As for the cassock, it enjoys the same freedom as the robe.  At Saverne, at Clairvaux, at Le Mans and at other places, the prelates wear it as freely as a court dress.  The revolutionary upheaval was necessary to make it a fixture on their bodies, and, afterwards, the hostile supervision of an organized party and the fear of constant danger.  Up to 1789 the sky is too serene and the atmosphere too balmy to lead them to button it up to the neck.  “Freedom, facilities, Monsieur l’Abbé,” said the Cardinal de Rohan to his secretary, “without these this life would be a desert."[64] This is what the good cardinal took care to avoid; on the contrary he had made Saverne an enchanting world according to Watteau, almost “a landing-place for Cythera.”  Six hundred peasants and keepers, ranged in a line a league long, form in the morning and beat up the surrounding country, while hunters, men and women, are posted at their stations.  “For fear that the ladies might be frightened if left alone by themselves, the man whom they hated least was always left with them to make them feel at ease,” and as nobody was allowed to leave his post before the signal “it was impossible to be surprised.” — About one p.m. “the company gathered under a beautiful tent, on the bank of a stream or in some delightful place, where an exquisite dinner was served up, and, as everybody had to be made happy, each peasant received a pound of meat, two of bread and half a bottle of wine, they, as well as the ladies, only asking to begin it all over again.”  The accommodating prelate might certainly have replied to scrupulous people along with Voltaire, that “nothing wrong can happen in good society.”  In fact, so he did and in appropriate terms.  One day, a lady accompanied by a young officer, having come on a visit, and being obliged to keep them over night, his valet comes and whispers to him that there is no more room. - " ‘Is the bath-room occupied?’ — ‘No, Monseigneur!’ — ’Are there not two beds there?’ — ’Yes, Monseigneur, but they are both in the same chamber, and that officer. . . ’ — ’Very well, didn’t they come together?  Narrow people like you always see something wrong.  You will find that they will get along well together; there is not the slightest reason to consider the matter.’ " And really nobody did object, either the officer or the lady. — At Granselve, in the Gard, the Bernardines are still more hospitable.[65] People resort to the fête of St. Bernard which lasts a couple of weeks; during this time they dance, and hunt, and act comedies, “the tables being ready at all hours.”  The quarters of the ladies are provided with every requisite for the toilet; they lack nothing, and it is even said that it was not necessary for any of them to bring their officer. — I might cite twenty prelates not less gallant, the second Cardinal de Rohan, the hero of the necklace, M. de Jarente, bishop of Orleans, who keeps the record of benefices, the young M. de Grimaldi, bishop of Le