayer.
Moreover， at this minute which we are now traversing，--a minute which will not， fortunately， leave its impress on the nineteenth century，-- at this hour， when so many men have low brows and souls but little elevated， among so many mortals whose morality consists in enjoyment， and who are busied with the brief and misshapen things of matter， whoever exiles himself seems worthy of veneration to us.
The monastery is a renunciation. Sacrifice wrongly directed is still sacrifice. To mistake a grave error for a duty has a grandeur of its own.
Taken by itself， and ideally， and in order to examine the truth on all sides until all aspects have been impartially exhausted， the monastery， the female convent in particular，--for in our century it is woman who suffers the most， and in this exile of the cloister there is something of protestation，--the female convent has incontestably a certain majesty.
This cloistered existence which is so austere， so depressing， a few of whose features we have just traced， is not life， for it is not liberty; it is not the tomb， for it is not plenitude; it is the strange place whence one beholds， as from the crest of a lofty mountain， on one side the abyss where we are， on the other， the abyss whither we shall go; it is the narrow and misty frontier separating two worlds， illuminated and obscured by both at the same time， where the ray of life which has become enfeebled is mingled with the vague ray of death; it is the half obscurity of the tomb.
We， who do not believe what these women believe， but who， like them， live by faith，--we have never been able to think without a sort of tender and religious terror， without a sort of pity， that is full of envy， of those devoted， trembling and trusting creatures， of these humble and august souls， who dare to dwell on the very brink of the mystery， waiting between the world which is closed and heaven which is not yet open， turned towards the light which one cannot see， possessing the sole happiness of thinking that they know where it is， aspiring towards the gulf， and the unknown， their eyes fixed motionless on the darkness， kneeling， bewildered， stupefied， shuddering， half lifted， at times， by the deep breaths of eternity.
还有几句话。
我们谴责充满阴谋的教会，蔑视政权的教权，但是我们处处尊崇那种思考问题的人。
我们向跪着的人致敬。
信仰，为人所必须。什么也不信的人不会有幸福。
人并不因为潜心静思而成为无所事事的人。有有形的劳动和无形的劳动。
静观，这是劳动，思想，这是行动。交叉着的胳膊能工作，合拢了的手掌能有所作为。注视苍穹也是一种业绩。
泰勒斯①静坐四年，他奠定了哲学。
①泰勒斯（Thalès），第一个有史可考的古希腊哲学的代表，自发唯物主义米和都学派的奠基者，生于公元前六世纪。
在我们看来，静修者不是游手好闲的人，违世遁俗的人也不是懒汉。
神游窈冥昏默之乡是一件严肃的事。
如果不故意歪曲我们刚才所说的那些话，我们认为对坟墓念念不忘，这对世人是适当的。在这一点上，神甫和哲学家的见解是一致的。“人都有一死。”特拉帕苦修会①的修院院长和贺拉斯②所见略同。
生不忘死，那是先哲的法则，也是苦修僧的法则。在这方面，修士和哲人的见解一致。
物质的繁荣，我们需要，意识的崇高，我们坚持。
心浮气躁的人说：
“那些一动不动待在死亡边缘上的偶像要他们干什么？他们有什么用？他们干些什么？”
唉！围绕我们和等待我们的是一团黑暗，我们也不知道那无边的散射将怎样对待我们，因此我们回答：“也许那些人的建树是无比卓绝的。”而且我们还得补充一句：“也许没有更为有效的工作了。”
总得有这么一些人来为不肯祈祷的人不停地祈祷。
我们认为问题的关健在于蕴藏在祈祷中的思想的多少。
祈祷中的莱布尼茨③是伟大的，崇拜中的伏尔泰是壮美的。“伏尔泰仰望上帝。”
①特拉帕苦修会（la Trappe），天主教隐修院修会之一，一六六四年建立。
②贺拉斯（Horace），纪元前一世纪罗马著名诗人。
③莱布尼茨（Leibnitz，1646?716），伟大的德国数学家、唯心主义哲学家。
我们为保护宗教而反对各种宗教。
我们相信经文的空洞和祈祷的卓越。
此外，在我们现在所处的这一会儿棗这一幸而没留下该会规章十分严格，主张终身素食，永久缄口，只以手势示意，足不出院，故有“哑巴会”和“苦修会”之称。
十九世纪痕迹的一会儿，这多少人低着头鼓不起劲的一会儿，在这充满以享乐为荣、以追求短促无聊的物质享受为急务的行尸走肉的环境中，凡是离群遁世的人总是可敬的。修院是退让的地方，意义不明的自我牺牲总还是牺牲。把一种严重的错误当作天职来奉行，这自有它的伟大之处。
如果我们把修院，尤其是女修院棗因为在我们的社会里，妇女受苦最深，并且在那种与世隔绝的修院生活里，也有隆重的诺言棗置于真理的光中，用理想的尺度，就其本质，从各个角度加以公正和彻底的分析，我们便会感到妇女的修院，无可否认，确有其庄严的地方。
我们指出了一鳞半爪的那种极其严峻惨淡的修院生涯，那不是人生，因为没有自由，也不是坟墓，因为还不圆满，那是一种奇特的场所，在那里人们有如置身高山之巅，朝这一面可以望见我们现在所处的世界，朝另一面又可以望见我们即将前往的世界，那是两个世界接壤的狭窄地带，那里雾霭茫茫，依稀隐现在两个世界之中，生命的残晖和死亡的冥色交相辉映，这是墓中半明半暗的光。
至于我们，虽不相信这些妇女所信之事物，却也和她们一样是生活在信仰中的，当我们想到这些心惊胆战而又充满信心和诚意的女性，这些谦卑严肃的心灵，她们敢于生活在神秘世界的边缘，守在已经谢绝的人世和尚未开放的天国之间，朝着那看不见的光辉，仅凭心中一点所谓自知之明而引为无上幸福，一心向往着万仞深渊和未知世界，两眼注视着毫无动静的黑暗，双膝下跪，胸中激动，惊愕，战栗，有时一阵来自太空的长风把她们吹得飘飘欲起，当我们想到那些情形时，总不免愀然动容，又惊又敬，如见神明，悲悯和钦羡之情油然而起。
