Year: 1876

wherein fifteen hundred spinsters dwell


amicably together like nuns, and YET
they are not nuns, as Independent OF
create US, the lords and masters Of the
hour. The Beguinage of Client is the
most important institution of the kind
in the country. Here seven hundred
AmaZons lodge within a little walled
city; here are streets and squares and
gates and moats crossed by six bridges,
and chapel as pretty as picture, and
a church besides. There are one hun
dred and three houses, many of them
inclosed within high walls like prisons.
Eighteen converts open their hospitable
doors to the younger members, and
look dreadfully like girls boarding
schools. In fact the whole Beguinage
seems like big playground where wo-
men who are tired of the world, the
flesh and the follies seek refuge and
play at being nuns. Itmust afford shell
ter to many a helpless soul that might
otherwise 90 to ruin. 1t certainly keeps
many hands busy and many hearts quiet,
for there is Mother Superior who has
the care of this big family, and there
are older sisters who know thing or
two, and who try to keep the
little ones from finding it out
too soon. For six or seven centuries
the singular retreat here remained
unmolested through wars and revolu-
tiOns. The inmates are subjected to
certain conventual regulations, but are
bound by no monastic vows. They say
that few who enter the Beguinages re-
turn again TO worldly life; they find
peace and profit in their religious duties,
their works of charity and their laces :;
moreover they are frequently visited by
outsiders who enliven the monotony of
their daily life with gossip and small
change. One morning | found myself
at the great gate of the Beguinages of
Client. A few candles were flaming at
the feet of large statue of the Madon-
ma; men, women, and children were
passing in and out through the open
gate, as busy as bees, and | naturally
| drifted into the current and was soon
| left by the wayside in narrow lane
| that separated two rows of small houses
facing each other and looking as prop
er as possible, for the houses were so
hidden behind high walls that only one
little window in the park of each had
the courage to squint at me. Being
alone, quite alone in this feminine
world, | hastily withdrew to one of the
chapels and speedily regained my cOur-
age. But there is no peace for fellow
! in the Beguinage These women have
it all their own way, and this is the way
| of one of them. She waited for me at
the chapel door and smiled on me,
when | again ventured forth. Would
/ see the house of the nun? asked the lit
tie sister. couldn't very well say nay,
so | merely blushed, and was led off by
the coat-sleeve as meekly as lamb.
| The little sister came to little
gate in one of the high walls


With a big key she unlocked it;
it was as solid as a safe-doOr; we
entered garden no bigger than Gro
quet plat-no, not half so big, but very
tidy and very lonesome. Ia one corner
was a kitchen and eating room about
the size of a dolls house. The little
sister and stuffed it quite full she in
the kitchen, and | in the dining-rOom
| Then we went into the main building,
where there were two rooms Just alike
on the ground floor. One was hers and
the other was that of a chum sister not
visible, probably out fishing for fellow
/ down in the chapel. There was moth
ing on the ground floor very exciting; a
few photographs of bishops and monks,
/ friends of the little sister; and on the
whole not bad-looking gentlemen. Hav-
| ing exhausted the ground floor, we went
up stairs. Little sister waited for me
to 60 first, though l hadn't the slightest
idea where / was likely to fetch up.
She needn't have been so particular /;
had meditated flight, it would have
availed me nothing, for the outer gate
was locked, and | could never in this
world have scaled that lofty wall Two
more little rooms on the next floor, with
a little bed in each, and a crucifx, and
a chair, and table, and a litter of lace
| in the corner. Little sister showed both
rooms as if they weren't Just alike, and
then wondered if | admired them? |
assured her that | did-but it doesn't
take long to admire thing, and start
ed for the stairs. Little sister obstructed
the way with a huge box of laces
would | buy, and thus bestOw charity
while took receipt for the same, as it
were? No, | would not; little sister
seemed to have an idea that correspon-
dents travel for the sole purpose
of gathering bales of costly laces,
and she gently insinuated that
''nOw was my time Again 1 swayed
toward the stairs, and | assured her that
| never wore lace-at least not while
travelling. She then produced family
of dolls dressed just like herself-queer
little nuns, on whose prim skirts you
may wipe your pen with impunity; dolls
like little martyrs, made expressly to
stick pins in, and yet other dolls, who
were neither useful nor ornamental.
That little sister labored with me for
half an hour before she was persuaded
that heaven had not sent me to buy her
out. By the way, wonder if she will
return to the world when she has at last
disposed of her wares? VIII she give
up the key of her small prison, say fare
well to the invisible chum who has the
other half of the house, and put off her
homely garb for the purple and linen
of swell life? One has always room for
a rosary, and a rosary / brought away
in memory of the artful little sister who
beguiled me into her cell in the Be-
guinage, and would have robbed me
had been robable. When found the
way clear, and in truth she seemed
rather anxious to be rid of me by this
time, my heart warmed and | ventured
a request: "Would she give me pho
tograph and lock of her hair?'' ooh,
no." with sigh which had touch of
worldliness in it. All, no! she had no
photos and her hair was false. Then
we clattered down stairs, and / was
ushered out of the strong gate, while
the little sister stood by dropping knee
deep courtesies and having a strange
twinkle in her eye that will puzzle me
to my dying day.