by the rules of the Convent. I even, when I felt that I might perhaps be doing wrong, reflected that confession, and penance, would soon wipe out the guilt. But I soon found out several things important to be known to a person living under such rules. First, that it was better to confess to a priest a sin committed against the rules, because he would not require the penance I most disliked, viz., those which exposed me to the observation of the nuns, or which demanded self-abasement before them, like begging their pardon, kissing the floor or the Superior's feet, &c, for, as a confessor he was bound to secrecy, and could not inform the Superior against me. My conscience being as effectually unburdened by my confession to the priest, I preferred not to tell my sins to anyone else: and this course was preferred by others for the same good reasons. To Jane Ray, however, it appeared to be a matter of indifference who knew her violations of rule, and to what penance she exposed herself.
Often while perfect silence prevailed among the nuns, at meditation, or while nothing was heard except the voice of the reader for the day, no matter whose life or writings were presented for our contemplation, Jane would break forth with some remark or question, that would attract general attention, and often cause a long and total interruption. Sometimes she would make some harmless remark or inquiry aloud, as if through mere inadvertency, and then her loud and well known voice, would arrest the attention of us all, and incline us to laugh. The Superior usually uttered a hasty remonstrance, or pronounced some penance upon her; but Jane had ever some apology ready, or some reply calculated to irritate more, or to prove that no punishment would be effectual on her. Sometimes she appeared to be actuated by opposite feelings and motives: for though she delighted in drawing other into difficulty, and has thrown severe
