had been taught, both by precept and example, to receive as truth
everything said by the priests. I had not heard their authority
questioned, nor anything said of any other standard of faith but their
declarations. I had long been familiar with the corrupt and licentious
expressions which some of them use at confessions, and believed that
other women were also. I had no standard of duty to refer to, and no
judgment of my own which I knew how to use, or thought of using.

All around me insisted that my doubts proved only my own ignorance and
sinfulness; that they knew by experience they would soon give place to
true knowledge, and an advance in religion; and I felt something like
indecision.

Still, there was so much that disgusted me in the discovery I had now
made, of the debased characters around me, that I would most gladly have
escaped from the nunnery, and never returned. But that was a thing not
to be thought of. I was in their power, and this I deeply felt, while I
thought there was not one among the whole number of nuns to whom I could
look for kindness. There was one, however, who began to speak to me at
length in a tone that gained something of my confidence,--the nun whom I
have mentioned before as distinguished by her oddity, Jane Ray, who made
us so much amusement when I was a novice. Although, as I have remarked,
there was nothing in her face, form, or manners, to give me any
pleasure, she addressed me with apparent friendliness; and while she
seemed to concur in some things spoken by them, took an opportunity to
whisper a few words in my ear, unheard by them, intimating that I had
better comply with everything the Superior desired, if I would save my
life. I was somewhat alarmed before, but I now became much more so, and
determined to make no further resistance. The Superior then made me
repeat the three oaths; and when I had sworn them, I was shown into one