“I feared my destiny was to be the former. I knew nothing of the Bishop, and hoped nothing from his visit; but my hopes began to rise in proportion to the visible fears of the society. I argued, with the natural malignity of wretchedness, “If they tremble, I may exult.” When suffering is thus weighed against suffering, the hand is never steady; we are always disposed to make the balance incline a little on our own side. The Bishop came early, and passed some hours with the Superior in his own apartment. During this interval, there was a stillness in the house that was strongly contrasted with its previous agitation. I stood alone in my cell,--_stood_, for I had no seat left me. I said to myself, “This event bodes neither good or evil to me. I am not guilty of what they accuse me of. They never can prove it,--an accomplice with Satan!--the victim of diabolical delusion!--Alas! my only crime is my involuntary subjection to the delusions they have practised on me. This man, this Bishop, cannot give me freedom, but he may at least do me justice.” All this time the community were in a fever--the character of the house was at stake--my situation was notorious. They had laboured to represent me as a possessed being beyond their walls, and to _make_ me appear as one within them. The hour of trial approached. For the honour of human nature,--from the dread of violating decency,--from the dread of apparently violating truth, I will not attempt to relate the means they had recourse to the morning of the Bishop’s visitation, to qualify me to perform the part of a possessed, insane, and blasphemous wretch. The four monks I have before mentioned, were the principal executioners, (I must call them so).--Under pretence that there was no part of my person which was not under the influence of the demon, * * * * * * * “This was not enough. I was deluged almost to suffocation with aspersions of holy water. Then followed, &c. * * * * *