“There is no doubt that I should have seen light much sooner if I had not laboured under so many prejudices.  There was in my mind a curtain dividing truth from error, and reason alone could draw it aside, but that poor reason—­I had been taught to fear it, to repulse it, as if its bright flame would have devoured, instead of enlightening me.  The moment it was proved to me that a reasonable being ought to be guided only by his own inductions I acknowledged the sway of reason, and the mist which hid truth from me was dispelled.  The evidence of truth shone before my eyes, nonsensical trifles disappeared, and I have no fear of their resuming their influence over my mind, for every day it is getting stronger; and I may say that I only began to love God when my mind was disabused of priestly superstitions concerning Him.”

“I congratulate you; you have been more fortunate than I, for you have made more progress in one year than I have made in ten.”

“Then you did not begin by reading the writings of Lord Bolingbroke?  Five or six months ago, I was reading La Sagesse, by Charron, and somehow or other my confessor heard of it; when I went to him for confession, he took upon himself to tell me to give up reading that book.  I answered that my conscience did not reproach me, and that I could not obey him.  ‘In that case,’ replied he, ‘I will not give you absolution.’  ’That will not prevent me from taking the communion,’ I said.  This made him angry, and, in order to know what he ought to do, he applied to Bishop Diedo.  His eminence came to see me, and told me that I ought to be guided by my confessor.  I answered that we had mutual duties to perform, and that the mission of a priest in the confessional was to listen to me, to impose a reasonable penance, and to give me absolution; that he had not even the right of offering me any advice if I did not ask for it.  I added that the confessor being bound to avoid scandal, if he dared to refuse me the absolution, which, of course, he could do, I would all the same go to the altar with the other nuns.  The bishop, seeing that he was at his wit’s end, told the priest to abandon me to my conscience.  But that was not satisfactory to me, and my lover obtained a brief from the Pope authorizing me to go to confession to any priest I like.  All the sisters are jealous of the privilege, but I have availed myself of it only once, for the sake of establishing a precedent and of strengthening the right by the fact, for it is not worth the trouble.  I always confess to the same priest, and he has no difficulty in giving me absolution, for I only tell him what I like.”

“And for the rest you absolve yourself?”

“I confess to God, who alone can know my thoughts and judge the degree of merit or of demerit to be attached to my actions.”

Our conversation shewed me that my lovely friend was what is called a Free-thinker; but I was not astonished at it, because she felt a greater need of peace for her conscience than of gratification for her senses.