penance; and those who did not curtail it hurried through it with precipitate haste. For it is customary to kneel and say the penance immediately after the confession, and as there are some score of idle witnesses calculating its severity from the time expended on it, and thence inferring the gravity of the debt, brevity is a feature of some importance. Hence I never imposed more than five or six Pater Nosters. On one occasion I imposed the usual ‘Four Hail Marys’ on a quiet, unoffending old priest: he was slightly deaf, and, changing his posture of deep humility, he looked up at me indignantly, exclaiming ‘Forty Hail Marys!’
Short penances were not the only deviation from our theological rules which I allowed myself: I soon abandoned the hateful practice of interrogating on malodorous subjects. At first when I heard a general accusation I merely asked whether the morbidity in question was serious or not (for if it were not serious there was no obligation to interrogate): I was, however, so indignantly repulsed when the lady did happen to be on the safe side that I was compelled to resort to the usual Socratic dialogue. It was not long, however, before I entirely abandoned the practice, and simply allowed my penitents to say what they thought necessary. Theologians will tell me that on that point alone (if there were, no others) I am damned eternally—for I shall certainly never repent of it—but I could not convince myself that
