“In other words, like so many Russian men, you have gathered your information about Jesuits in the novel ‘The Eternal Jew.’”
“I have never read that novel. I only see very clearly that your dear Pater wants money for some convent, and therefore wants to shut you up in it.”
“Not in the least. Père Etienne thinks that I shall be happier in a convent than in the world. He has no objection to an Orthodox convent. He only told me, a few days ago, that he always speaks of Catholic ones, because he knows nothing about Russian convent life.”
“But why, then, do you not go into some Russian convent?”
“Because I know them too well. A Russian convent is a collection of vulgar, chattering, idle, lower-class women. The convent itself is a vulgar absurdity, since it is neither directed nor controlled by anybody. And, indeed, who is to control it? Not the officials of the Synod, I suppose?”
“Yes, but is not all that true also of Roman Catholic convents?”
“No. Every Catholic convent has not only its own head, but also higher control and direction. The discipline is quite different. Every Italian convent has one definite aim and object: to give its inmates the possibility of saving their souls in peace and silence, and everything is done for the attainment of this object.”
“Well, even if we admit that this is true—by what right do you turn your back on all that life imposes on you, and think of nobody and nothing but the saving of your own soul?”
“By what right!” exclaimed Irene in amazement. “What a strange question!”