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I'S

U.dJ. a«AI>i.lHH*ro NVW-YOW<

> !f^"

■■>i

LIFE

'.(.'■f A^'A" -^--— ^ --

CATHERINE M^AULEY,

FOUKDBEBS .AKD FIB8T 8UPBBI0B OF THE INSTITTJTB OF
SELIQIOUa blBTESS OF HCBOT.

BY A MEMBER OF THE OKDEB OF MEBCT. >;,

' %wi c/llt*'^'^ /^-r-i^«t-A^ w<^<-*^'<^ Xl^^l. r-rit-ti^

WITH AN INTRODUCTION,

THE VENEBABLE RICHARD BAPTIST O'BBIElf,
taxmamLVM of ldoouok, TicAB-«aiiHAi, >ia; lonnuT raonHOH

or MOKAL TUOIOOT IX AIX-KUXOWl' OOIXMl^ BVSUK.

Job, xxzl. IS.

**Th« Fomdrcn wu bolf, u£ Mdnntlr holy. Her hatrt oT*rflow«d with tbii ehtrltj of
jMui."— Biaat Bit. Bnaor Blaei.

" aod knowf I vonld rttlin M e<M aad hnfiy ttwa tint BU poor ihoiM raflkr wwk"—

CMBIBIHI MoASUT.

Inbltf^t^ foU^ i^t ^iryrotetloR of l^t ||toet |U6. ^rt^In«^o)r j^tnrith.

NEW YORK:
J.flADLIER «k CO., 31 BARCLAY STREET.

MONTRKALii

COB. BOTBE-DAMB AND BT. FBAMOIS ZAYIEB STSSEISk.^

1871. y^.- -' cj,v^

MBC-it'

1 ,> .1 tMUl.lFK * ro NKW-Y' ihK

\ ^1

,j «iii»i H I < —

L I F E

f ' 0»

CATHERINE M<^ATTLEY,

POtJNDEESa ASt) FlF^iT W;£'T:R10B OF THS IHSTITTJTE OF
'fcJ8l.i43IOt38 !iS»?'Sa*» «5* timet.

BY- A MEMBEE OF THE OBDER OF MERCY, .,

u
WITH\4N INTIIODUCTION,

"If ,

TUE VENEEABIJE RTCUAKD BAI'TIST O'BRIET^,

" JVom wjf :n/aMy, irnrry jrrt;- up aSA »*•'

Job, xxt). IS. .

"Tills roandrtH mt boljr, nsid failotntljr holy. Ha hwtrt ovpiygiK,,! witlJ Ui« (lurilf of
y»«Mii — Rtgat R«i, Bunor Bi.iii£i.

■ Ood kni><r« I uranVi r«thM be ceW Mil fcujigfjf thin tli«»t Hl« poor dioalA ««ir«r w»at.'.'—

f ahU9|tb feiili t|[e ^^pprctelifln of i|e SP;ot(t |W>. ^Irj^jbislfop JjitRrtflt.

NEW YORK;
iK A Jf. S!A!!>LTSR A CO., 3 1 BARCI-AY 8TBKET.

con. MOTUK-UAME ANJn ST FRAJftilS XAVlK! ^ :: ;,l-

I'-riir.nri rTiriHrf-f A,

'*\ ■

A^'^:

Bntored (MoordlDc to A«t afObngrtn, In Um jtai ISH^

Bt D. k J. BADLIBS A 00^

tk the Clerki OffiM of th« DIstriot Oonrt of the Untte£ BtatM for tM
Boatbwn DUtriet of Now York.

JOHN O. SHEA, Sttrti^N*
60 Ctntrt SIT, N. Y.

■If.dOT

■ f I iwBWi

VSSSSSStJtKK^ t

173

M A K Y,

m BRIOHT BOM OF OHABITY; TH> 8P0TMM LILY OF PUBITT; TBI
riUORAOT TIOLBT OF HUMILITT ; TBB OL0BI0B8 BXEMPLAB

OF BBLioiOD* pbbhotion; tub mothbb of mbot,

THB MOTHBB OF GOD,
THIS

LIFE OP CATHERINE MoAULET.

THB F38T 8UTXB OF HBBOY,
B
AFriOTIOlTATILT DBDIOATID.

;:■

..I. . . r i l l i |i i M. I I yj, I | „j I m i ^j iii I ;

'"^ tr-

CONTENTS.

iMiBODVonoir. By Bev. Biohard Baptist O'Brien, D. D.. etc, ato Paga IT

CHAPTER I.

Woman in the Chnroh. — "The devout sex." — General oharaoteriatioa of
Catherine Mc Aulejr. 87

CHAPTER II.

Dablin. — Baggot-atreet House, 1827. — Era of the Emancipation. — Opening of
the year 1787. — Apostasy of Lord Dunboyne.— Birtli of Catherine.— Differ-
ence of statements as to the year of her birth. — An Eastern tradition. — Reli-
gions state of Ireland in the 18th centnry.— "^, Mu»a &t." — Extract from
Oerres.— A tragedy.— The Eari of Chesterfield, viceroy.— He permits tha
reopening of some old Catholio churches. — Attempts to open schools. —
Nano K'agle.— Princess Louise 41

CHAPTER III.

Jamea MoAuley, Esq.— His seal for instructing children.— Little Catherina
Eleanor McAuley.— Domestic altercations.— Death of Mr. MoAnley. —
Besponsibility of parents.— Ghosts in Stormanstown Honse. — Its inmates
remove to Dublin. — Madame St. Qeorge. — Mrs. MoAnley's eariy training,
and its consequences.— Her judicious mode of governing children. —
Catherine on "good manners."— Death of her mother. — Its influence on
Catherine.— The contrast between the deaths of the mother and daughter. —
Catherine's seat for preparing children for Confirmation. M

CHAPTER IV.

Snrgeon Conway.— Catherine and Mary removed from all Catholio inflnenoe.—
The two Cathedrals of Dublin.— Amiability of Catherine.— She eMays to writa
Latin exercises.- The pedagogue.— Catherine's religions diffionlties.- Her
esteem for her Protestant friends.— Her theological and historical studies.
—Surgeon Conway's financial reverse, — Catherine's cheerfulness under
affliction. — She is adopted by the wealthy owner of Coolock House. — Dean
Lub4.— Very Bev. Dr. Betagb. U

— ^

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER y.

Catherine instructed by Very Rev. Dr. Murray. — Mr. Callahan.— His portrait-
Mrs. Callahan. — Her generosity. — An unfortanate alliance. — Another. — A
death-bed. — Catherine's godchild, Teresa. — Importance of prayer and delib*
•ration before choosing a state in life 7i

CHAPTER VI.

Dr. James MoAuIey.— Dr. William McAuley.— Table-talk.— Calberine'o eon-
sideratenesa for converts. — Bigotry usually the result of early training.—
Catherine's life at Coolock.— Her trials. — Her zeal for the poor. — Her vieWB
on the importance of the education of women of the lover classes 80

CHAPTER VII.

A soul Id danger.— The Servants' Asylum.— The lost sheep. — Sbadows of
coming events.— Catherine's efforts to make the poor industrious.- Her mod-
erate expectations. — The rich man and his heiress 69

CHAPTER VIIL

Oonversion of Mrs. Callahan.— Her death. — Her husband's grief. — ^Rev. Mr.

M prescribes vint as a preparation to die well. The new gospellers and

the old. — Mr. Callahan's conversion and death. — ^His will.— 'Very Rev. Dr.
Armstrong. — His disinterestedness 98

CHAPTER IX.

Catherine's fortune. — Her charities. — Death of her only sister. — Mr. WiUiama'
grief.— An exciting scene.— Catherine's midnight sortie.— The sentinels.—
The reconciliation.— Her hair becomes " gray, but not with years." Ul

CHAPTER X.

Beauty everywhere. — Something lovely ia every one. — Mary Teresa McAnley.—
She evinces a desire to become a Catholic— Her aunt's devotion w the
Blessed Sacrament.— The Mia Culpa 190

CHAPTER XI.

Projects of the Foundress. — First stone of Baggot-street House laid.— V. B.
Dr. Blake's presentiment. — He ia summoned to Rome to restore the Irish
College.— Miss Fanny Tighe.—Miis McAnley ■■ architects build a Convent-
Very Rev. Dr. Armstrong's illness and death.— Mr. Callahan'6 will con-
tested.- The Institution opened.— Action «<rnM contemplation.— Extracts
from Ven. Archdeacon O'Brien 196

[K,

iot. I., ■■.!■« jt B;»< . ' ".r 'sr

OOIITEKTB.

portrait-
other.— A
md dellb-
74

CHAPTER XII.

Mother McAnley's wsociates aMnrne a distinctive dresg.— Her relativea arg«
her to marry. — H^jor W.'a constinoy.— A scene. — An amniing incident.—'
Mary Teresa not allowed to associate with her aant.— The Captain's theology.—
Hia recollections of Waterloo.— Seventy and mildness. — Intolerance on the
decrease. — ^Dr. 'WilliamB* death. — A scene between the guardiana of his
children ISA

rine'o ooift-
training.—
-Her views
80

CHAPTER 3:111.

The O'Connell family.— The Liberator a Scruple Doctor.- Hia Breech in »
school-room.- His interest in the new Institute.— He dines with the- poor
ohUdren 14«

Shadows of
—Her mod-
89

;— Bev. Mr.
spellers and
iry Bev. Dr.
S8

CHAPTER XIV.

Our Lady of Mercy.— Accessions.— Rev. Father Lcstrange.— Very Bev. Father
O'Hanlon's Novitiate.— The Military and Beligions Order of Our Lady of
Mercy. — Sisters of Mercy founded by Princess Teresa Doria.— Dedication of
the Chapel in Baggot-street.— Opposition to the Institute.— Extract from Dr.
Blake's sermon. — Charitable institutions founded in Ireland during the last
century. — Foundresses-" C. McAnley, Esq." — Severity of the Archbishop. —
Anomalous position of the Institute.— Dr. Blake's kindness.- Kindness of
several religious houses. — The Presentation Bule. — Catherine enters George's
Hill Convent.— Sister M, Mogdaleu Flynn. — Indulgences granted to the new
Institute 148

Williama'
sentinels.—
... HI

CHAPTER XV.

Use of the Novitiate.— The Novice and tiie Mistress.— Incidents of Catherine'*
Novitiate.— Trials. — Catherine's reception.- Behind the ^ri^.— Eminent vir-
tues Catherine obsc>rved in the Abbess and Beligions of Geoige'a Hill.—
Pupils of the Presentation Nuns 16S

MoAnley.—
>tlon vo the

... IM

CHAPTER XVI.

Caroline Murphy.— Caroline, Princess of Wales.— A seraphic death.— rstraor-
dinary kindness of the Carmelite Fahers.— New trials for Sister Mary
Catherine 170

iiad.-v. B.

>r« the Irtth
Convent-
will oon-
n.— EztraoU
.... 1«6

CHAPTER XVII.

Bister M. Catheriae's Profession.— Her return to Baggot-stroet.— Her first leo-
ture. — Extracts from her instruotions. — Her mode of correcting.— The offloa
of Superior.— How Mother McAuIey exercised it.— One paragraph suffices for
rules and constitution for the Institute. — A generous rival. — Mother MoAnley
combines the active and ccatemplative lives.— Intercourse with seculars. 178

i i

. CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Tiie first Reception. — Costume of the Ordv-r devised by the Fonndress.— Gen^
eral end of all Orders.— Special end of the Order of Mercy. — Mother Mo-
Aaley'x arrangements for the protection of distressed women.— She insista
that they shall be governed by u.l.dness. — " A shirt for the Lord-Lieutonant"
causes a little commotion. — Contrasts. — A soul rescued 181

CHAPTER XIX.

Visitation of the sick. — How Mother MoAuley caused the public hospitals to
be opened to all religicMS bodies that chose to visit them.— The poor, the
middle class, and the rich. — Court life at Versailles considered by Madame
Louise to be more monotonous than conventual life. — " Qood Queen Maude."
—The poor the treasures of the Church. — Anecdotes 191

CHAPTER XX.

Mother McAuley's views on education. — ^The regulations she made. — Catholic
aud Non-Catholic educationists. — Anecdote. — Pestalozzi, Bell, Lancaster,
Jacotot.— TUe Eildare-stroet schools.- The National Board.— The Christian
Brothers. — Gerald Griffin's grave. — Catholic priests inaugurators of gratuitooe
instruction. — Education of the middle classes. — Effect the example of our
great edueatiouista ought to have on those engaged in education 201

CHAPTER XXI.

New trials.— Death of Sister Aloysia O'Orady.— Illness and death of Sister M.

' Elizabeth Uarley. — Besignatiou of the Foundress.- Supernatural joy at the

death of a member, always characteristic of Religions Orders SSO

CHAPTER XXII.

The cholera in Uai. — Zeal of the Catholic Clergy. — Excitement of the people.—
Mother McAntey takes charge of the Cholera Hospital, Townsend-street. —
The garrulous nurse.— Extract iVom Dean Qoffney'a Memoir of the Foun-
dretd 836

CHAPTER XXIII.

Distress of the poor in 1882.— The Duchess of Kent.— The Princess Victoria.—
The Catholic queens. — A royal donation. — New accessions. — ^Profession,-
Extract fVom Very Rev. Dominic Murphy.— Mary Teresa McAuley's interview
with the Archbishop. — Her last days.- -Her death. — Grief of the Foundress. 229

CHAPT'dJR XXIV.

Rule and Constitutions of the Order of Mercy. — Lay Sistart. —Very Rev. James
Rice. — Oppoiiition to the new Institute. — The Pope scuds his approbation, and
iis apostolic benediction to its members. — Mother MoAuley gives an aucount
of the foundation of the Order.- Letters 289

^■iweWWfWSP?

C0NTEKT8.

ess.— Gen»
[other Mo-
She inuisU
jieutonant"
181

hospitals to
Id poor, the
by Madame
en Maude."

e. — Catholio
, Lancaster,
be Christian
of gratuitous
mple of our
201

of Sister M.
ral joy at the
880

the people.—
jend-street.—
of the Foun-
886

iss Viotoria.—
-Profeasion.—
ley's interview
foundress. 889

ry Rev, James
iprobation, and
ves an aooount
88»

CHAPTER XXV.

"IJttle Catherine."— Generosity of the Ft.-.">dr«s«.— The Lord Bishop of Dro-
more. — Chief events of his life.— His eonneotion with the Foundress.- -His
love for the Institute 848

CHAPTER XXVI.

Virtues of the Foundress. — ^Faitb. — Hope. — Charity.— Prudence. — Justice. —
Fortitude.— Temperanoe.—Humility. — Obodieoce.— Chastity.— Poverty. — De-
ToMon to the Blessed Sacrament. — ^Anecdotes SM

CHAPTER XXVII.

T|ie First Branch.— The wreck off Dnnleary harbor.— The excommnnioation,

' anditM consequences. — Sussex-place House.— Trials.— Mother McAuley hiding

from the sheriff.- Her letters.— A beautiful specimen. — Kingstown convent

relinqnlahed.— Beopened.— Glastlinle 878

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The Tnllamore Foundation.—Sermon of Very Kev. Dr. Ourtis, 8. J.— Mother
Mary Anne Doyle.— Father Mathew.— Generosity of the Foundress.— Tnl-
lamore will neither lend nor give.—** A bitter soolding for Tnllamore, and
three cheers for Coflow." 887

CHAPTER XXIX.

Mother McAuley and her absent children. — Bhymes.— Her mode of preparing
Sisters for Superiority.— Her advice to a young Superior.— The Charleville
Foundation.— Very Be v. Mr. Croke.- -Sister M. Angela Dunne. — ^Mother
MoAuley refuses to give a colony to her firiend, ths Bishop of Ossory. — Other
applioants. 894

CHAPTER XXX.

Very Bev. Andrew Fiti^erald, D. B.— The McAuley boys.— The Doctor and
the Monk.— Young men's sermons.— Bight Bev. Dr. Nolan.— Dr. Doyle's
error. — Mother McAuley's temptation, and its remedy. — She Voses two of her
Sisters. — Sets out for Carlow. — The Bisters' entrie.—Schools for the middle
classes.— The silver breakftist service.— Death of Bishop Nolan.— Letter of
the Fonndress.— Letter fVom Dr. Fitsgerald 806

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Cork Foundation.— Miss Barbara Qoold.— " Saint Mar'.Vs of the Isle."—
The Foundress incurs the displeasure of the Bishop. — " Catherine the Less."
—An eligible postulaute.— The Meeting of the Waters.- Largo, Lento, a
Grave.— Death of Little Catherine.— Her Aunt's letter.— Df. Murphy.— Severe
retort.— A heavy purse and a fair escutcheon.- The English Bisters.— A

compliment. 888

■ .I ' . ' ■»II HH

30NTENTS.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Bister U. >^* Chaiital.— Deaths.— A brokeu arm.—" A boy that will not b«
good."— The Chaplaincy diffionltiea.— Letters. — Dean Meyler.— " Obrist'a
Blessed Cross."— The Liineriok Foundation.— Death of Sister M. Teresa Pot-
ter.— Letter of oondolenoe Ul

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Sister M. Oertmde Jones.— She shows her brightest oolors in dying.— Death of
Kobert MoAuIey.— The English Sisters.- National pride.— " Geraldinf."—
The last glimpse of Erin.- Visit to Newiy.- Departure of the Fonndress for
th^. London mission 84S

CHAPTER XXXIV

Oeneral govemment.- Lady Barbara Eyre.— Her Reoeption.— The Conrt Fri-
•eiA-.— An amusing incident.— Gratitude of the Foundress.— Letten. ... . 85S

CHAPTER XXXV.

Oalway.— " A second Mary Teresa."— The English Sisters.— The Lanndry.—
Dr. Griflths entrer.ta more aid for Bermondsey. — ^Beception of the Sistera for
the Birmingham Foundation.— BecepUon in Galway.— Difficulties —Very
Bev. Peter Daly 86T

CHAPTER XXXVI.

The Apostle of Temperance and the Sister of Meroy.— A Howard among the
TeetoUlers.—Blrr.— Worse feuds than the " O'CarroU Feuds."— The Apostle's
expedient. — The Crottyltes.- Mother MoAuley on the progress of Tempe-
tance.- Letters fVom Birr.- Conversion of Bev. Mr. Crotty.— "The sun
■hlnes too brightly" for the Foundress 877

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Fresh objections to the Institute.- Beverend Mother appeals to Borne.— Let-
ter. — She loses the last of her " earthly joys."- Her warm attachment to her
relatives.— The Naas Convent.— A severe letter.— O'Connell's speech at Car-
rick-on-Suir.- -rbe Wexford Convent— A spoiled Tocation 889

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Declining health of the Foundress.— The English Sisters. — Letter of the
Bishop of Birmingham.— Bishop Wiseman. — The Bishop of Liverpool.—
Miss G , of Eaton Housa.— Benewal of the Liverpool negotiations.- Let-
ter of Dr. Yonens,— Dr. Pusey.— Confirmation of the Bnle,— The Blrmiog-
bam Foundation 888

MiHMi

OONTENTO.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

B«tnm of the London Superioress.— Innovations and reformation*. — UnfiiTOiv
able Beport by an English priest. — ^Vei-y Kev. Dr. Batler oongratulates him-
self on being independent of " borrowed plumes."— Stormy nationality. —
Forbearance of the Foundress.— Visions.— Bishop Baines.—" Where Paul
and I differ." — ^Tlie lady who has had the visions secedes.— She goes to Borne,
—la protected by Cardinals Acton and Fransone.— She gives her revelatiofiS

• in a Catholic novel..— The " Solitaries" and " Handmaids" disperse.— Their

* projector writes another story ,— Why did she lea ve ns t 407

CHAPTER XL.

The Foundress writes to thv. Bishop of Galway.— Her return to Ireland.— Let-
ters to Very Bev. Dr. Burke, of Westport ; to Sister M. Joseph Joyce ; to
Mother Teresa White.— Her oo~itinued interest in her Houses.- Her xeid. —
Old opinions about the New World 4S8

CHAPTER XLI.

All Saints' Day. — All Souls' Day Joy of the Foundress at the approach of

death.— She receives the Last Sacraments.- Her last moments. — The ruling
passion strong in death.- Her obsequies.- The remains of her departed chil-
dren are brought home.— Her personal app'>arance.— Her portrait.— Statistiea
of the Order. 480

CHAPTER XLII.

Letter of Bishop Blake.— Letter of Dr. Oaffney, Dean of Maynooth.— Obitoaiy,
fVom the Sal^fam BegUter , 448

CHAPTER XLIII.

Mother MoAuley's views on various subjects. — Gentleness.— St. Anselm. —
St. Catherine of Bologna. — Sweetness and condescension. — Importance of
the education of women.— Patron Sainta. — Amusing anecdote. — Converts. —
Kegular ol)8ervance.— Works of literature and art.— M. l'Abb4 Qrou.—
Mother MoAuley's special devotiona,- Her abstraction. — Her appreeiation of
the Sisters. — Her nnbounded conAdence in them. — Profession and renovation.
Prayer.— De La Mennais. — Conclusion 448

CHAPTER XLIV.

Baggot-itrest Convent— St. Paul's Hoipital, Jervis-itreet— The Mater Miieri-
oordin— The Female Kefarmatory 4S8

■I

OTBWl i w « il|U ff ,uu»i ■ « ' i i t;y-'"" ' " «n ii -, ' .'i i"*'*«fw*npiww^!W*i ii n wi i ■ii m i

12 OOMTEKTS.

APPENDIX.

L«tt«n 478

Lift of the Conrenti, eto., foonded by Mother MoAuIey 4M

R. I. P.— Obituiy 495

Coarenti of Mercy founded up to the yew 1863 008

Sgigjaatifcafi

478
4M
495
SOS

PREFACE.

MOBE fortunate than the other Foundresses of Beli-
gions Institutes in Ireland, Catherine McAuley's
memory has been preserved, not only in the traditions of
her children, but also by the pen of able and distinguished
biographers. The first account of her was published in
the DtMin Beview, by her friend. Very Eeverend Mile-
tius Gaffhey, Dean of Maynooth CoUbge, in 1847. Where
he and her other historians disagree, we follow him in
preference to any other, because, as her friend and spirit-
ual director, he had abundant opportimities of acquir-
ing accurate information, and was, in several instances,
an eye-witness of what he relates. This sketch, however,
is very short — about ten pages.

In 1848, a biography was commenced by Mother M.
Teresa Wildridge, of the Oon-^ent of Mercy, Cork. TMs
lady, whose memory is still held in benediction jy the
poor of the city ia which she passed her short but full
Eeligious career, was equally fitted by her piety and tal-
ent to accomplish this useful undertaking. But she was
called to a brighter world ere she could complete her
task. Very Kev. Dominic Murphy, Dean of the Diocese
of Cork, continued her work. His connection with the
Order as friend, benefactor, or confessor, gave him ample
opportunities of learning facts connected with the Foun-
dress, whom his solid piety and judgment enabled him to
appreciate as she deserves. We have been informed that

FBEFAOS.

this learned olorgjman delivered a course of lectures on
" Fotmdrasses of Active Orders," several of which were
devoted to the Foundress of the Order of Mercy, but
these, we regret to say, have not been published. For
some reason or other, Dean Murphy's " Life" was not
published. It contains about fifty pages, and is rather a
dissertation on the duties of the Oi der of Mercy, than a
biography of its Foundress.

A short sketch of the Foundress by " a Sister in Lim-
erick," also remains unpublished.

About five years ago. Mother Mary Y. Hartnett, of
Boscommon, wrote a " Memoir" of the Foundress, " from
her own personal knowledge, and the narrations of
others." This was published, with a fine Litro«^uotion by
the present Archdeacon of Limerick. The style is simple
and affectionate, occasionally more like a panegyric than
a history. Mother McAuley is evidently the writer's
ideal of every thing noble, beautiful, and holy. The sweet
and genile spirit of Mother Hartnett, which, indeed, was
formed on that of the Foundress, has lately been sum-
moned from this vale of tears. This " Memoir" contains
two hundred pages, 12mo. The preceding sketches are
partially included in it.

The Authoress of the present " Life," in every other
way inferior to the above biographers, has had one ad-
vantage over them, that of being able to draw upon more
ample sources for the information she has collected ; as
the narrations of several of the early companions of the
Foundress, her letters and other writings, the traditions
of the Order, and a Memoir specially written for this
work by the godchild of the Foundress. The letters
which form the most valuable part of the book, are mostly
copied from the originals, now chiefly in possession of
a venerable Religious, whose kindness in permitting
us to use them we here gratefully acknowledge. We are

of:

mssismMmm

PBEFACB.

also indebted to this lady — one of the oldest mombew
of the Order — for several incidents of the early life of the
Foundress.

If, notwithstanding all our efforts to verify each cir-
cumstance connected with Catherine McAuley, any inac-
curacies be found in this work, they may be easily recti-
fied in a future edition, as the brother of the Foundress
and several of her early associates are still living ; and
should they deteot any error, which they will readily do
if it exist, they have only to communicate with us.

It is almost unnecessary to add, that in using the word
"Blessed" or "Venerable," or applying the term f heroic"
to any virtue of which we treat, we do not presuii/e to
anticipate the judgment of that Church of which it is our
highest privilege to be a member. We use such terms
merely as they are ordinarily used with reference to those
who are reputed to have died in the odor of sanctity.
With the Decree of Urban VIII. before our eyes, we
have, perhaps, been overcautious in this respect, fearful
lest in our ignorance we should exceed the proper limits.
Yet Very Eev. Dr. O'Brien, as we have lately seen, does
not scruple to spoak of Catherine MoAuley as possessing
" heroic sanctity," and as " a person whom we may one
day expecii to see raised on the Altars of the Chuzoh."

ConvxiiT OF OuB Ladi of Mbbot,

St. Louis, MiaBoori.
FKUt of Ou" Lady ofMtrey, 1866.

Dean Murphy'i work, above aUuded to, hai lino* been publiahed in " SketobM
of Iriih Nunaeriei." Dublin t JuB«i Dnffjr.

■WM*

is? =»'J4'S;S«St<:''' ''>B»«t?3*

iHia

INTRODUCTION.

Bt Vkbt Rbv. KIOHARD BAPTIST O'BBIElSr, D. D., «to., im

Thrbk ore many and edifying reasons for publishing tlie following
"Litie;" bat were there no other than the nnmber of Gonvents of
Mercy now established in every part of the world, the reason would
be more than sufficient. Over three thousand religious ladies, attracted
by the spirit of Oatherine McAuley, now minister to want, and labor
to redeem ignorance, in almost every quarter of the globe, and it must
bd deeply interesting to them to know the life of their Foundress ;
while that larger number who have partuken of the benefits of her
great Institute — ^those who have long admired, atid those who may
feel the first movements of grace towards sharing its merits and
labors, must necessarily desire to contemplate the model upon which
the Sisters of Mercy have been formed. Indeed, such a life will
be interesting to every class of Catholics. Almost every reading
family has some object of affection among the cloisters of Mercy, or
can point to a quiet grave where a sister of their kindred reposes in
the convent cemetery ; and to read the life of Oatherine MoAuley is
like bringing back and around us the gentle beings whose virtues we
trace, while we follow the career of their spiritual Mother, who begot
them in Ohrist Jesus.

But there is something of even more general interest than that
referred to, and which would seam to demand the present publication.
The manifestations of heroic sanctity which, from timo to time, Ood
Almighty inspires and produces, have their objects remote as well as
immediate, and are intended to subserve the one as well as the other.
In the v'ifor of Faith, Hope, and Charity the Church lives; and,
although the life and beauty of individual perfection may in many
cases be like the desert flower, hidden from every eye but that of God
and His Heavenly Court, there are many others in which He moat

INTRODUCTION.

evidentlj wishes that they Bhoald ahine forth like " light in the dark
place"* of our pilgrimage, for the guidance, encouragement, and hope of
the world. Thej have their allotted place and appointed work in
their time or epoch ; but, beyond local limits and temporary results,
their mission is to the future preaching of the gospel of perfect love,
and revealing the embodiment of perfect religious devotion.

And in the life of Catherine MoAuley will be fonnd the most striking
proofs of heroism of almost every description, united to a prudence
which never allowed enthusiasm to control common sense. There will
be found a passiveness that looks almost like insensibility, and a firm-
ness unshaken in every trial ; a recollection that never slept, and a
sweet joy which was never clouded by pain or apprehension. Per-
haps no one could be more sensitive, and none more patient. No one
could labor more intensely, and no one could, with more equanimity,
see the fmits of pain and sacrifice utterly destroyed. She had a soul
of tUe softest feeling, and at the same time a most resolute will. Tadol-
gent and rigorous, exacting and liberal, prodigal when God's glory was
concerned, and sparing to a degree, where charity wonld permit the
lessening of individual comfort ; tried by every ordeal, physical and
moral, and changeless in every vicissitude ; overwhelmed with cares
and labors, yet never hurried or excited ; utilizing not only hours but
moments, yet wondering how one so imperfect could accomplish any
thing ; ever the most dif&dent, and always the most confident ; receiv-
ing gifts of Divine bounty with fea^" and crosses with joy; praising
Qod with gratitude for the one, and looking upon the other ao harbin-
gers of coming benediction ; the certain calm of one who " knew in
whom she trusted" reigned over her whole career, and diffused itself
in such serene tranquillity around her death-bed, that, as St. Bernard
says of St. Malachy's departure, no one could know which was the
repose that stole over Crod's servant, that of sweet sleep or that of the
grave. '■^

Such will the following pages reveal Gatherine McAuley to have
been ; and such she will appear to have become by an instinct, rather
than by reasoning or gradnal formation — a real child of His covenant
who was to establish the offspring of Israel as "universally taught of
♦Ijc Lord." And yet the events of her life may seem common enough.
And her moral greatness — what we would in all humility call her
heroic sanctity — partook of the nature of these events, as in some
manner they should, because ordinary ftiots will generally be treated

•XI Pet i. 18.

INTHODUCTION,

in ordinary ways. She was auetere to berselfl bat the full amonnt of
her mortification was bnried with her in Christ, and can never be
known. Often she contrived to be the only one in the convent who
had no cell to rest in, and she was always the only one who had no
cessation' from toil The obligation of satisfying the opposing views
of ill-tempered patrons, and bearing the ire which punished her for
not effecting impossibilities or practising absurdities, natm-ally fell to
her share. With all this the "nominal" meal in the refectory comes
to onr mind, and the "discipline" so habitual with her that only a
day or two before her death she bade it fkrewell, when wet with her
blood she handed it to the eister who waited onlier and commanded
her to bum it Bat ell was nothing to her sinless life, her recolleo-
tibn, her sweetness, and that "facility" of performing acts of devoted-
''"fls above and beyond the ordinary acts of good people, in which
Beixidiot XIV. places heroic virtue. " He who possesses it," says this
great pontiff "works with ease, readiness, and delight above the
ordinary measure for a supernatural end; and so without human
reasoning, with an abnegation of self, and with an entire subjection of
the passions." As we quoted St. Bernard's life of St. Malachy, we
may give Bartoli's words regarding Cardinal Bellarmine ; for one and
the other seem formed on the same model as the foundress of the
Order of Mercy. And why should it not be so? Those "who put
on the Lord Jesns are one spirit with him," and the spirit governs the
deeds. Thus Bartoli speaks of the venerable servant of God of whom
we have made mention :

"Many would think they heard a miracle of virtue if we told them
that, for seventy-nine years. Cardinal Bellarmine wore a hair shirt,
and that his loins were girt with a heavy iron chiun, which he wore
all his life. But they would not think the same if we told ;;hem,
what in fact is true, that for seventy-nine year', of his life he never
stained, by venial sin deliberately committed, the innocence of his
baptismal robe ; and yet, mach less perfection of virtue is required for
a man to subjugate and tame his body by fastbigs, watchings, and
bloody sooci^ings, than in every variety of accidents to keep the af-
fections of his mind so subject to the spirit, as that they never btir —
never make themselves felt, or show their life, except only so far as
when he pleases. It is not the perfection of virtue that it should be
visible or create a stir ; the deeper great rivers are, the more silently
they flow."

One thing which must stride the most cursory reader of this life,
Is, how little Catherine herself knew of the mission for which the

INTilODUCTION.

Almighty had destined her. Like St. Francis Assist, St. Dominic, St
Ignatiu.1, and nearly all, if not qnite all, the fonnders of religions orders,
she looks the passive instrument of God's love for man, "worked by
the Spirit," as the children of Ood are, and for the beneficent object
of becoming the stewardess of celestial bounty to those whom the
world passes by. She wishes to bnild a school for poor girls, rnd her
architect builds a convent ; she engages a few ladies to help her, and
for convenience' sake, they begin to take a spare meal on the premises.
Religion suggests a parb grave as their occupations, and a dark cos-
tume is assumed; intercourse begets the name of "Sister," at first
playfully applied, and spiritual authority is offended at the usurpation ;
thus the casually associated little band have insensibly come within
the charmed circle of monastic feelings and habits ; its spirit has in-
sensibly stolen in among them, and shaped their lives and ordinary
practices, until at length they stand on the threshold of the sanctuary,
and retrogression or progress becomes a necessity. Happily the step
is made forward, and the Church has a new gem in her brilliant
diadem.

We behold, here, the full illustration of the words of the Master in
Israel : " If the work be from Grod, you cannot destroy it." Cathe-
rine's work was like our Divine Lord and His work : " a sign to be
contradicted." She had, as the reader will perceive, the crosses, and
conflicts, and misconceptions which wait upon great enterprises ; but
from all of them the weak woman came forth, radiant with the victo-
ries the Divine Spirit deigned to bestow. The simple truth is, that
her work was a plant whose growth was in, and of, the Church — which
belonged to the special season predetermined by Heaven — and was,
therefore, only one of the series of the "Father's planting," which, in
mysterious order, grow along the fields of ages, and mark the necessi-
ties of mankind, as well as the vi jilance and lovingnesa of Qod. The
same Wisdom which gave a Panl and an AStony to piety, a Benedict
to learning, a Bernard to discipline, a Dominic to assailed orthodoxy,
a Francis to spiritual life, a Peter Nolasco to philanthropy, a Vincent
de Paul to ecclesiastical reform and charity, a Nano ITagle and a De
la Salle to the education of the poor — the same gave to Ireland, coming
on the famine time, the cholera time, and the days of awM emigra-
tion, and Queen's Colleges, and growth of materialism — Thb Obdxb
OF MxBOT. Refuge was to he needed for our young women, and
homes for our orphans, and education for our girls, and angels of God's
love for our decaying and dying brothers in hospitals, garrets, and
oabini ; and just as it always happened, at the proper time— nntber

linic, St

g orders,

)rked by

it object

tiom the
rnd her

her, and

premises.

lark 008-

" at first

srpation ;

ae within

rit has in-
ordinary

lanotnary,

f the step

r brilliant

Master in
." Cathe-
sign to be
rosses, and
(rises; but
I the vioto-
ith is, that
ch — which
-and was,
' which, in
he necessi-
Gk)d. The
a Benedict
orthodoxy,
, a Vincent
e and a De
ind, coming
rfol emigra-
Tmt Oedbb
romen, and
els of God's
garrets, and
me — nether

INTRODUCTION.

sooner nor later — Qod spoke, by the presence of the Sibtsbs of Mibot:
" I am with yon all days, even to the consnmmation of the world."
It was quite true for the Foundress, when she congratnlated Mother
Elizabeth of Limerick : " Gratitude to God" for being made instru-
ments of good, is the only feeling that can ever have place in a ra-
tional mind, that contemplates the results of labor and sacrifice as the
fruits of God's own husbandry. In no case is there a philosophical
proportion between the exertions of religious founders and thnir won«
derfhl success. " God grant yon lively gratitude and profound hu-
mility," wrote the Foundress; "then, indeed, you wiU be a child of
benedicH'>n." Such is the mere common sense of those who see the
truth, as jix\j ui^ clean of heart can behold it

Herein lies a secret which unhappy dissent can never fathom, and
which it wearies itself in vainly describing. Lord Macaulay, speaking
of the Church, naid truly enough, that never was any " human institu-
tion" so worthy of being studied, because no human institution can be
compared with the works of God. Having, however, agreed with his
readers, that the Ghurch was a " human institution," he commenced
to initiate them in the arcana of her indcstmctibilily. He made her
power consist principally in her liberality; and declared that had John
Wesley belonged to her communion, the Church would have tied a
rope around his body, and sent him on her work to the antipodes ; she
would then conclude by making him a Saint. The English schism, he
says, made Wesley a schismatic to itself, because -it did not know how
to employ his enthusiasm. Another writer places the strength of the
Church in her coercive power and activity — declaring that she would
long since have fallen by the wear and tear of time, and the intelli-
gence of " the nineteenth century," only for the fictitious strength im-
parted to her by bigotry. Earl Bussel thinks her attractive points are
those ceremonies, which ^^xalted intellects like his, call "the mum-
meries of superstition." Bishop Forbes, and many of the Church of
England people, now say on the contrary: "The real sacramental ob-
jective presence of our Master in the Sacrament — ^the duty of adora-
tion and oblation — the obligation to pray for the departed — the belief
that all the Saints in Paradise unite in prayer for us on earth — the»e
thinffi are our euential professions.^^ One says, " confession" is the
thing; another, the "monastic orders;" a third thinks "celibacy"
the secret; and a fourth places the spring of the Church's life in "in<
fallibility." Each of these doctrines, or all of them, accompanied by

1
1

mTBODUOTION.

certain oeremonies, will then be adopted by taste or by principle, and
the Novattan vainly thinks he has discovered an elixir for sfaotarian
immortality.

But it is vain. The gardening in God's Ghnrch is Gh)d's. The soil
is Hia ; the preparation of the ground and the growth of the tree. In
alieu land the plant mast fade and perish, for the fertiliziDg dew falls
only on the spot which is coi !!ecrated by the pbouisb. The people ot
whom we speak are like northern travellers, who find themselves in
the midst of tropical f .~ wers, v/hose rich hnes and miyestio proportions
fill them with admiration. " Had we only sach flowers at home 1"
they exclaim, and they forthwith begin the work of transplanting.
Bnt the labor is useless. The chill bosom of the north was never in-
tended to supply the warm current which is necessary for their life.
Tho frosts nip, and the winds scatter them. They grow healthfnlly
and Inxuriantly only at home. The Religions Orders grow np in the.<
Ghnrch by a fixed law — betimes they live only their period and make>
way for others — but spontaneity is their character. The same general
objects — God, and the neighbor — bnt as "the neighbor" is ever
changing his needs, the Orders ever change their aspects, or new ones
spring up to compliment the exertion of the old. Founders are the
hand of God dealing with His Ghnrch to the end of time ; bnt " go
down to the land which the Lord thy God will show thee," is, it might
be said, their only rnle. Never was any thing more nnfounded than
the supposition that "the Ghnrch," meaning the execntive of Ohrist's
Ghurch, originates Religions Orders. They only spring up in her,
a^d she " dresses and keeps" the garden God has given to her care.

And it may be allowed for a moment to delay the reader while the
remark is made, that nothing occurs more frequently than the singular
division which Dissenters make between the Ghurch and hent^.
Looking at her operations through all time and in all places, they sup-
pose a kind of Directory in some place not very well defined, and they
attribute to this Directory the universal motion in which they behold
the members of the Ghurch's organism. An "Order" is instituted?
The Church adopted that plan to effect such and such purposes. Is a
mission undertaken ? Tha Church has sent so and so into these dis-
tant regions to eoonre her dominion. Does an institute of peculiar
rigor and great lul>or appear? The Ghurch has adopted this new form
of appeal to secure her infiuenoe. And what appears very wonderftil,
is, that many intelligent people— people of travel— repeat the phrases
of visionary hypotheses to which use has given the privilege of passing
without examination.

INTRODUCTION.

Probablj manj vould be astonishea t^ hear that there is no sooh
Directory — no board or government inventing religious orders, or
organizing severe institutions and laborious ccr.yregatlons. The
Church— if by the Church is meant the Holy See and the Cardinals at
Borne — ^hear about such tilings for the first time when they are in life
and action. The Sovereign Pontiff gives them their passports to
travel, and the stamp of tlioir origin ; but he no more makes them,
invents them, or plana tlieir objects, than the head of the human body
institutes the hand or regulates its powers. They are, every one of
them, and all of them combined — the Church working — Rome doing
her own great part, and imparting to the rest authority and real life.
They spring forth from 0HAnmr, the fruits of the Divine Spirit,
claiming their origin from the Most High. Rome judges, but does not
create them. Lilce the Okdek of Mkeot, they spring up unexpectedly,
present themselves suddenly, and take their places harmoniously, with
only ONK Inteixigenob to which they owe their origin. Reflecting
minds will see, In the adaptation of means to end, thus observable In
the combination of the religious orders directed to one purpose —
achieving identical results, and converging from all times and all
places, though all apparently coming from the ever-varying impulses
of the human heart — a harmony of man's liberty and God's eternal
designs, such as only Omnipotence could accomplish. In fact, all
these functions which persons outside the Church perceive in cease-
less action everywhere, are, all of )hem, the Church working ; and to
speak of the Church employing them, or instituting them, is to say
something which has no meaning; or to say: "Ob, see that man's
hands and feet I oerttdnly his head made thera ; fur they act In perfect
unison with it." It would be easy to explain it all by saying that God
made the members, and gave them a Hka.d to govern tbem ; but that
explanation wonld never answer for people who must see things ac-
cording to their preconceived views, and who. If they have said n man
Is his own father, will insist that every other fact must square with
their supposition.

How beautiful is the consistent love and mercy of the good Qod
displayed towards the poor 1 All the blessings Religion promises to
sufferings are shadowed forth In the devotion she always displays
to the wretched. The outcasts of the world's pride — who seem an
offence to Its ei^joyments and Intellect — the ignorant and the pauper-
ized — they are just the persons for whom Christ reserves whatever la
most precious to His affection, by His graces and their good-will.
Just as if to prove His PuBsnxfcB, and the wonderful " virtue which

INTRODUCTION.

went forth from Him," He selects the chUdren reared in laxnrj and
shaded from the view of sorrow, and makes them servants of a class
fh)m whom even poverty would often fly with horror. We see nature
thus transformed or exalted, mortality divested of its clay, the lost in
life's race march first hy Divine love ; and we lx»hold the perpotnation
of that celestial economy, which songht the fallen woman at Jacob's
well, and watched the funeral coming out from Nain, to give the
dead son to the mother, " who was a widow." We learn the real
meaning of "love one another as I have loved yon," and can no longer
understand the principle which makes imprisonment in a workhouse
the condition and exponent of Ghi-istian love.

Let it be again repeated, that religious orders grow out of the roots
of faith, hope, and charity, always alive in the Church. They may
take different forms, because the necessities of the world will always
vary with the condition of the human family, and the objects to be
attained by charity will always vary with them. One thing, how-
ever, ii invariable, and that is, that the stamp of ^heir origin is ever,
not only on the works done, but, by a blessed providence, on those
who do them.

Not only in the oasj of Catherine, but in that of nearly all her
associates and followers, the individuals and their occupations were
the least likely in the world to be combined. Education, tastes, habits,
pr^udices, and one would say, even capacity, were opposed to the
selection of a state in life like that which the Sister of Mercy seeks so
ardently. The poverty in which she lives con be known only to those
who will not reveal it, and the labor she performs is a marvel to those
who know her best, and even to herself. The brief repose— the
lengthened devotions — the spare diet, and even the hot school for
hours of a day, are not so much in themselves; but the sickness, dis-
tress, filth, stupidity, insffi^ibility, and even obduracy, to which they
become daily handmaids, are things with which it requires an effort
of the mind to connect the joyous, radiant young creature who is tbo
sunshine of home and the pride of her parents. And when yon think
of the way in which she has been brought up— the tender care of
home— tlie hardly less anxious attention of the boarding-school — the
worship jouth, beauty, and good means obtain, if they do not in-
spire—the very vanity inseparable from adulation, and oven the oon-
eoiousness of right and claim to these things according to the world's
node — they all remove the individual so far from the scones and sor-
rows to which we have referred, that you find such persons among
them, 08 you find the sick made sudden^ whole, or the sinAil sud-

INTBODUOTIOK.

niryand
)f a class
io nature
tie lost ia
potniitioii
it Jacob's

pve the

the real
no longer
workhouse

' the roots
They may
rill always
ijeots to be
ling, liow-
gln is ever,
,i on those

»rly all her
ations were
ates, habits,
Dsed to the
roy seeks so
nly to those
•vel to those
repose— the
; Bohool for
ickness, dis-
whioh they
•es aa effort
e who is the
in yoa think
ider care of
school— the
J do not in-
ven the oon-
the world's
ones and sor-
irsons among
e sinftal sud-

denly converted. It b not natare. It cannot be nature. And when
to all this you add, perhaps grace's greatest triumph — that while the
child of God works away, no one sees the sacrifice — there is no word
of wonder at her chivalry, or praise of her heroism, »r pity for hnr
suffering; but all her toilsome life she "plods her weary way," going
where she is sent, not knowing what she is to do next — praying,
reading, teaching, and reposing, by no taste or will of her own, but
nil by unquestioning obedience — you find no difSculty in pronouncing
the old judgment : "The finger of God is here."

It is easy, oompar^ktively, to go forth amid such scenes for a day or
two in the mouth or week ; though for ten or twenty years you will
find few to do so. Tou are free to go or to stay — and that does
something fur pride and selfishness. Tou have your own home on
your return in the evening, and the contrast makes domestic enjoy-
ment even more happy. Tou have your friends to meet and your
lamentations to indulge in, and the long, story of your experience to
narrate — ^and all these do a great deal for p< or humanity. But a far
different thing is the "Sister's" life. The long day's wearing toil — the
sealed silence on her relum — the never-ceasing duty calling her still to
some engagement— and then the lonely cell and hor own soul. These
are the things that make the life of a religious impossible to selfish-
ness, ivnd created and sustained only by grace.

The writer has seen some instances of the heroism of which he
speaks, and which comes only from the Former and Fashioner of
hearts and resolutions. Ho has seen them in the cholera hospitals,
where his own duties called him the days and nights of 1840, and he has
met them at the fever-sheds in '46, '47, and '48. It was not tbe exer-
tion, though such ex^ion wore out many a strong energy; nor the
patience and devotion, for both one and the other seem to be the nor-
mal growth of gentle souls; but it was the changeless, sleepless, oon-
querless activity, the mirooulons kind of omnipresence of these
young, fair daughters of the faith, during the whole time, day and
night. Gome when you would and go where yon pleased, you found
them there still. And yon saw, or imagined yon saw, the same per '
son everywhere ; the same sweet, contented, happy look and bearing
that spoke of b&.ven within and around them. How they could
address themselves so continuously to the wretched, surprised one.

The poor sinner was softened when they spoke of God, and suffer-
ing relaxed half its grasp as the Sister of Mercy held the cross before
the glazing eyes of anguish. It need not be observed that many
Protestants were converted by the grace of their very looks, for they

; I

■ I

•;?.

■

3 i

INTBODUCTIOK.

never spoke of controversy. One case was amnsing enough. It oc-
curred during the visitation of 1849 :

" Well " BMd a hospital officer to an English seaman, who appeared
to be rapidly sinking, "well, friend, what minister wiU you have?"
"Minister, eh t»
"Yes, what minister?"
" Well, I'm sure I don't know. I say l"
"Well?"

" Do you see that tall black 'un there?"
•' Yes, that is Sister Mary— one of tiio nuns."

" Oh, well, then, I wiU have her minister. She works hard I

know, and I h'ard she doesn't get no pay."

The pool fellow had afterwards better motives for entering thi
Ohuroh, and " the tall black 'un" closed his eyes.

Of a truth, only God's power in God's Church reveak snob
resources in the heart of woman.

Nothing demonstrates the rapidity with which Christian morality
shares, in Protestant communions, the fate of Christian dogma,
more than the relations which subsist between property and pauper-
ism. It was thought by the eariy reformers that personal judgment
which regulated the nature and extent of belief, would never usurp
the direction and specification of moral principles. Habit had fixed
them, and the public conscience appeared their guardian. But only a
brief period was necessary to show that the indepenience which
defied aU teaching in the matter of fdth, renounced all guidance in
the matter of practice, and that no higher sanction of moral law any
longer existed than public taste and private safety. Men did precisely
what they pleased, and restrained their impulses only in the presence
of shame or danger.

And the results ot the principle, or want of principle, here indi-
cated, were i. . nd in the altered condition and position of the poor.
The kind fellowship that took them by the hand, and that sunny joy
which in the presence of sympathy beamed in the face of patient
want, were found no longer. The rich looked at the poor askant, and
the poor bent their brows as wealth passed by, and made them feel
the contempt of pride and high station. The dosses separated one
from another like castes, and began to reckon each other as natural
enemies, and the seeds of ever-growing repulsion were widely sown.
It is not to be siud, of course, that this was universally the case, but
only generally, and quite sufficiently to render such a state of thingi •
characteristic of our time.

i^mm

iiiim""iiii-ii"ii»aiiiiiiiaiiiii

gh. It oc-

o appeared
have?"

hardl

intering tbi

eveak snob

an moralitj
bian dogma,
and pcuper-
al judgment
never nsnrp
tit bad fixed
But only a
lence vbiob
. guidance in
aral law any
did precisely
the preaenoe

e, here indl-
of tbe poor.
lat Bnnnyjoy
ce of patient
ir askant, and
de them feel
leparated one
er as natural
widely sown,
tbe case, but
te of tbings •

IKTBODUCTION.

Workbonses are among tbe ideas whiob sprang ont of the new con-
dition of society ; and they sprang ont of a double feeling, or a treble
feeling it may bo. They were a safety to governments ; tlu'y rfmoved
want from the presence of competence ; and tliey supplied the place of
voluntary alms, which were no longer found available.

It is no part of tbe purpose of this Introduction to make national
contrasts, or to laud foreign philanthropy; yet it is worth remarking
that tiie workhonse system is entirely a Protestant idea. Catholic
countries may be good, bad, or indifferent, but it is certain that sorrow
and want find sympathy and sufficient osustance iit brotherly love, and
that perpetual imprisonmenc and the rnpture of all feeling are not a
condition necei'sary to avoid starvation. Why slionld it be so? Po
liticd or social economy 7 Assuredly, Christianity must be wiser than
modem socialism, which finds tbe principles of religion inconvenient
or transforms them by misinterpretation.

What is tills thing which Christianity calls love? Modern philoso-
phy has, in many thmgs, found the Scriptures behind modern progreus,
but fearfyiy in advance of it in the notion of the relations of man-
kind. And modem philosophy accordu.gly takes as much Christianity
OS comes up to tbe mark of modem wisdom, leaving the rest as a
monnment of what is called ancient civilization, now extinct. Lovb
is one of the objects of Chriatian precept which serves to enlighten
the dull history of the middle ages, and which is dignified with tho
white garment of Herod in these days of industry and political science.

It is not too much to say that the i.ovs of the Gospel — illustrated by
the life that animates the Gospel— is found only where the Church has
sway. If we never saw tho sacrifice of lovb, "greater than which no
man bath ;" and never heard the precept of love — " love one another
as I have loved you ;" or never bad known the interpretation of i,ovk,
as the Acts of tbe Apostles, the Epistles of Sts. James and John, have
preserved it for our edification, we certainly could judge without
serious difficulty that lovb did not mean indifference, hostility, con-
tempt, shutting out suffering from our eyes that iU agonies may not
disturb us, and incarcerating poverty perpetually that we may not be
offended by its rags. No ; love has feeling, action, anxiety, watchAil-
ness, on ardent curiosity to discern necessity, and an ardent impulse
to relieve pain. It does not confine itself to feeding and clothing its
object, and locking it up within stone walls, to curse its fate and brood
over human ii\)ustice ; but it seeks, cores, consoles, and cheers distress,
more by tho nnpurcbasable sympathy of a compassionate heart than
by measureless oontribntions of money, which are han^V valued by

■■

INTBODUCTION.

those •w]\c give or receive. The apostle gave his glom upon the view
of our Lord Je^iia Christ when he said : " We ought to die for tlie
brethren."

The Church at all times felt and demonstrated her feeling, that the
poor were emphatically Jesas Christ: "As long as you have not ('.one
BO to one of these little ones, you have not done it to mel' Thus "all
things were in common" in the early days of her history, when the
echo of Christ's injunctions were still in the ear of the disciples. And
far Zowa in the ages, until we feel the presence of the laws in our
traditions and habits, the episcopal treasury was the excess above the
necessities of affluence, to which all the poor had an irresistible right.
"We understand at once how it was that temporal necessities became
the signal for Christian devotion, and even the manacle of the slave
was freely shared or assumed when Christian lots contemplated the
slavery from which love divine had rescued it.

The listers of Mercy, sitting by the beds of the plague-stricken, their
light forms flitting up and down the hospitals dnring the cholera-time
— mingling with the dying on the battle-fields of the East, or hanging
over beds of pain and disease at Scutari and Balaklava — are sometimes
miracles in the eyes of earnest Protestants, and not unfreqnently an
illustration of the " wonderful power the Church of Rome has over its
votaries." To one who views the picture in the light of the " Oruoi-
fled," there is nothing seen but snccessorsliip to those who gloried in
the Cross of our Lord Jesus, and who heard His voice calling them to
the holy mountain: "Go, sell what ye have— give it to the poor, Fol-
low Me, and yon will have treasure in heaven."

The writer remembers the cholera of 1882, and had the happiness
of spending some nights in a cholera hospital. It was in early sum-
mer-time, and life and death came in awful contrast when countless
coffins moved along the roads and across the country, amid the fresh
verdure and blooming flowers of June. There r. os a complete paraly-
sis of hope; and many sank down beside the plague-stricken, whose
fears poisonetl the current of life, rather tlian the disease which smote
their neighbors so suddenly and fearfully.

At that time a young lady of nineteen assumed the direction of the
nnrses in a Southern hospital. Educated, attractive, noble in her bear-
ing, dignified in her address and manners— it was a charming study to
watch her as she passed iVom bed to bed, from ward to ward — not
with the cloud of saddening sorrow, but with the smile of heaven-
hope in her face. For every one she had a kind word, and her look
was even more eloquent in consoling the wretched th«n her language.

'■■^wm

INTRODUCTION.

a»

the view
,e for the

;, that the
> not ('.one
Thus "all

when the
pies. And
iws in onr

ahove the
tible right,
es became
r the slave
iplated the

ioken, their
iiolera-time
or hanging
I sometimes
equently an
lias over ita
the "Ornol-
D gloried in
ing them to
I poor, FoL-

e happiness
I early snm-
jn countless
lid the fresh
)lete paraly-
icken, whose
which smote

action of the
I in her bear-
ling study to
to ward — not
e of heaven-
md her look
lior laoguage.

Even in their direst extremity, the sufferers felt the balm of new con-
solation when that joung girl stood by their side. To some of the
medical men she was a plienomenon — particularly to Protestants —
who more than once exclaimed to the writer: " What a singular taste
that young lady must have!" They conld hardly understand what is
meant by the constraining love that wastes itself and rejoices while it
pines — that transformed the heart of St Franeis Xavier into a paradise,
and made thecholer& hospital a heaven for the child of sacrifice. The
girl of nineteen of that day is now a Sister of Mercy ; and has, in many
a place and many a heart, reproduced, by GUkI's goodness to her, the
idenl which then filled her young soul. No cnrions eye shall discover
the daughter of benediction, whose greatest grace is the mantle of hn
mility, with which, in all her days, she has been able to conceal the
gifts of Grod.

The purposes the Almighty has to servo, require virtues equal to
their holinens and their magnitude. And when Catherine McAuley
was chosen to be the medium of salvatiim— of applying the divine
mercy to so many in religion and out of it— we find her graces eqnal
to her mission. Was there ever a creature more unselfish — who lived
more entirely by faith, hope, and love T And do we not see in the
special nature of the lights God vouchsafed to her, that wonderful il>
lumination of soul which reflects the near Saviour, by communion and
indwelling?

It is happy for us who pursue her through the brief and fnll career
Ood permitted unto her, that even so much rumaips to illustrate her
exalted views of spiritual life and holy charity. From the letters
which have been preserved, we may easily see what a treasure the
Ohuroh in general should possess, if a colleotion of her writings conld
be obtained. Tbe communications to Kingstown, Oariow, Limerick,
&o., — pointing out the connection human efforts have with the work
of God, and the way to employ trials, contradictions, and sufferings,
in order to give them their place in the economy of God's govern-
ment, — are beautiful expositions of the thoughts of an interior soul,
and indicate a virtue quite kindred to that of the great Saints of the
Church. To such a one nothing comes amiss. Every success was the
good Father's mercy to the poor and to the Sisters ; and every bitter
trial was sent only to purify our thoughts and stimulate our exertions,
while, if received with humility, it was the sure forerunner of soma
singular blessing. Such an interior is, of course, the effect of the
grace of Heaven, and the true reflection of the perfect will of God. It
is the victory which ocnquers the world, which is {^ven into the hands

INTBODUCliON.

of Christ's servants ; and a new proof of His dear love for the poor
and forlorn, in whose canse He works such wonders.

It will be remembered that Catherine had been reared among Pro-
testants, and that some men.bers of her own family bad apastatized
from tlie Church. Hence her early days were only partially enlight-
ened, and were obo deprived of the aids to knowledge and sanctity
which thuQsands of Catholics possess in such abnodance. Thus she
continued nearly to the hour that beheld her in possession of wealth,
and mo^-od by that insatiable spirit for helping want and ignorance,
that was the writing of God in the pages of her great destiny. Then,
what men would call an accident, made her a novice at George's Hill ;
and eighteen months were given to religious training. Such was her
whole schooling, one might say, in the science she was to teach as a
mistress — in the difficult up-hill path of perfection, where she was to
become a guide. And so it was with regard to tlie government of
otiier^. She hud known little or no theory of it ; yet hundreds of
hearts were to be swayed by her, and hundreds of dispositions to be
ruled, and the energies of hundreds directed, while every variety of
difficulty and trial was to be encountered in all kinds of chftraoter, and
arising from every kind of position. Her enlightenment and her pru-
dence — her never-wavering faitJi, hope, and humility — led her steadily
to the successful results we ei^oy. Ker letters will be read with in-
terest, and will attest these observations to be facts. She had no
"vain fear or superfluous solicitude;" and as she did all f <" God, who
governs all, she accepted disappointment with the same readiness as
success — perhaps indeed with more pleasure, because of the hnmilia-
tion that came with it.

Speaking of St. Teresa, Benedict XIV. quotes from the process of
her canonization : ." The Auditors of the Rota, in their report on thti
virtues of this saint, have proved the heroism of her life from the fact
that she placed her hope and love in God Himself as the end, but in
all created goods only as the means necessary or conducive towards
obtaining eternal good; that she hoped in God with dl her heart,
with full security and without any doubt or hesitation, but with a firm,
noss which excluded all vain fear and superfluous solicitude ; that she
flew to Him alone in every necessity and danger, by humble prayers
and persevering supplications, with oil the trustfulness of her soul, and
that in Him and for film, she hoped for and achieved most difficult
things, namely, the reform of her order, although she was a woman,
poor, in bad health, and destitute of all human aid, although she waa
impeded by powerful obstacles, and dangers were hanging over her."

^mimmssm^S

INTBODUCTION.

■the poor

long Pro-
postatized
y enli^ht-
il sanctity
ThoB she
of wealth,
ignorance,
ly. Then,
rge'8 Hill;
h was hor
teach as a
she was to
>rnment of
imdreds of
ions to be
r variety of
racter, and
id her pru-
ner steadily
ad with in-
he had no
- God, who
readinesB as
he bninilia-

I process of
)port on the
•om the fact
end, but in
ive towards
L her heart,
with a firm.
le; that she
nble prayers
ler ponl, and
lost difiicnlt
ia a woman,
ugh she was
t over her."

Every word here spokea will be for.nd jostified if we apply the pas*
sage to the subject of these pages. And what renders such coinci>
deuce of virtno the more singular is, that the facts which tlie Sacred
Oongregation of the Bota describes as an evidence of the heroic virtue
of St Teresa, come out in those of Mother MoAnley's life with a facility
which makes the language of the Bota only like a deduction from the
pages now given to the public.

Benedict XIV. sayn agun, quoting from the prooest- of canoniza-
tion: "The entrance of St. Aloysius Oonzaga into the Society of Jesns
was rightly accounted among his heroic acts of hope by the Anditors
of the Bota; for he, cheerfully resigning tb^ marquisate of Castiglione,
which was afterwards made a principality, and putting aside the
pleasures and delights of this world, embraced the aforesaid insti-
tute."

Oertainly, we may condudr as much of Oatherine MoAnley's sur~
render of the world. She was extremely well fitted by nature to take
what is called " a high place in society ;" and her talents had had an
education suflScient to give them a striking development. In fortnnA
and prospectr, she was far in advance of the Catholics of her position
in our day. They were then fewer, more prominent, and singular
enough, far more courted than at present. The truth is, that both
high and middle class Catholics, towards the close of the eighteenth
century and in the boginning of the nineteenth, were among the ob-
jects of Protestant patronage, and could not be esteemed the objects
of Protestant jealousy. Tho land belonged to a section of its people,
and they were satisfied to be liberal and even kind, so long as their
ascendancy was unquestioned, When, however, the advances of true
political principles began to threaten their supremacy, they gathered
more closely together ; and when law, prosperity, and education began
to ruse the old race to the same platform with themselves, the " odi
pro&nnm valgus"* principle began to prevail, and the "arceo,"of
course, succeeded.

Catherine McAuley, then, had all the temptations which yonth,
beauty, fortune, and ra'-e ability encountered, particularly when
whirled along by a handsome carriage and four. How humbled and
edified wo feel when we tarn to the poor Nun in her ill-fhrnished cell,
with her broken wrist, and lonely nights all unattended ; and how
pliunly we see the ennobling grace of Qod in the only complaint which

* " I bBt« that ignorant rabble, and oommand them to stand off."— ^r. Oar,
lib. 8, od. 1.

«i

INTRODUCTION'.

escaped her when the death-congh seized her, and made her nights so
gloomj — "I so disturb the poor Sisters!"

The separation from the world, however, was not the only triamph
vhich God gave Catherine McAulej over flesh and blood, for she was
wddentlj so identified with God that, like the blessed Teresa, " she so
loved Ood for Himself alone, that she bnrued with desire for the glory
of God Almighty, and labored in the highest degree for its increase, as
well in the reform and propagation of her order, as in the admirable
doctrines she left us in her writings, and in all her actions and heroic
virtues."

Towards the end of this ivlnme, an obituary of the Foundress, by
tbe writer, then connected with education in Nova Scotia, informs the
reader of an acquaintance with Catherine McAuley, dating nearly
thirty years ago. If ever there was a time when the originator of a
great institute is particularly attached to the work, it is when first
obstacles have been overcome, and diffusive life shows the wide reign
and range the system is about to enjoy. There before the eyes is the
BQCcess — and just in its vigor too — when hope can picture nothing too
great to be achieved, and experience inspires a confidence before, per-
haps, not particularly reliant. Afterwards, when the work looks
finished, and the machinery b moved by other hands, and other minds
have made their own of its success, interest and effort may rule in
imperfect souls, but every thing natural and supernatural binds one to
the old arena at such a period as that to which we refer. It was just at
BQch a time the writer encountered Mother HcAuloy, and just at such
• time she wished to join him in a mission of charity to Nova Scotia.

Reverend Mother was a person never to be forgotten. Her face,
look, bearing, and conversation are jt.t as fresh to-day, after so many
years, as they were the evening of the day alluded to in the obituary

The fiill, steady, blue eyes, so (aiH of light, and yet not dazrJing—

" Her spirit sita aloof and high,
But glances from lier tender eye,
In sweetness droopingly ;—

The tresh, autumnal bloom of the cheek, pure and transparent fi-om
the paradise of heavenly thoughts in which she lived ; the smile, so
recollected, yet so genial, that at once won heart and confidence ; and
the bearing and conversation, in which an ei^y dignity and wonderful
fiuiility of expression combined to make her conversation something
which her auditor had' not known before, and has not since en-
oonntered.

INTRODUCTION'.

eher nights so

8 onl;» trinmpb
jd, for she was
Teresa, "she so
•e for the glory
its increase, as
I the admirable
ions and heroic

J Foundress, by
tia, informs the
, dating nearly

originator of a
it is when first
) the wide reign
) the eyes is the
;ure nothing too
mce before, per-
the work looks
and oUier minds
Tort may rale in
iiral binds one to
•, It was just at
and jast at snch
' to Nora Scotia,
itten. Her face,
y, after so many

in the obituary
not dazriing—

ransparent firom
id ; the smile, so
confidence; and
ty and wonderful
jation something
IS not sinoe en-

"But, Reverend Mother, how oonid yon think of leaving yonr great
Institute, and burying yourself in a poor province ?"

" We have plenty of Sisters more than able to supply my place," she
replied, " and I may be tit for the rough work to be encountered in a
new region. Try me. When I was young I often heard, 'Go to
Nova Scotia,' said to some one who was importunate, or incredulous,
or something ebe. Perhaps I may be fortunate enough to 'go to
Nova Scotia.' "

" Time mast be taken, Reverend Mother. The soil must be pre-
pared, or no growth can be expected. Were you to go now, yourself
and the Sisters who might accompany you, would, in all likelihood, be
the first and last Nuns in Halifax. Vocations must come from an ad-
vanced state of religion and education."

It would be difiioult to picture her smile of incredulity and her
gentle movement of the head as she replied :

"Ah, Father, yon mistake. Tou have often seen a recruiting part}
come into a town or city. No^ne appeared anxious to become a
soldier. The men who enlisted were not seen; or if seen, no one, not
even themselves, dreamed of their patting on the red coat. But the
drum, and fife, and cockade, aroused new thoughts, new hopes, and
new projects, and the recruiting party is soon followed by a new sup-
ply for the ranks. Make the experiment 1"

How the writer had the courage to refuse, it is very hard indeed to
explain. Of course, it would be necessary to obtain the consent of the
Archbishop ; but at any rate, the writer had the weakness to fear the
experiment, and he lost such a light and guide of life as is twice
offered to very fo^T clergymen. The whole scene and circumstance
would be of little importance unless in the life of a holy personage,
whom we may hope at some time to see placed upon our altars. In
tuis regard, a word or even a look, may well be deemed a treasure i
and the conversation above set down is therefore repeated almost
word for word, as far as memory permits it — and memory in this case
fs sot likely to fail.

Withont paying any compliment which the relations of this volume
with the Order would render importune, it may >~e sud that the his-
tory of the Sisters of Mercy has been like a continuation of the life of
the Foundress, multiplied. We see her everywhere and in every
thing — the image of her work in all the image and feeling of the
Sisterhood. It is not too much to say that the following life will do
much to deepen the lines of resemblance between (he various Convents
of the Order, by impr^sin^ the rising generation of yonug I^igious

)

-i

■.. .a^.^'/T^rrw^^^**' '•

UTTRODUCTION.

with the exact views and special virtues of their Fonndress. In fact,
the book will, and ought to be, read as a hand-book of th novitiate.
There is no such power of perpetuity in a religions body ns tliat de-
rived from identity of object and operation ; firstly, because that gives
to each convent a force, strength, and stability equal to the moral in-
fluence of all ; but, secondly, and more particularly, because deviationi,
from the tievot of the foundert ofreligiout ordtrny are ordinarily de-
tiiitiont from the will of God, by which the founder has been inspired.
" Reforms" and " Restoration*," thereafter, are the symbols of weak-
ness, and they are also proofs that the Holy Church pronounces sen-
tence on the first change.

The life of Catherine McAuley will have another claim upon the
Order and the public — that it is a history of the Sisters of Mercy. The
gradual development — the foundation first intended only for the poor
of Dublin — the establishment in Kingstown, Garlow, and TuUamore—
the taking possession of the ancient Convent in Limerick city— the
opening of Bermondsey and Birmingham and all the rest, will snpply
to the Order, to the public, and to the families of the devoted Re-
ligious, a reference in times to come, by which the germs shall be
traced of a work educational, philanthropic, and religious, that already
fills the mind of the world. Without this history, too, Reverend
Mother could no more be seen than an unknown historical character
alone in a picture. We contemplate her in the multitude of her oc-
cupations, never changing temper or temperament; always in her
place, in chapel, choir, and cell, and always fnlly occupied by matters
that would take her away from such duties : ever and ever consulted,
interrupted, importuned, now by the scruples of a novice, again by
the complaints of a tradesman, but always the same ; needing money,
and not knowing where to look for it ; advice, and having no one to
give it ; needing rest and quiet, — ever impossible ; but all the time the
light of a happy heart in her smile, and of unshaken confidence in her
calm, mild eye^. The history of the Order is as necessary, to know
and appreciate Reverend Mother, as the events of his career are, to
become acquainted with a warr'ar or statesman. Mere description is
nearly useless for such a purpose.

And the same may be said of another fcatnre in this book — the
interior life of a convent. The portnrbation of poor Sister Mary
Teresa, tlte "cell regulator," when all the cells had been filled, and
" two new Sisters" wee announced to have arrived ; the running to
Beverend Mother to know where they are to sleep ; and the answer,
ao full of sweet contert and quiet Joy, and so contagious, too, are all of

' •^iArMei^tmSaik^'tiik

INTRODUCTION.

resg. In fact,
th- novitiate,
xly as Uiat de-
EU1S6 that gives
) the moral in-
,ase detiationt,
ordinarily de-
\ been inspired,
nbols of weak-
ironounoes sen-

;laim upon the
of Mercy. The
aly for the poor
nd Tullamore—
lerick city— tho
rest, will snpply
be devoted Re-
germs shall be
)us, that already
, too, Reverend
toriool character
titude of her oo-
always in her
ipied by matters
1 ever consulted,
novice, again by
needing money,
having no one to
t all the time the
confidence in her
aessary, to know
lis career are, to
ere description is

a this book— the
joor Sister Mary
d been filled, and
i ; tho running to
and the answer,
ous,too, are all of

them tin tings which bring out the great features of t^^e character we
want to study. And so of the countless journeys hither and thither,
and tlte teaming consolations which made "the sun shine almost too
brightly," because the soul was so full of light. The begging of
prayers for such a house and such an object; the conversations at the
death-bed of a Sister dear to her, and (he call to the parlor to receive
a cup of bitterness from pride — which repaid itself for helping her by
ofibnding her — and .the imperturbable calmness with which she bore
it ; the supplying of the little ribbons and bits of silk to the sweet
Sister whose last days were soothed by the hope of supplying " a poor
hawker's basket" coming on the festival of our Patron Saint; the
charming lessons on " reserve," humility, and hope ; in a word, the
life of Ohrist in her, and her wonderful communication to the nuns of
the singleness of purpose, self-sacrifice, and prayerfnlnes-i, which made
all the actions of her children the operations of the indwelling spirit
of Jesus — are simply and affectionately brought out in these pages, and
they give us a view, of the Foundress of the Order of Meroy, which
the Catholic Oharob, and many a one in the Protestant communions,
w^ill value.

A list of the Convents of Mercy throughout tho world is added at
the end of the work, and an obituary of the nuns. The convents will
be fonnd to number over two hundred, and the " Gliildren of Bene-
diction," who gained their lives by losing them, over three hundred.
During thirty years, between endowments and tiie surplus dowries* of
tlieir children, the fathers of the Irish race have expended Mten hun-
dred thouiand pounds for the poor and ignorant, through thie Order
alone, and given their children's litet besides. For it will be recollected
that in Ireland, ?tc., the interest of her inheritance must support every
lady who becomes a Sister of Mercy.

What Catherine McAaley was can never be entirely known unless to
God, and her character and praise are in her mission and its fruits.
She was established by Glod " to go forth and bear fruit ; and that her
fruit should remain,"t the Gabriel of a new message, and the Raphael
of new blessings to the world and the poor. ^Vhat God may intend
to reveal cannot be foreseen, and what Ha has revealed in her regard
is not entirely known ; but it cannot surprise* any one, if the title of
this little book at some future period shall be changed by the command
of Heaven, and the aureola of sanctity surround its pages. Further the
writer, at this present time, dares not go— not because facts are want-

• Excew of dowry above £500.

t John, xvi. 16.

INTBODUCTION.

ing, bat beoanse prudence is supposed to forbid. He begs leave to
oonolude this too lengthy introduction'*' bj lines which, for the sake of
the subject, ought not to be allovred to smk into oblivion :

LINES ON THE DEATH OF REV. MOTHER CATHERINE MoAULE"?.
Sbb has passed away forever, bnt the sanligbt of her hrow
Still brightens o'er the lonely home that weeps in sorrow now :
Though the lips we loved are silent, still the pleading voice we hear
And the soft, low tones of melody full sweetly on O'lr ear.
She bos faded I but the fragrance of her gentle virtues yet
Wafts memories of the sanctified we never can forget ;
And the gleaming of her glorious robe— the radiance of her crown,
From her throne of bliss in heaven are still beaming brightly down.

Tes, sainted Mother Catherine, in the fulness of thy love,
Thou art with us, though thy spirit dwells beatified above ;
Thou ort near us in thy children, who work for us day by day.
When they dry the tear of angaish from the orphan's cheek away ;
And they whisper words of comfort to the heart bowed down with grief,
And to nakedness and hunger bring the tidings of relief;
And they lift fVom off the mourner's heart awhile its load of care,
And, with words of fuith and hope, they chase the demon of despair.

r,^

And when sitting by the lonely hearth, they speak of Him who diod,
And they place the child of wretchedness by gentle Miiry's side 1
When they see the tear-drop glisten on the cheek of aged crime.
Bringing back once more the blessings of a sinless, happy time ;
When they watch the wearied spirit wing its parting flight away,
And they soothe the mourner's weeping o'er the cold and senseless ciny ;
When they teach the young to follow in the footsteps He has trod,
And then kneel down to offer all these works of love to Qod ;—

Oh I 'tis in that hour that gratitude no tongue can ever tell.

And the peace no words can ever speak, draw round us like a spoil ;

And (hen humbly gating heavenward, with eyes of faith, we sea

How our blessed Lord is helping all who serve Him faithfully.

And those so faithful, who are they t— they are with you everywhora—

In the hospital, the prison, in the homos of sin and cnre ;

And briitht angels hovtr near to guard them whore tliey stay.

For the llghi of Mkbot gaidos them. Sister-angola, on their way 1 1

* The above Inti -eduction was written by the Venerable Arohdeaeon
O'Brien, D. D., etc., who, as n-iend, )>eMcnictor, or spiritual director, has been
oonneotv ' with the Order of Moroy for about thirty years.

fThe above tines were written in 1841, by Mlts Elisabeth R , of Carlow,

-Hk young lady who was for some time In the novitiate under Mother MoAuley,
bat was obllgsd to leave on account of llliboaltb.

begs leave to
for the sake of

S'2 MoAULET.

low:

e we hear

er crown,
tly down.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

day,

ek away ;
own with grief,

I of core,
I of despair.

T» wlio diod,
f's Bide 1
, crime,
r time ;
It away,

1 aenselesB day ;
lias trod,
lod;—

ell,

ike a spoil ;

weiee
fully.

everywhor* —

stay,

leir way 1 1

arable Arohdeaoon
director, ha» been

R , of Carlow,

r Mother MoAuley,

CHAPTER I.

Womati Hi the Church.— " The devout sex."— General oharooterUtios of
Catbjrine MoAuley.

WOMAN ministered to Jesus when Pharisees scoffed at Him ;
she followed Jesns when Apostles fled : as sinless and as
penitent, she stood by Him in the hour of his ignominy: last at
the cross, sBo was first at the sepulchre ; and, at the very dawn of
Christianity, if excluded from the higher functions of the Apostle*
ship, she is ever ready to perform the works of mercy in the infant
Church, and to " wash the feet of the Saints." In every subse
queut age, the sex which the Church styles " the devout" hat
proved, in numerous instances, that physical weakness does not
necessarily imply spiritual inferiority; and of this the subject oi
these pages will give additional and illustrious proof.

But in the whole range of Christian biography it ^ould not be
easy to find a life so replete with beautifiil and interesting incidents
of the most opposite nature. We shall see Catherine McAuloy,
now as almost a beggar, again as heiress of immense wealth.
Reared among Protestants whom she loved wiih deep aff' jlion, yet
openly professing the persecuted creed they so scornf .iiy ignored.
Prejudiced to an almost insuperable extent against conventual
life, yet gathering around her In rigid monastic discipline a galaxy
of the noble, the gifted, and the beautiful. Casting away wealth an
if it wfiv an encnmbn^nce, yet ref^ing to loan the trifling sum of

,:--'^,|lllilJ|lllni|lll|l.lllllllllliPP.»

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

flye pounds to a titled lady. Now clothed in purple and fine linen ;
again weeping and praying for hoars before her Calvary. To-day she
refuses a high matrhnonial alliance ; ere midnight she is handed from
sentinel to sentinel on the military road. To-day she is w aited on by
the most illustrious ecclesiastics in the three kingdonis ; to-morrow
she describes herself as biding from the sheriff. Now she almost
sinks beneath the weight of her heavy crosses ; and again she
complains that "the sun shone too brightly," because her soul
was flooded with supernatural light Capable of explaining, with
superhuman eloquence, the deep things of asceticism, yet ever
seeking to instruct the most ignorant in the rudiments of Chris-
tianity. Overwhelmed with the most distracting business, yet ever
placid and recollected. Rigorous to self to a degree which God
alone can know, yet tenderly compassionate to all others. Astute
as a diplomatist, yet simple as a little child. Conferring fovors as if
the recipient obliged her b ; accepting them, yet never receiving the
smallest without gratitude. We shall see her as a dependent on
the bounty of her friends, as the fondled idol of a luxurious home,
as the kind nurse of her adopted parents, as the youthful mother
of all the poor in her vicinity, as the friend of several of the great
personages of her time, as the Foundress of a new religious Insti-
tute, and the exemplar and support of its members. Now she
kneels to implore protection for a poor girl in danger, and again
she enters the abode of sin, to snatch from a fate immeasurably
worse than death, one whose beauty is about to become her corse.
She courageously upbraids a great lawyer who would sully the fair
fame of her prot6g6e ; and years after, he acknowledgcE that
her very look reclaimed him, and that the remembrance of it was
his safeguard through life.

Catherine was sensitive as a m?t) .->>«► yot brave as a royal oak ;
gifted with a high degree of the m'l i< K' humor pecoiiar to her
country-people, yet incapable of wo4; ■■.-.< the most sensitive, or
displeasing the most fastidious ; prudebt in the loftiest sense of
the word, yot ever ready to listen with respect to the opinions of
others ; habitually gay, yet never losing that retenue so strongly
recommended by ( he old spiritualists, and which we can hardly ex-
press in English Familiar with the hidden weaknesses of her

'iM^-'-nffisii-

LIFB OF OATHEBIKE HOAULXT.

indfi DO linen;
^. To-day she
9 handed from
! waited on by
3 ; to-morrow
)w she almost
md again she
rase her sool
iplaining, with
ism, yet ever
ents of Chris-
iness, yet erer
Be which God
hers. Astnte
ng favors as if
: receiving the

dependent on
xurious home,
uthfnl mother
il of the great
religious Insti-
Brs. Now she
;er, and again

immeasurably
}me her curse.
1 sally the fair
owledgcc that
ince of it was

s a royal oak ;
lecoiiar to her
t sensitive, or
ftiest sense of
:he opinions of
te so strongly
can hardly cx-
inesses of her

BjNritual children, yet conscious only of their nobler qualities.
Losing by death, or otherwise, every one she held dear,. yet in old
age continuing to build up her Institute with all the ardor of
youth. Magnificent in her conceptions, yet scmpuloos in their
least details. Gifted with an intellect of the highest order, yet ca-
pable of inspiring mediocre, or even low capacities, to do great
things for God. Able to wield the pen with the grace of a Se-
vignd and the wisdom of a Mauitenon, yet not above directing
seamstresses or presiding in a laundry. Polite as a Chesterfield,
yet without a particle of human respect ; bland as a courtier, yet
choosing to wear out her life among beggars : vigorous of consti-
tution, yet able to sympathize with the weakly. Gracious, benign,
beloved, and revered, she was capable of impressing the most spir-
itual men of her time with exalted ideas of her sanctity. Like
Queen Esther, she could make the most of her beauty when occa-
sion required ; like Nano Nagle, she glories in being the slave of
the poor-; like St. Vincent, she is indefatigable in action ; like St.
Teresa, she is assiduous in contemplation ; like St. Francis of
Sales, she is the essence of meekness. A poet by nature, yet tho
most practical woman of her age ; a Superior, but ever seeking to
obey ; possessing almost absolute authority, but using it only to
lessen the labors of others and increase her own. Genial, tender,
and compassionate, none could regard her with indifference, none
could approach her and not carry away some impress of her good-
ness. And all her rare and magnificent endowments she turned to
one object — the glory, the sole glory, the greater glory of God I

Her community is reduced to one professed, and her novices
grieve almost as they do who have no hope ; but the day of be-
reavement she emphatically styles " the day the Lord haih made.'*
" If all Christians," says she, " are bound to receive afflictions with
resignation, we should surely receive them with gratitude and joy."
Like Rachel, she mourns for her children ; but she does not refuse
to be comforted, for she delights in forming a "community in
heaven." From childhood, not even an enemy could charge her
with a fault ; and when she was censuredy it was for virtue too
sublime for even the good to appreciate.

The sanctity of every servant of God is unlike th«t of all others.

'i
'I

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

In many things they all agree, in some they all differ. Charity
alone makes the Saint ; there is no other road to high or iov sanc-
tity. Bnt each practises this virtue in a peculiar fashion : and
hence with perfect propriety the Church may sing of every one of
her confessors : " There was none found like this one for observing
the law." But charity was the grand characteristic of Catherine ;
it clothed her like a garment ; she appeared to practise it without
effort. In this virtue, at least, she possessed that " facility" which
Benedict XIV. ascribes to heroic sanctity. Urged by love, she
gave herself and all she possessed, without any reserve, to God ;
and she deemed the honor of serving Him in His poor, more than
a sufficient reward for her immense and unceasing labor. She had
given " the whole substance of her house for love, and she despised
it all as nothing."

Such is the grand whole which presents itself in luxuriant beauty
to the biographer ; su h are the great outlines of the character
whose history these pages will record. At first sight it strikes us
as a vision of things too good for earth ; and doubt might well
mingle with our admiration, did not " her works remain to praise
her in the gate."

Beautiful as an Arabian tale, few lives can sarpass this in ro-
mantic incident. No painter would mingle lights and shades so
daringly on his canvas ; no musician would scatter his lentoa and
aUegroa in such reckless profusion ; no novelist would outrage
probability by exhibiting his heroine under aspects so varied ; no
poet would admit ingredients so diverse into his epic ; and here,
as in so many other instances, the feeble, Qickering flame of the
most highly wrought fiction, pales before the calm, steady light oi
tmtb.

Ifer. Charity
h or low sane-
fashion : and
f every one of
! for observing
of Catherine ;
tise it without
facility" which
J by love, she
erve, to God ;
>or, more than
bor. She had
id she despised

xuriant beauty
the character
:ht it strikes ns
ibt might well
main to praise

tass this in ro-
and shades so

his lento8 and
would outrage

BO varied ; no
pic ; and here,
; flame of the
steady light oi

CHAPTER II.

Dublin.— Baggtot-btreet Ilouse, 182"/.— Era of the Emancipation.— Openingr of
tlie year 1787.— ApOHtaay of Lord Dunboyne.— Birtli of Catherine.— Differ-
ence of states'.ie.its aa to the year of her birth.— An Eastern tradition.— Keli-
([ioua state c/ !rol«nd in the 18th century.— '« /*#, MUta iii<."— Extract from
. Gorrea.- A tngedy.— The Earl of Cheaterflold, viceroy.— He permite tlie
reopening of »onie old Cntholio churches. — Attempt)) to open sohooU.— -
Nano Nagle. — Princess Louise.

DUBLIN, the far-fomed and beautiful metropolis of the Emer^
aid Isle, lies pictured in our mind's eyes, with its magnificent
Churches, its noble institutions for the relief of every species of
human misery, its colleges, its schools, its spacious streets, its flowery
suburbs ; and the picture is one whose beauty Time, the great de-
stroyer, will rather enhance than diminish. Well may the scattered
children of Erin be proud of the lovely capital of their native land I
Well may the poor emigrants, who cro. il the decks of vessels
destined to bear them JfVom their poor but happy homes, weep to
leave a country, which, viewed from the sea at any point, seems a
fairyland of beauty I Should they catch their last glimpse of Erin
from Dublin Bay, how enchanting the scene I Whether the gray
mists of morning steep the sleeping city ; or the full blaze of noon-
tide gild its numerous domes, villas, and palatial residences ; or
the mellow light of evening bathes, as in a flood of tenderness,
beauties soon to become invisible to their tearful eyes, and far from
their loving hearts ; — the view of Dublin is exquisitely lovely. But
there is a deeper cause for tears. They leave behind, psrhape,
parents who reared them, brothers and sisters that love them, the
friends of their youth, the companions of their riper years. Will
they ever meet such friends, such companions, again ? Can any
country become more sacred to them than that which contains be-
neath its green sward the crumbling bones of theur sainted fore-
fathers ?

i^L.

LIFE OF cathebhtb mcaulet.

Nov, if the rc-adcr sliould have a small portion of that innate
facility for gitemng, so highly developed in the thrifty denisena of
New England, it will be superflaoos to say that we are about to
take him to Dublin. Busy Imagination will gladly lend her wingn
for the excursion. But onr destination is not to its miniature pal-
aces, nor yet to admire the " frozen music" of its architectural
grandeurs ; neither do we purpose to w&nder among its eloquent
ruins, and trace in its shattered marbles the glories of happier
days. There is one spot dearer to us than all these. Yon will
find it towards the end of Lower Baggot^treet, on the southern
side of the city. Here, a large house, quite detached from the
neighboring buildings, will at once attract your attention. That
is the cradle of the Order of Mercy. Go back in thought to the
year 1 827. The noble pile has been just erected. Enter. Behold
the saintly Foundress surrounded by a small but devoted band,
who, guided by her example rather than her words, astonish all by
the heroism of their virtues. When our readers shall have become
familiar with the history of Catherine and her associates, tb3
zeal with which they sought out and relieved mental and bodily
suffering, the virtues of their iuterior lives, and the wonderful things
ther effected for God's glory, they may well exclaim : " There
were giants on the earth in those days." There was certainly one
giant, if we may judge of her prowess by the magnitude of the
work which the Divine aid enabled her to accomplish in the Church.
A more auspicious era than 1821 could scarcely be selected for
the establishment of a Catholic Institute. It was just before
Emancipation was wrung from the fears of the British Govern-
ment, notwithstanding the rash, unchristian oath of the Bishop of
Osnaburg.* The Catholics of Ireland were united as one man,
and obstinately determined to conquer or die in the strife for re-
ligious liberty. The Catholic Association was in the zenith of its
fame ; its honored walls echoed the soul-stirring eloquence of
O'Connell, and the gifted Shiel was gathering in a noble cause his
most glorious laurels. The enthusiasm of this period has seldom
been surpassed in any country. It was indeed a fitting epoch to

* Frederick, Duke of York, heir presumptive to the orowa.

f that innate
ty denisena of
are aboat to
end her wingti
miniature pal-
architectural
f its eloquent
es of happier
se. Yoa will
the Boathem
hed from the
entioD. That
bought to the
nter. Behold
ievoted band,
istonish all by
II bare become
iffiodates, tbs
»1 and bodily
>uderful things
aim: "There
I certainly one
^nitude of the
in the Church.
i)e selected for
IS just before
ritlsh Qovern-
the Bishop of
1 as one man,
le strife for re-
e zenith of its
: eloquence of
loble cause his
od has seldom
tting epoch to

I orowu.

LIFE or CATHXBHrX MOAULET.

inaugurate in the capital the Institute of Mercy, which, like the
leafy branches of a magnificent tree, has since spread itself OTer
the world, affording food and shelter to thousands.

But we must go back forty years farther. The year 1781
opened gloomily on the Irish Church. Dr. Butler, Bishop of Cork,
exchanged his mitre for an earldom, and his apostasy was esteemed
a greater calamity than the enactment of ten new penal laws ; a
calamity for which his repentance some years later seemed but a
poor reparation. Pafore the end of that year, however, a child
was born, who was destined to win back hundreds to the One
Fold, to remove the prejudices of thousands, and even to establish
in the fine Catholic city, whose shepherd had just proved himself a
hireling, a convent whose members might bring more glory to the
Church than this sad defection had robbed her of.

Catherine EuzA^EIH McAclet was bom on the Feast of St.
Michael, September 29, 1781, at Stormanstown House, County
Dublin.* Her parents, James and Eleanor McAuley, were both
of ancient and respectable Catholic families, nor were her ancestom
all undistinguished in ttie annals of her country. Yet poor is the
glory to be gathered on the field, or at the council board, com-
pared with that which has cast its aureola around Catherine ; and
if her race were destined to terminate with her, the star of her
family had set with more than meridian splendor. She was the first
of three children that blessed the happy union of her parents.

" C«tlierlD«'i gfodohild, atill IWng, gives the date of her birth 1704, while her
friend, Very Kev. Dean Goffrey, whdin M. Mnry V. Hartnett has copied, give*
it 1778. Her brother, Dr. James McAuley, tolu the Sisters at the time of her
death, that she had Just attained her fifly-fourth year; contiequently she was
liorn in 1787. It is ourious that M. V . Hartnett should describe lier as yonnff
and beautiful when she became an liviress, wlien, according to her olironology,
slie was then forty-four. Now beauty is seldom retained to so advanced an
ago, and youth never. Dr. O'Brien h«d an interview with her in 1838, of which
liis memory is so tenacious that he sayi, " tiie loolt, bearing, and oonvcreution,
are Ktill us tVcKh in his mind as the day tlio interview took pliioe." Yot, "the
full, Btoody, blue eye, so full of light, and tlie freiih bloom of the pure, trunspa-
reiit cheek," which iha venerable Ar«hdoacon so happily dencribos, could
scarcely belong to a woman of sixty. It will be seen that 1778 and 1787 are
composed of the same figures, and oua .might be easily written or printed in
mistake for the other.

LIFK OF CATHSBIKE MCAULET.

An Eastern tradition relates that when the holy infant Mary
appeared to bless the declining years of St. Joachim and St. Anne,
the former, little anticipating the glorious destiny to be fulfilled in
bis fair child, the peerless and Immacalate Virgin, regretted that he
had not become the father of a son ; but St. Anne comforted him by
relating a vision she had had, indicative of her child's future great-
ness. We know not whether the pious father of our little Cathe'
rine entertained similar thoughts with reference to his new-bom
babe, but we do know, that had he been able to penetrate the
veil of futurity, had be been vouchsafed a glimpse of the work
she was destined to accomplish, bad he beheld the virgins that
would follow in her train, had he seen her spiritual children, numer-
ous as the stars of heaven, rise up and call her blessed, he would
have pressed his fragile infant to his manly bosom with feelings
akin to reverence, and, in the fulness of his heart, thanked God iur
having made him the happy father of such a child I

As every age leaves its impress, more or less, on those it ushers
Into being, we shall here pause to consider the religious state of
Ireland during the eighteenth century.

This century opened with the barbarous penal code in full force.
The condition of the people in general was more deplorable than
any thing we can imagine at this distant period. Degradation re-
sulted from continual persecution, ignorance of religion (torn
dearth of pastors, and literary destitution from want of schools ;
for Ireland, which in bygone days had provided founders and pro-
fessors for the greatest universities in Europe, did not now possess
one Catholic school. The people knew only Jesus Christ and Him
crucified. They regarded their Faith as the one thing necessary,
and they kept it through evil report and good, though its bright
light was, in many instances, obscured by ignorance and supersti-
tion, natural consequences of the cruel rigime to which they were
unhappily subjected. Many of the best fantUles preferred the
inconveniences of exile to the dangers and penalties of living at
home, but the poor, who had no other resource, clung to their
wretched country, buoyed up, perhaps, with the hope of better
times.

What a sad contrast to the picture Gdrres has left ub of Ireland

LIFE OF CATHERIKE HCAULET.

ly infant Mary
I and St. Anne,

be falflUed in
jetted that be
nforted him by
's fatare great*
>nr little Cathe>
his new-bora
) penetrate the
je of the work
lie virgins that
ihildren, numer-
essed, he woald
n with feelings
hanked God for
I

those it nshera
eligious state of

de in full force,
deplorable than
Degradation re-
religion f^om
Eint of schools ;
inders and pro-
Dot now possess
Christ and Him
thing necessary,
oagh its bright
:e and supersti-
irhich they were
3 preferred the
ties of living at
, clung to their
hope of better

eft us of Ireland

In the Ages of Faith : " Monasteries and schools flourished on all
sides : and as the former were distinguished for their austere disci-
pline and ascetic piety, so the latter were conspicuous for their
cultivation of science. While the flames of war were blazing
around her, the Green Isle enjoyed the sweets of repose. When
we look into the ecclesiastical life of this people, we are tempted to
believe that some pptent spirits had transported over the sea the
cells of the valley of the Nile, with all their hermits, its monaste-
ries with all their inmates, and had settled them down in the West-
era Isle ; — an isle which, in the lapse of three centuries, gave eight
hundred and fifty saints to the Church ; won over to Christianity
the north of Britain, and soon after, a large portion of the yet
pagan Germany ; and, while it devoted the utmost attention to
the sciences, cultivated with especial care the mystical contempla-
tion in her religious communities, as well as in the saints whom
they produced."

But in the eighteenth century. Catholicity seemed crushed
beyond all hope of resuscitation. Yet as often as the Church has
been "doomed to death," so often has she proved that she is "fated
not to die." The profane wits of the Revolution had shouted
"Ite, Missa Est," after their fugitive monarch, but they were mis-
taken. Even while they uttered their ribald jests, the unspotted
Victim, the clean oblation, the Lamb that taketh away the sins of
the world, was offered to the' Father, in the upper chamber of many
a house, in many a well-guarded "Mass-field," where the blue
heavens formed the canopy, and the tangled branches of trees were
as the vaulted roof of the Cathedral. The fragrant incense no
longer wafted its wreaths heavenward, but the sighs of contrite
hearts ascended thither ; the glorious ritual of Rome was no longer
triumphantly chanted, but it was still whispered in secret by a
faithful generation ; the pomp and pageantry of the ancient faith
were no longer witnessed in those sublime edifices which that faith
alone could raise, but a Church that had grown and waxed strong
in dungeons and catacombs, could be at no loss for places in which
to celebrate her tremendous mysteries.

Many a heathen tyrant had desired to glorify his reign, by exter-
minating the rery name of Christianity in the world-wide domain

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

of ancient Rome. Maximin eren boasted that he had seen this
Tictory achieved. Yet some who had heard his vain boast, lived
to see Christianity commence, on the seven hills of imperial Home,
her eternal reign destined to extend to realms the most ambitions
of the Caesars never dreamt of. And though the '' Qentiles raged,
and the people devised vain things, and the kings of the earth
stood np against the Lord and against His Christ," and the best
blood in many lands has been nhed and is still being shed, no
hnman power can prevail against the indestmctible Church, and
Miasa Est will never be true otherwise than as that Church under-
stands it.

Thus Catherine's father could remember the time when a chief-
justice declared that " the laws did not presume a papist to exist
in the kingdom of Ireland ;" but let the persecution cease for a
while, remove the pressure of the penal laws, and the Church will
be seen to rise phoenix-like from her ashes, immortal in her youth,
but venerable in her antiquity ; transcendent in her bcaaty, though
she wears the stigmata of persecution ; without spot or wrinkle,
though the world and hell have done their worst npon her ; the
beauteous Bride of the Lamb, ever adorned and ever adorning her-
self to meet her Spouse in heaven I

The first gleam of hope that burst npon the persecuted race,
was the result of a tragic event which occurred in 1745, and which
Catherine's father well remembered. *0n St. Patrick's day, a cour-
ageous priest having rentured to celebrate Mass in a large store
in Cook-street, Dublin, the people assembled in immense crowds to
assist at the Holy Sacrifice. Mothers held up their little ones to
gaze on the mde altar ; every one must see the priest, every one
must hear his voice. It is St. Patrick's day, and all are eager to
confess the faith which St. Patrick preached to thehr ancestors.
But no house could contain such multitudes ; the building gave
way ; many were maimed and bruised, and the ofQciating priest,
with nine of his flock, became martyrs on the spot ! Shocked at
this tragedy, the Earl of Chesterfield, then viceroy, moved by pity
rather than by a sense of justice, connived at the reopening of a
few old Catholic chapels. There remained unnoticed for years,
their respective congregations quietly but steadily increasing. Fo*

LIFB OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

had seen this
lin boast, lived
imperial Home,
noist ambitions
Qentiles raged,
s of the earth
," and the best
being shed, no
lie Church, and
; Church under-

3 when a chief-
papist to exist
ion cease for a
the Church will
al in her youth,
beauty, though
ipot or wrinkle,
upon her ; the
er adorning her-

persecnted race,
1145, and which
ck's day, a cour-
in a lai^e store
uense crowds to
iir little ones to
priest, every one
all are eager to
their ancestors,
"le building gare
)fficiating priest,
)t ! Shocked at
', moved by pity
) reopening of a
oticed for years,
increasing. Fo-

Iltical reasons, not the least of which was the success of the Amer
ican Revolution, moved the Government to make a few " conces
aions to His Majesty's Catholic subjects," and gave rise to hopes
not folly realized till 1829, when the barbarous code that would
have disgraced even a Nero, was almost entirely wiped from the
statute-book.

While, however, the penal laws were still in full force, a school
was opened in Corlt by the devoted Nano Nagle, the reviver of
education and monasticism in Ireland. And here it may not be
out of place to give the reader a glance at the history of that illus-
trious woman. Bom in 1728, of an ancient family which had re
mained true to the faith through all the horrors of persecution,
she was, while still a child, sent to France to acquire an education
suitable to her rank. Noble Irish families then moved in the high-
est French society, and Miss Nagle, gifted as she was with beauty
and talent, bad no tooner completed her studies than she plunged
into the vortex of fashionable life with all the ardor of her impetu-
ous nature. The star wherever she appeared, she shone with pecu-
liar lustre at the brilliant Court of Louis XV. Indeed, her pious
mother sometimes wept over the frivolity of her beautiful daugh-
ter; but her father was not the only one who protested that
" after all there was something good in poor Honorie." The world
never completely dried up her heart, and amid all her levity she
still retained one good quality, which is never the only good one
in the soul that possesses it — compassion for the poor. Ere she
had completed her twentieth year, an occurrence seemingly acci-
dental changed the whole tenor of her life ; and to her fidelity lo
grace on that occasion is due the salvation of innumerable souls.
Returning one morning from a ball, she observed a group of poor
people at the gate of a church, waiting for admission, that they
might consecrate to the Author of their being the actions of the
day, and beg His blessing through the merits of the Divine Victim
then about to be offered up. A mingled feeling of shame and sor-
row stole upon her as she contrasted their humble, fervent piety,
with the illusions of the scene firom which she had recently passed,
and grace touched her heart with such jwrerful effect, that from a
fine, fashionable lady, she became a i A and humble follower of

LIFE OF CATUKKINIE JS^AXTLVT.

the Cross. Hence we find her no more in the salons of Paris ; her
fntare home is the dingy schoolroom, where half by stealth she
contrives to assemble poor children, or the dismal garrets and half-
entombed cellars, where the sick and the destitute wasted away
nncared for and nnknown. Her director, Ber. Father Doran, an
Irish Jesuit, approved of her design of devoting her life and her
wealth to tLe education of the poor in her native land.

To advance this object, she tried to prevail on some French Ur-
Bulines to accompany her to Ireland ; but their superiors being an-
willing to allow them to risk their lives in the cause, she was
obliged to wait until some Irish ladies whom she bad induced to
make their novitiate at Dieppe, were ready to undertake the peril-
ous enterprise of restoring monastic discipline in that land of perse-
cution. Meanwhile she built in Cork a convent for their recep-
tion — the first erected in Ireland since the Reformation.

Little did the French Ursulines who refused to aid Miss Nagle
imagine, that a few years later, when all the convents of their own
country wonld be abandoned and their inmates exiled or guillo-
tined, their Irish Sisters would be firmly established in the land
they deemed ' secure ; and the penal laws repealed or fallen mto
desuetude, tl ild be able to open their hearts and homes to

many unfortunate emigries* especially those of their own Order.

On their homeward journey, the Irish Ursulines enjoyed the hos-
pitality of the Royal Abbey of St. Denis, in which the Princess
Looise Marie, daughter of Louis XY. and Marie of Poland, was
then a novice. This high-born lady, who had cheerfully exchanged
the gorgeous robes of a daughter of France for the coarse serge of
a poor Carmelite, treated the Irish Religious with peculiar ^ ind-
ness, assured them of frequent remembrance in her prayers, and
when she learned the object of their dangerous mission, enthusias-
tically exclaimed : " Oh that I could accompany yon t Your des-

* Mmdimes d« St. Jeim White, Ste. H^Idne de Kavanagh, Keatinge, Bastia,
Cinqnemara, d^c. The number of Irish names found among the French aris-
tocracy, may be partly accounted for by the fact that many of the Irish who
•xiied themselves with the Stuarts, 1689, never returned to their native land.
Their descendants continued to share the Chateau St. Germain with the Scotch
•nd Kngliah exiles, long after the death of Maria Beatrix, iu loat royal inm«(«.

LIFE OF CATHKSINE IIOAULBY.

4»

I of Paris ; ber
by stealth she
arrets and half-
e wasted away
kther Doran, an
ier life and her
md.

ome French Ur-
jetiors being nn-
3 cause, she waa

had indnced to
lertake the peril-
lat land of perse"
it for their recep-
lation.

> aid Miss Nagle
rents of their own

exiled or guillo-
ished in the land
Baled or fallen into
rts and homes to
their own Order.
8 enjoyed the hos-
hich the Princess
ie of Poland, was
eerfully exchanged

;he coarse serge of

ith peculiar ' ind-
her prayers, and

mission, enthusias-
you 1 Your des-

^h, Keatinge, Basti*,
jiong the French arU-
tany of the Iriah who
A to their native land.
Irmain with the Scotch
1 iu lost royal inmaU.

tiny is glorioas indeed. Happy shall I be, if I obtain a place at
your feet in heaven 1"

This amiable princess was of a singularly bright and happy dis-
}>osition. She bore the rigors of her penitential life with serenity,
or rather with joy. " Cheerfulness," she would often say, " is the
best gilding for the ronjjh pill of mortification." In the almost in-
superable difficulties of their new home, the Irish religions were
animated by the remembrance of the virtues of the royal Carmelite
who had shown herself so courteous to them, and so friendly to
their country.

In nil, Nano Kagle foanded the Presentation Order for the
education of poor children only ; but, though venerated as Found-
ress by the Ursuline and Presentation Nuns of Ireland, she never
assumed the habit of either Institute. She loved too well the de»-
olate homes of the poor and sick, and the example of Him whose
feet were wearied in seeking the lost sheep of the house of Israel,
to allow herself the comparative ease of a cloistered home. Or
rather, such was not her vocation.

Concluding a notice of this great woman, whom they justly style
" the precnr <r of the numerous establishments for religious and
literary traiuiug now so extensively diffused through Ireland," the
Christian Brothers say :

!' Without detracting in the least from the brilliant reputation
of the gifted Felicia Hemans, or the more masculine genius of ber
who has penetrated the abyss of the heavens and trod the milky
way, or the rare talents and practical wisdom of our own country-
woman who has written so ably on the duties and moralities of
social life, we venture to assert that the records of the three king-
doms cannot produce, in ancient or modem times, a female who
has achieved more for the cause of education and religion, and
proved a greater benefactress to the poor, than this lady, whose
' only monument is the institutions which she raised."

How just is this observation t For what are the sublime achieve-
ments of Felicia Hemans, Caroline Herschel, Mrs. Somerville, or
Mrs. Hail, compared to the feat she performs who rescues from
ruin or perdition the meanest among her fellow-creatures ? And
how many of these did Nano f Fagle rescue ?

wmmBmsmmmmm

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

Among the poor, in the sontheru districts of Cork, traditions of
ISTauo Nagle are not yet extinct. The aged crone will tell of a
tall, stately figure, wrapped in a long dark mantle, who glided,
spectre-like, from cellar to attic, to assist the sick. Her step was
firm, but almost noiseless, and she usually carried a lantern to guide
her through the darkness, gas not having been yet invented, The
children who met her on these missions of mercy would gaze with
awe on the mysterious figure. It would not be easy to persuade
them that she was a mortal like themselves.

Nano Kagle sleeps among the poor she loved so well ; a modest
tomb marks the sacred spot in which her remains repose.

A life-size portrait of this truly valiant woman may be seen at
the celebrated Ursuline Convent, Blackrock, Cork. She is repre-
sented seated in her dingy schoolroom, surrounded by ragged
children, whose eyes are fixed on leir benefactress with a£fection
and veneration. Though premati::-cly old, her placid face bears
traces of the beauty that charmed thousands in the gayest city of
Europe. The complexion is very {av(, the features soft, and the
mild, intelligent blue eyes beam with maternal love on her wretched
pupils. A homely muslin cap conceals the noble head, and the
figure is almost hidden in the folds of a large black shawl. The
portrait would indicate a woman of f-iy j-five or seventy, though
the original was only fifty-six at the time of her death.

The new Orders had not made much progress when they received
n terrible shock in the apostasy of Dr. Butler, Bishop of Cork.
He had arranged to officiate at the profession of an Ursuline on
the 23d of January, 1787, but instead of keeping his appointment,
he wrote a hurried apology, and sent his vicar-general in his
ctead. Next day he was Lord Dunboyne. The celebrant at a
profession is obliged to celebrate Mar,d. Perhaps the unhappy
man, whoso mind was fully made up as to his future course, shrank
from adding a sacrilegious Mass to the catalogue of his crimes.
There is scarcely any conscience so scared that it has not some ten-
der spot. 'Nothing could exceed the grief this apostasy caused ; and
when, later on, the erring shepherd was brought back by a faith-
ful nhcep (his own servant), his bitter tears of penitence and his
almost royal munificence, were deemed but a poor reparation for
the scandal he had given. ^

Lira OP CATHERINE MCAUI.KT.

, traditions of
will tell of a
, Tvho glided,
Her step was
intera to guide
avented. The
)uld gaze with
jy to persuade

i^ell ; a modest
pose.

naj- be seen at
She is repre-
ded by ragged
33 with affection
ia«id face bears
e gayest city of
es soft, and the
on her wretched
e head, and the
ick shawl. The
seventy, though
3ath.

len they received
Bishop of Cork.
' an Ursuline ou
his appointnieut,
r-general in his
3 celebrant at a
ps the unhappy
re course, shrank
ae of his crimes,
las not some tcn-
itasy caused ; and
back by a faith-
)enitcnce and his
or reparation for

In one sense, he was no loss to the new convents. He had
thrown obstacles in Miss Nagle's way, but he never gave her any
assistance or encouragement. Noticing this. Very Rev. Dominic
Murphy says :* "Those who knew him best were not surprised at
his fall. He never gave any assistance to the efforts made to pro-
mote education in his diocese, though his episcopal station, no less
than his imperative obligition of providing for the spiritual welfare
of his people, should have enlisted his wannest co-operation." May
God have received the repentance of this unfortunate prelate, who
certainly did not satisfy before his fellow-creatures for his sins.
But Qod is more merciful than man.

Most c' the particulars here recorded, concerning the first
Orders established in Ireland for educational purposes, in modern
times, might, a few years since, have been heard from an eye-wit>
ness, Mother Aloysja Moylan, the first who joined the Ursulines
after their arrival in Cork. She had known Miss NaHe in France,
but being of a delicate constitution, her friends could not for a
long time be persuaded to permit her to enter religion. A life of
seclusion agreed better with her than they anticipated ; being pro-
fessed in 1174, she survived that event seventy-two years I Her
brother Francis.f called in Miss Nagle's correspondence " The Abb6
Moylan," was raised to the See of Kerry in It 75, and translated
to that of Cork after the secession of Dr. Butler.^ He was a warm
friend to the new Orders.

Though it was not generally known that the ladies who were
stealthily gathering pupils in the suburbs of Cork were nuns, it
was often warmly debated whether their efforts ought not to bo
suppressed. For the reader will remember that the laws which
made it felony for the Irish Catholic to teach or to \cara weie still
unrepealed, and that whether the Irish got learning at home or
abroad they got it illegally. For .several years the religious dared

* In li'iH " Memoir of Nuao Nuglo," publitbed in the DubKn Review, and in
a Keparntb form.

t llur otlit' hrotiior, Qenornl Stoplion Moylan, wns nide-de-CAinp to Washing-
ton, ouininBiKiur of "Moyiun'it DrHi<oon»," &o., in the Kevoliitlonary Army.

X Dr. Btitler, better k'.nown oh Lord Diinboyne, i« lomctiineH cotit'uunded
with liie nr>meiial<e and tontenipornij-, Moat Kev. J«mee Builer, Archbishop of
Gaehel, av.tbor of Sutler's C«t«oltliui, &o.

"•»•

l*V

LIFS OF CATHERINE UCAULET.

not nssame their distinctive religious dress, and they were, day and
nijrlu, in preparati(jn for martynlom. The corporation tallied of
sclzinj^ their property, but enough could not be fcund on the prem-
ises to tempt their cupidity. On one occasion, a mob was actually
orfcanized to accomplish the chivalrous feat of setting a few pioua
ladies, and some orphans whom they sought to protect, adrift on
the world. But a member of tho corporation, who bad humanity
enough to be ashamed of such work, dissuaded his brethren from
molesting " a few old women who agree to tak6 their tea together,
and pray a little after their own fashion." He added a very con-
clusive argument : " If we annoy them too much, they'll take
away their riches and spend them elsewhere, and this will not serve
our trade."

° We hear a great deal about the march of intellect, but which
party gave greater evidence of common sense and humanity- ^not
to speak of religious toleration — the Orangemen of the last quarter
of the past century, who refrained from molesting an institution
erected in defiance of existing laws, or the enlightened Yankees of
Massachusetts, who, under a Gonstitation that guarantees religions
toleration, burned, iu 1832, a convent which was built without in-
fringing on any law ?

Nano Nagle, Mary Catherine Dawson, Aloysia Ball, Marianne
Aikenhead, and Catherine McAuley, form the small but illustrious
baud of modern Irish foundresses. Fhysically and intellectually,
tiiesc five women could hardly be surpassed ; spiritually, we must
look for their counterparts in the Lives of the Saints. We have
lingered longer than we intended over the first, and we leave the
subject almost with regret. We look at her once more, iu the
bloom of youth and beauty ; we see her a sportive clild in her
paternal home on the romantic banks of the Bluekwater ; wo
follow her to sunny France, which she loved so well. We hear
her charms sung by many a poet in the land where the age
of the great Louis had only Just terminated. Brave generals
and astute statesmen seek the honor of her hand, and her heart
sucms to desire nothing higher than the entrancing delights of
Parisian life. Yet, no sooner has God spoken one little word in
her hearty than she quita all, and chooses a life oomparad with

»■*>..

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE HOAULET.

were, day and
tion talked of
i on the prem-
b was actually
ig a few pious
itect, adrift on
had humanity
brethren from
ir tea together,
led B very con-
:h, they'll take
is will not servo

sUect, bnt which
humanity- ^not
the last quarter
g an institution
:ened Yankees of
.rantees religious
built without in-

i Ball, Marianne
nil but illustrious
nd intellectually,
iritually, we must
aints. We have
and we leave the
mce more, iu the
•tive cl'ild in her
Blackwater ; wo
> well. We hear
where the age
Brave generals
id, and her heart
incing delights of
one little word in
fe oompurad with

which the gridiron of Lawrence, or the wheel of Catherine, seems
a joyous thing. For what can be more intolerable to courtly re>
fioement than a Ufa spent in continual contact with the semi-barba-
rian poor, .vhom ignorance and oppression had almost brutalized ?
Merely to enter the cloister had not been so much, when ladies of
noble and even royal blood deemed it an honor to forsake all
things for Christ. • But look at her, persevering day after day for
thirty-six years, in her weary, thankless toil ; look at her poor
garments, the meagre fare, her ulcerated feet ;* look at her rink-
ing her life hourly in her missions of charity ; hooted by the rabble,
insnlted by the faction then in power, living amid scenes from
which the natural delicacy of her sex, refined by high breeding,
must have instinctively shrunk, and counting it all ns little for
heaven and nothing for Qod, and yon may well ask : " How did
she do it?" Natural benevolence never did so much in any one
instance, though it can do a great deal. Only one thing could ac-
complish it — Grace : the charity of Christ pressed her, and she
willingly became an outcast for her brethren.

* Uar ftut were found in tnoh a condition nftor death, thiit plly^<!oinnl« ninr-
velled how (die could have maniiged to Ktniid on tliein ; and yet i.lie never spoke
of the Intense pain tl'ey must have oauiied her, or even leHaened her laborii oo
account of it.

i , ^y( i !fwt'.. '-

CHAPTER III.

JamcH McAnlejr, Esq.— Hiii zr ' for inxtructinjr oliildren.— Little Catheriu
Eleanor MoAulny.— DomeRtio nIteroationB. — Death of Mr, MoAnley.—
Seaponsibility of parents.— QliOBtg in Stormnnsto^vn Hoiihs. — Its ininatea
remove to Duhliti.— Madnme St. Oeorge. — Mrs. McAnley's curly training,
and its connequenecs. — Ilcr judicious mode of governing children.—
Cittliurine on "giiod nniniierK." — Dciitli of her mother. — Its influence on
Cuthnriiie.— Tiie contrust between the deaths of tlie mother and daughter.—
Cutheriiie'a zeal for preparing ubildran for Conflruiotion.

The owner of Stormanstown Honse was worthy to be the
father of such a woman as Catherine McAaley.* He was a pions
Catholic, kind and indulgent in his family, charitable to the poor,
and a gentleman in the highest sense of the word. Though
Catherine was hardly seven when she had the misfortane to lose
him, his virtues had made an indelible impression on her tender
mind, and the remembrance of him kept alive in her heart dnriug
the many dark years that followed his death, the dying embers of
the faith. Among other pious practices, he used on Sundays and
holidays to collect all the poor in the vicinity of Stormanstown,
and instruct them in their religion. In those days it wonid not be
easy to overrate the utility of this laudable custom. If the instrno-
tion of the poor ts at all timas a great work of mercy, what must
it bo in those real " dark ages," when there were few clergy and
DO institutions to promote it ?

Little Catherine often witnessed his zcalons discharge of this
self-appointed but most mcritoiioub duty. &he was a becutiful,
gentle child, with soft blue eyes and golden bair ; cveu then she

•To-tlio very cml of her life, Ciitliorlne tostiflod tlio dpepcHt vcnoriitlon for
her fiitlii'r's memory. On one ocoimion, her lirotlier-in-luw wUeii lier to
nipderiilztt a liltio the ortliogrupliy of her name— tliUH, MaeauUy. 'How could I
think," she replied, "of ipelliug n.y n«me otherwise than my revered :'i.:her
•pell it I"

LIFE OF CATHERIKK UCAULEY.

^Tn;^

—Little Catherine
Mr, MoAuley.—
jnne. — \t» inmate*
y'» curly training,
riling cliildren.—
— Itn influence on
sr and daughter. —

>rthy to be the
He was a pioos
ible to the poor,
word. Though
isfortune to lose
n on her tender
lier heart during
dying embers of
on Sundays and
f Stormanstown,
I it would not be
If the instruc-
ercy. what must
1 few clergy and

lischarge of this
was a beeutiful,
e\eu then she

epcHt vcnoriitlon for
ii-luw AHkod lier to
iul*tf. 'How could I
J my revered :"4.:.her

evinced the germs of the charity and amiability so characteristic of
her matnrer years. Her disposition was very affectionate, and sin-
gularly t^nselfish. A little before her death she wrote : " One in
my position cannot think of pleasing herself ; my pleasure must
consist in endeavoring to please all." But her whole life was
guided by that oeautiful maxun. Often she wocid follow hei
father to his favorite occupation. With wonderment depicted on
her childish face, she would listen to him expounding to the poor
those beautiful troths which alone can sweeten the bitterness of
poverty. Young as she then was, she never could forget his zeal
and piety, and when she lost him, veneration for his memory grew
with her growth and strengthened with h^r strength. Truly, the
remembrance of their virtues is the most precious inheritance
parents can leave to their children, whose immortal souls will one
day be demanded at their hands. This legacy, if no other, was
the birth-right of Oatherine.

Mrs. McAuley was a lady of great personal attractions, a highly
cultivated mind, and almost angelic sweetness of disposition.
Loving faohionable society, which she was well fitted to adorn, she
tti^^ ed with ardor in the gayeties of Dublin. Like some of the
gifted women of the last century, whose beauty and amiability
made them idols in their respective circles, she does not seem to
haVe been imbued with much -religious sentiment. Her moral
character .ras irreproachable, and her gentleness and kindness
secured her many warm friends. Mr. McAuIey's singular taste for
" vulgar associations" was to her " source of much annoyance ;
and when the blind, the lame, and the destitute, who assembled on
his invitation, withdrew, the amiability which, under other curcum-
stances, seemed part of her nature, gave place to something not
quite BO attractive. " How is this, sir !" she wonld exclaim ;
" must my house become a receptacle for every beggar and cripple
in the conntry ? It is, certainly, very unsuitable for a gentleman
in your position to continue these absurdities. I don't know how
you can employ yourself with these low, ignorant creatures."

The fair miatress of Stormanstown House was very liberal of
these remonstrances ; so much so, that though she saw they had oo
effect, she usually cased her mind by admiuisteriug one, at leoBt

3 ■■

LIFE OP CATHERINE 3ICAULET.

once a week. Bat prond as Mr. McAuIey was of bis nccom'-
plished wife, and freely as he yeilded to her in all things, lawful or
indifferent, yet, when she sought to betray him into a dereliction of
duty or principle, he qnietly but decidedly showed her that he was
master of his own bouse. Nor did he think it at ail " unsuitable"
for a gentleman in any " position" to devote some leisure hours to
the instruction of those whom tyranny of the worst species had con-
signed to the most deplorable ignorance, and whose immortal sonls,
made in the image of the Deity, were ransomed with the precious
blood of an incarnate Qod. Catherine . distinctly remembered
thffle little altercations, which occasionally disturbed the peace of a
family, otherwise liring-in perfect harmony ; and ch'Id as she was,
she could see that her father, though the quieter of the disputants,
had the best of the argument.

In 1194, James McAuley passed to the reward promised to
those •' who instruct many unto justice." Unexpectedly stricken
down in the prime of manhood, he was not unprepared to meet
death's summons. He bad been a faithful steward. His time, his
talents, his wealth, had, as far as was compatible with justice to
his own family, been devoted to the poor. His genuine upright-
ness, his extraordinary good sense, and his unweared charity, had
won for him the respect which virtue excites in friend and foe.
The poor mourned bim as a benefactor whose place in their regard
could not easily be filled ; and well they might, for men like him
are not common.

Under God, the virtues of Catherine were due to the influence
her father's example exercised on her early years. From him she
imbibed that devotion to the poor, that zeal for instructing, that
respect for the Catholic faith which continued with her under
very adverse circumstances. Hence, also, sprang the zeal with
which she cautioned parents to train up their children in the way
in which they should gu, and the grief with which she saw that
the majority of parents neglect this sacred duty. For, if a just
God smote His high-priest. Hell, for negligence in the training of
his children, it cannot be expected that Ho will excuse those who
cxhilit similar neglect under the Christian dispensation. What
does it signify to leave to children immense wealth, if they are

»f his fltconi'
igs, lawful or
dcrfliction of
r that he was
" unsuitable"
sure hours to
lecies had con-
amortal souls,
1 the precious
r remembered
the peace of a
lid as she was,
;hti disputants,

I promised to
ctedly stricken
pared to meet

His time, his
ffith justice to
jnuine upright-
pd charity, had
rricnd and foe.
in their regard

men like him

the Influence
From him she
ttstructing, that
irith her under
the zeal with
rcn in the way
she saw that
For, if a just
the training of
.cuse those who
nsatlon. What
Ith, if thoy are

LIFE OF CA.TBEBINH IfOATTLET.

»7

destitute of the riches necessary to secure their salvation ? Of
what use are raagniflccnt town and country residences, if the inner
dwellings of their hearts be not sanctified by Qod's holy presence ?
In a word, what will it profit them to gain the whole world, if they
lose their immortal souls ? Did parents reflect on their awful
responsibility, they would strive to ornament the minds of their
children without detriment to their souls ; they would be more
anxious to leave them the precious inheritance of a Christian eda-
catioD than the riches of Dives. For wealth, without virtue, is
rather a curse than a blessing ; it only enables its possessor to
plunge more deeply into every vice, and gratify every sinful inclina-
tion. Far from following the example of Mr. McAuIey, some
parents not only give their children bad example at home, but re-
fuse to intmst them to those who would teach them to live on
earth in a manner that will not unfit them for heaven ; and who,
while they disdain not a single art or science which might be useful
or agreeable in after-life, never lose sight of the one thing necessary.
Mr. McAuley's children were too young to realize the extent of
the loss they sustained by his death, but his t ilowed partner felt
it in its full force. Her pecuniary affairs s'' \ . becoming unsettled,
her friends advised her to sell Stormanstuwn House and remove to
Dublin. She resolved to follow this counsel, which, indeed, ac-
corded with her inclination. But, as if to add to her trouble, the
" House" was slow in finding a purchaser. A report that it was
haunted having been circulated, people suddenly remembered that
in "the troubled times" a murder had been committed in the
garden ; the servants, of course, began to hear voices and foot-
steps in " the witching hour of night," and the poor lady, who
was a little superstitiously affected, hurried, with her little ones, to
the capital. Whether these appalling nocturnal disturbances arose
from natural, u?inatural, or 8iip«rnatural causes, we do not pretend
to say ; but nothing of the kind tormented the inmates of the
ancient mansion during the life of its late master. After some
time, however, a tenant presented himself who boldly proclaimed
that he cared not for ghosts or goblins ; and the old homestead
passed from the McAuleys, never to return to their possession.
Some twenty-years later, when Catherine became aa heiress, her

"■it:

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

brother often urged her to repnrchase it, and, no doubt, she would
naturally like to do so, but she invariably replied that she regareded
herself as steward, not as owner, of the wealth she had just in-
herited.

There were two houses in Qneen-street belonginfj to the widow
and her orphans, one of which was repaired and fitted up for their
use. Mrs. McAuley soon found that real estate, in her hands, at
least, was a very precarious source of revenue ; and, through
some cause or other, her income became considerably curtailed
Among her friends was a Mrs. St. George, widow of an officer in
the British army, who was rery amiable, of a literary turn of
mind, and quite remarkable for the grace and elegance of her
manners. So dear did she become to the McAuley family, that
they were guided entirely by her advice. She particilarly at-
tracted the children, and by ignoring Catholicity as a vulgarity,
she soon almost extinguished in their young hearts the feeble rays
of faith which their mother had neglected to improve. She per
Buaded their weak, sickly parent to give them a latitude some-
what premature in these early days, by allowi-ig them to do what
they pleased with reference to religion. The consequence was,
that Catherine, who, through respect for her father's memory, re-
fused to attend Protestant assemblies, "grew up without fixed
religionij principles,'** while James and Mary laid the foundation
of their future Protestantism. Eleanor McAnley's conduct in
this respect was but a consequence of her own early training.
Like too many at the present time, those intrusted with her edu-
cation considered religion a mere superfluity. There is much
excuse for her in the fact, that there were not any Catholic schools
when she was young, and her opportunities even of hearing Macs
were few and far between. Nothing was omitted that could render
her brilliant and accomplished, while she was reared in shameful
ignorance of the dogmas of her faith. Probably her husband
made efforts to remedy this, but we fear he did not find a very
docile pupil in his beautiful wife. Not deterred by the considera-

• We quote the woras of V. R. Dean Q»ffney, who wm CMberioe's oonfeMor
for lome time.

LIFE OF CATHERINE 3CCAULET.

bt, she woald
she regareded
s bad just in-

to the widow
;d np for their
her hands, at
and, through
ably curtailed
of an ofiBcer in
iterary turn of
ilegance of her
ley family, that
particalarly at-
08 a vulgarity,
1 the feeble rays
•ove. She per
latitude some-
lem to do what
jnsequence was,
er's memory, re-
p without fixed
I the foundation
ley's conduct in
\ early traiiiing.
ed with her edu-
There is much
Catholic schools
of hearing Mass
that could render
ared in shameful
bly her husband
1 not find a very
by the considera-

Catherlne's oonfewor

Uon that her own brother had jnst apostatized, she allowed Mrs.
St. George to persuade her to place her son :n a military academy.
Admitted as a Protestant, for otherwise he could not be received,
he profited '^o well by the instructions he got, that be became, as
we shall s'lbsequently see, most bigoted and intolerant. Probably
the college) authorities bestowed extra attention on this brand
snatched from the fires of Popery, and certainly their labor in this
instance was not lost.

Mrs. McAuley, however careless about the religious culture of
her children, was by no means indifferent to their moral training.
In after-life, Catherine often reverted to the judicious method her
mother employed to correct their faults, but she deeply regretted
that it was deficient in so essential an element as instruction in
the religion which she and they were supposed to profess. When
any of them disobeyed her, she would say : " Now, my child, yoa
hi "6 disobeyed me, and if I were the only party offended I should
say nothing. But in displeasing me you have also displeased God,
who commands yon to honor your parents. I must then punish
you, till you acknowledge your fault and ask God's forgiveness."
The young delinquent was then separated from the rest of the
family till the appointed reparation was made. She taught them
to speak the truth on all occasions, to avoid the least dissimulation,
and to treat others as they wished to be treated themselves. In
every thing pertaining to their moral and mental culture, not even
the famous mother of the Gracchi was more strict and exacting.
Like the same noble pagan, her "children were her jewels ;" in
them she found comfort during the weary years that followed her
husband's death. The ease and elegance of manner which rendered
Mary so fascinating, and which, when united to piety, became
Catherine's most potent auxiliary in promoting the salvation of
souls, were, doubtless, the result of this early training. Hence,
too, arose, perhaps, the high value which the Foundress of the
Order of Mercy placed on kind, engaging manners. "A religious,"
she would say, " should be a perfect gentlewoman. Persons con-
secrated to God in an Order which labors for the salvation of souls,
ought to be the most attractive people in the world, that their in*
flueace being boundless in their respective offices, they may be so

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

many magnets to attract all with whom they conrerse to Jesnti
Christ, their Spouse and Saviour."

At every period of her life, Catherine was a scrupulous observer
of those small, sweet courtesies upon which so much happiness
depends. She frequently impressed on the Sisters tho importnacc
of attending to the manners of children, servants, and all under
their care. Apart from their religious instruction, .-lie considered
the formation of their manners to be of first consequence. Indeed,
she never separated it from religion ; for good manners were, in
her eyes, only the graqeful expression of charity ; and any thing
like rudeness was hateful to her, because it was so opposed to the
sweetness of Jesus. Her distinguished countryman, Edmund
Bnrke, well says : " Manners are of more importance than laws.
The law can touch only here and there, now and then. But manners
are what soothe or vex, corrupt or purify, exalt or debase, barba-
rize or refine, by a constant, steady, uniform insensible process, like
that of the air we breathe. According to then: quality they aid
morals, they supply them, or they totally destroy them." If this
be only partially true, the reader will admit the wisdom Catherine
displayed in requiring her religions to pay so much attention to
their own manners, and to the manners of all under their charge.

When Catherine was about elevei) years of age she lost her
accomplished mother, a loss of which she never could speak without
the deepest emotion. Something mysterious and awful overhung
this death-bed, which, as connected with her mother, she shuddered
to recall. It was the remorse of the dying woman for what it was
now too late to remedy. She could not get back her precious son,
whose salvation she had risked for temporal aggrandizement; and her
yonng and lovely Mary had thus early become indifferent to the
faith of her fathers. Now death was approaching, it was evident
that he could not be cheated out of his prey, and iu the dear light
of eternity which was already beginning to duwn on the unfaithful
Christian, all things appeared in their true colors. What were
beauty, and wealth, and talent, and admiration to her then ? In
a few moments she would be before the judgment-seat of God, to
answer to Him for the three precious sonls He had confided to
her care, to givp as accoant of her stewardship ; and if shi pleaded

ine to Jesns

ilouB observer
ich happiness
10 importoiice
lud all under
^lie considered
mce. Indeed,
nners were, in
,nd any thing
pposed to the
nan, Edmund
ce than laws.
But manners
debase, barba-
le process, like
aality they aid
iem." If this
dom Catherine
h attention to
their charge.
e she lost her
I speak mthout
wful overhung
, she shuddered
"or what it was
jr precious son,
sement; and her
iiflTerent to the
, it was evident
1 the clear light
a the unfaithful
•s. What were
her then? In
seat of God, to
lad confided to
a if ebo pleaded

LIFE OF OATHEBINE MC.AULET.

ignorance, it conld hardly be invincible ignorance. No wonder
that the priest, who was stealthily introduced into the dying cham-
ber, found it difficult to reassure the disconsolate mother ; and the
stupor of death having compelled him to hasten in the administra-
tion of the sacred rites, he found that she was gone ere any ar-
rangements could be effected regarding the children still with her.
This was the darkest spot in Catherine's retentive memory. When
asked the full particulars of this terrible scene, she appeared too
distressed to be able to speak ; and when the Sisters perceived it
caused her such bitter emotion, they refrained from makiag any
farther allusion to it.

It was, perhaps, this death-«cene that imprinted on Catherine
an intense fear of death, or rather of God, who can make the hour
of death His hour of retribution, even when He pardons the guilt
of the sins He panishes ; and the result of this filial fear was the
sinless life, which the venerable Archdeacon of Limerick considers
more surprising than all the great works she effecter" for the glory
of God.

What a contrast between the death of the moth*"- u.^d the death
of the daughter I The one looks back on a life of worldliness and
neglect of the first duty of a Catholic mother, and already seems
to realize that "it is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the
living God," uncertain whether He will receive her late, but bitter
repentance : the other, who had spent her life in preparing for
her last passage, is surprised to find its approach so sweet and
gentle, and when asked whether she still feared it, answers, almost
with her last breath : " Oh, if I knew death could be so sweet, I had
never feared it so much."

Catherine was always assiduous in assisting the dying. In re-
citing the prayers for a soul departing, she was greatly consoled
by these words : " For tliQugh she si.med, she retained a true
faith in thee. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ;" and slio was ever
most grateful to God that if her mother neglected to practise the
Catholic religion, she always resisted the sophistries of those who
would make her renounce it. She was never weaiy of impressing
those whom she instructed, with the general rule : " As we live,
BO shall we die." Did our destiny rest solely with God, it would

■■

«■

LIFK OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

Burelj be a happy one : did it rest with our enemy, it would surely
be a miserable one. But it rests partly with ourselves. " He
that made you without your concurrence, will not save you without
your co-operation." The sure road to a happy death is a holy life.
" Live in such a manner that death, however sudden, may not find
you unprovided." Then will God, who is our first beginning,
graciously become our last end.

Mother Mary V. Hartnett, in her memoir of Catherine,* says,
that when quite a child, Catherine received Confirmation in Arran
Quay Church ; but wo do not find this circumstance recorded else-
where. Most Rev. Dr. Troy might, in consequence of the dangers
with which she was surrounded, overlook her youth and want of
instruction, and administer the Sacrament as a preservative ; and
certamly nothing less than a powerful grace could, in the temptations
and trials of after years, preserve in her that love of the Catholic
faith which she never lost. Certain it is, that to the end of her
life she was most solicitous to have children well prepared and
instructed for Confirmation, and she even inserted in her Kule a
claufo to that effect ; perhaps in gratitude for the unmense graces
of which it had been the medium in her own case.

Her intense appreciation of the gift of faith made her prize
the glorious Sacrament whose office it is to rouse and fortify that
faUh in the Christian heart. She would detail its effects on the
ApostUi^. <.,outra8ting the craven fear which, before the descent of

* It it scsuM to any of onr ronden that we enter too much into detail, or
record whatgeems to them of li;Mo importance, they will excuse us when they
remember that there are thouauiuls of readers, and will probably yet be hun-
dreds of thousands, in the Order of Mercy alone, with whom nothing concerning
the Foundress can be considered too trivial for record. But, as we have written
this work not for religious alone, but for persons wUo live in the world, and as
Catherine McAuley ]ia8»ed forty years of her life in the world, and in society,
we have, in order that the work may do more good by having mnoh general
interest, related many things which we would suppress if we wrote for religions
alone. We desire that many who would not read other pious biographies, may
be attracted to read this, for we feel certain that no one can bo brought into
ooniniuuion with the sweet and gentle being we have so imperfectly portrayed,
without becoming bettor and holier, for Mother McAulcy remains after death

what shb "■ o i«i lifd— an apostle and an evangelist ; " an apostle bringing soala h>

Coi'iat— an 9vangelist ^Ainting Christ to men."

bM*

it woold Barely
reelves. " He
ve you without
b is a holy life.
I, may not find
irst beginning,

itherine,* says,
ation in Arran

recorded else-
of the dangers
th and want of
servatire ; and
the temptations
»f the Catholic
the end of her
1 prepared and

in her Bale a
immense graces

made her prize

and fortify that

I effeots on the

the descent of

ich into detail, or
ease us whon they
ibably yet be hun-
lothiiig concerning
as we have written
the world, and as
Id, and in society,
Ting ninoh general
wrote for religions
H biographies, may
[1 be brought into
)erlectly portrayed,
imnins after death
le bringing soak tt

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

the Holy Ghost, made them deny their Lord or fly fh)m Him, with
the glorious courage with which, after that event, they preached
Christ -crucified, and rejoiced in being found worthy to suffer for
His nam( . She would expatiate on the long and fervent prepara-
tion of tl e Aposties, and even the Immaculate Mother of God,
made for the reception of the Divine Spirit, impressing on the
minds of her bearers, that as Confirmation can be received sacra-
mentally only once, they should not only prepare by a good con-
fession, but also try in some manner to imitate the solitude and
prayer of the first receivers of the Holy Spurit ; nor would she fail
to suggest the dreadful consequences of an unworthy participation
of this great Sacrament, — putting the terrible alternative before
the little ones in language not unlike that used in the simple strain
of a "Sister Poet:"

"Bat would it not be over-aad.

If, by some hidden sin,
I missed the sevenfold tide of grao*

The Holy Qho«t will bring !
And if the sign, the awful sign,

Dpon my soul should be
A mark to bring God's judgment down

With surer stroke on me 1"

wm^m^mm

CHAPTER IV.

Surgeon Conwny.— Catherine nnd Mnry rcmovad from all r.itliollo ii>fliienee.—
The two Cnthedrnls of Dublin.— Ainiiihility of Ciithcriiio. — ^Slie cs^.ll^ to write
Latin exercisoii.— The pedagogue.— Cutlierine'n religious difflcuhicH.— Hei
esteem for hor Protestant friends.— Her Uicological and lilstorical studios,
— Surgeon Conway's financial reverse. — Catlierine's cheerfulness undei
affliction.— Slie is adopted by the wealthy owner of Coolock Uouso. — Dean
Lub6. — Very Rev. Dr. Betagb.

AFTER Mrs. McAuley's death, her children, now orphans indeed,
were placed under the care of their nearest friend, Surgeon
Conway,'" a relative of their mother's. He had them removed to
his own house, and undertook the responsibility of their education
In this gentleman they found a kind father ; he treated them as
his own children, and Catherine at least could never forget his con-
siderate kindness. Had he not thus given her a home, his own
child and grandchildren had perhaps wanted one, as we shall see
in the sequel, so true is it that even in this world charity seldom
loses its reward.

Unfortunately, pecuniary embarrassments soon obliged this gen-
tleman to relinquish the responsibility, and Mr. Armstrong, a con-
nection of Mrs. McAuley's, took compassion on the poor little ones,
and brought them to his own house. Their projiorty was sold, and
the proceeds vested for their use, in the Apothecaries' Hall, Mary-
street, Dublin, with which Mr. Armstrong wns connected. This
gentleman was a rigid Protestant. It would be considered a
vulgarity and a species of disloyalty to mention Cittholiciiy in his
fashionable and well-regulated mansion. Had not Catlicrine been
early familiarized with the persecuted creed of her ancestors, she
might have reached maturity without becoming nware tliat it was
still professed by the great mnjority of her coimtry people, or even
that it exi'jtcd in her nalivd land, so skilfully did her guardian keep
his wards aloof from every thing calculated to remind tliem of the

•Soe "Momoir of Mother MoAulcy," by Sister Miiry V. Hartnoll. John F.
Fowler, Dublin ; 18&1. AIjo, " Siitara of Merey," in " Sketches of IrUb Nud-
Bwiti," by Vtry Rtr. D«an Murpby. Jamei Duffy, Dublla } 1860.

LIFE OF OATHERIKE MCAULEY.

olic ii>fltience.—
le cr'«i\ to write
lifflciiltiest.— Ilei
istoriciil Htudios,
erf'iiliiCB8 uniloi
k Uouso. — Dean

rphar.s indeed,
riend, Surgeon
m removed to
heir education
cated them as
forget his con-
home, his own
as we shall see
charity seldom

iliged this gen-
nstrong, a con-
loor little ones,
y was sold, and
's' Hall, Mavy-
nnected. This
) considered a
tholiiMiy in his
Datlicrine been

ancestors, she
ire tlmt it was
Dcople, or even

guardian keep
lid them of tlio

{itrtnoll. Jolin F.
uhca ur IrUh Nua-
S63.

faith of their parents. She was not acqnainted with a single Cath-
olic, and she might have walked through the city without recog-
nizing a Catholic church. The sweet tones of the Mass or Vesper
bell never fell on her ears ; the glorious Cathedral, with " its silent
finger pointing np to heaven," never gladdened her eyes. In those
days bells and steeples were allowed only in connection with the
" Church by law .established." The Catholic chapels were in the
most obscure parts ; nor dare they venture any ornament, save the
modest cross, the beacon of hope to fallen man. Of the two
Cathedrals* of Dublin, neither was in the possession of the reli-
gion that raised it. Near St. Patrick's she might have seen the
well in which the great apostle baptized a native prince, and the
cave in which he said Mass ; but on entering that ancient fane, she
would at once perceive that the unspotted Sacrifice was no longer.'
offered there, thoqgh the grim-looking Irish Saints, that refuse to
come out of their niches, are not the only tokens the old Cathedral
bears of the religion which faithful generations practised within its
walls for ten or eleven centuries.*

Although Catherine could not be induced by threats or promises
to join in Protestant worship, she soon endeared herself to every
member of the surgeon's family. Her unvarying kindness and
gentleness, her efforts to promote the happiness of others, and her
exquisite considerateness, could not but win affection and esteem.
She was, indeed, a creature " made to be loved." Mary, who, like
her mother, was of a most amiable disposition, was fond of dress
and amusement, but Catherine never cared for these things. The

* Dnhlin is aingiilar in posaostinf; two Cuthodrali. St, Patrick's wns used in
time of pence, mid Cliriat Cliurcli, without tlio wulls, in time of war. 'Die
latter hnii obtained a melancholy celebrity. From its pulpit the doctrines of
the Reformation were first promulgntod in Ireland, the preacher being George
Brown, nn English npostnte friar. Hero, too, he outraged popular feeling by
breaking that time-honorcd crozior with which tradition assorted tlmt bt.
Piitriok diuvu ;'.:-> optilcs out of Ireland, a relio known by the beautiful name
of "The Stuflf of Jos is" (Baoulnm Christl).

In St. Puti'ioli's linn>nguod tliat wittieht and most eooentrio of Irishmen, Dean
Swift. Ill the densely pupulutud districts nonr tlie Cathudral, ho is slill culled,
by way of eminence, " Tlie Donn ;" and the doscendunts of the poor people,
whose liberties ho did not a Utile to restore, delight in maintaining that b«
died » Catholic. Cutliorine'a father might have seen and known him.

^^ -A.. ■~-^. I | «»i<M i.'J' | J!W » J| j» » ( <

LIFE OF CATHBEINK MOAULBY.

greatest trouble of her chfldhood arose from the pain she once nn-
consciously infflicted on her sister, by inadvertently mentioning to
her mother some fault of pride that haughty little lady had com-
mitted. Mrs. McAuley, having investigated the matter, judg*.^
this fault so serious that, in punishment of it, she locked Mary in
a dark room, in which, by some ingenious contrivance, flamen were
represented, to give the fair prisoner some idea of the flames to
which pride may conduct handsome people who will not be good.
Poor Catherine was inconsolable. She followed the poor child
through the scene of terror and disgrace, hovering round her like
a guardian spirit, and yet ashamed, because of what she deemed
her own unkindness, to look her sister in the face.

James, before he improved into the precise gentleman he after-
wards became, was a wild, reckless youth. Besides his English and
mathematical studies, he began Latin very young, as is customary
in Ireland. But having a propensity for play in a higher degree
than most other boys, his Horace generally remained unmolested
in his satchel, his translation wa» forgotten, and his exercise un-
written. The pedagogues of the olden times, however, were not
men to be trifled with. They were not accustomed to spoil the
child by sparing the rod ; hence poor James often fell in for very
impolite glances of his master's awful eye, and what he deemed
still more disagreeable, an unmannerly application of the same
gentleman's ferule. Under such unquestionably distressing circum-
stances he would apply to his sweet sister for consolation, which
he invariably received, with a friendly promise of saving him from
similar indignities in future by interfupting his play when it was
time to study. But the thoughtless boy was always interrupted
in vain ; before evening came, the wounds of the morning, M -ot
entirely healed, were entirely forgotten, and he preferred risking
the dreadful consequences he knew to be inevitable, to subtracting
ten minutes from his favorite diversions. Catherine sometimes
wept in the evening at the thought of the cnstigation to be in-
flicted on her graceless brother in the morning ; and though he
generally arrived home with the marks of martyrdom ubout him,
classics and the rod had no place in his mind till .e dreadful
morning came agoin. She wouid coax and entreat, she even

1 she once an-
mentioning to
ady had com-
latter, jndg'^d
eked Mary ia
le, flamen ^^ero
the flames to
not bo good,
he poor child
round her like
it she deemed

leman he after-
iiis English and
B is customary
i higher degree
led unmolested
lis exercise nn-
rever, were not
ed to spoil the
fell in for very
hat ho deemed
of the same
tressing circum-
isolation, which
aving him from
ay when it was
ays interrupted
morning, Vi i)t
referred risking

to subtracting
irino soinetimos
Ration to be in*

and though ho
lorn ubout him,
till .e dreadful
trcut, she eren

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE MCAULET.

offered to bear him company at the dull work, and sometimes
wrote the exercises herself, to gire him an example, a step which
met with his unqualified approbation. But even this was not a
specific. Though naturally acute and talented, she could not write
Latin exercises by mere inspiration, and the Tcrbs and declensions
of that beautiful language were not only Latin but Greek to her,
as James learned to his cost. For, one day having gathered ap
the result of her' labors, he strode to school with a firm and inde*
pendent step, and on being asked for his exercises showed up hers.
The teacher, who soon saw that they were not his pupil's writing,
dissembled this, and punished him for her mistakes as if they had
been his own.

From childhood Catherine had not received any religions in-
struction, but the veneration in which she held her father excited
her to love the faith he gloried in professing. She clung to the
very name of Catholic with a strange tenacity, thongb, circum-
stanced as she was, it may be regarded as little short of miraculous
that any Catholic feeling remained in her. Serious and acute
beyond her years, despising the frivolities of the world, and caring
little even for its harmless amusements, the state of her soul was
often a subject of deep uneasiness to her. She was not a Protest-
ant, nor could she with propriety be called a Catholic. She care-
fully practised the moral counsels of her beloved mother, but she felt
that this was not enough. Qood works must be enlivened by faith
that workcth by charity. As she advanced in age she grew daily
more alive to the insecurity of her spiritual position. When she
heard the Catholic faith attacked she was obliged to be silcut,
for she could not give reasons for the hope that lingered in her.
Her sister and brother made no difficulty of adopting their guardi-
an's Ci'eed, while she was out of harmony with all her friends.
Many a time such questions- as the following presented themselves
to her mind : " What, if after all, the surgeon's religion is the
true one ? Am I, who scarcely know any thing of religion, a better
judge of right and wrong than he ? Why du I not embrace bis
creed, and put an end to my own unhappinoss ? There would then
be no disagreement between my friends and myself, while now I
grieve them and torment myself."

£'

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

Her friends, from whom her aneasiness coald not be concealed,
Bonght adroitly to work upon her feelings, and indnce her to attend
some Protestant place of worship, but this she firmly declared she
would never do till she was couTiDced of the trath of the Protestant
religion.

One thing which woald naturally hare much influence in attach-
ing her to the Protestant persuasion was, the high moral virtue she
saw practised by her Protestant friends. There was not one of
them whom she did not esteem. She had found them generous,
warm-hearted, and sympathizing, and she ever approri^ted them
as persons of sterling worth, whose bigotry arose liom misander-
Btanding and injudicious reading, rather than from any desire to
insult or injure those whom they regarded as scarcely better than
pagans. Not one of them seemed capable of an unkind act ; and
if there were Protestants of an opposite character, such were not
among the associates of Catherine McAuiey. As St. Gregory,
struck with the beauty and goodness expressed in the faur faces of
the Saxon youths he saw exposed in the Roman slave-market, ex-
claimed, " They would not be Angles but Angels, if they knew
the true God ;" so Catherine, in a similar spirit, often said that
nothing but tiie true faith seemed wanting to tlie perfection of
her early friends. However, it is hot right to add, that she was
quite ingenious in observing and magnifying the good qualities of
all with whom she came in contact ; this was, perhaps, the most
beautiful point of her very beautiful character.

Prevented from consulting any Catholic priest, for on this point
her guardian was inflexible, she resolved to strive by prayer and
study to And out the right way. Her powerful mind told her that
every sect could not indeed bo the Gliurch of Christ, which her
Bible described as one. Naturally studious, she carefully perused
tlie works of eminent Protestant divines, with which her present
home was well stocked. If she asked, with the sable eunuch of
Queen Candace, " How can I understand what I read unless some
one show me ?" her zealous guardian, who was no mean proficient
in these high studies, was instantly at her side to volunteer his
explanations ; and she soemud, as she afterwards said, to be on the
road to Protestantism. But conviction would not come, for hers

LIFE OF OATHEBINE HCA1TLET.

be concealed,

her to attend

J declared she

the Protestant

!nce in attach-
oral virtoe she
as not one of
hem generous,
jreriated them
lom misunder-
1 any desire to
ily better than
akind act ; and
each were not
.8 St. Gregory,
;he fair faces of
ave-market, ex-
, if they knew
jften said that
|o perfection of
Id, that she was
9od qualities of

haps.

the most

'or on this point
3 by prayer and
lid told her that
irist, which her
sarefuUy perused
ich her present
sable eunuch of
read nnless some
mean proficient
to volunteer hifl
lid, to be on the
come, for hers

was not a mind to be nltimately duped by the specions logic of
error. The Apostles had a dirine mission : which of the so-called
reformers could lay claim to the same ? To be sure, they did not
pretend to establish, they merely reformed ; bat what reforma-
tion could that Ghnrch require with which Christ promised to re-
main till the consummation of the world ? Individuals may err in
any position, for men arc not angels, but it seemed to her like
blasphemy to assert that the gates of hell could prevail against
the whole Chnrch in spite of the solemn promises of Jesus Christ.
She was told that many things in the doctrines of the Catholic
Church were hard to be believed ; bat is it not precisely herein that
the merit of faith consists 7 If every article were so palpable as to
admit of mathematical demonstration, there conld be no liberty
of rejection, and consequently no merit for reception. We do not
call it tiaith to believe that the sun gives light and heat, for this it
would be madness to deny. Whatever comes to her on the autho-
rity of Christ, speaking through His Church, she is ready to believe,
no matter how repugnant it may appear to natural reason. Allud-
ing to her struggles at this period, her learned and pious friend,
Dean Gaffney,* writes : " The more she read, for she had a strong
and vigorous understanding, the more she thought and studied,
the stronger did her doubts become. The earthly and interested
motives in which Protestantism had its origin ; the violence, con-
tradictions, and mutual dissensions of its aathors ; the want of
those salutary ordinances which her own heart told her were
necessary for her spiritual improvement, demonstrated most con-
vincingly that the spirit which produced the so-called Reformation,
and which animated the first reformers, could not have been the
Spirit of God. Whatever inclination she had to bpcomn a Pro-
testant utterly died away within her during the progress of in-
quiry."

Catherine's knowledge of iiistory, a stady*in which she delighted,
was a powerful auxiliary in keeping her in the fold from which she
was in such danger of wandering. Certainly, if a tree is to be
judged by its fraits, the Reformation had produced any thing bat

• 8k«toh of th« Ltft of Oktherine MoAuley. Dublia Saviaw, 1647.

LIFE OF CATHERHTBi MCAULET.

desirable fruits in the British empire. In indiridnals it was isome-
time eren less fortunate. Take, as an instance, the very man who
bad most to do with its introduction. Look at Henry VIII. as a
Catholic. Brave, polite, handsome, and accomplished, the friend
of More, fisher, and Erasmns, renowned through Europe for his
learning, he wins from the highest earthly tribunal a title,* of which
the deepest theologian might be proud. If three queens once knelt
at his feet to implore clemency for the unfortunate apprentices,
they did not at least rise without obtaining what they sought. If
he had strong passions (and who can deny that ?), he could be
controlled by some means, or combination of means, natural or
Bdpematural. But look at him after his secession from Rome, and
what human being can read his history without feeling that hu-
manity and Christianity are equally disgraced in thb " Royal Blue-
beard ?" Rude, hard-hearted, and unpitying — obstinate, despotic,
and revengeful — he spurns the noblest woman of her age, the daugh-
ter of Isabella the Catholic, when, for sake of her unhappy child,
she casts herself at the tyrant's feet to ask only justice. Well did
he know that it was no vulgar ambitiou that spurred on Katharine
of Aragon to this extraordinary humiliation. Well did he know,
without hearing it from her hallowed lips, that she " would rather
be a poor beggar, with a good conscience, than queen of the
universe and at enmity with God." But his heart was callous and
his conscience seared ; the pure devotion of this exalted being was
lost upon him. The pleading blue eye of the frail young Catherine
Howard, and the thin gray locks of the rigidly virtuous mother
of Cardinal Pole, the butchered Margaret of Salisbury, were equally
powerless to move his stony heart to pity. As a Catholic, be com-
pares favorably enough with many a prince before and after his
time, but as severed and excommunicated from the Catholic Church,
he displays himself a monster, a compound of beast and demon,
from whom all things Christian and human have well-nigh departed,
whose very presence dellled our planet, and whose memory makes
ns shudder. The study of his history aione, painful as it must
ever be, even to fallen nature, has brought many a one to the true

• "Doftndtr of the Faith."

- — -^- -in

TJFE OF CATHEBIKE MOAULXT.

it was some"
ery man who
Y VIII. as a
d, the friend
:arope for his
tie,* of which
ens once knelt
B apprentices,
ij sought. If
, he could be
ns, natural or
om Kome, and
eeling that hu-
" Royal Blue-
inate, despotic,
age, the dangh-
unhappy child,
;ice. Well did
d on Katharine
il did he know,
" wonld rather
I queen of the
was callous and
aUed being wos
roung Catherine
rirtuous mother
iry, were equally
atholic, he cora-
e and after his
Catholic Church,
ast and demon,
ll-nigh departed,
I memory makes
nful as it must
one to the true

Church. Even in the first fervor of the Reformation, its kings, as
Henry YIII.; its divines, as Cranmer ; its martyrs, as those of
Mr. Fox, who were so often found in the body after martyrdom,
and were so ready to purchase their lives by recantation ; its
virgins, as Queen Elizabeth ; its matrons, as Anna Boleyn and
Jane Seymour, bear but a poor comparison with Constantine and
Tbeodosius, with, Polycarp and Chrysostom, with Agnes and
Felicitas and Monica, and so many thousands of the ancient Chris-
tians.

But Catherine's historical and theological studies were disagree*
ably interrupted. Her guardian's afifairs became so much em-
barrassed that he was soon on the brink of ruin. His family were
actually starving. After fasting a whole day, she considered a
little bread in the evening a luxury, and the bare boards became
her nightly couch. Her cheerfulness never forsook her, and in
after-life she used often say that she took her rest as contentedly
on the hard floor as when lying on down and surrounded with
luxuries. Hence she concluded that people are much better able
to bear hardships in Qod's service than they generally imagine,
and that happiness does not consist in temporal comforts, since
many are very happy in the midst of poverty. Trials which in
(^rospect seem unendurable, are not so very dreadful when we view
them closely, for onr good God always sends the grace with the
cross. She would sometimes allude to the sorrows of her early
years, drawing motives of instruction and gratitude to God from
every occurrence, and teaching her children to make useful and
cheering reflections on the disasirous events of this passing life.
She had such a talent, or rather a gprace, for consoling the afflicted,
and encouraging them to bear up manfully under their sorrows,
that she was often styled an angel of consolation. Indeed, nothing
ever seemed to come amiss to her ; with the eyes of her soul she
saw God and His beautiftil angels arranging and directing every
thing. Her greatest trial arose from the fact that during her
whole life, " the tomb," as she expressed it, " seemed never to be
closed in her regard ;" but even in this case she did not mourn as
the;' do who have no hope, and she felt if she saw not, that—

LIFE OF CATHERINB MCAULBT.

" There are angels to watch by the graves we love ,
And when we are kneeling near them,
They whiHpor our hearts of the God above,
Who knows His own time to cheer them t"

Catherine bod grown up so rapidly, and had sach a formed
character, that she war* taken to be ranch older than she really
was.* She was hardly sixteen when she had several opportunities
of repairing her shattered fortunes by forming an eligible matri-
monial alliance, bnt nothing coald induce her to accept an offer of
that nature.

After some time, her guardian,s prospects improved, but he
never entirely regained bis former position. Catherine was a Cath-
olic from conviction, but it was some time before she found herself
a child of that mighty mother, the Catholic and Apostolic Church,
for whose propagation she was destined to effect such great things.
She contrived to become acquainted with the Very Rev. Dean Lubd,
of St. James', who consoled and encouraged her. Very Rev. Dr.
Betagh, whose learning and piety then reflected lustre on the Irish
Church, also fortified and instructed her. But God was pleased to
defer her open profession of the faith till it involved greater
sacrifice. She had now little to risk, but we shall soon find her
practising her religion when she felt that such a course would make
her homeless and friendless, and quench the first gleam of good
fortune which had gladdened her heart for years.

About the period of her interior conflict, a lady and gentleman,
distantly connected with her mother, returned to Ireland after a
long residence in India. They purchased Coolock House and
demesne, near the village of Coolock, a few miles north of Dublin,
wherq they lived, according to their taste, rather returedly. Visit-
ing the physician in whose family Catherine resided, they were so
struck with her gentle, attractive appearance that they desired a
more intimate acquaintance; and findmg that she was endowed with

* In mature life she was taken to be much yonnger than she was. This was
owing to the extreme fairness of her oomplozion. Her godchild speaks of her
aa being " very young" when ahe became an heiress, thoagh she was then past
thir^.

r>^-

sncli a formed
than she really
al opportnnitiea
I eligible matri-
cept an offer of

nproved, but he
rine was a Gath-
she found herself
postolic Church,
ach great things.
Elev. Dean Lub6,
Very Rev. Dr.
istre on the Irish
)d was pleased to
involved greater
all soon find her
turse would make
t gleam of good

y and gentleman,
) Ireland after a
lock House and
north of Dublin,
retiredly. Visit-
led, they were so
dat they desired a
was endowed with

iBhowM. This was
idohild epeakB of her
gh she WM then p»»t

LIFE OP CATHKBINK MOAULBY.

remarkable good sense and cheerfulness, they became so warmly
attached to her that they could not bear to bo deprived of her so-
ciety for a day. Finally, they offered to adopt her. The advan-
tages of such, a proposal were too evident to admit of its rejection
and towards the end of 1803, she was transferred to her new and
beautiful home, where she soon became the idolized child of her
adopted parents.. Her affectionate heart was almost torn by this
all but total separation from the kind friends of her youth but in
tune her loneliness wore off, and she was not only contented but
happy in Coolock House.

f J ^'

CHAPTER V.

Catherine inatrnoted by Very Hot. Dr. Murray.— Mr. Callahan.— Hi» portraits-
Mrs. Callahan.— Her generosity.— Uofortonate allianMS.— Ifflportance of train*
ing women of every rank for their domeitio duliei. — Importanos of prayer and
deliberation before choosing a state in life.

NO sooner was Catherine quietly domiciled with her new friends
than her interior anxiety, which had been partially suspended
by the norelty and distraction of her position, became more violeut
than ever. The Catholic works loaned her by her clerical friends
she read, slowly and prayerfully, but circumstanced as she was, sle
scarcely knew how to proceed. Temptations to shake her resolu-
tion were not wanting, and she suffered a mental conflict, grievoas
beyond description, but, by the grace of Qod, she determined to
follow the dictates of her conscience at every risk. Framing
some excuse for going to town alone, she left her carriage at the
door of a milliner's shop in Sackville-street, where she had made a
few purchases, and hurried to a Catholic chapel in the vicinity.
Trembling, and almost breathless, she begged a few moments' intei^
view with a priest, and Rev. Dr. Murray, afterwards archbishop,
promptly appeared. He received her most cordially, removed her
remaining difficulties, and instructed her for confession, inviting her
to repeat her visit whenever she could. She punctually followed
his advice, but it was not until after she had received the bread of
the strong i the Holy Communion, that she felt courage to make
her parents aware that she was determined to live and die in the
Holy Catholic Church.

Mr. Callahati was a man of erudition and energy, whose pursuits
were chiefly of asci'utific nature, and he continued in old age to
study his favorite branches with all the ardor of youth. In reli-
gious matters he does not appear to have taken much interest, rarely
attending any place of worship ; but, according to Catherine's

rjv

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCaULET.

a,-HU portr*tt^
porUnce of tr»in-
Doe of pr»yer and

her new friends
tially suspended
.me more yioleat
• clerical friends
i as she was, she
hake her resola-
:onflict, grieTcaa
e dctenmned to
risk. Framing
r carriage at the
I she had made a
in the vicinity.
n moments' inter-
'ards archbishop,
y, removed her
ision, inviting her
nctaally followed
lived the bread of
courage to make
e and die in the

ry, whose pursuits
ed in old age to
youth. In reli-
ich interest, rarely
ig to Catherine's

account, his character was without a blemish. Though his dis-
positioa was remarkably cheerful, hi.s conversation was never light
or frivolous. In appearance he was very prepossessing ; his head
Gnido would gladly have painted ; in his countenance gravity,
iutc'lligence, benevolence, and suavity were happily l.lcnded. A
fine portrait of this noblr gentleman used to hang in one of the
parlors of Baggot-etreet Uouse, v-liich strack the late archbishop
BO much that he desired Miss McAnley to keep it there- a rare
privilege for the likeness of a secular in a convent. His Grace was
quite an adept in judging character by the countenance — seldom an
infallible index — but in this instance he was not mistaken. One
could scarcely look at this picture without admiring the venerable
face, which seems to smile on the canvass. The deference and
attention Mr. Callahan invariably evinced towards his umiable
consort, proved tJiat time, if it robbed her of the charms that first
attracted him, had but increased his affectionate regarii

Mrs. Callahan was very gentle and amiable. Her health, im-
paired bv a long residence in India, was such as to make her a
valetudinarian and an invalid by turns. She bore her little troubles
with tolerable patience, was kind and considerate to all around her,
and regarded her husband with mingled feelings of admiration and
respect. Bom among the Friends, or Quakers, she rarely attended
their meetings, contenting herself with mere moral goodness, in
which she certainly excelled. In fact, but one thing seemed want-
ing to the perfection of this worthy pair ; alas, that it should be
so essential a thing ; for, "without fait! it is impossible to please
God." Catherine grieved to see them, like the Centurion of the
Acts, practising virtue without the supernatural motives which
make it glorious to God and meritorions to man. It was her
constant prayer that, like the same Centurion, then* alms and
virtues might, through the petitions of tht oor, one day merit for
them t he inestimable blessings to which the Catholic Church admits
her cliiidren. The following incident will suffice to show that Mrs.
Callahan was no common-place person.

A young man, to whom Mr. Callahan li u (Own much kindness,
proved his gratitude by trying to sow diflsenaions in the family.
Baffled in this benevolent project, he resolved to wreak his vea*

LIFE OF CATHEEINE MC'AULET.

geance on Mrs. Callahan. He sent her anotiymoM letters, full of
cutting allusions to her early doinpstic afflictions, and highly out-
rageous to her feelings. Some time elapsed before Catherine could
soothe the poor lady, so bitterly did she rjLCut these insults. A
few weeks after, the mother of this gontlcmau waited on Mrs.
Callahan to ask a favor for her son. When she retired, the ancient
mistress of Coolock wept and sobbed bitterly, <"•.«• excessive sensi
tiveness of disposition had been her cross through lit',-. At length
she called Catherine, and said :

" Mrs. M called to inform me that her ?on has been offered

a commission, provided he can pay at once three hundred pounds.*
Such an opportunity may not occur again, and she desires that I
should prevail on Mr. Callahan to give the money."
' " Well," said Catherine, gently, •' yon will surely do so T
" What !" exclaimed the agitated lady, " can I be expected to
exert my influence in favor of one who has maliciously endeavored
to deprive me of my husband's esteem ?"

Then taking the letters fro=? her desk, she exclaimed :
" Were I to read these, no solicitation could prevail on me to
serve him. He has wounded my feelings without any provocation,
but I will not imitate his baseness."

Throwing the slanderous papers in the fire, and stifling the re-
membrance of the bitter tears they cost her, she proceeded to
the library, and pleaded successfully with Mr. Callahan for the.
money.

Confounded by such generosity, the young ensign could not bring
himself to enter her presence, but commissioned his mother, who
knew nothing of the anonymous letters, to thank his benefactress
for him. Mrs. Callahan, however, had so completely forgiven him,
that the past seemed utterly obliterated from her memory ; yet he
had offended her in a manner that few women forgive, and fewer
still forget. Catherine, too, acted nobly in this matter, for the
fe-eKtlsman being distantly related to Mr. Callahan, she was not
ignoran. (hat jealousy oi" her position in the family had been one of
his motives for insulting the lady of Coolock, though that lady,

• A ooramisBion in the British army costs about five hundred poandi.

-•«•••«*••<

LIFE OF CATHEBHO: MCAULET.

letters, full of
nd highly out-
Jatherine could
Bse insults. A
raited on Mrs.
•ed, the ancient
excessive sensi
ife. At length

bas been offered
indred pounds.*
le desires that I

y do so 1"
be expected to
•usly endeavored

limed :

(revail on me to

any provocation,

id stifling the re-
le proceeded to
Callahan for the.

n could not bring
his mother, who

his benefactress
;ely forgiven him,

memory ; yet he
ji^ive, and fewer

matter, for the
an, she was not
y had been one of

longh that lady,

with characteristic delicacy, concealed this part of the affair from
her adopted child.

Besides Catherine, another young lady, a connection of Mr. Cal-
lahan's, usually resided at Coolock, who in disposition and taste
presented a striking contrast to her. Her gay, thoughtless life
annoyed Mr. Callahan very much, and he paid the enormoos ac-
counts of her milliners and dressmakers with a very bad grace ;
but Mrs. Callahan always excused her on the plea of youth and
inexperience. She finally contracted an engagement with a young
gentleman to whom her guardian had many objections, though he
was unable, " handsomely," to forbid his visits. On the wedding-
day, as the carriage, which bad for its precious freight tHe newly-
wedded pair, wound slowly down the avenue, Mr. Callahan looked
sadly on the bride, who had given him so much uneasiness. " Poor
thing, poor thing !" he sighed, " her troubles are all before her ;
her present bliss will not last long." However, he gave her a
bridal gift of two thousand pounds, while Mrs. Callahan, who had
supplied the trousseau, presented her with a handsomely furnished
house. Before .the tour was over, Mr. P. gratified his bride by
assuring her that he would not have thought of her except as Mr.
Callahan's heiress ; and that he would greatly prefer a sensible
person like Miss McAuley, " whom," said he, " I certainly should
have espoused had I not considered yon more likely to become an
heiress." Supremely precious as this young gentleman esteemed
himself, it is quite certain that Catherine would, or actually did,
answer such a magnanimous proposal by a negative.

Ere long it was discovered that Mr. P. was a confirmed gam-
bler. Being manager of a bank, in the conrse of a few years he
broke trust, and finally absconded with a considerable sum. The.
last time his wife saw him was in a convict-siiip ; nor could she
hope to see him again, for he was transported for life. Poor
Mary would gladly retrace her steps were it possible, but she had
to suffer the consequences of her early wilfulness. There was one
friend who sympathized with her, relieved her wants, and assisted
her to rear her fatherless children. That friend was Catherine
McAuley.

andred pound*.

LIFE OF (JATHBBINE MOAULBT.

This wnB neither the first nor the last nnhappj alliance
Catherine saw contracted. Obliged by iier position to mingle a
good deal in society, and being niiturully of a disposition that in-
vited confidence, slie, while yet young, saw the worlu as it is rather
than as the glowing imagination of yonth too fi-eqaenti/ presents
it. As matrimony is, according to St. Francis de Sales, a profes-
sion, prior to wliich there is no novitiate, and as it is of its own
nature an irrevocable contract, she often expressed a wish that
such as were about to enter that holy state would suffer themselves
to be guided less by passion than by Christian prudence. As it is
the ordinary vocation of women, and as the good of society in gen-
eral, an^ the peace and happiness of every family in particular,
depend more on the multiplication of good mothers, women capa-
ble of realizing the inportance of fuitilliiig their duties well, .ad
mindful that they exert an influence which must extend to genera-
tions yet unborn — Catherine required that her Religious should
devote themselves in a special manner to the training of women
and girls, particularly the poor, whom she desired should be brought
op honest, industrious, trustworthy women, not afraid of labor,
capable of bearing privation, and, for sake of their fathers, broth-
ers, or husbands, fully alive to the necessity of making their poor
homes as happy as possible. Their education she would have less
bri'liant than solid — nor would she, however intensely devoted to
the poor, ever suffer them to be brought up in such over-refinement
as might unfit them for encountering the stern realities of life,
which she wished them to expect, and brace themselves to meet, in
a Christian spirit, rather than endeavor to avoid. With regard
to the rich, though si: e desired they should be taught every accom-
plishment capable cf adding a single charm io their homes, or
. of whiling away in an innocent, if not useful, manner, the too-abun-
tlant leisure of high life, she often regretted that many ladies who
appear to great advantage in the ball-room are but poorly fitted
for their position as mistresses of families, especially if pecuniary
reverses or domestio calamities compel them to retreat from the
fashionable world upon which they have unhappily fixed their af-
fections. She used to say that of all the ladies she had known

■•»vi

LIFE OF CATHEBINE XCAULET.

appy alliance
I to mingle a
«tlou that in-
1 as it is rather
lently presents
Sales, a profes-
t is of its own
] a wish that
iffer themselves
encc. As it is
[■ society in gen-
r in particular,
!, women capa-
iutics wellt .ad
;tend to geuera-
leligious should
uiiig of women
ould be brought
afraid of labor,
r fathers, bioth-
aking their poor
would have less
isely devoted to
I over-refinement
realities of life,
lelvcs to meet, in
With regard
rlit every accom-
their "aomsa, or
er, the too-abun-
many ladies who
but poorly fitted
illy if pecuniary
retreat from the
y fixed their af-
Bhe had known

in yonth, some of whom bad made brilliant alliances, but few en-
joyed domestic peace and happiness, or rather that they were all
happy only iu proportion as they grgppled successfully with the
difficulties that beset them, and received heavy offlictions in a
Christian spirit. And she believed that much uiihappiness might
be averted by training girls for home rather than for the parks and
ball-rooms, and impressing on their minds that the duties they may
have to discharge as mistresses of families are not invariably easy
and agreeable to nature.

" We have leamed— indireetly, indoed — tbitt, in the flrst edition of this work,
tber<> <'<u tome erroncioua statement regarding the family of the gentlaman at
whole oouae Catherine reiided for a very short lime after her mother's' death, so
short, indeed, that Very Rev. Dean Murphy* does not notice it at all, but says
(hat the MoAuley children were directly taken charge of by Mr. Armstrong.

We have suppressed the statements pointed out as incorrect, but cannot' re atify
them, because we l^are received no commmunieation from the gontlemaa'j d«>
■cendants."

* Sketches of Irish Nunneries, p. 116.

i>< a!i 'H^ jB» 'wBiw M<»J- i iif II Pmt m m

CHAPTER VI.

Dr. James McAuloy.-Dr. William MaoauIey.-T«blo-tnlk.-Cntherine's con-
bidcrateness for convcrUi.-Bigotry usually the result of early training.-
Cuiherine'B life at Coolook.-IIer trials.-llor zeal for the poor.-Her view,
on the importance of tlie education of women of the lower ola«8es.

JAMES McAULEY had, as we have already stated, entci-ed a
Military Academy, where in course of time he graduated with
honor; and when his study of army tactics and the surgical
■ branches of Materia Medica was completed, he became surgeon
and staif-nfficer, served several campaigns under Sir Arthur Wel-
lesley, afterwards Duke of Wellington ; and having helped to gain
the day the French so bravely contested at Waterloo, retired from
tho army, and practised as physician in Dublin. He was a most
bigoted Protestant, ana in politics was just such another Irishman
as his commander-in-chief, if, indeed, his -ympathies were not with
the " Peep-o'-day Boys," or Orangemen. Mary, while very young,
married Dr. William Macauley, a physician of some eminence.
James and Catherine often met at their sister's, on which occasions
there was generally a little wrangling about religion. The doctors
would descant eloquently on the idolatrous practices of Rone, the
corruption of the Romish clergy, and other topics equally disagree-
able to Catholic ears, but Catherine usually remained silent. Some-
times Mary, who would not willingly pain even a Papist, remon-
strated with the gentlemen for saying what must be Jiriagreeablo
to their dear sisttr. This, of course, drew an apology from the
brothers. They forgot that Kittie was a Ciaholic,— a fact of which,
by their own account, they were generally oblivious. When the
Bccfl&ng at what she held so sacred was at its height, she would
sometimes say : " Now, James and William, you aro discussing a
subject o\ which you know but little. If you would patiently listen
to an explanstion of Catholic dogmas, you might perhaps rovere

.LIFE OF CATHEBINE MCAULEY.

-Cntherlno's con-
eurly training.—
poor."Hcr vwwi

bated, entCi-ed a
graduated with
id the surgical
became surgeon
3ir Arthur Wel-
; helped to gain
loo, retired from
He was a most
inother Irishman
were not with
'hile very yonng,
some eminence,
hich occasions
The doctors
of Rome, the
equally difia^rcL'-
siletit. Somo-
Pttpist, cemon-
uLrfttgreeablo
)logy from the
fact of which,
"When the
sight, she would
are discuaainB; a
patiently listen
perhaps revere

them as I do," Whatever thej cuid, she never evinced the least
annoyance, hoping that their ignorance cxcuijcc! them, and willing
to give them an example of ChriPtinn forbearance.

Dr. William Macanlcy was diametrically opposed to every thing
Catholic — the very term, Roman, was odious to liim ; bigotry in
the highest degree was the peculiar feature of his character. The
benevolence evhiced for mankind in general by Caligula, when he
wished that the whole human race had but one neck, t!int he might
exterminate them at a blow, was reserved by Dr. Wlllium for
Catholics in particular. He used to boast that he never, during
his whole life, left any thing nndone that could injure Catholicity,
wherever ho had the smallest power or inllucnce ; and he thought
this was the most praiseworthy feifture in bis whole conduct — bia
chief title to iieaven.

Thus, from those nearest and dearest to her, had Catherine con-
tinually to suffer ; but God blessed and fortified this youthful con-
fessor.

All her life she had the greatest sympathy for converts, for none
knew better than she the rank prejudice in which Protestants were
then reared ; nor would she give much credit to Catholics, who had
been differently brought up, for showing in their regard the great-
est forbearance. What these gentlemen did, she considered to be
done in ignorance ; and whether that ignorance was invincible or
inexcusable, has long since been decided by an une''ring tribunal.
" Condemn not, and you shall not be condemned," said our Lord ;
and if this divine prohibition had never been uttered, a little reflec-
tion should make us slow to condemn. For, how stands the case
between my friend, who is a bigot, ; ,\d myself, who am not t I was
born a Catholic. 1 was early instructed in the sublime truths of
the ancient faith, and trained to the practice of the duties it im-
poses. My parents did not omit to inform mo that there were
many who knew not God, many who refused to submit to the
Church He established, many who belonged in name to thit
Olit^rch, but disgraced it by their lives. But they told mo, too,
that I must discern between the error and the erring, between sin
and the siimcr ; and that, while bound to hate the first, I was
equally bound to iove the second. Charity, th«y said, wa« the

i
■I

'■^L.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

essence of Christianity; without it there was no true religion, for
only " he that lovcth his neighbor hath fulfilled the law ;" and
they admonished me to win back the straying by evo/y possible
mcanf, especially by prayer and good example. And if, after all
this, I am, or know that I ought to be, charitable, can I deserve
very much praise ?

But how has it been with my friend? He was born— no matter
in what sect. He was early taught that there was one set of
people (in earth whom it would be a good work to exterminate.
I'hey were idolaters, they encouraged men to break God's laws,
ond then pretended to forgive them for money ; they revelled in
every crime, and those who tolerated their wickedness were acces-
sory to their guilt. He was told how angry God was with Saul
for sparing the king of a wicked race, and how the holy prophet
Bamuel cut in pieces the guilty Agag. Many similar instances
were given, *rhich we will be excused from recapitulating, and all
riiine, peihaps, from a fond mother's lips ; and who could doubt
any thing from such a source? Well, this child grew np intolerant
and liigoted ; but could it possibly be otherwise ?

From the period of Catherine's open practice of the Catholic
faith till her happy death, she seemed to live but for the glory of
Uud and the salvation of souls. Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, though
they loved her too well to discard her for following her convictions,
had been much better pleased if she had kept to the creed of her
relatives, or even renounced every creed ; and if they did not
openly coerce her, they did little to check the petty annoyances to
which she was daily subjected. Sevei/al of the professional men of
Dublin were frequent guests at Cool )ck House, and she had but
too many opportunities of hearing them discuss what they calleil
Catholic doctrines : such as the idolatry of the Mass ; the supremo
worship paid to the Virgin ; the despotism of the Romish Church ;
the selling of indulgences. Once, in the midst of a very animated
discussion, Mr, Callahan challenged her to defend her position as
a Catholic. She quietly showed that if abuses occurred, it was iu
spite of the commands of Uio Chui 'i and not because of them,
and gave the company a concise explanation of her creed. Mr,
Callahan wr^ not a little eurprisod to hear her give such gou<l

ae religion, for
he law," and
evci'y possible
nd if, after all
, can I deserve

am— no matter
yas one set of
to exterminate,
ak God's laws,
they revelled in
less were acces-
was with Saul
;hfc holy prophet
jiroilar instances
tulating, and all
fho could doabt
:ew up intolerant

of the Catholic
for the glory of
Callahan, though
5 her convictions,
the creed of her
if they did not
tty annoyances to
•ofessional men of
and she had but
what they called
ass ; the supreme
Romigh Church ;
r a very animated
lier position as
)Cfurrcd, it was iu
because of them,
f her creed. Mr.
r give such go'^1

LIPF! OF CATHERINE MCAULET. M

reasons for the faitli that was in her ; and though a little ashamed
of being puzzled by .so young a jirl, paid a handsome compliment
to her controversi .1 abilities, and did not attack her principles
. again. But the state of religion, at homo and abroad, during the
firsi thirty years of Catherine's life, was such, that it would not bo
easy to banish religious topics frc iny table.

At home, the excitement was ^^ometimes intense. One party
agitating Emancipation in every direction, another violently oppos-
ing it, and not a few remaining neutral. Politically, the country
was in a very unsettled state ; and Oi inge disturbances in the
North, and tithe slaughters in the South, were more than sufficient
to keep up the excitement on all sides. The guests at Coolock
used to declare that every murder and robbery committed, from
Cape Clear to the Giant's Causeway, inclusively, were incited by
the priests ; and that as long as there were men to give an igno-
"^.iit peasantry license to commit crimes, the country could never
be happy or prosperous. Catherine was often surprised to observe
the one-sided views her friends took of every occurrence bearing a
religious aspect. For instance, during the insurrections at the close
of the last century, suppressed at the cost of a hundred thousand
lives, it happened that one Protestant church was demolished.
This fact they were never weary of lamenting, while the sixty-five
Catholic chapels that were burned or demolished in Leiuster alone,
seemed entirely to es( iie their observation. The pitch-caps, and
other barbarous modes of torture inflicted on an inoffensive peas-
antry on the roost trivial pretexts, appeared to excite no sympathy ;
while if an Orangeman got a scratch in a fray, their blood was in-
stantly up. The fact that a few prifsts, finding their little moun-
tain chapels burned, and seeing tlicir flocks assemble in the open
air, many of them bearing tokens but too eloquent of the torture
they had endured, volunteered the opinion that it would be better
to die in a fair field than to bo tortured to death in so savage
a manner, excited the execration of the visitors at Coolock ; while
they ignored the fact that all the Irish bishops, and nearly all the
clergy, used their best influence to prevent an insurrection, tho
results of which they could not but foresee.

Abroad, the everlasting Church had passed through strange

*-M

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

Ticissitudes. Catholicity had been all but annihilated in the fairest
realms of Europe. Priests and religions had been nearly extermi-
nated by banishment or the guillotine ; the royal blood of descend-
ants of St. Louis had dyed the pavements of Paris ; one Pope had
died a martyr in a foreign land ; he was thought to be the last of
the Popes. Yet he had a successor, but that successor had lan-
guisi. "^ for eight years in captivity. Had Pius VII. been thus
treated by an heretical or schismatical power, it would not be sup-
prising ; but the sacrilegious hands that arrested the Vicar of
Christ belonged to His Most Christian Majesty, the Eldest Son of
the Church. A kmg of Rome was born, but he never reigned ;
and from the hour when Napoleon stretched forth his imperial arm
against the feeble old man that crowned him, his star waned, and
in a few years, set in total darkness on the lonely rock of St.
Helena.

If, in these events, as they succeeded each other, there was much
to excite alarm in them and others, there was also something to
excite hope in the breasts of people naturally sanguine, and who
have, as a general rule, the happy quality of looking at the
brightest side of every thing. But those with whom Catherine
was obliged to associate, always saw every occurrence from one
pecui ar point of view.

The conversations Catherine was obliged to listen to were ex-
ceedingly painful to her; so much so, that she often said she
would a great deal rather absent herself from dinner than be forced
to listen to them. To a very dear friend of hers, Mrs. Counsellor
Bearing, she sometimes remarked that it was strange how gentle-
men, otherwise so estimable, continually bore false witness against
their neighbors the Catholics ; adding, that however erudite these
members of the Dublin bar and faculty were in other respects,
they were shamefully ignorant of the doctrines they took such
pleasure in misrepresenting. Mrs. Bearing entirely agreed with
her • and when next the " monstrous state of things" became
the topic, she gently suggested that there was ouc Catholic
present.

Catherine was much pained, too, by the difficulty she found in
attending to her duties «8 » Catholic. A rainy Sunday is by no

UFK OF CATHEBIKE UOAULET.

in the fairest
!arly extermi-
»d of desceud-
uue Pope had
be the last of
;s8or had lan-
II. been thus
id not be sur-
the Vicar of
Eldest Son of
lever reigned;
3 imperial arm
tar waned, and
ily rock of St.

here wa? much
> something to
guine, and who
ooking at the
lom Catherine
•euce from one

;en to were ex-
often said she
• thm be forced
)At3. Counsellor
igc how gentle-
witness against
if erudite these
other respects,
they took such
y agreed with
hings" became
one Catholic

ty she found ia
lunday is by no

means nncommon in Ireland — that land of sunshine and tears — and
her friends expected she would stay at home on such occasions.
But she knew she was obliged, under pain of mortal sin, to assist
at Mass on Sundays and holydays, and nothing could prevent her,
except what the Church recognized as a lawful hindrance, and a
shower of rain was not of this class. Once, Mr. Callahan peremp-
torily ordered h,er to remain within. She sweetly replied that shf
.regretted she could not obey him. He objected that it would be
cruel to men and horses to send them out in such weather ; to
which she responded that she could wrap herself np warmly and
walk. This he would not permit. He was evidently annoyed at
her " positiveness ;" but she carried her point, and had the happi-
ness of seeing the Catholic servants at Mass, too. Mildly but
firmly, she showed her friends that she waa determined to obey
every precept of the Church, and they soon perceived that it was
useless to throw obstacles in her way. She regretted deeply that
she could not assist daily at 'he Holy Sacrifice, and approach the
sacraments h. '^-^n as she desired ; but this was absolutely impos-
sible. Though in the midst of Protestants, she rigorously observed
the fasts and abstmence prescribed by the Church, and others sug-
gested by her own devotion. In Lent and Advent she abstained
from wine and other delicacies, which she always managed to do
without attracting observation. From childhood, she ncer tasted
food or drink of any kind from Holy Thursday till Easter Satur-
du 1 , — a practice she retained till her death. She used, in after-life,
to say that fasting and abstinence were but one thing at Coolock,
for her friends never thonght of having fasting-fare prepared for
her — an omission which seems unaccountable in such kind people.
" I was ashamed to take more vegetables than usual," she would
add, " lest it should be perceived that I ate nothing else."

Mr. and Mrs. Callahan were so decidedly opposed to every thing
Catholic, that they would not allow a crucifix or pious picture in
the house ; but her ingenuity supplied the deficiency — the panels of
the doors which formed a cross, or the branches of trees which
took the same holy form, sufficed to remind her of Jesus crucified
Much of her time was occupied with reading and studies of a serions
nature. She was very fond of history, bat before many years

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

elapsed, she, like the great St. Austin, grew weary of every book
in which the name of Jesns Christ was not mentioned. When
alone, or, os she thought, unobserved, her lips s'jemed to move con-
tinually in prayer. When a child, she had copied, in a rude kind
of type, the Psalter of Jesus, a beautiful praye*-, to which she was
so devoted, that, when a Sister of Mercy, she placed it among the
daily devotions for Lent, at which holy seasoix it is always said
after Vespers. Till she grew up, it was the oaly Catholic prayer
she could gain access to, and she was in the habit of saying portions
of it during the day, even when she walked through the streets.
The following passage she delighted to dwell on :

"O Jesus, make me always remember Thy blessed example,
through how much pain and how little pleasure Thou didst press
on to a bitter death."

The Universal Prayer was likewise a favorite, and she often re-
peated, impressively, that beautiful petition near its close :

" Discover to me, dear Lord, the nothingness of this world, the
greatness of heaven, the shortness of time, and the length of
eternity."

- This prayer she recommends the Sisters to use at some one of
their daily visits to the Blessed Sacrament, as that made after
lecture. The Act of Reparation to the Sacred Heart of Jesus,
and prayers commemorative of the sorrows of Mary, also, were
among her daily devotions.

Thus, laboring to make her own heart the sanctuary of God,
she was no less zealous to draw otlurs to His service. The Cath-
olic servants she careMly instructed and prepared for the sacra-
ments, and all the poor children of the village she used to assemble
at the gate-house on Sundays and festivals. Aware that every
Catholic arrived at tho use of reason is bound to know the principal
mysteries of religion, — as the existence of one God, the Blessed
Trinity, the Incarnation, and Death and Resurrection of our
Saviour, future states of reward and panishment, — she always
commenced with these essentials. This ^t considered so necessary,
that in the second, third, and fourth chapters of her Rule, she
ordained that the Sisters teach them not only to the poor children
whom they instruct, but olso, if necessary, to the sick whom thf y

f of CTCiy book
ationed. When
led to move con-
, in a rude kind
) which she was
;ed it among the
; is always said
' Catholic prayer
if saying portions
)ngh the streets.

blessed example,
Thou didst press

ind she often re-
ts close :

of this world, the
d the length of

e at some one of
that made after
Heart of Jesus,
Mary, also, were

sanctuary of God,
rvice. The Cath-
red for the sacra-
used to assemble
A.ware that every
mow the principal
od, the Blessed
lurrection of our
icnt, — she always
Jered so necessary,
of her Rule, she
the poor children
sick whom they

TJFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

▼isit, and the distressed women whom they protect. Her zeal as
a catechist was wonderful. Those who once heard her instructing
could never forget the nnctlon and earnestness with which she
spoke. By lier genial kindness she obtained an influence over
her pupils which had a beneficial effect on their after-lives.

No one opplied to her in vain for sympatb", relief, or instruction.
If she had not large alms to bestow, she t ' not at least withhold
her mite. There are things the poor prize more highly than gold,
though they cost the donor nothing ; among these are the kind
word, the gentle, compassionate look, and the patient hearing of
their sorrows. Every one can do much to alleviate misery and
increase happiness. If we have not wealth to share with the
indigent, can we not pour the prc' ious balm of sympathy into the
crushed and sorrowful heart ? If we cannot break bread to the
poor, or clothe, the naked, can we not fill thehr hungry souls with
good things, and teach them, by a patient endurance of their pri-
vations, to cover themselves with merit before God ? If each did
a little towards increasing hnman happiness, the world would be
far better than it is, for " Mercy blesseth him that gives and him
that takes."

Sometimes Catherine represented to her parents the distress that
came under her observation, and -they never failed to assist her to
relieve it. Sometimes she would deprive herself of* a fashionable
article of dress, to bestow the price of it on the indigent. Of thia
period of her life, her friend, Dean GafiFney,* writes : " Every one
who had distress to be relieved, affliction to be mitigated, troubles
lo be encountered, came to her, and to the best of her ability she
advised them what to do. Fer zeal made her a missionary in her
district. In these works of cha ity and usefulness she continued
several years, during which sho was rendering herself each day
dearer and dearer to her adopt* d parents. . . . She was ever
indefatigable in her exertions to relieve the wants of the poor."

Catherine had a cpecial attraction for instructing servants, be-
cause she knew that they are exposed to many temptations, and
have it in their power to effect much good. Her '^eal in this ro-

* In liiii sketch already quoted.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

spect never abated, and when God inspired her to found a new
Institute for His glory and tlie honor of His Blessed Mother, she
made the protection of this class of persons its peculiar feature.
A striking passage of her Rule shows how dear this object was to
her heart :

" The Sisters shall feel convinced that no work of charity can be
more productive of good to society, or more conducive to the
happiness of the poor, than the careful instruction of women ;
since, whatever bo the station they are destined to fill, their example
and advice will always possess influence, and wherever a religions
woman presides, peace and good order are generally to be found."
Every one will recognize the wisdom of this short sentence :
"Educate the mothers of your people," said a brilliant au-
thoress to Napoleon, when he inquired how he could best promote
the interests of France. But, because the mothers, by the usages
of society or other causes, are obliged often to absent themselvea
from their children, Catherine would add : " Instruct the nurses
, and waiting-maids too." Certain it is, that the strongest impres-
sions we are capable of receiving are generally made during the
first seven years of our lives. Now, for that period, the care of
all children, from the prince to the beggar, devolves on women —
whether mothers, nurses, or teachers. How important, then, that
these impressions should be such as to enable ns to live well I How
many children have been rendered docile and obedient by the
judicious training of a pious nurse 1 How many, too, ere reason
dawned on their young minds, contracted from a similar source
bad habits, which all the careful management and holy influence
brought to bear upon their after-lives, have been powerless to
eradicate !

"^m

•*k

to found a new
!8ed Mother, she
accullar feature.
is object was to

)f charity can be
anducive to the
ion fif women ;
ill, their example
rever a religions
lly to be found."
rt sentence :

a brilliant au*
Id best promote
*s, by the usages
bsent themselres
truct the nurses
itrongest impres-
made during the
riod, the care of
ves on vomen —
irtant, then, that
live well I How
obedient by the
', too, ere reason
a similar source
id holy influence
«n powerless to

CnAPTER VII.

A soul in danger.— The Servants' A»yliim.— The lost sheep.— Shadows of
coming events.— Cotherine's efforts to mp.ko the poor industrious.— Her mod-
orate cxpeclations.— The rich man and his heiress.

AMONG the visitors at Coolock was a gentleman who possessed
a handsome property in the neighborhood, that had not be-
longed to his ancestors at the Conquest, nor, indeed, to his own
grandfather. His reputation for hunting, gambling, selecting good
wines and using the same, stood deservedly high ; while his sons,
besides being skilled in these accomplishments, bore in many other
respects a very unenviable reputation. Reports of their freaks
daily reached their father, but he foolishly excused them till it was
too late. " They were wild," he said ; " they would get out of it
in time ; there was no use in trying t6 put old heads on young
shoulders — he liked to see a dash of spirit about young men."
There certainly was a dash of spirit about these hopeful scions,
but it was a spkit which wise people, more candid than courteous,
did not hesitate to prophesy would end in dashing them to a place
which genteel people do not like to name. When public opinion
reprobated them as a public scandal, their parents remonstrated ;
but it was then useless. Parental admonition will not easily re-
claim those whom parental example has first decoyed. Miss
McAuley, who was not ignorant of the reputation borne by the
sons of Mr. M., encouraged their female servants to come to her
for counsel and instruction,- especially the housemaid, who, unfor-
tunately for herself, was remarkably handsome. Nor was she igno-
rant that, if poor in gold,

— — — " A very ihowor
Of beauty formed her earthly dower."

And of that dower she was not a little vain. Catharine soon
learned that young Mr. M. was more attenti'-u to her prol,^g6e

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LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

than their relative positions warranted, and that, while she ex-
pected to become his bride, it was evident he was no more serious
in this instance than in others. Sending for the frail girl, sae rea-
soned with her in a manner so conclusive and aflfcctionate, that she
at once offered to leave her situation. Miss McAulcy then rode
into Dublin to procure her admission to a Servants' Asylum. Not
imagining for a moment that her application could be refused, sha
applied at the Convent. Here she narrated the poor girl's story;
but the Sisters could do nothing— it was the secular ladies of the
committee that received all appeals— the committee met every
Monday.

" But, my dear," said she, " the girl may be lost before Mon-
day. Her case is a desperate one, I assure you. Can you not
admit her at once ?"

" We never admit any one," said the Religious, " only the com-
mittee do this."

With a heavy heart she turned homewards. There was a soul
in danger of perishing, and no earthly means of rescue. The object
of her intense solicitude, who was anxiously awaiting her return,
thus accosted her :

" Have you found me any place to stay, ma'am ? If I leave Mr.
M.'s before my quarter is up, I shall have to go without wages."

" By next Monday, please God, I hope to have a comfortable
home for you."

" Next Monday ! Why, ma'am, it is dangerous for me to stay
another ho-.ir in my situation."

" Well, my poor child, come again to-morrow. Perhaps I can
find a safe, quiet place to lodge yon in till Monday."

The girl did not come to-morrow. Catherine never beheld her
fair face again. That very evening, Mr. M., who had received a
hint of her anxiety to quit his father's house, met her as she re-
turned, and all that Miss McAuley could ever learn about the fair
creature was, that she was irremediably lost. Poor child I her
career of sin commenced ere she had seen seventeen summers.
Like a frail, but beauteous bark, which, after tossing bravely on
the blue billows, sinks in sight of a well-manned vessel coming to
the rescue, she sank into the abyss while tho hand of Mercy waa

LIFE OF CATHERINE 2ICAULEY.

, while she ex-
no more serious
li) girl, Eae rea-
lionate, that she
Aulcy then rode
i' Asylum. Not
, be refused, she
)Oor girl's story;
lar ladies of the
littec met every

ost before Mou-
I. Can you not

I, " only the com-

rhcre was a soul
3cue. The object
iitiug her return,

? If I leave Mr.
'ithout wages."
vo a comfortable

18 for me to stay

Perhaps I can

y."

never beheld her
had received a
ct her as she re-
im about the fair

Poor child I her
vputccn summers.
ossiug bravely on

vessel coming to
nd of Mercy waa

stretched out to save her. Happy for her had her face been less
lovely, and her heart less susceptible of the vilo praises of the
flatterer I

Another case of the same kind brought Miss McAuley again to
town; but the ladies could not give a unanimous vole. "There
were, unfortunately, many similar cases, the names on the books
must be first attended to, the committee should be prudent ; con-
verts* thought these things could be easily accomplished, but they
could assure Miss McAuley it was not so, they had their difTicul-
ties," &c. In vain did she represent the danger of delay and the
consequences of refusal, tlie disappointment of tho young creature
who was looking forward with bright hope to such a protection
from ruin that otherwise seemed inevitable. " The full number
ff&s already in the hou^e ; it was useless for ladies to make regula-
tions if they did not observe them." Besides, Lady This, and Hon.
Mrs. That, and Madame Somebody, were absent, and ♦' ir col-
leagues did not wish to make any infringement without their sanc-
tion. She ofTered to defray whatever expense this deviation from
their established rules would occasion ; she even besought them on
her knees not to let this soul bo lost like the other. How they
could resist her tears and importunities it is not easy to imagine ;
perhaps they thought they conceded a groat deal in entering the
gu I's name, and promising to admit her when her turn came. This
was all that could be obtained. Alas I before " her turn came,"
she had los\; that virtue without which woman is wretched and de-
graded beyond all description 1

The temporal and perliaps eternal rnin of these young persons
caused Catherine the most bitter tears she ever shed. But the
lesson was not lost on hor. In the Institute she founded, she made
the protection of distressed women of good character a peculiar
feature. A house for this purpose she desired to see attached to
every Convent of the Order of Mercy ; and when this could not be
established, she wished the Sisters to exert themselves to remove
poor girls from dangerous occasions, to lodge them in safe places,
and to procure them situations. She made efficient regulations for

* Aa Cttberino't frieadi wer« ftll ProteiUDti, ih« wm generally taken for »
oouvert. ,i-,i , '<- *

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

admitting them to the houses in connection with most Convents of
Mercy, without awaiting tiic result of the deUberations of a non-
resident committee. A ccrlKicate of poverty and good character
from a clergyman, the recommendation of a " pious orderly woman,"
or (he knowledge a Sister may have of the danger to wuich a young
person is exposed In a jtarticular instance, is suffieieut to insure
adu.ission. Nothing could exceed the interest she took in these
homes for the virtuous, llcr letters are full of it She thought it
thousand times better to preserve virtue than to restore it. She
knew that the woman who loses her reputation can never after take
her proper position in society, no matter how bitter and sincere her
repentanco ; and she grieved to think that good people seem more
anxious to relieve poverty when accompanied by crime than when
accompanied by virtue. She highl" esteemed Magdalen Asylums,
for she knew that, " he who converteth a sinner from the evil of his
way shall save his own soul ;" but, tliough she permitted her Sisters
to undertake the care of penitent women in places where the ad-
mirable Order of the Good Shepherd had not yet been introduced,
she desired that they should chiefly rpp'y themselves to preserve
the characters of poor girls, by shielding them from the dangers to
which indigence and inexperience necessarily expose them. Pres-
ervation is generally easy, but conversion, after self-respect and the
respect of others are lost, is often impossible, and always difiScult.

Thus did Catherine spend her early years in works of jtiety and
charity, unconsciously preparing herself for her glorious destiny.
Even now she might have said v. ith holy Job : " From my infancy
Mercy grew np with me : and it came out with me from my
mother's womb. I was an eye to the blind and a foot to the lame.
I was the parent of the poor. I wept with him that was afflicted,
and my soul had compassion on the indigent. I have not made
the eyes of the widow wait, nor denied bread to the fatherless."*

In her visits to Dr. Murray, she became aware of the wants of
the Poor Schools of St. Mary's Parish, Abbey-street. She found
the scholars very poorly clad, and though she might easily relievo
their present wants, she had far too much prudence to do so,

* Job, sssl.

''A'

, f' ' *.-*W*j- - '«A>Jlt**M*»!i^_ il^SiflJUlB

mmmi^J^^

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAUL5Y.

it Convents of
ions of a non-
food clir.ractcr
■ilcrly woman,"
wUich a young
L'ieut to insure

took in these
She thought it
•cstore it. She
never after take
and siu'-ere her
jple seem more
irime than when
;dalen Asylums,
n the evil of his
ittcd her Sisters
3 where the ad-
been introduced,
Ives to preserve
n the dangers to
,se them. Pres-
f-respect and the
ilways difficult,
•ks of piety and
rlorious destiny.
Trora my infancy
th me from my
foot to the lame,
lat was afflicted,

have not mado
le fatherless."*

of the wants of
:eet. She found

5ht easily relievo

deuce to do so,

rightly judging that it would be much more elevating to their cbar-
oclcr to teach them to do something for themselves, than to let
them feel they were the recipients of charity. She taught them
various kinds of needlework, plain and fancy knittiny, and the ar-
ticles they made she used to dispose of to her friends, adding a
little to what tliey gave : thus she soon made the children see that
they could earn tlieir own ololLing, and make it too. But desiring
to interest others also in this charitable work, she established a
repository in one of the school-rooms, where such sewing oi fancy-
work as was particularly well executed was exhibited, and she fre-
quently brought her friends to visit the children, to praise their
neatness and encourage them to contribute towards their own sup-
port. Tliese benevolent persons usually purchased some of the ar-
ticles exhibited, for which they paid liberally ; and ere long, St.
Mary's children were clothed as comfortably as tliey could desire,
and they felt an honest pride in relieving their poor parents of so
large a part of their burdens. According to her adopted child's
account, who often accompanied her in these missions of benevo-
lence. Miss McAuley wrought a similar improvement in several
other schools, particularly that of the village of Coolock

In this she set an example well worthy of imitation. Remcw-
bering that maxim of St. Paul, " lie that will not work, neither
let him cat," she always strove to teach the healthy poor some
means of earning their own support, showing them that it was de-
grading to eat any one's bread while chey had strength to work.
But let the poor labor ever so assiduously, there will always bo
l)lenty to exercise charity. Take the common instance of a peiisant
cr laborer — say one of the best of his class, who does not drink,
and is never idle when ho can procure work. His wages are six
or seven shillings* a week : out of tliis ho has tO pay rent ; to
clothe and support perhaps a wife and six or eight children ; per-
haps, too, an nged parent ond some destitute relation. Now if a
child dies, the coffin und shroud will run awny with one week's
wages, pt least ; if h»i or his wife pot the fever, nothing can bo
earned till after recovery ; :!' he dies, the whole family become

* Uf coii.-«o wo Hpuuk of litborors in IrvluiiJ ; but in ouae of nicknoaa, eto., th«
cImh would not bo much better off eUowhcre.

;

i ''

(<?,!

ft,

nara^jn^

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

beggars. The wife and cliililrcn of a reduced tradesman who laiw
guishes a few months or years in consumption, will be no bettet
off ; — and all tliis is misery wliich no human foresight couid pre"
vent. More frequent are the cases in whicii distress comes from
idleness, extravagance, or habitual intoxication : the poor children
of a bad father have to suffer the consequences of his errors.
Kere, charity has to act alone ; the sufferers can do little or
nothing to better their condition : and such instances are and ever
have been numerous. And this is all the better for us, for, " As
long as you did it not to one of these Aly least brethren, you did
it not to Me ;" and how could we minister to Him if we did not
see Him suffering in His members ?

It is a source of inexhaustible consolation to the poor all the
world over, that the Holy Family have sanctified poverty, and
raised it above thrones and sceptres. But nothing ever sanctified
sloth. Tradition tells us that Mary, now Queen of heaven and
earth, assiduously plied her needle to aid in supporting her Divine
Child, and earn wherewith to assist those poorer still ; and the rev-
elations of tile Saints assert the same. Cliristian art has ever de-
lighted to represent the Fair Boy of Nazareth, whom the Jews
knew only as the " carpenter's son," standing by Joseph's side,
and working at his humble trade ; and ploughs, and other imple-
ments fashioned by the Divine hands of Jesus and the holy hands
of His foster-father, were among the most jealously hoarded relics
of the ancient Christians, It is good to feed and clothe the poor,
but it would be much better to teach them seme honest means of
earning their support, or even contributing to it. Thus we teach
them to avoid idleness, and in avoiding idleness they avoid sin.
Besides, this inspires in the poor a sort of self-respect which is to
them a great safeguard. '» Help yourself and heaven will help
you," was a maxim Catherine strongly inculcated on the healthy
poor. SIu) had a special compassion for tliose who had seen better
days, or were ashamed to make known their indigence. Such per-
Bons she always assisted and supplied witii work privately, anxious
to enable tliem to keep up some little appearance of the respecta-
bility in which they had been reared. We are thus copious in our
account of the works of bcucvoience in which Catlieriue spent her

'^^k:

LIF.^ OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

esman who lath
11 be no bette!
sight couid pre"
CSS comes from
lie poor children
3 of his errors,
lau do little or
;cs are and ever
for us, for, " As
irethreu, you did
m if we did not

the poor all the
3d poverty, and
ig ever sanctified
i of heaven and
)rting her Divine
Jll ; and the rev-
art has ever dc-
\vhora the Jews
)y Joseph's side,
and other imple-
1 the holy hands
ily hoarded relics
clothe the poor,
honest means of
Thus we teach
>s they avoid sin,
aspect which is to
heaven will help
[1 on the healthy
10 had seen better
sjeiice. Such per-
privately, anxious
I of the rcspeeta-
uis copious iu our
ithcriue spent her

1, ^ii^J^iAm^. ,

years, because we hope she may become an example, as she cer-
tainly is a reproach, to many a lady who has better opportunities
of aiding the poor, and more wealth at her disposal than Cath-
erine had while she resided at Coolock-House.

All this time she cherished the project of establishing a house
for poor women, though unless a glimpse of the future were vouch-
safed her, she could hardly ever hope for its accomplishment. The
beautiful face of the young girl whom she had vainly sought to
rescue, haunted her night and day ; its pleading look was imprinted
on her very soul ; and it was always a fresh bitterness to Ler to
think how easily that poor lost sheep could have been saved. Fre-
quently she would start from her sleep, her dreams being so vivid
that she could not at once be certain they were only dreams.
Visions of mercy disturbed her very slumbers, which no Joseph
came forward to interpret. Now she was surrounded by poor
girls who fled to her for protection against a fate to which the
most cruel death is preferable ; again she was beside some dying
creature whom she prepared for heaven. Now hundreds of poor
children besought her to have pity on thcra : again she roamed
through the prisons instructing those whom malice or ignorance
had placed withia their dismal walls. Sometimes she wept and
sobbed as if in terror ; and again her whole countenance assumed
its haJjitual look of serenity. Mrs. Callahan's delicacy having
made her a confirmed invalid, Catherine now slept in her chamber ;
but on these occasions her presence there was a source of pain and
anxieiy to the kind-hearted lady.

" Catherine," she would often say, " I almost wish you never
slept. It is frightful to see you. You seem to suffer ngoiiy in-
stead of enjoying repose."

What did these visions portend ? Were they sent without a
purpose, or were they shadows of coming events, cast long before
the hopes which they inspired could have their realization ? Did
God thus manifest to her, as to so many of Ilis sainted children,
the glorious destiny to be one day fulfilled in her ?

As the rising sun, wlien he peeps above the distant horizon, gives
promise of the noonday splendor of his all-pervading brilliancy ; as
the scarce perceptible fragrance of the tiny rosebud gives hope of

! '

ll'l
Hi

■ . I

iW'

c«.«M|ippppw>i«in'

'1 1 1 ii <vif 0f n; yt!^

LIFE OP CATHERIITE MCATTLET.

the gorgeous flower ; as the silvery blossoms, that deck with nn-
imaginable beauty the fresh green trees of the joyous spring-time,
bid us expect the golden fruits of autumn ; — even so, the virtues,
the labors, the sufferings, nay, the very upose of Catherine Mc-
Auley, foretold her future greatness. Faitiiful over few things,
she deserved to be placed over many.

During the last two years of her life, Mrs. Callahan never left
her room. For many a weary month did Catherine watch by her
sick-bed, bestowing on her every care filial Icve could suggest.
Her eyes grew so weak that she could scarcely bear the least
glimmer of light, so that her young nurse was obliged to sit in
almost perpetual darkness. To remedy this inconvenience, she
invented a sort of shaded lamp, which she placed in a position from
which its light could not reach the patient. By its dim rays she
read spiritual books while the sufferer slumbered. Thus, she con-
tinued to improve her stock of spiritual knowledge, and in after-
life her intimate acquaintance with catechetical works, the lives cf
the Saints, and the writings of the most approved ascetics, proved
that she had not read in vain. Mr, Callahan observed with anxiety
her care-worn looks ; he often suggested that she should see more
Bociety, dress more fashionably, ride out more frequently, but she
invariably assured him that she was quite content, and that any
thing calculated to involve loss of her precious time could not in-
crease her happiness. It was a subject of surprise to him that a
young lady, handsome and accomplished, should, of her own choice,
lead a life so secluded and monotonous. One day he asked her
whether there was any ihing on earth she wished <'or ? She re-
plied, there was not, unless it were means of doing more good
among the poor.

" But if I were to die, Kitty, what would you then do ? You
don't seem inclined to accept any matrimonial offer."

She told him she had not thoug'it of tiiat contingency, but was
sure that in any case God would take care of her.

"But, would you not like to be very rich?" persisted the old
gentleman.

•' Whatever God pleases, Mr. Callahan," was the quiet reply.

The owner of Coolock House gazed with surprise on the quiet,

deck with nu-
ns spring-time,
;o, the vivtnca,
Catherine Mc-
er few things,

ihan never left
e watch by her
eouUl suggest.
bear the least
bliged to sit in
onveuience, she
a position from
its dim rays she

Thus, she con-
ge, and in after-
orks, the lives cf

ascetics, proved
rved with anxiety
should see more
;quenily, but she
nt, and that any
ime could not in-
se to him that a
)f her own choice,
lay he asked her
cd for? She re-
doing more good

er.

then do ? You

itingency, but was

persisted the old

the quiet reply.
priFC on the quiet,

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

happy face of his adopted child, and he knew she spoke the senti-
merrts of her heart. There was something deep within her which
he learned to venerate, though he knew not what that something
was. He had known many a woman, old, young, or matare, but
he had never known any like the gentle, unassuming girl, whose
virtues made his happy home brifrhter. She was now bloommg
into

" A perfect woman, noWy planned
To warn, to comfort, to commund ;
And yet a spirit stilt and bright,
With somctliing of an angd's light."

And of all who ever knew her, not one appreciated her more
highly than the benevolent, philosophical William Callahan, who
staked his thousands and fens of thousands on her virtue, leaving
her his whole fortune, without a single clause to limit her in the
application of it.

One day he suggested that, as her adopted father, he had a
right to know what she intended to do with herself after his death
He was merely trying to find out whether there was any truth in
the report that she intended to become a nun.

" I think I should take a small house," said she, " and support
a few poor women, whom I could instruct and teach to work."

Mr. Callahan, greatly amused at this project, inquired how much
would support the modest establishment she projected.

The future heiress mused a little, and then said :

" I think the interest of a thousand pounds would be quite
sufficient."

" Catherine," said he, " your dewres are very moderate, but if
ever you possess wealth you will do good with it."

She could not help thin! ing that with a thousand pounds, which
he considered such a trifle, she could gladden the heart of many a
widow, and warm the shivering limbs of many a houseless orphan.
1 he poor w 3re in her thoughts by day and her dreams by night.
" Lord," she would say, " you know I am unable to do what you
seem to require of rac. Give what thou oommandest, and com-
mand what then pleasest."

I,, !

i igi. 'i' Hii ' .iL.uia

CHAPTER VIII.

Conversion of Mrs. Callahan. — Ilcr dealh. — Iler husband's grief. — Rev. Mr.

M prescribes u>ine as a preparation to die well. The new gospellers anO

the old. — Mr. Callahan's conversion and death.— His will. — Very Rev. Dr.
Armstrong. — His disiutercstedaess.

THE continual pressure of a disease more wearying than pain-
ful became, tjftards the end, alrac^t too much for Mrs. Callar
ban. To bp""* h' r pains joyfully, or even gracefully, was more
than she attempted, nor did she find tolerable resignation always
easy. If the reader have known by experience what it is to endure
the restlessness and sleepless nights of a tedious illness ; if he longed
to rove through the fragrant meadows, inhaling the invigorating
breeze, and yet had not strength to stand upright ; if he eagerly
desired to gaze on the cloudless beauty of the blue canopy of
heaven, and yet was unable to open the poor eyes, which headache,
and heartache, and excruciating neuralgia conspired to dim forever,
he will not be angry with our poor invalid for occasionally growing
querulous and dispirited. Her friends were more grieved than
surprised to hear that physicians no longer entertained any hope of
her recovery. Poor lady, she felt that though her days were
numbered, her illness "Tvould be a protracted one, and she was
haunted with the fear that her friends would tire of her. Yet Mr.
Callahan's affection for the wife of his youth never waned, and
no child could love her mother more ardently than Catherine loved
the helpless invalid, who clung to her, and expected her, above all
others, to soothe her.

Morally good and kind as Mr, and Mrs. Callahan were, Cathe-
rine knew that they were scarcely less bigoted than her fierce
brother-in-law ; nevertheless she ceased not to pray, and procure
prayers and masses for their conversion. The fact that she was a
Catholic they completely ignored ; and if her religion were men-

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

s grief.— Rev. Mr.
new gospellers ana
,11 —Very Bev. Dr.

arying than pain-
ch for Mrs. Callor
cefuUy, was more
•esignation always
rhat it is to endure
[nessjifhe longed
r the invigorating
Jht ; if he eagerly
he blue canopy of
es, which headache,
red to dim forever,
ccasionally growing
more grieved than
rtained any hope of
igh her days were

one, and she was
Ire of her. Yet Mr.

never waned, and

[ban Catherine loved

,ectcd her, above all

vllahan were, Cathe-
[ted than her fierce
lo pray, and procure
fact that she was a
religion were men-

tioned, it was only as a subject of hatred or ridicule. Mrs. Calla-
han belonged to a sect which has given some illustrious converts to
the Church, but perhaps fewer in proportion than iiny other. For-
getting that the greatest potentates on earth are Catholics as well
as the grandest families, she regarded Catholicity as a vulgarity,
and scornfully pointed out the poor Catholic chapels then in Dub-
lin as " the servants' and beggars' meeting-houses." Catherine had
often vainly tried to insinuate a little information on this subject.
As soon as it was broached the headache returned with redoubled
violence, and the invalid suddenly remembered that the doctors
ordered her not to let any thing excite her. Another might have
given up in despair, but Catherine prayed on, and hoped even
against hope.

One day the sick lady, starting out of an unquiet slumber, asked
her what she was reading. Catherine, hoping she would now have
an opportunity of saying more on the subject, replied that she was
reading a Catholic book.

" Kittie," continued the invalid, " I have often been curious to
know what induced you to ioin that vulgar sect ; your friends were
all Protestants."

" And I would have been only too glad at any time to satisfy
your curiosity," said Catherine ; after which she gave a concise
account of her early yeara, explaining what induced her to become
a practical Catholic.

"But," said Mrs. Callahan, " what do Catholics believe?"

Catherine commenced with the sign of the Cross, and explained
with such unction the sublime truths of her holy faith, that, like
Agrippa, the attentive listener was " almost persuaded" of the
truth of what she heard. Yariona points of difference between
the old Church and the new were then touched upon. The one
founded by Christ, the others by mere men ; the one " believing
whatever the Son of God has spoken,"* the others denying the
truth of His plainest expressions ; the one with the Holy Ghost
saluting Mary blessed among women, the others maintaining that
the Mother of God is but an ordinary mortal ; the one venerating

• <' Credo quldquid dixit Dal ¥iii\it."—Adoro n.

M i^vi.r

100

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

the Saints, of whom the Scripture says, " Thy friends, O Lovd. are
exceedingly honorable," the other denying to them the honor freely
given to the pagan engcs and heroes ; the one declaring with the
Apostle tliat "faith cometh by hearing," the other maintaining
that faith does not come by hearing, but by reading the Bible,
thougli but a small fraction of the human race can read. The one
a fruitful mother of virgins, apostles, and martyrs, the mighty
mistress of art and science, whose zeal reaches to the ends of the
earth, whose charity embraces all nations, who rules the world from
the Rock of Peter with the tenderness of a mother and the vigi-
lance of a true shepherd ; the other cramped and stunted, the
ghost of a Church, the barren fig-tree.

A new wol-Id had been opened to the gaze of Mrs. Callahan, but
for many weeks she was undecided as to her future course. Cathe-
rine, with that exquisite tact, or, rather, supernatural prudence for
which she was distinguished, followed up her advantage, always
seizing the right moment, and never obtruding her remarks.

" I believe all you say as firmly as you do yourself," said the
catechumen one day, " but I cannot receive baptism from a priest ;
neither could I promise, in case of recovery, to profess the Catholic
faith openly."

Catherine mildly suggested that her eternal salvation was at
stake, and showed her that, if we have been victims of human
respect all our lives, e ought at least be honest with God in our
dying moments, especially when He gives that conviction which
He evidently intends to be followed by conversion.

" I cannot see a priest," said the lady, in great agitation.

" And why not ?" asked Catherine. " You are dying now, and
you can have nothing to fear."

" It is not that — it is not that," responded the noble lady, " but
Mr. Callahan would discover it, and he would at once suspect that
you counselled the step. Now, I cannot bear to think of ruining
your prospects."

" Is that all ?" said Catlicrine, greatly relieved, yet moved to
tears by the affection of her mother. " God will take care of me.
I would risk brighter prospects, and even my life, for your salva-
tioQ." But Beeiog that the ladjr still hesitatedi she added : ** If

s, O Lovd. are
he honor freely
larinc? with the
ler maintaining
ding the Bible,
read. The one
,rs, the mighty
the ends of the
3 the world from
her and the vigi-
md stunted, the

[rs. Callahan, but
e course. Cathe-
ural prudence for
dvantage, always
r remarks,
yourself," said the
ism from a priest ;
rofess the Catholic

i salvation was at

victims of human

St with God in our

t conviction which

on.

:&t agitation.

are dying now, and

lie noble lady, " but

at once suspect that

to think of ruining

ieved, yet moved to

will take care of me.

life, for your salva-

ted, she added : ** 1^

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

101

possible, I will bring the priest without Mr. Callahan's knowl-
edge."

Mr. Callalian, who was very active-ininded, had, on his return
from India, accepted the post of head lecturer on chemistry in the
Apothecaries' Hall, Dublin, in order tiiat he might have something
definite to occupy him. This involved certain absence from home
on lecture-duys. On one of tiesc. Miss McAuley rode to a distant
parish, and returned accompanied by Rev. Dr. Kcogh, who admin-
istered baptism to Mrs. Callahan, and promised to return next
lecture-day. Words cannot describe lie delight and gratitude of
the fervent neophyte. When Mr. Callahan came home, he was
surprised to find her so happy. Death no longer had any terrors
for her — she even rejoiced at its approach.

Two reasons induced Miss JSIcAuley to choose Dr. Kcogh for
receiving her dear mother into the Ciiurch : first, he was an able
controversialist, and the convert might have difficulties to clear up
which she did not reveal to her instructress ; and next, he was not
personally known to the inmates of the house. She was not then
aware that he had a very bad memory. Mrs. Callahan counted
the hours till the time of his promised visit came, but he did not
make his appearance. When relating the particulars of this con-
version, Mother McAuley could not refrain from tears. She used
to say that Mrs. Callahan's ardent devotion, her intense longing to
receive every blessing the Church confers on her departing children,
her eager desire to participate even once in the Adorable Sacra-
ment, would excite fervor in the coldest heart. Dr. Keogh was
again sent for. He came directly, and apologized for having foi-
gottcn his former appointment. Bending ov;r his penitent, in
whom life was almost extin *, he whispered softly :

" Have you been anxious vO see me again ?"

The dying convert, her eyes beaming with intense joy and her
face flushed with happiness, exclaimed, with touching earnestness :

" Never was human eye more anxious to look on another."

These words were well remembered by Catherine. Tlicy rang
in her ears long after she who uttered them was laid in the silent
grave.

Dr. Keogh heard her confession, and anointed her. He promised

■i

i 5^

--':,,.i.U4Ji^ii- ' i-U''Wii»miL- .

102

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

to return with the Holy Yiaticum, but he forgot his engftgement,
or was perhaps prevented by otlier duties from attending to it, till
it was too lute.

The day after Dr. Keogli's second and last visit, Mr. Callahan
asked whether she would iiavc some minister to read to her ?

" No, William," she replied, " I want nothing of the kind. I
feel joyful in the hope of being soon with God, The last few days
have been the happiest of ray life."

" IIow is it that you feel so happy now ?" he asked.

She smiled, sweetly, but made no reply. In a moment the death-
rattle sounded ominously in his car, and before five minutes the
spirit had returned to Him that made it.

"Can this be death!" thought the bereaved husband, as he
gazed on the face of her wl'osc " youth had been renewed like ihe
eagles.' " A smile still rested on her parted lips, and the awful
beauty of death seemed lovelier than the loveliest thing in life.
No wonder that the ransomed soul did not depart without leaving
the impress of its happiness on the emaciated features. She had
carried lier baptismal iuuoccnce to the judgment-seat. Unable to
procure for her Catholic burial, Catherine had Masses offered for
her.Roul, and even contrived to put some "blessed clay" in her
coffin.

Wi.en Mr. Callahan returned from the funeral of her who, of
her sixty-five years of life, had been his companion for fifty, his
face was haggard and his step unsteady. While r>he lingered, the
excitement of seeing doctors, and bestowing every little attention
that could please or gratify her, had kept up his spirits, but now
his home seemed lonely and deserted ; nothing could cheer him.
The iron constitution, which the tropical sun of India had not
injured, was soon incurab'y affected. This was natural enough for
an octogenarian, but ha had been so robust that Catherine fondly
hoped he would live rr-.any years, and die without much sickness ;
dropping into the grave " like ripe fru't into its mother's Inp."
Wlieii jjiessed to consult new physicians, he replied that he knew
enough of their science to be certain that his case was beyond
their skill.

Rev. Mr. M , rector of a neighboring parish, on visiting

'.U.

::j>Ji,'/f

engagement,
ling to it, till

]SIr. Callahaa

to htr ?

' the kind. I

; last few days

;d.

nent the death-

ive minwtes the

ausband, as he
cnewed like iho
and the awful
st thing in life,
without leaving
turcs. She had
■at. Unable to
asses offered for
3cd clay" in her

nl of her who, of
lion for fifty, his
she Ungered, the
ry little attoution

spirits, but now
could cheer him.
:)f India had not
atural enough for

Catherine fondly
lit much sickness ;
its mother's lap."

icd that lie knew

case was beyond

parish, on visiting

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

103

him was shocked to perceiT" the change a few weeks had wrought.
The invalid, who was beginning to have some vague notions that
he ought to do something for his soul, asked the minister for some
advice as to how he ought to spend the short time that remaine>1
to him. But, ia order that the response may be fully appreciated,
we must glance at wliat history and tradition say of Irish parsons
in general.

It is well known that nothing was left undone to establish the
Reformation in Ireland, yet the people continued Cathohc almost
to a man. Penal laws made it death to exercise the fimctions of
the priesthood, but if the people could not have tneir own clergy
they were quite willing to dispense with the ministrations of others.
The Reformers, who ^ rondly boasted that they had unshackled
the human intellect, that they were friends of education and freedom,
consigned to perpetual ignorance those who refused to adopt their
peculiar views. " This was the unkindest cut of all," for Ireland
had been a nation of saints and scholars, and iu nil her domestic
wars never did victor or vanquished lay sacrilegious hands on her
monasteries, or appropriate her benefices ; tiiis was the work of the
Reformation. "While the restraint upon foreign and domestic
education was part of a horrible and impious system of servitude,"
says Edmund Burke, " the members were well fitted to the body.
To render men patient under a deprivation of ul! the rights of
human nature, every thing which could give a knowledge or feeling
of these rights was rationally forbidden. To render humanity fit
to be insulted, it was fit that it should be degraded. Indeed, I
have ever thougiit that the prohibition of the means of improving
our rational nature is the worst species of tyranny that insolence
or perverseness ever dared to exercise."

The parsonc, of course, had little or nothing to do with regard
to clerical duties. Each wore his orthodox costume, and drew his
salary, and arauseu himself as best lie could. Even as late as 1844,
notwithstanding the influx (f Scotch and English settlers, which
Irish emigration and the sales of encumbered estates produced,
lliere were a hundred and fifty-one parishes in Ireland that had not
a single Protestant. But, in earlier times, Dean Swift's exordium,
" My dearly bcbved Roger," was nothing singular, for the

i;; ^13Jl!;^...i.-.i' ' !!i!^^. -zn;«e"

104

:iFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

2le»'k alone was tlic actual representative of many o " congregation."
But even if a full house heard the preface, and awaited the perora-
tion, the preacher's eloquence was lost, for few of the people under-
stviod English, and fewer still of the ministers could speak Irish.
It IB not strange that men who accepted salaries for these fatiguing
ministrations should not bear a very high character for apostolic
virtues.

Verily, there was a direct contrast between the old gospellers
and the new. Those had come with the riches of evangelical
poverty, despising silver and gold,* and working miracles in the
name of the Lord Jesus ; while these with brigand chivalry de-
manded your money or your life ! Those had healed the sick,
raised the dead, and opened the eyes of the blind ; while these
murdered the sons of the widow for refusing to pay their well
earned tithes.f Those lived in the severe grandeur of apostolic
austerity ; these revelled in the delightful but enervating influences
of domestic happiness. Those covered the land witii monasteries
and schools, which gave gratuitous support and education to
students fron: all parts of the world ; these tore down the mon-
asteries and made it treason to teach in these schools. Those
preached to tens of thousands on the green hills of Tara and in the

• Said a wcnltliy jirclato to St. Tliornaa Aquinas : " Brother TliomnB, we
cannot Huy at) did our prodooessors in the Church — 'Silver iind gold I linvo
none.' " "No," quietly retorted the angclio doctor, "uud neither can jou sny
to the lame—' Stand up and walU.' "

i Thi» is all niattor of history. Collecting the tithes was the only vnlvo
through which the pent-up zeal of the parsons could goncrnlly csciipo. As Into
as 183'2, n minister, whoso nnn:o had as well drop into oblivion, ordored six
persons to be shot in his prosonco for refusing to pay " the ministers' money."
liii« happen' d neut Formoy, on the farm of Mrs. Ryan, a widow, who, for
dome reason or other, refused to pay tlio tithes. The parson gave the word,
" Are," but it was not until six persons were killed, among whom were throe of
her own sons, that the poor woman paid him his fees, and in future he might
take all she hud, as far as she was concerned; she was too brokuii-heartod to
offer any resistanoo. Later still, his Britaniiio mijesly's invincible " Ilus>ur8"
wero employed in the dignined business of ehoi-ing to market, to sell for
"niluisters' money," floeks of geese, Ac, owned by poor farmers. These
feats certainly caused more laughing tlian crying, even among the poor people
who bewailed the loss of their faathored live-stook, Ijoe O'Ned Ukunl'ii llintorr
of Ireland, <&o., <bo.

>i4V)J^^.t^(^i,

MS^

" congregation."
lited the perora-
iie people under-
ul<l speuk Irish.
I- tlicse fatiguing
ter for apostolic

old gospellers
!S of evangelical
r miracles in the
;and chivalry de-
healed the sick,
ind ; wliilc these
) pay their well
idcur of apostolic
■rvating influences

with monasteries
and education to
re down the raon-
s schools. Those
ofTaraandin the

Brother ThomiiB, we
ver unci gold 1 liavo
id iioithor can jou Bay

1 was tlio only viilve
ernlly escnpo. A» Into

oblivion, ordered six
ho uiiniKturs' money."
m, a widow, wlio, for
iirson pavo tlio word,
n(t wliom were tliroe of
and in fiitnre he might

too \)rokon-hcnrtod to
H invinciblo " lliis>ar»"

to market, to sell for
■ i)oor furmorrt. Tlicse

iitnong the poor people
> O'Neil Uauut'ii HiBlory

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

105

Bacred groves of the Druids ; the fowls brooded unmolested over
their chickens in the pu'pits of these.

The Irish peasantry might be very ignorant, but they had more
logic in tliem than they always got credit for. They might not,
perhaps, know that Asers mother was called Zelpha, tiiat Joel
was the name of Samuel's eldest son, that Sephora was the wife
of Moses, or that Job had a daughter called Cassia ; but they
knew how to distinguish the shepherd from the hireling, and they
judged the tree by its fruits. It was a crime for tiiem to learn to
read ; but tlie law did not pluck out their eyes, and with these they
could read much, thougli they never handled a book. The way-
side crosses, the holy wells, tlie roofless churclies, the moss-grown
ruins that studded their land by hundreds ;— the ruined monastery,
beneath the shadow of whose blessed walls they loved to lay their
cherished dead ; — all these spoke volumes to the hearts of an im-
pulsive, warm-hearted people. Besides, the hunted priest often
stole in among them, and cek'brated mass in a field or in a cave,
wliile their boys, from the tops of trees and from the neighboring
hills, kept a steady lookout, to give warning of the approach of
the "discoverers." Hence, after such barbarous and lengthened per-
secution, the Irish race of to-day is as Catholic as St. Patrick left
it fourteen centuries ago.

But to return to our narrative.

Mr. Callahan was not, by any means, what is termed a pioui
man ; he seldom entered any church, and the strongest religious
feeling he ever evinced was a negative one, consisting in intonse
dislike for the Romish Church. But he was a man of high moral
worth and refined literary tastes ; he had a keen sense of the fit-
ness of things, whica made him expect something like piety from
every one whom the law authorized to prefix Revet end to his
name. Besides, he had some shadowy notions that the Book of
Common Prayer contained special instructions for the dying, and
ho naturally expected that a clergyman would be able to expound
them, and assist him in some innnncr to prepare for the awful
moment, which he knew could not be far off. In health, ho had
trusted to his moral rectitude — in his last sickness he yearned for
something more.

I 81 jTiMfMn <ttii#J

106

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

" What must I do," he asked, " to prepare well for my passage
to eternity ?"

Mr. M. was a jovial, good-natured man, who never pretended to
any great fluency on religious topics. AiTecting ; ct to coiupreheud
the drift of so plain a question, he rose, advanced towards the
dying man, who lay on a sofa in the drawing-room, and bending
over him with affection, not, perhaps, insincere, he said :

" My dear sir, I think your only disease is lowness of spirits, and
you could hardly have a worse one. Order up the best wines* in
your cellar, and make free use of them. This will strengthen j on,
and promote cheerfulness. That is what you want, my friend."

This reply to such a question seemed shocking to Mr. Callahan.
With ill-concealed annoyance, he said :

" I have not consulted you on my physical debility, sir. These
matters I refer to my physicians. I merely desired that you would
give me, in my present uncertain state, some counsel as to how I
ought to prepare for death.''

His Reverence looked thoughtful, " would not like to enter just
now on such an unpleasant subject, sorry his old friend wouldn't
cheer up, we might as well enjoy life while it is given us ;" and
rising to make his adieux, promised to return soon. Catherine, who
was a quiet spectator of this interesting scene, remarked on the
placid countenance of the sick man an expression of something not
unlike disgust. She had often wished to speak to him of the
Catholic faith, and she now felt that the hour of grace could not
be distant. No sooner had Mr. M. retired than the poor gentle-
man closed his eyes, a prey to conflicting emotions. Sad and agi-
tated, he recalled all ho had ever learned about religion, from the
time he lisped the Lord's Trayer at his mother's krec. But it
gave him no comfort. The Gospel seemed to him now but a

* Tula BUgKcstion nbout tho " best wino" nniioyod Mr, Culluhan thu more as
lie wns a very abHtomloim innii, wlio Bcnrccly over tuHtcJ wiiio himself, tliongh
he kept what his guoiitK ciilIoU tliu best of vellun*. IIo UitcJ to tell Cittlierine
thiit It wiu) quite it mintuke to oiippuso tliat tlio uho of alccliolio liquorx oould ho
prodiiotivo of any good, or uiiprudiictivo of injury; and Iiih oi>inlon had tlie
inoro weight, ns lio was comtiderod tlie biist clieiuist in Dublin, J(d tilrongly
rocommeuded ''well-browod volToc," oh a gtimulunt; but liad Catherine titken
it as liberally as ho prescribed, her uerves hud uct becc os strong as they wert.

,iA^-^

for my passage

cr pretended to
to comprehend
ed towards the
m, and bending
said :

5s of spirits, and
e best wines* in
strengthen jou,
, my friend."
Mr. Callahan.

lity, sir. These

that you would

iel as to how I

ke to enter just

friend wouldn't

given us;" and

Catherine, who

emarked on the

:)f something not

: to him of the

grace could not

the poor gentle-

. Sad and agi-

eligion, from the

*8 krec. But it

him now but a

^iilluhun thu inoro as
Ana himself, tliongh
icJ to toll Cialicrina
olic liquors ooulil ho
liis opinion had the
ubliii. l\<i Biroiigly
had Cnthcrlne tuken
strong as thoy wer*.

i^i^Si^ji^gi^sffn'-

mmmm

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

107

beautiful theory, as he asked himself whether the ministers who
professed to expound it lived according to its maxiiiis. If they do
not, thought he, who can ? And if no one does or can, wlmt is it
all but a fine speculation ? And after all his rigid practice of
moral virtue, his late aspirations after higher things, must he die
with the causa caui^arum* of the heathen on his lips f

This struggle did not escape Catherine's penetration. For a
while she waa;hed it in silence, then she rose and essayed to speak,
but her courage failed. At last, unable to conceal her emotion,
she approache<l, clasped his hands, sank on her knees beside him,
and, powerless to utter a word, burst into tears. Now, Catherine
was one of the most undemonstrative of human beings ; it seemed
impossible to ruffle her composed exterior or surprise her out of
her self possession ; so, when Mr. Callahan saw this agitation, he
felt certain something dreadful had happened. Soothing her with
gentle words, he begged she would coniide to him the cause of her
trouble, but she trembled so violently that he was really frightened.
When she recovered somewhat, he asked, as if pained by her want
of confidence in him, whether he had ever given her reason to doubt
the sincerity of his affection ?

" I have loved you as my own child," said he, " and why will
you not trust me?"

" It is for you that I am troubled," she replied, A-ith some effort.

*' What I do you think I am in imminent danger ?"

*' Indeed, I do think you in danger, sir ; but the danger of your
immortal soul is the chief cause of my anxiety."

" Be tranquil, then ; you have excited yourself unnecessarily.
Rest assured I will do for my soul whatever is necessary. Perhaps
you want me to become a Catholic," he continued, with a peculiar
smile, which meant — " You might as well try to turn me into a
Brahmin or Maiiometan."

Not in the least daunted, Catherine, whose tears were now dried
up, candidly replied : " Nothing less will satisfy me, sir."

" Whether I am convinced or not ?" objected Mr. Callahan. " I

* " I ooterad this world in sin ; I have lived in anxiety ; I depart in pertorbA-
tion. Cause of Ouusos, pity m« '—Said to be Aristotle's lost words.

I II

Il*i

108

LIFE OP CATHEniNE MCAULET.

cannot, then, gratify you. Ynn must convert mo first." And here
the nrch smile ajraiu played about his lips, as though such a C03-
versioii were an impi)ssil)ility.

ijhe expatiated on the happiness and peace he would f(:el on be-
coming a child of the Catholic Caurch ; which she could the more
easily do, as lie had not concouled from her the terrible agitation
which had lately begun to torment hira. As she had a profound
respect for his great learning, and felt timid of attempting to ia-
struci him, she begged that be would see a priest. Merely to
gratify her, he consented to sec Very Rev. Mr. Armstrong, but
simi)ly as a visitor.

He received Father Armstrong with great politeness, listened
to his explanations with marked attention, and, of his own accord,
entreated that he would be good enough to repeat his visit at his
earliest conveu'ence. Dr. Armstrong was the first priest he bad
ever conversed with ; and the dignity of his bearing, the benevo-
lence of his countenance, and his gentle, unassuming air, made a
most favorable impression. He was at this time Catherine's con-
fessor, and, at her request, many a prayer he had offered for the
conversion of her adopted father.

On Dr. Armstrong's second visit, Mr. Callahan asked many
qnestioriB, and proposed many doubts. Obstacles which he had
hitherto thought insurmountable ceased to be such when presented
in a difterent light from that in which he had been accustomed to
consider them. There was now no motive for doing violence to his
conviction, '^o self-interest to dispute the supremacy of conscience.
There never had been any link to bind him to error, otherwise than
the persuasion that error was truth, and when that link was broken,
its hold upon his mind was lost forever. He was received into the
Church by the Rev. Dr. Armstrong, and spent the remainder of his
life, almost a year, in me fervent exercise of every virtue he could
practise on his bed of sickness.

Concluding his account of this remarkable conversion, at which
we have merely glanced. Very Rev. Dominic Murphy says :

" The circinnstances of his birth and position in society, and not
any obduracy ou his own part, had hitherto excluded him from the
true Church. But now tho*, all obstacles were overcome, who can

,«;n»ti,iii j 5a «« n

m s i • ■ w "T'l n '-^ '»? a ^H' * ^^"^''

And here
such a C03-

i ffccl on be-
ild tlie more
)le agitation
a profound
ipting to in-
Merely to
nstrong, but

less, listened
own accord,
is visit at his
iriest he had
, the benevo-
; air, made a
theriue's con-
ffered for the

asked many
rhich he had
len presented
ccustomed to
iolence to his
of conscience,
therwisc than

[ was broken,

!ved into the
attainder of his

rtue he could

sion, at which
says :

iety, and not
him from the

ome, who oui

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCaULET.

109

tell the feelings of Miss McAulcy when she saw that her prayers,
her solieitutlc, licr untirirg exertions in his behalf, were crowned
with such complete success, when she saw him, as a member of the
Church, receive the holy sacraments wit!i heartfelt devotion?"
Truly it was no wondt-r that she had such firm faitli in the efficacy
of prayer ; she had asked and obtained wonderful things of
God.

Catherine, in relating the history of Mr. Callahan's conversion,
used to give several touching instances of his deep appreciation of
the mercy God had done him in calling him to the truth. A few
necks before he died, he suddenly asked her why she had let Mrs.
Callahan die without making some cflfort to Instruct her ; ' /or you
know," said he, " that she was not even baptized." A bright light
had flashed on his own soul, and he longed to communicate some
portion of its lustre to her he had loved so well. How delighted
Catherine was to be able to inform him, that, for once, she had
brought a person to his house without his knowledge, and that per-
son was a Catholic priest.

" That, then," said he, " was the secret of her happiness," and
he listened with gratitude and delight to the particulars of her
conversion. He felt so grateful for the assiduous attentions of Dr.
Armstrong, that he offered him a large sum of money to mark his
appreciation of his kindness, but the holy man refused to accept
any remuneration ; and it was wiLh difficulty he was prevailed on
to receive a trifle for the poor : a disinterestedness which greatly
edified his penitent.

On the 11th of November, 1822, William Callahan, fortified by
the last sacraments, ot peace with God and man, and consoled mth
the hope of a blessed eternity, fell asleep in the Lord. His will
declared his adopted daughter, Catherine Callahan* McAuley, his
sole heiress. He left her absolute mistress of his wealth, without
even expressing a wish as to how it should be disposed of. " She

• V.'o irniy remark here tlint C'utlicrine never uscii the nntne Callahan except in
legiil bnsinosB coniieoteJ with this *ill. Neither ilij she use hor secoiiil b«p-
[isinul iiniiio, Elizabeth^ whiuli we learned from her ));od-clul<'. Her letters, be-
ibro her profession, were signed, " Catherine MoAuloy ; and after that eveat^
" Mnry Catherine MoAuUv."

ill

■Mi

110

LIFE OF CATHKBINE MCAULBT.

will do good with it," said ho to Father Armstrong • p.nd so she did ;
much more than either coiild anticipate.

There can scarcely be a higher encomium passed on her tlian
that implied in the fact, that a man like Mr. Calbhaii sliouki in-
trust her in so unlimited a manner with immense wealth. Not
every woman could bear this elevation as she bore it ; many who
have great virtues in adversity, or in a subordinate position, be-
come remarkable for the contrary vices in prosperity, or when
placed in authority.

''4w>Wi««!*11««*S*»4i?^%i«i5*'»««»**^^

tti^

so she did ;

an lier than
i shoulc! ia-
eallh. Not
; many who
position, bc-
ty, or wheQ

CHAPTER IX.

• CaUieiinc's fortmie.— Iler cliuritics.— Donth of licr only sister.— Dr. Williotim*
grid". — An •exciting scene. — Catherine'u midnight gortio. — The Buntinela.—
The reccnv ation. — Her hair bceomcs " gray, but not witli yeurg."

THIRTY thousand pounds in the Bank of Irtland, six hundred
a 'year in perpetuity, Coolock House with its appendages,
jewels, plate, etc., the exact value of which Catherine herself ncyer
ascertained, and several policies of life insurance, were the prin-
cipal items of Catherine's fortune. Riches did not, however, work
the least change in her ; or, rather, in her new positions, she
dressed more plainly than ever, was more assiduous in visiting the
sick, and more frequent in her attendance at church. She kept
perfectly quiet as to the exact amount of her wealth. Several old
debts, arrears of rent, und a few policies of hfe insurance, she
never claimed, for she was too kind-hearted to press those who"
were unable to pay, and she had a horror of going to law with
such as were unwilling. In this she showed uncommon prudence.
Had she made much noise about these debts, she had only involved
herself in expensive litigation, and perhaps risked the loss of her
whole property.

Henceforth there was no more merrymaking in Coolock House.
When Catherine became its mistress, she followed that sublime ad-
vice : " When thou makest a banquet, invite not thy friends and
neighbors, lest they, in their turn, invite thee, and thou receive thy
reward ; but call thither the poor, the blind, and the lame, and
thou shalt be happy, because they have not wherewith to repay
thee." She now devised a regular system of distributing food and
clothing ; and her god child, who is still living, tells us that these
were daily dispensed to the needy, at the 'House,' where she then
lived with her saintly god-mother, who tbas early sought to inspire
her with compassion for the poor.

f 3'!

■n S':l

g^-

112

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

In one of the miserable abodes of Liffey-street, Catherine dis-
covered an old woman, a Protestant of good family, who, in some
terrible domestic affliction, had completely lost her reason. She
brought her home and kept her till her death, five years later.
This poor idiot or innocent gave her much to suffer. With a per-
versity common in her disease, she conceived an absolute hatred
for her benefactress ; and her habits were such as to make her
somewhat troublesome in a household. Among other peculiarities
she had an inveterate dislike to soup and water applications, and a
custom of stealing, through mere wantonness, every thing she could
lay hands on. Im other respects she was harmless, and Catherine
humored her as much ,is possible, and would not permit Ihe ser-
vants to tease her, Si>e would not hear of sending her to a lu-
natic asylum, lest she might recover, and be shocked at not finding
herself among her friends. But the faintest gleam of reason
never returned.

For some time, Mary McAuley's health had been failing ; but
those who loved her refused to see the inroads of disease, though
the deadly fibres of cancer were stealthily spreading through her
delicate frame, and her lungs were being slowly coughed away.
Catherine, her constant nurse, perceiving ere long the hopelessness
of her condition, anxiously sought an opportunity of reminding
her of the faith of her fathers, which she had entirely renounced at
the nnptial altar. Fearing that this precious soul might otherwise
be lost, she requested a consulting physician, a friend of hers, to
prescribe change of air, which he did. But her husband would
not hear of this, because his professional duties would not admit of
his accompanying her, while her brother maintained :hat the benefit
she would gain must be neutralized by the fatigue of removing.
After some discussion, their objections were overruled by the in-
valid herself, who, buoyed up with the false hopes usually attendant
on her disease, insisted on giving herself a last chance of recovery.
A house was taken at Stillorgan, and thither the female part of
the McAuley famUy repaired, the doctors promising to rioe out
daily to visit them.

Though Mary was never bigoted, her affections, associations, and
prejudices were all Protestant. Too kind-hearted to share her

1^3?W'S9¥^!^BWTOife*3lSW(!!iflB8iSWSlP'"

:herine dis-
10, ID some
ason. She
fears later.
t^ith a per-
lute hatred
I make her
jcculiarities
:ioiis, and a
g she could
1 Catherine
lit Ihe ser-
icr to a la-
not finding
of reason

failing; but
;ase, though
through her
ghcd away,
hopelessness
f reminding
enounced at
it otherwise
I of hers, to
sband would
lot admit of
it the benefit
)f removing,
i by the in-
ly attendant

of recovery,
nale part of

to riae out

ciations, and
o share her

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

113

husband's bitterness, she not the less firmly clung to his persuasion.
She was exceedingly attached to him, and would not for worlds
displease him. In time, however, Catherine's prayers and instruc-
tions overcame all obstacles, and she had the inexpressible conso
lation of hearing ner beloved sister express her intention of return-
ing to the faith of her parents : " But," said she, " it must be done
without causing any disturbance in my family, for if William knew
it, he would cut off all communication between you and my chil-
dren." Catherine instructed her for her first confession and com-
munion, and brought to her Rev, Mr. McCormack, parish priest of
Dundrum, who administered to her the holy sacraments. She sur-
vived her reconciliation only three weeks. Before she died, she
told her sister that the thought that all her children were Pro-
testants sorely grieved her. Catherine promised to be a mother to
these children : "But," said she, "you had better acquaint Mary
Teresa with your secret, and instruct her to obey mo when you are
gone." This was the eldest, a beautiful, delicate girl of fifteen, who
was immediately called in.

" Mary Teresa,"' said the dying mother, " I want to speak to
you in the most solemn manner, before I go." The poor child hid
her face in the pillows, and wept passionately ; but the dying lady
almost eteruly bade her restrain her tears, and listen attentively
to her mother's last words. "I am dying," she continued, "and
cannot have many hours to live. You have ever been a dutiful
child ; you have never disobeyed me in any thing. I will intrust
yoa with a secret which you must not reveal till your Aunt gives
you permission. It is, that I die a child of the Holy Catholic
Church. I must leave you before I have time to instruct you, but
your Aunt will take my place ; obey her as you have obeyed me,
and teach your brothers and sisters to do the same. Be ever af-
fectionate and respectful to your fathef ; ht is a good father. Pray
for him, do all you can to please him ; but, should he require any
thing inco||sistent with your duty to God, your conscience will
teach you how to act." The afflicted girl having promised all that
was requu'ed, Mrs. McAuley continued : "It will make you happy
for life to know that you removed the only anxiety your dying
mother bad.'-'

* PI'

"^-'Mm^^^:^

^iSjflSgMISf?*'"

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

Next day, Mary McAuIey expired in the arms of her beloved
sister ; and deeply as tliat sister felt this terrible blow, she ex-
claimed in tiic midst of her anguish, "The Lord gave her, and He
has taken her away. Blessed forever be His adorable nanric I''
Years after, she wrote : " The tomb never seems to be closed in
my regard," and during her whole life, she could scarcely point to
any period in which she was not either mourning for some one just
gone, or assisting some other to die well ; but of all the dear
friends w!;ose eyes she closed, the dearest was this only sister.
Dr. William McAuley did not imitate the resignation of his sister-
in-law ; he seemed quite unable to control his grief. While his
gentle wife lay in silent loveliness before him, he could hardly be-
lieve she was indeed no more. That face, lovely in life, was heaven-
ly in death. That brow, on which frown never gathered, was open
and candid as ever ; but the dark, lustrous eye was closed, and
the tones of her gentle voice were hushed forever. To him she
had been every thing ; to his children a devoted mother ; he had
never noticed any thing like a fault in her ; and now, was she indeed
gone— would she return no more to brighten his home ? He knelt
by her precious remains, but it was long before his agony found
vent in tears. And when the scalding tears did gush from the
eyes of that strong, proud man, he might have exclaimed as did
Louis XIV. when he wept over his virtuous queen* : " Alas, these
are the first tears she ever caused me to shed I "

Catherine, concealing her own grief, vainly tried to console him :
his professional duties afforded little distraction, he became moody
and morose, so that his children feared and avoided him. He soon
perceived that their Aunt was already gaining a mother's place in
their affections : this made him almost jealous, and he grew so
cross and peevish that it was no agreeable thing to be his guest.
Catherine, who could not blame him for grieving over such a wife,
bore with unalterable sweetness the many unkind things he said in
his fretful moods. He had always something dreadfi^ to say of
the Papists. Catherine, in alluding to the events which followed
her sister's death, used to remark that she never in all her inter-

* Maria Teresa, Qf Spain.

*^i-

^wJ^'S^I^^MIW!! Ijt |IMM«f<i^A£^iSi£(^S(|j^^

mamM

ler beloved
)w, she ex-
ler, and He
jle name 1''
e closed in
,'ly point to
ime one just
11 the dear
only sister,
jf his sister-
While his
1 hardly be-
was hcaven-
;d, was opf^n
closed, and
To him she
lier ; he had
.s she indeed
? He knelt
agony found
sh from the
limed as did
Alas, these

onsole him :

came moody

He soon

■'s place in

le grew so

)e his guest.

such a wife,

<rs he said in

i^ to say of

ich followed

1 her inter-

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

115

course with Protestants met any one who could at all approacn her
brother-in-law in hatred of Catholicity. In him this seemed to be
inherent, not acquired ; a degree or two more added to its intensity,
and it would be madness.

One niglit, a few weeks after Mary's death, az the family were
assembled around tlie drawing-room fire, he < ornmenccd an unusu-
ally terrible onslaught on Catholic doctrines, which was but a very
lergelic repetition of the ordinary calumnies which five minutes'
reference to the child's catechism would prove to be the result of
ignorance or malice, on the part of those who utter them. Now
as the-se scenes were of far too frequent occurrence, considering
the presence of five children, Catherine felt that to remain silent
would be to impugn the known truth, and determined to show him
that if he persisted in introducing these topics, she would be under
the necessity of saying something calculated to counteract the bad
impressions such calumnies were capable of making on the tender
minds of the listeners.

" If you believe what you say, William," said she, " your igno-
rance of our creed is surprising ; and if you do not believe it or
cannot prove it, the case is no better."

" You do not know half the doings of thes" wicked priests,"
said ho ; " if you did, you would not stay an hour in their hatefol
communion."

" Whatever I know about my Church, William," said she, " yea
know nothing about it. Is it not unmanly and ungenerous to con-
demn without giving the accused any chance of defence 1 You are
not acquainted with a Catholic but myself, you have never read a
Catholic book, and yet you imagine you know more about our
creed than we do ourselves." -

The conversation grew warmer. " One thing," said he, " I wish
you to bear in mind ; it is this : that while I place implicit confi-
dence in your good sense and charity, I entirely disagree with you
en the subject of religion, and I warn you to beware of interfering
with the religion of my children."

" I have used no influence with them," she replied, but the legiti-
mate influence of example. If they choose to accompany me to

ii H-

l! W

uima

ii i #iM i| iim i >i . yiMif i aTf»ir-mW i mf^< . -Sij( i tyir<>Ji te i ij i i i«l»«

^■r

116

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

church, it is not my duty to prevent them. On the contrary, I
pray incessantly for their conversion and for yours."

He continued to repeat the oft-refuted cahimuies about " the
ignorance in which the Romisli Thureli strives to keep people," the
" corruption of the clerfry," the " vices of the Religious Orders,"
and it wts useless for Catherine to remind him that the govern-
ment, not the Catholic Church, was accountable for the ignorance
of so man^ in his poor country ; that Religious Orders approved
by the Church for the education of youth or some other work
glorious to God and useful to society, could not be what he
imagined ; and that if the clergy were so very corrupt, it was
strange that neither he nor his brother Orangemen, with all their
vigilance, could lay any thing definite to their charge.

Children arc good jjhysiognomists, better than shrewd men and
women, sometimes. Tlie Doctor's cliildren read rage in his coun-
tenance, and they nestled closely around their aunt. Rising up,
he fiercely exclaimed :

" You know well that Catholics are not what you would make
them out." And then havirg renewed his arguments as though
he would make np by amplification for what they wanted in
strength, he concluded thus :

" There was your own sister. Every one knows she was a true
Christian, yet she detested, slie abhorred, she loathed the vile sect
to which you cling in spite of all who love you."

"William," said she mildly, " pardon me, you are mistaken. My
sister was baptized a Catholic, our parents were Catholics, our
ancestors as well as yours were Catholics. Mary was ignorant
of our religion, but she never haled it. Asj/o?ir wife o..e could not
speak in its favor, but she was born a Catholic, William, and she
died a Calholic."

The Doctor's anger now amounted to frenzy, his face became
white, black, and purple, by turns, and passion produced a tem-
porary suspension of reason. Darting a terrible look at his now
frightened sister, he roared rather than spoke :

" Did you make Mary die a Papist T

Then, with horrible oaths, he added :

" You will never leave my houso alive."

•■vJ'^fv's;*?

contrary, I

about " the
people," the
3US Orders,"
the govern-
lie ignorance
3rs approved

other work
be what he
nipt, it was
rith all their

;wd men and

! in his coun-

Rising up,

would make
ts as though
jy wanted in

was a true
the vile sect

istakcn. My
atholics, our
vas ignorant
.0 could not
iam, and she

"ace became
need a tem-
at his now

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

117

As he rushed wildly from Catherine, she remembered with terror
that there was a keen, highly-polished dagger among the regalia he
was accustomed to wear at Orange processions, and if that were
not forthcoming, a scalpel would suffice. There was that in his oye
which showed that he could and would use it, though his life were the
price of his temerity. She fled with the utmost precijjitation, and
had scarcely done so, when he returned, sword unsheathed, and
sought her among the terrified, screaming children and servante.
After a fruitless search through tho house, he returned to the
drawing-room, still muttering dark threats of vengeance. His
favorite child had fainted, and her recovery was very slow. When
consciousness returned, she started up wildly, and exclaimed :

" Where is my aunt ? Papa, you have not murdered my aunt ?"

The Docto' whose rage was now beginning to subside, was thank-
ful that his sword was unstained with blood, and assuring the child
that she was srafe, begged that she would retire to rest.

" Never," cried the noble girl, " till you pledge me your word of
honor that you will not injure my aunt."

llie Doctor pledged his word, and Mary Teresa left him. Reason
was now slowly resum.ng its sway. He thought of his departed wife,
of her intense love for that only sister for whose blood ho had thirsted,
and from whom his family had experienced such unceasing kindness.
He thought of other things, too, and overpowered with conflicting
emotions, he knelt down and sobbed like a child. From that night
till the night of his death, he never broached the topic of religion.

Meanwhile Catherine, as soon as she recovered from her fright,
found herself running, she knew not whither, along the military
road, a district in which few ladies would venture even by day
without an escort, as it was constantly paraded by sentries and
retired oflBcers. Robed in a loose dressing-gown, her head uncov-
ered, her feet, which were greatly swollen from the fatigue of
nursing her dying sister, were protected from the inclemency of that
bleak midnight by loose slippers worn without stockings ; it is not
easy to conjecture how a lady with her iiigh notions of propriety
must have felt in such a predicament. Afterwards, she often
expressed her astonishment that she did not drop dead from mere
terror and fatigue. The martial tread of the soldier on duty waa

ill

i!-a

— .j^i. i )ri^ « -»if.» i i,i »i, -j » - ji i M rWi i :--;-W«lW||^

118

LITE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

the only sound that disturbed the solemn stillness, yet imagining
she heard tlie furious plivsiciaii's footsteps, slie rushed forward
heedless of couscriuences. The darkness of the nigiit a;id the
insultinfr language of strangers seemed less terrible than the vio-
lence of th« frenzied man from whom she fled. Tiie gate leading
to the city was closed, and when hailed with the Qui vive Id of the
sentiuel, she feared she should have to finish the night in a military
guard-house, to which indeed he offered to escort her. She told
him that her appearuncc on the road at such a time had been
caused by u passing domestic calamity, and asked him to allow her
to pass to the house of her friend, Surgeon Cusack, who lived hard
by. Awed by an iudescril)ablo something which enlisted his sympa-
thy, while appearances were so dubious, the rough l)Ht kind-hearted
veteran became her friend on the spot, and having conducted her
to the end of his patrol, shouted " holloa" to a distant brother in
arms, who answered in prson. *

«' See this lady safe to Surgeon Cusack," said the sentry, while
cautiously avoiding a breach of discipline, he moved not a step
beyond his " walk."

The newly arrived cast an ominous glance at the "lady," then
muttering something about obliging a comrade, he conducted her
to the steps of the Surgeon's mansion, and bowed himself off with
as many demonstrations of respect as if she were a queen.

After much ringing a servant appeared, but ho declared his lady
received no such visitors, and was with difficulty persuaded to call
the housekeeper, having first taken the precaution to close the
door in Catherine's face. The Surgeon happening to look out of a
window saw tht figure on the door-step, and judging that it was a
sick-call, came down with a light and admitted her to the hall. On
seeing Miss McAuley in such a plight, he uttered an exclamation
of fcurprist, and she, begging that the housekeeper would not dis-
turb Mrs. Cusack, asked to be allowed to lie down soiuewhcrc till
morning. The Surgeon, who was her intimate friend, was really
grieved for her, and she, out of consideration for her brotlier-in-law
would not make known the cause of her sortie.

In a few moments she lay, foot-sore and weary, on a cnrnfortahlo
couch, not to Bleep— sleep was impossible — but to pray for her

imogining
cd forward
it cad the
lian llic vio-
:atc leading
vc Id of the
n a military
•. She told
ic had been
to allow her

lived hard
id his sympa-
kind-hearted
:)nducted her
it brother in

sentry, while

1 not a step

"lady," then
onducted her
nsclf off with
leen.
lared his lady

laded to call

to close tbo
llook out of a

that it was a

Ithc hall. On

exclamation

ould not dis-

oiiiewhcre till
|d, was really

irotlier-in-law

comfortable
pray for her

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

119

beloved sister's husband and children, and her prayers were not
unheard.

It is superfluous to remark that she never forgot that fearful
night. Her fair hair grew hourly fairer, and if sorrow and terror
did not blanch it immediately, certain it is that ere many weeks
elapsed her hair " was gray, though not with years." Some por-
tions of it still jealously hoarded by those who regard themselves
fortunate in possessing auy thing pertaining to the foundress of the
Order of Mercy, are as white as the scanty locks of a centenarian,
though she was but fifty-four at the time of her death, and her
hau* had been of that shade of auburn which retains its hue to
very advanced years.

The Doctor, who discovered the place of her retreat, came in a
few days to ask her jiardon, " I was mad, that night, Kittie,"
said he, " forgive my violence ; I knew not what I was doing."

She frankly extended her hand, and from that moment each
esteemed the other more than ever. The remembrance of that noc-
inmal fray, with its antecedents and consequents, sufllced to keep
him humble and meek during the rest of his days ; for he knew well
that to have attempted a cowardly assault on the life of a helpless
female, and that in his own house, was an act too dastardly for any
amount of bigotry or bad temper to excuse in a gentleman, and
indeed he was thoroughly ashamed of his conduct.

* We have been asked aeveral times whether Dr. \V. Macauley wai related to
the family of Catherine. Ilewainot. Catherine met him for the firat time a
little before her iUter'i marriage with him in 1810.

TR B W

^^w.

CHAPTER X.

BoAnty everywhere. — Somctliing !ovcIy in every one.— Mary Teresa McAiil'.y.—
Sbo evinoes u desire to become a Catholis. — Her auDt's devotion to the
Blessed Sacrament. — The 3Iea Culpa.

TmS world is a world of beauty. Its mountains, its forests,
its glassy ocean, its limpid streams — these, fresh from the hand
of nature, speak to tiie heart of nature's God. From the sun's
disc oa tlie distant horizon to his meridian glory on which our fee-
ble eyes may not gaze, his course is one of splendor, and when he
softly sinks behind the western hills, does he not look more lovely
if less sublime? Every inhabitant of the dsep waters, the com-
pact earth, the balmy air — from the huge leviathan to the animal-
culn3 which the keenest eye unaided could not oiscover, every thing
speaks of the Divine hand that fashioned all. But among the
creatures which mother cartii sends from her teeming bosom, among
those which bosk in the sunshine on her velvet hills, or frisk joy-
ously in the pearly depths of her blue waters, there is uo beauty
like that of ti.e " human face divine," through whoso eyes an im-
morta! soul looks out on the material world, and in whoso every
lineament the invisible Creator becomes visible.

All things are made for man, but man, who is infinitely superior
to all else, is made for God ; hence faith can discover goodness and
beauty in the meanest of those rational creatures into whom the
Creator himself breathed tho breath of life. Seared and blackened
though their souls be, there aro still traces of that Divine Original
which the guilt of years cannot obliterate. As all metal, precious
or vile, is ennobled when stamped with tho image of the king, so
is mail in every estate noble, because his soul is impressed with tho
imago of the Deity.

The beautiful things of the material world faintly typify the bid-

«■

■csa McAnI'-y.— "
levotion co Ihe

is, its forests,
rrom the hand
torn the sun's
which our fce-
, and when ho
>k more lovely
;er8, the com-
to the animal-
cr, every thing
it among the
bosom, among
fl, or frisk joy-
! is «o beauty
30 eyes an im-
XI whose every

initely superior
r goodness and
into whom the
and blackened
Divine Original
metal, precious
of the king, so
rcssed with the

typify the hid-

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

121

den beauty of human souls destined to live as long as God shall bo
Oofl in an ther, and, if tliey choose, a brighter world. Tlio fair
lily reminds us of the spotless purity attained by those who serve
God under Mary's guidance ; and the radiant rose, of the charity
which loves all, and the good odor of Jesus which virtue never
fails to diffuse. 13y hill and dale, by stream and fountain, flowers
bloom when there are few to admire them, teaching those who
listen to their geutlc teachings, that as they bloom in loveliness far
from the foslering care of man, so in the crowded lanes of smoky
ci.iL's, in dense forests, in vast prairies — in situations most inimical to
the growth of virtue, there may be saints whose virtue is unknown
to tlie multitude that it may be the more highly prized by God.
Blades of grass force their way through the granite rock, and the
hard trunk of the unsightly milk-tree gives out its delicious bever-
age to the weary travelle • ; even so, those who possess ski'.i to
extract it, may find goodness in every human being, perfect or im-
perfect, sinless or sinful.

The finest musical instruments give out discordant sounds when
struck by mean performers, but let an adept in the bewitching art
sweep her fingers gracefully over the keys, and she can produce
whatever effect she pleases. Who has not seen the soldier's eyo
flash fire when the martial airs are gallautly struck up which cause
him to forget that he is going to make wives widows, and hap»>y
children orphans, that in the heat of the battle he may cut down
.. fond father's pride and the solace of a loving mother's declining
years ? Passions and feelings, often unsuspected by their owners,
lie dormant in human hearts like the untouched keys of a musical
instrument, and if they sometimes give forth sounds discordant or
unlovely, is it not perhaps that they have been struck by untutored
fingers ? The instrument is a good one, it was fashioned by a
divine Artificer.

There are some among our fellow-creatures whom we canno*
easily love because we will not study them ; in another life we may
learn the worth of many with whom it now seems almost painful
to hold daily intercourse. Others, again, fascinate us before we
are aware of it, by their beauty, talents, and amiability. Of the
latter class was Mary Teresa McAulcy. The innate beauty of a

122

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

guileless sonl was faiutly mirrored in her beanteons face. The rose
and the lily had struggled forlhe honor of resting on her fait cheek,
and though the lily became victor, the rose did not depart without
leaving a rich tinge of her loveliest hue ; her dark, brilliant eyes
flashed with a fiery yet dreamy beauty, her nose and mouth were
fit models for a Grecian sculptor. Whether by accident or design,
slie always appeared in the costume that best enhanced her charms,
and a glance at her might convince one, that the beauty attributed
to the last of the Scottish queens, was not all imaginary.

Horticulture, a delightful occupation for the leisure of high life,
was a favorite pastime with this beautiful girl. Indeed, it became
aimost a fashion since the time of the Princess Charlotte ;* and
would that every fashion originating at court were as harmless.
The life of Mary Teresa was typified in that of more than one of
her favorite plants. She was watched, and loved, and cultivated,
yet just as her beauty was at its height the stem bent, and the
flower drooped beneath the weight of its own loveliness.

When we drop the tiny seed in its narrow grave, wc feed it
abundantly, we tear up mercilessly every weed that presumes to
dispute ground with it. When the cherished flower begins to
appear, it must be sheltered from morning frost and noontide heat,
and at evening it holds up its dusty calyx, as if in supplication,
towards us. Notwithstanding all our contrivances, the frosit will
sometimes nip the bud, the heavy rain break the fragile stem, or
the careless foot of some one who does not appreciate its beauty
inadvertently press it to the earth. Are not the young and lovely
daily torn from our midst, though the most devoted care be lavishly
bestowed on them ? Are they not sometimes ruthlessly crushed by
such as cannot, or will not appreciate them ? How often do we
hear an afflicted mother say of her departed darling : " I did every
thing for her ; she was my joy, my treasure ; she was lovely, she was
good, and now she is snatched away, just as I begin to realize her
worth. After all, I reared her for nothing." And yet, fond mother.

* Dmitjliler of Gcorgo IV. nnd Carolino of Brunswick, heiress to tlio crown,
llcr ilontli, in 1817, threw Kiigland into consternntion. She wns excessively
fond of gardening. Few pri iccsses of tlie house of Brunswick have hit tMhind
« fuiror reputation.

ace. The rose
her fair cheek,
depart without
:, brilliant eyes
1(1 mouth were
dent or design,
jcd her charms,
luty attributed
nary.

ire of high life,
ieed, it became
harlotte ;* and
■e as harmless.
>rc than one of
and cultivated,
I bent, and the
iness.

ave, we feed it
at presumes to
3wer begins to
I noontide heat,
in supplication,
s, the frofit will

fragile stem, or
ciate its beauty
oung and lovely
care be lavishly
essly crushed by
ow often do we
" I did every
J lovely, she was

n to realize her
ret, fond mother,

ross to tlio crown.
wn» excessively
ik liavo leil iMliind

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

123

if yon reared h • well you did not rear her for nothing — she is not
lost, but gone before you — an early grave is a noble destiny, when
fillowed by a blessed eternity.

The short life of the beautiful and highly-gifted Mary Teresa
repaid even here the care lavished on her. A father's pride, a
mother's joy, the idol of all around her, she shone wherever she
appeared, like Venus among tlie stars, and if ever personal loveli-
ness were a sure index of loveliness hidden within, it was so in this
instance. Too good for companionship with mortul.s, she was soon
translated to a happier world. But we anticipate.

Feoole view exterior attractions with varied sentiments. To
some vhey give death. St. Syncletica, first Abbess in the church,
advised her daughters, when they met with beauty, to use the
thought of death as an antidote to the poison it might convey to
the soul.* And St. John Climacus mentions a holy man who could
not gaze on a beautiful face without shedding tears of devotion,
and being ravished in ecstasy, regarding its loveliness as a feeble
emanation of the transcendent beauty of the first and only Fair.
But we could never look on such loveliness, without shuddering
at the primeval curse which the creature's sin wrung from the angry
Creator ; and sighing to think, that that finely-wrought frame, that
exquisitely chiselled face, and those delicate hands, must furnish
food for worms before they can bloom immortal in heaven I

Mary Teresa early evinced a desire to become a Catholic. Her
aunt, out of devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, always washed
with her own hands the altar linens of the parish church. The
child, when a guest at Coolock, perceiving this, asked the reason
of it ; and though she could not very well understand it, she de-
lighted to be permitted to wait on her pious relative on those oc-
casions. One day, she was discovered secreting a little bottle of
ihc water in which the corporals, etc., had been washed ; and on
being questioned, she replied that she thought the water must bo
holy, and, therefore, wanted to keep some always. Her aunt, who
saw the Holy Spirit working in her tender mind, always gave her
whatever information she asked, but never pressed her on the sub*

* Vie de St«. S/ncl4tiqae, par St. AthknMa.

Ki:;

i ■

»»;iL

!ia»

124

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

ject of religion. She was delighted to have her sister's children
visit her, but she was careful to let all her relatives know thnt tlicy
must not oxpi'ct to be enriuhed by her wealth ; that she uiadc over
entirely to tlie poor. Mary Teresa's chief delights were to ac-
company her to church, and to learn Catholic prayers. When quite
a child, she used to watch her aunt at prayer ; once she noticed
her saying the Confiteor ; directly she wanted to learn it. " What
prayer do you wish to learn, my child ?" said Miss McAuley. " The
thumping prayer, dear aunt," said the little one. The striking the
breast at the mea culpa quite struck her fancy. In 1821, she en-
treated to be prepared for baptism ; and, on the Feast of St. Ce-
cilia, 1828, at the age of seventeen, she received that sacrament
from the Archbishop, who kindly oflfered to receive her abjuration
himself. This took place in the little chapel of the future convent
in Baggot-strcct.

tcr's c'lildrcn
low thi'.t they
he made over
• were to ac-
When quite
e she noticed
rnit. "What
Auley. "The
le striking the
1827, she en-
ist of St. Ce-
liat sacrament
her abjuration
future content

CnAPTER XI.

Projects of the FoundrcRs, — First utono of Basjfot-strect Ilouso Inid.— V. B.
Dr. Blnkc's prcucntinicnt. — IIo U summoned to Rome to restore the Irish
C«llc(ie. — Miss Funny Tialie. — Miss Mc.\uley'» arcliitects build n Convent. —
Very Ecv. Dr. Armstrong's illricis and dcntli. — Mr. CiillalmM's will con-
tested. — The Institution opei J. — Action and contemplation. — Extracts
from Ven. Archdeacon O'Brien.

WHEN Catherine became an heiress, she felt that God required
her to do something permanent for the poor. She was now
able to realize her early visions by founding an institution in which
servants, and other women of good character, might, when out of
work, find a temporary home, and be shielded from the dangers to
which indigence exposes so many of their sex. Very Rev. Dr.
Armstrong and Very Rev. Dr, Blake were her spiritual advisers,
and in their wiiidom, charity, and zeal she placed implicit confi-
dftice. Having deliberated on what she laid before them, they de-
cided on procuring a site in a respectable part of the city, on which
a house suited for what she proposed, might be erected.* Tiiey
remarked that it had been too much the custom to build Catholic
institutions in alleys and by-ways, and suggested that the house
in contemplation should be the first to emerge from the localities to
which centuries of persecution had driven every thing Cutiiolic ;
adding, that an establishment for the relief of the poor ought to
be iu the vicinity of the wealthy, who, when they saw it working,

* " It Wfts deemed ndvisalile," siys Denn Murphy, speukini? of tho projocts
of the Foundress, " to lake, not n house iilrciuly built iind occupied lor cither
purpo.«os, iiiid which slie would have souiu difficnhy in Hdiiptiiiir to her own
purposes, but a phit of (trouiid that never liad boon built upon, mid to erect for
the honor and glory of Goil an edirtce that had never been profaned by tlia
vices and follies of fashionable life, or sullied by any insult to the Catholic re-
ligion, anu wliiuh should ho holy iu its creation as in its use, and dediostod to
God from ii.'^ very foundation."

^ r\

I;:,;

!S;i..

iiUii

126

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAUIET.

would sustain it. In any case, it could not fail of reminding them
of the precept of almsnfiviiig.

Dr. IJlakc fi.xed on tlie frround at the junction of lower Baggot-
Btreet and Ilerhert-strcet, a fasliiDnable quarter whicii combined
tlie advantajie.s of sinii-niral situation witli pro.vimity to tlie town.
Riglit lion. Sidney Herbert, tiie landlord, and his agent, Mr. Ver-
secoyle, were very iiiqui.sitive as to what a maiden lady could want
with ground sutticient for four houses the size of those already
built, and four gardens larger still. They '>oped " nothing char-
itable was going to be got up, nothing calculated to injure the
locality by bringing the poor about the place." After much nego-
tiation, the ground was purchased for the large sum of five thou-
sand pounds, subject, also, to an annual rent of si.xty pounds,
Miss McAuley promising she would have nothing carried on in the
house about to be erected bat what was good and respectable.
Early in July, 1824, the first stone was bles.sed and laid by Very
Bcv. Dr. Blake ; but just as the building was commenced, he was
called to Rome to restore the Irish College, which had been sup-
pressed during the French occupation of the Eternal City.

Tuis learned and pious priest felt a presentiment, if not a pro-
phetic certainty, that the usefulness of the establishment about to
be formed would not expire with the originator. Conversing witti
the holy Pope Leo XII. on the state of religion in Irelaud, he in-
formefi him of ihe efforts nude ii' behalf of the poor by a wealthy
lady in Dublin, who, he said, "seemed specially raised up by God
to accomplish some great work in the Church, and whose zeal for
the conversion of Protestants and bad Catholics had already been
signally blessed." This information was joyfully received by the
Father of Christendom, and perhaps prepared the way for the
prompt sanction given to Archbishop Murray by the Holy See, a
little later, for the cstablislimeut of a new religious institute in his
episcopal city.

As the house approached completion, Catherine lost the three
persons from whom she expected most assistance. The only Cath-
olic acquaintance she had whom she would choose for a com-
panion in the work she designed to accomplish, was Miss Fanny
Tighe, a lady of piety and talent, who was greatly devoted to tli«

MH>

"V -^i|>ii ' ,i_|iii>inir.,ii 11

Tiinding them

)wcr Baggot-
icii combined
to tlie town.
:!nt, Mr. Ver-
y could want
those already
lotlilng char-
to injure the
;r much ncgo-
of five thou-
sixty pounds,
ried on in the
1 respectable,
laid by Very
cnced, he was
tiad been sup-
City.

, if not a pro-
nent about to
)nversing witti
[relaud, he in-
by a wealthy
?d np by God
vhose zeal for
. already been
reived by the
way for the
e Holy See, a
institute iu his

lost the tbreo
Dhc only Cath-
sc for a com-
s Miss Fanny
leroted to tli9

LIFE OF CATHERINE M^^AULEY.

127

poor. Not knowing exactly what her friend intended, Miss TIghe
manifested a desire of joining some order specially devoted to the
poor, as the Presentation. Catherine, to whom she applied for
couusel, felt this very deeply, but jvith her characteristic nobility of
soul, would not say a word to dissuade her, or even give her a word
of advice beyond recommending her to pray to know God's will,
and to rely implicitly on the decision of her confessor. " If yoa
stay with me, I shall be grateful," said hhc, " but if God wants
you elsewhere, you must follow His call." 'N^'hcu Miss Fanny be-
came a Presentation nun, there was no diminution of friendship
between these two sonls, knit together iu God. ^er richer friend
even aided her to fulfil her vocation, by relieving her of some pe-
cuniary embarrassment. Catheriai went to Galway to be present
at Miss Tighe's reception, and took with her her god-child Teresa,
that a pious impression might be made on her young mind by that
imposing ceremony.

Si-xtcen years later, the two friends met again. Meantime the
one had lived a quiet, useful life in the ancient " City of the Tribes,"
and the other had borne crosses that might have crushed many a
strong heart, and had laid in the grave almost all she loved. She
was a little disappointed to find that years had dealt somewhat
roughly with Miss Fanny, as may be gathered from the following
passage : " We passed one day at the Presentation Convent with
my dear friend, Sister TiOuise Tighc.* She is all affection, but
changed from a fine young woman of twenty-six to a middle-aged
woman of forty. It seemed so short a period since last I saw her
that I looked anxiously for my dear Fanny, when to my surprise a
new figure, with a new face, ran forward to meet me. Alas, how
many loved faces have vanished from my poor sight in life and
death, since she left me !"

After Dr. Blake's departure. Dr. Edward Armstrong was the
only person to whom Catherine confided her plans, and in him she

• Mother Louise Tiglio flill liven (1866). Lonsrcvity is tlie riilo rntlior than
the exception in the inclosed convents of Ireland. A few facts recorded in this
woric were supplied by lier; and We li"re gratefully acicnowledge her kindnesfi.
The meeting nbo.e alluded to, tool: place in May, 1840, when Mother MoAuley
went to Galway to found a Convent of Mercy.

^^mfmimm

123

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

found a true friend, from wliose good sense, zeal, and experience,
she expotted the new establishment to take its form. Perhaps she
relied too much on this valued spiritual guide, and God, to show-
that he could accomplish his will by any instruments He chose,
deprived her of his counsel and sympathy just when they appeared
indispensable. The new house was almost finished. To the
architects who had come for instructions, she gave in her concise
style the following items of what she required :

1. Very large rooms for poor schools, three or four.

2. Large dormitories for distressed young women, four.

3. One room loftier than the others, which might suit for an
oratory.

4. A few small rooms, for any ladies that might wish to aid in
taking care of the poor.

They planned a very spacious but plain building, the mere shell
of which cost four thousand pounds. As it progressed it attracted
much attention, but neither workmen nor contractors could answer
the questions frequently put to them as to the precise object of its
erection. Some were charitable enough to conclude that Miss
McAuley, having lately come into the possession of great wealth,
did not know what to do with it ; her brother himself, who used
sometimes to go to look at the strange concern, " considered " the
whole thing " a wasteful expenditure," but he made no comment ia
Catherine's hearing, nor did he ask what her views were, as he saw
she did not wish to reveal her projects.

When the plans for working the new institute were well
matured. Dr. Armstrong fell sick, and his sickness was unto death.
The new house being finished, Catherine was surprised and even
amused to find that her architects had built a convent I Cells and
corridors in profusion, and even the room she designed for an ora-
tory separated from the parlor by a grate I Her dying friend
manifested no surprise at this, bat remarked in his quiet, impressive
manner : " We did not anticipate this, but God has his own designs
in it." She continu',d to watch over this dear director, using for
his recovery every means that affection and veneration could sug-
gest ; but all in vain. Feeling that his life might now be counted
by moments, he sent for the archbishop, whose confessor he had

i experience,
Perhaps she
od, to show
its He chose,
lioy appeared
;d. To the
u her concise

four.

it snit for an

rish to aid in

the mere shell
d it attracted
could answer
2 object of its
do that Miss
great wealth,
elf, who used
nsidered" the
comment in
ere, as he saw

were well
IS unto death,
sed and even
Cells and
ed for an ora-
dyiiig friend
let, impressive
is own designs
;tor, using for
ion could sug-
)w be counted
fessor he had

LirE OP CATHERINE MOAULET.

129

beco for years, and recommended to his grace with peculiar earnest-
ness " his saintly penitent." " My lord," said he, " I have known
this lady for many years, I hare seen noble iiisto'.ces of her char-
ity and zeal, and for a long time I iiave felt a convittion, which I
have been unable to shake off, that Catherine McAuley is destined
to accomplish some great work for the glory of God and the good
of the poor." It is scarcely necessary to add, that the zealous
prelate gratified the dying priest by promising that his aid would
not be wanting to the development of her charitable plans.

When Catherine saw that she was really about to lose her holy
director, keenly as she felt the trial, she blessed the will of God,
adorable though inscrutable in its decrees. She petitioned him to
name some priest to whom she might recur for counsel and support
when he should be no more, but he did not comply with her request.

The day before his death, Rev. Mr. W , a clergyman of much

talent and influence, visited him, and as Miss McAuley had previ-
ously observec' that this priest had ability to do much for the glory
of God, she asked her dying friend whether she might safely con-
fide in him. He mused a few moments, and then answered \ery
solemnly : " I do not think so." Surprised at this reply, she at
once acquiesced in his decision. Next morning he renewed the
subject, and repeated, almost with his last breath :

"Place no trust in any man : let God alone be your hope. He
will proioct and assist yor/'

Very Rev. Ed\vard Armstrong departed to our Lord on Ascen-
sion Day, 1826. His last act before he fell sick, was to furnish a
dormitory in the new house, for poor women, on which occasion he
gave fifty pounds towards their support. Although pastor of a
rich parish,* he followed to the letter that counsel of St. Patrick,
that " the lamp should take only the oil it consumes." He made
no will, for he had nothing to bequeath. Mother McAuley always
spoke of him with gratitude and veneration, and well might she
revere his memory, for she met with few such. Later on, when she
experienced the most violent opposition, she had reason to remem-
ber her early director. He had given her a very beautiful " Cal-

* $t. Micban'8, Anne-streat.
6»

i i^rt; .' ?ljrr'^r

^fife*

|^?»|?J^^i j' g* ;i^.; ^i^jy^;.^^

.ij ' i HH l gll

■ygf^gr i ' »■ ■ » ! ..

130

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

vary" which he brought from P'rance. Before this she often
rcnuiiiicd kir'ciinjr for hour?, and when the Sisters were obllp;ed by
6oi;ic business to interru|)t her, t!icy usually found Iier in t?ors.

Had she conununicated her |)rojects to Rev. Mr. W , the In-
stitute had been nipped iu the bud. Ho became tlic most violent
opponent of every good work she originated ; i)ut of this here-
after. Her next director was Rev. Josejjh Nugent, who had suc-
ceeded Dr. Blake in the Parish of SS. Michael and John, a very
pious and higlily-giftcd clergyman. About this time Mr. Calla-
han's will was contested on plea of insanity in the testator, but it
did not require much legal acumen to disprove this. As the will
was made before the Emancipation, it could bo contested on
stronger grounds, had it been publicly known tkat he died a Cath-
olic ; and as ^Mr. Ciillahan's valet and cook were in this secret as
witnesses, the heiress naturally felt some apprehensions. In this
emergency she was singularly indebted to Father Nugent ; but he
had no sooner assisted her through it, than he was seized with
typhus fever. After fifteen days' illness, during which she scarcely
ever left him, he died the death of the just. Well might she say :
" I am so familiarized with death that the tomb seems never to be
closed in my regard."

As her time in future would be spent chiefly in Baggot-street,
and as she was at present obliged to reside a great deal in her sis-
ter's family, she determined to relinquish her establishment at Coo-
lock. She therefore sold Coolock,* with the library, pictures, and
as much of the furniture as she considered unsuitable for the insti-
tution she contemplated. Her equipage she reserved till a later
perijd.

She continually revolved in her mind how she could best work
the new establishment. Those on whose counsel she had relied,
perhaps too mucii, wero taken from her, and she scarcely had a
Catholic friend. The words of her dying director often rung in
her ears, ainl those who had the privilege of intimacy with her in
alter-lil'e, well knew that his instruction hnd not been lost, for she
poi- eased the beautiful virtue of confidence in Qod in a very emi-
nent, or rather heroic degree.

Besides protecting distressed women, and establishing schools,

* <^99l9t^l( U9UI9 >»tin »Undt, ftnd roUius lu old apnollutinn.

Xmmt

is she often
re oblip:ecl by
in t? ars.

, the In-

! most violent
of this liere-
who had sue-
John, a very
ac Mr. Calla-
jstator, but it
As the will
contested on
3 died a Cath-
this secret as
ions. In this
jgent ; but he
IS 6ei?ed with
:h she scarcely
night she say :
US never to be

Baggot-street,
deal in her sis-
ihment at Coo-
r, pictures, and
le for the insti-
ircd till a later

juld best work
3he had relied,
scarcely had a
■ often rung ia
acy with her in
een lost, for she
in a very cmi-

lishing schools,
ip\)lltttinn.

p^^;j^i.^.«_

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET,

181

she also designed to endow an Orphan Asylum. Indeed, she had
some orphans under her care already. One day, visiting the sick
in a lane off Liffcy-street, she saw a poor little child, whose parents
had just died of some epidemic, put out of tlicir cellar, the proprie-
tor having arranged to rent it to others. Tlie poor infant looked
up and down the lane, as if for some friend, but no one recognizing
her, she at length sat down and began to cry. It was a sad sight.
Miss McAuley, mingling her tears with those of the weeping child,
picked her up and carried her home ; and good came out of evil,
for had not that orphan been so cruelly treated, many another had
wanted a home.

But whom could the projector of so many holy enterprises place
at the head of the important institution she designed? For the
present, her own residence there could be only jccasional, but God
soon sent her what she prayed for. A young lady, Miss Anna
Maria Boyle, sister to Father Nugent's successor at SS. Miciiael
and John's, happening to see the new building, requested permis-
sion to go through it. As no one on the premises could give her
any information respecting its objects, she determined to procure
an introduction to Miss McAuley, and on hearing her cxplanatio!.,
she felt strongly attracted to become her associate in tla good
works she contemplated. The Foundress received this first acces-
sion with gratitude and delight, and believed Miss Doyle sent by
Ilenren. On the Feast of our Lady of Mercy, September 24,
182T, the institution was opened for destitute women, orphans, and
poor schools. Miss Doyle resided there entirely. Miss McAuley
occasionally, and a young lady. Miss Catherine Byrne, assisted
efficiently in the schools. Not one of those concerned ever
dreamt of founding a Religious Institute. On the contrary, Miss
McAuIey's plan was to establish a sort of Society of secular ladies,
who, between the period of leaving school and settling in life,
might, without inconvenience to their families, speru a few hours
daily in instructing the poor, etc. Yet twcnt" years later, and
the sun does not set on the Order of Mercy then originated.

Catherine's life so far scema so active as to exclude loisurn for
prayer, yet she daily spent hours in that holy cxercifie. Perhaps
tho mi^^ority of the saints have united action to contemplation.

liJUUI-i'iTI,—

133

LIFE OF CATHERIKK MCAULKY.

When wc look at the external works of St. Tciesa, iier founda-
tions, her ascetic works, her letters, her visits to the sick, oi't of
her convent, we hardly know where to look fur the greatest con-
templative of niodurn times. It is much the same \vith others.
Hear St. Bernard complaining that his business scarcely left him
half an hour for the repose of contemplation. " There are, how-
ever, those so absorbed in the Divine life that they seem to think,
speak, and act under motives, views, and aflfectious simply super-
natural. On the other hand, there are those, and of the very
highest order of sanctity, too, so far as our eyes can see, in whom
the supernatural coml)ines with nature instead of superseding it —
invigorating, elevating, and ennobling it ; who aro not the less
men because they are saints. They do not put away their natural
endowments, they use them for the glory of the Giver ; they do
not eclipse tiiem by t'>e brightness of Divine grace, but only trans-
figure them. They U/'e busy in human society, they understand the
human heart, they can throw themselves into the minds of others.
Wlule they themselves stand secure in the blessedness of purity and
peace, they can follow in imagination the ten thousand aberrations
of pride, passion, and remorse. The world is to them a book
which they read fluently, which interests them naturally, though
by reason of grace which dwells in them, they study it and hold
converse with it, only for the glory of God and the salvation of
souls. Thus they have the thoughts, sympathies, feelings, attrac-
tions, antipathies of others, so far as these are not sinful, only tliey
hove these properties of human nature purified, sanctified, and ex-
alted."* Of the latter class was Catherine McAuley.

"But before all things have charity :" this was her motto. la
every liuman being she recognizr ! (- -Vs image, and she loved all His
images for the sake of the 1 ;> . 'f'iginal. When a little child,
she pleaded lovingly for tiic po '. .*> rhe sat on her father's knee ;
later on, she offers to undergo the ]>uniohincnt awarded to her sis-
ter's childish errors, and weeps at tlie very tlionght of the physical
pain inflicted on her idle brother. Now she piteousiy bewails tho
fate of the poor girls she had made such efforts to rescue ; again she

* Dt, Newiimii. Hormuii on the Coi)V«r«lon of St. Pitul.

lieri'T

LIFE OP CATHARINE JJCaULET.

133

her founda-
iick, out of
;real«-St con-
ivith others.
!ely left him
ire arc, liow-
cm to think,
dimply sapor-
of the very
sec, in \\hom
erscding it —
not the less
their natural
vcr ; they do
ut only Irans-
nderstand the
ads of others.
3 of purity and
id aberrations
them a book
urally, though
y it and hold
salvation of
jeliiigs, attrac-
iful, only they
itificd, and cx-

er motto. In
c loved all His
ft little child,
I'lUhcr's knee ;
led to her sis-
tho physical
sly bewails the
icue ; again she

Tuul.

devotes herseir to almost complete solitude to nurse her dying
friends. Slie would rather endure annoyance and iiicoiivciiicncc
for five years, than run tlie risk of wounding tiie feelings of a poor
siiiipleton. She now devotes her wealth, iier exertions, her life, to
the alleviation of human misery, for slie knows that in making peo-
ple linppy she makes tiiem gooil. ller gifts were amplified in value
by the grace with which she bestowed them ; t-he was the obliged
"party, not those who afforded her an opportunity of doing good.
Her words were spoken with a winning sweetness which was *
delicious music in tlio cars of tlie unfortunate, and she wished to
spend herself and be spent in the service of tlie poor. In appear-
ance, talents, and accomplishments, in dignity of bearing, in fascina^
tlon of manner, in that beautiful suavity whicli makes every feature
eloquent, Catherine was greatly superior to the average of her sex ;
but all her gifts, natural and supernatural, were used for the glory
of the Giver. To us she seems like a magnificent edifice, perfect
in its proportions and complete in its details, whose appearance is
easily described, but whose windows are rarely opened to those will)
would gladly gaze on the treasures within. To her charity every
page of this work tcftifies ; to her mortification, the discipline, wet
with her blood, laid aside only the day before her death, bears wit-
ness ; and what could be more eloquent of the abnegation, the
unselfishness of her beautiful character, than the only complaint
the deiith-cough wrung from her : " I have grown very trouble-
some ; I cough all night, and .so disturb the poor Sisters."

In his Introduction to a Memoir of the Foundress, the Venerable
Archdeacon O'Brien says :

"The whole character of St. Malachy, as stated by St. Bernard,
was so like that of Catherine McAulcy, that we may with much
propriety insert it here.

" ' For, to be silent aiwut his inner man, the beauty, fortitude,
and purity of which were sufficiently shown by his manners and
life, he governed his exterior always in- one and the same w.iy, and
that most modest and l)econiing, so that notliing whatever appeared
in him which could offend the beholders. * * * jj,|t, jn ^-xl.
achy, what man ever watching him very norrowly, could perceive,
I will not say an idle word, but even an idle gesture 7 When was

...l; :

mmmM

134

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

he ever seen to move Land or foot without a purpose ? When
was anglit discdifying seen in his gait, his aspect, his manner, his
countenance ? Every thing in him was under discipline ; every-
thing was the very criteriiu of virtue, the very form of perfec-
tion.'

"The events of her life are like the lapiduli of a grand mosaic :
each of them is a small thing, but tlic combination of them makes
such a picture as rivals the glory of the pencil, and makes the
cold stone breathe like the canvas of Ilaphael. Every event
was ordinary, but the convergency of »il was little less than
miraculous."

Elsewhere, having quoted from the process of St. Teresa's
canonization. Dr. O'Brien says : " The facts which the Sacred
Congregation of tiie Rota describes as evidence of the heroic vir-
tue of St. Teresa come out in those of Mother McAuley's life with
a facility which niukes the language of the Rota only like a de-
duction from the pages now given to the public."
• If you saw her for a single day visiting the sick, consoling tho
nfiBicted, advising the rich, and qjilisting their co-operation in her
plans for the relief of the poor, you might say : Surely such a one
can have little time for prayer, or even for rest. But if you en-
joyed the still greater privilege of intimate acquaintance with her,
you might wonder how one gifted with so eminent a spirit of prayer
should ever leave the sweet repose of contemplation. But in
prayer or action, the imitation of Jesus Christ was her sole aim.
He visited the sick, and wrought miracles for their relief ; she, too,
will relieve them. lie blessed and caressed little children ; and for,
Ilis sake she will suffer them to come tu her. Oh, how she loved
these little ones, how she labored to preserve iu them the lovely
grace of baptismal innocence I Fall flowers are very beautiful,
but they have little or no perfume. Not so the fragrant violets
and primroses of the merry spring-time. Tho sinner must say, " I
have gone astray like a sheep that was lost ; Lord, seek Thy ser-
vant !" and it is well if he can add : " because in oil my wande^
ings I have never forgotten Thy commandments." But innocence,
in the abashed confidence of its simplicity, may boldly look up to
God and soy, " Trcservc me, for I am holy." Beautiful was the

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEr.

135

i mt

)se ? When

manner, hia

iline ; cvery-

m of perfec-

•and mosaic ;
them makes
id makes the
Every event
:le less than

St. Teresa's
1 the Sacred
:he heroic vir-
iley'8 life with
nly like a de-
consoling the
oration in her
ely such a one
5ut if you en-
ance with her,
ipirit of prayer
ition. But in

her sole aim.
;licf ; she, too,
Idrcn ; and for,
how she loved
;m the lovely
very beautiful,
Vagrant violets
ir must say, " I
, seek Thy ser-
all my wander-
But innocence,
Idly look up to
uutiful was the

charity which inspired her to labor in striving to preserve unsullied
in her little ones the virgin robe of baptism.

The spirit of charity with which she was so eminently endowed
was kept alive by i)rayer, frequentation of the sacraments, and
spiritual reading. Intercessory prayer and pious conversation were
her favorite weapons. " Speak to God about man ; speak to man
about God ;" this was her practice.

CHAPTER XII.

Slotlicr ilcAiilcy's associates nssmne a dif^tiiiclivo ilreBS.— Ilor rclntives nrgii
hiT to innrry. — Mnjor W.'s ooiiotiiiicy. — A Bccnc— An nmii.siiig iiiuidciit. —
Miiry Tcrosii not allowed tn nsaocinto wiUi lier luiiit,— Tlio C'aptiiiii's theology. —
His leccllcotions of Wutuiloo.— Seventy iiiij tiiiKliicss. — Intolerance on the
decrouse. — Dr. William McAuley's death. — A seena between the guiiriliuns of
liir children.

" From thy burning Iicart'it rocesses
Brightly bonmcd its flame around,
Not a tlbru in it trembled
To no earthly, soliish Bound.

" Meek and gentle was thy bearing,
Sweetness from thy lips distilled,
And the peace of heaven rested
Where tliy hand a sorrow healed.

'* Love of God, and lovo fraternal,
Mingled in thy gentle breast,
From their sweetness sprang the Ordbb
In whose loving arms we rest."

WE have already stated that Catherine had not the remotest
idea of fouiKliii}>; a religious institute. It was her design
that her associates should be scculivr ladies, willing to devote their
leisure to the poor, and at perfect liberty to withdraw when they
pleased. " Yet," says one of her early associates, " God so directed
her mind and actions, tiiat a convent became a kind of necessity.
Gradually the interior life took the perfect shape to which it has
tended for ages, and the external occupations and relations began
to harmonize with it in such a manner, tliat all things became too
like monastic life to be permitted iniless under monastic rule ; and
hcnco monastic rule came at lust, in God's own time and manner."
The house was already built and furnisiied in conventual style.
When the ludies who assisted her began playfully to call each other

■Tirniti iti irxj .i fir T..T '— V. "TjigSiaBfc-^:

LIFE OF CATHESINE MCAULEY.

137

relatives urg(i
wg iiiciJciit. —
ii's ihi'oloify.—
eraiice on the

IC gUHr''.ittll8 of

the remotest
as her design
devote their
nv when they
od so directed
of necessity,
which it has
jlations began
rs became too
tic rule ; and
and manner."
iventu.d style.
;all each other

" Sister ;" when they naturally, as it were, commenced to dress in
a style grave as their occupations ; when, for convenience' salfc, they
took a spare moal on the premises, and often refused to return to
their luxurious homes after the labors of the day, — then tlic Foun-
dress saw timt a higher mind than hers had planned an institulo
different from what she contemplated. However, she prayed on,
continuing to take the will of God as it came, without desiring to
see further.

Her relations soon perceived that Baggot-street House was
chiefly occupied by persons whom they could not consider as visitors.
Previously tliey had been satisfied with her determination to lead
a single life — perhaps they interpreted her resolution as a probable
reversion of her property to tiiem — but now that her charities were
conducted on a scale that would ultimately exhaust the wealth of

a Rothscliild, they eagerly pressed her to marry. Major W ,

of Belleviie, had never given up the hope of obtaining her hand ;
and, as he feared to speak for himself after so many refusals, her
brother undertook to plead his cause, but not succeeding, he re-
proached her with being foolish for rejecting an offer that would
make her mistress of Bellevue Hou-ic.

" I quitted a nicer house than that, James," said she, with a
smile. "Yes," he retorted, "you would rather build this great
stnpid-lookhig concern, and support the most worthless people in
the city. What has become of your good sense ? Those who
love you are grieved, aud ashamed of you ; those who don't know
you arc laughing at you. Give up these nonsensical whims, and
live as every lady does. A waim welcome still awaits you at
Bellevue."

" Awaits me, or my fortune ?" innocently queried the heiress.

" He does not want your fortune, but yourself," said the Doctor ;
but his sister smiled Incredulously.

" At all events, my dear James," said she, " do not bring rao
such proposals again. Nothing could induce nie to withdraw the
first free-offering I made of my virginity to Gotl. I nm sorry to
be obliged to act in a manner that pains you, but when we know
we cannot agree on certain subjects, we ought to avoid them."

The iiaysician muttered something about obstinacy, not at all

-;J3a

-i i ii>nf' -"l-T-H i ■ ■ M |*7iw»"- ■

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

complimentary to his gentle sister. The Major, who knew more
about taking a city than pressing a suit, suggested other plaus of
attack, but he was at Inst obliged to declare that the fortress was
impregnable.

James McAuley was always on the defensive in his sister's pres-
ence, especially if religious topics were introduced. On all other
occasions gcatlcmaniy and dignified, he would, in these con-
junctures, assume a roughness that surprised those who knew him
well. The shadow his fine martial figarc cast in Baggot-street,
always portended a storm. The sweetness of his temper was not
at all improved by the fact, that small-pox had just robbed him of
the beauty for which every member of his family was conspicuous.
He had such an opinion of his sister's persuasive powers that he
feared to discuss any thing calmly with her ; he knew she was the
better logician, and he felt he was gone if he yielded ever so little.
Sometimes he would call to exhibit his fashionable young wife in
superb evening costume, to Catherine and her associates — deter-
mined that if they would not go out to see the world, he would
bring as much of the world as he could in to them. " Leave her
here, James," his sister would say archly, "she will be much
fresher in the morning than she would be after the fatigue of a
Castle ball." But James, who knew better than to run such a
risk, would frankly confess that he would not trust Eleanor in her
company for the world.

In 1828, Mary Teresa McAuley manifested a dangerous tendency
to consumption, to counteract which her father and uncle used all
their skill. Knowing that gentle exercise, change of air and scene,
and above all, habitual cheerfulness, are of more importance in pul-
monary complaints than the whole pharmacopoeia, they permitted
the young lady to go where she pleased, though they objected to
her remaining long within the sphere of her aunt's influence. Yet
Baggot-street agreed better with her than the military road ; her
aunt's care never failed to restore the bloom to her cheek. And
Mother McAuloy, anxious to prevent bad influence on her sister's
children, if she could not procure them good influence, used still
to t;pend as much time as she possibly could at her brother-in-law's
house. This was a necessary precaution, for Dr. William, whose

W«M^

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

189

knew more
ler plains of
fortress vras

sister's pres-
3n all otbcr
, these con-
10 knew him
laggot-street,
Qper was not
obbed him of
1 conspicuous.
)wcrs that he
r she was the
ever so little,
young wife in
ciates — deter-
arld, he would
" Leave her
(vill be much
I fatigue of a
run such a
Eleanor in her

erous tendency
uncle used all
air and scene,
ortftncc in pul-
Lhcy permitted
ey objected to
uflucuce. Yet
ary road ; her
r cheek. And
! on her sister's
cncc, used still
jrother-in-law'a
VlUiara, whose

motto was, " Any thing but Romanism," u.=eJ to allow every ranting
preacher that came that way free access to his children. One of Ids

most frequent guests, a certain Captain D , who had great

influence over liiiii, and a general invitation to his house, feared
Miss McAiil 'y as an emissary of the Holy See, and had vague
notions that she had received some secret commission to plan and
executo thin- s of dreadful import to the Church by law established.
lie determined that the children should not suffer from the con-
tagion of hcT example, as their mother had. He had taken up
" views" on justification by faith alone, which he pushed very far,
not farther, however, than he who said : " Sin, but believe the
more firmly." He used to assure the little circle at the Doctor's,
that no one could do any thing good, not even himself : the latter
clause was seldom disputed by those who knew him best. One
Saturday evening Mother McAuley sent Miss Warde, a lady of
whom we shall speak uguin, to coax the Doctor to allow Mary
Teresa to return with her, that she might have an opportunity of
hearing Mass on Sunday. Her aunt always found means to con-
trive such an opportunity, but this time the father refu.sed, and
Miss Warde refused to return without her. At length he yielded,
however, and had scarcely done so when the Captain entered.
Curious to find out where the ladies were going, he insisted on
joining young James McAuley to escort them to their destination.
When Baggot-street was named, the Captain said : " Why, Doctor,
I was not aware you had friends in that quarter." But this c'o-
servation elicited no reply. By the time they reached " the big
foolish-looking house,'' twilight had merged into darkness. The
Captain jumped off, and cautioning the ladies not to stir, he ap>
proached the door, peeped through the windows, snuffed the air
proceeding from what ought to be the kitchen ; he then stood out
in the grounds and gazed intently on the large mansion, whose out-
lines were faintly discernible in the increasing darkness. But no
light gleamed

" From wiiulow or ciiRcincnt,
From ghrret or biiseiiiciit."

After carefully reconnoitring he returned to the carriage, and the
young people were almost convulsed with suppressed laughter as

> m

140

LIFE OF CATHERINE JfCAULET.

he pathetically exclaimed : " Ladles, yoa must not alight here.
Sec, there is uo light, and uot a sound could I hear. The house is
uninhabited, or if any one docs live there, it is evident all is not
right, else why such mystery ':" They told him it was Miss
McAuley's rc.-idence. "Oh," he cried contomptuous'y, "Miss Mc-
Auley's folly. She does not know what to do with her money."
With much ado, he permitted them to enter, but threatened Mary
Teresa that he would insist on her father's not permitting her to
visit such suspicious-looking places in future.

Tlie Captain, fully convinced that he could do nothing pood,
does not seem to have often tried, lie was, however, obsequiously
polite. If a lady dropped her glove on the road he was sure to
be on the spot ; if the spirited steed of some horsewoman, not ap-
preciating the value of his fair burden, though painfully conscious
of her iccighf, grew restive, the Captain, whose ubiquity was a
marvel, was instantly at the bridle. Altogether, he was one of the
last men Catherine would choose as a daily companion for her
nephews. Tiiosc who once saw him could not easily forget him.
He had lost a fraction of his frontal cranium in the carnage of
Waterloo, but by a masterly surgical operation, the exposed part
was covered with a layer of silver. Ilis j^ersonnel thus admitting
silver among its ingredients, was a little different from that of
other men, and he was very proud of having contributed by his
skull, if not l)y his brains, to defeat " the little Corporal." Besides,
this unusual blemish entitled his remains to an extra pension, which
made ill-natured peojUc assert that the lost fraction was reallv the
most valuable part of him. Others, more mathematical than
polite, used to attempt to calculate the value of the whole man,
from the fact that such a sum was paid for two or three square
inches of his cranium.

The Captain was a great favorite with the McAulcy boys, whom
he strove to initiate into the Calvinistical principle, which he called
"the delusion of works," and that "naked faith," to the perfect
exercise of which even good works, in his estimation, seemed an
obstacle. They patiently endured his theology for sake of hearing
him recount his recollections of Waterloo, of the hairbreadth
escapes he made, the terrible havoc he caused among the enemy,

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCaULET.

141

ilight here,
^he house ia
t aii is not
I was Miss
" Miss Mc-
lier money."
itcucd Mary
itting her to

jlhing good,
obsequiously
; was sure to
jmnn, not ap-
uUy conscious
biqnity was a
,va? one of the
lanion for her
ly forget him.
he carnage of
exposed part
ihus admitting
from that of
ributcd by his
ral." Besides,
pension, which
was reallv the
icniatical than
ic whole man,
3r three square

ley boys, whom
hich he called
to the perfect
ion, seemed an
ake of hearing
lie hairbreadth
ng the enemy,

and the praise his bravery elicited fK>in both sides. On these
points, however, he kept a modest silence in presence of his com-
rades, who, if they heard him recounting to the chiKlren the mar-
vellous instances in wiiich lie " stood fire," might have volunteered
an opinion that the only thing of the salamander about him was
hia silver frontispiece.

When he and young James McAnley returned from Baggot-
strect, they found the Doctor in his library.

"Why docs your sister-in-law live in that strange manner?"
said the Captain.

" That's her own business," retorted the physician, abruptly, for
Baggot-street House was a sore subject with him. lie regarded
it as the offspring of the only " crazy nook" in the head of the
wisest woman he ever knew.

" But why allow yonr daughter to go there ?" persisted the
Captain. " That's your affair, surely."

A long conversation ensued, and the guest withdrew only when
he perceived that his logic bad taken effect. From that time, it
was all but impossible for Mary Teresa to visit Baggot-street, nor
could the aunt see her nieces and nephews except in presence of a
third party. Yet the Doctor's sentiments in time became con-
siderably modified. The Captain used his influence in season and
out of season, but there was a higher power at work.

Dr. McAuley's bigotry was rather the result of his sincerity
than of unkiuduess. Had he been in power, ho might have per-
secuted those who differed from him in religious matters ; but if bo
did so, it would not be from cruelty, but from an imaginary sense
of duty, and in compliance with the almost irresistible dictates of
an invincibly erroneous conscience. To convert them, he would
never think of "beseeching them by the mildness and benignity of
Christ ;" and as a ruler, he would not have borne the sword in
vaiu. From his own peculiar notions of right and wrong, he
deemed rigor a duty. " The smallest crime deserves death, and I
know of no greater punishment," said Draco. There have been
Christians, whose views nearly coincided with those of the rigid
heathen , but such persons, im .ipablc of making allowances for the
Bhortcomiags of poor fallen nature, could never become wise or

142

lilFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

'ndicioas rnliTs. And their nnsparing censures of the sins and
frailties of their poor fellow-creatures, contrasts strongly with the
mercy of the Divine Lawgiver, who knoweth our frame.

" Tiie law of Moses commands as to stone such a one, but what
gayest Thou ?"

" Let him that is without sin amongst you cast the first stone."

But on this condition not one of them could stone her, and they
all quietly slipped awaj'.

" Hath no mau condemned thee ?" asked the meek Lamb of God ;
to whom the sinful woman replied : 'No man, Lord.'"

" Neither do I condemn thee. Go, now, and sin no more."

This exquisite passage from the public life of our Lord would,
of itself, suflSce to show that " the Word was Ood."

Though Dr. McAuley's theories in doctrine and morals were so
severe, in every-day life he was one of the kindest of men. As he
became more intimately acquainted wich his sister-in-law, his in-
flexibility began insensibly to relax, and towards the end of his
career, he cr-'d not help respecting the religion which impelled her
to such he irtue and continued self-sacrifice. He would even
read CatL )oks, and listen to an explanation of Catholic

dogmas, thus giving her hope that he might one day become a do-
cile child of that Church so long the object of his abhorrence. In
February, 1829, he called at Baggot-street, and complained to her
of feeling a strange weakness and oppression. Poor man, the
death-grasp was on him, and he came to consult her in preference
to any physician. She induced him to return home directly, and
summon the best medical attendance. Next day, he rallied a good
deal, but seeing his beautiful child fatigued by her filial care of
him, he desired her aunt to keep her at Baggot-street till he re-
covered.

About midnight, a loud ringing and knocking interrupted the
uneasy slumbers of Catherine, and on raising her window, the
Doctor's coachman informed her that his master waa dying. In a
few minutes, the aunt and niece were on their way to the sick man.
They found him better than they expected, but evidently sinking.
He revived, however, and began to speak of religion. He said
that ho would become a Catholic instantly, if he could believe what

i . » II " wwU M har *

ic sins and
ly with the

ic, but what

first Btone."
ler, and they

arab of God ;

lO more."
Lord would,

norala were so
• men. As ho
-in-law, his vor
the end of his
ch impelled her
de would even
on of Catholic
ly become a do-
abhorrence. In
[mplained to her
Poor man, the
er in preference
jc directly, and
le rallie(' a good
jer filial care of
[treet till he re-
interrupted the
Ler window, the
fas dying. la a
1 to the sick man.
Ividcntly siuliing.
jligion. He said
ouldbelierewbat

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

143

Catholics belieye. " You know," said he, " the rank prejudice in
which I was reared, but I desire to belong to the Church of Jesus
Christ, wliatever that is,"

She suggested acts of faith, hope, charity, and contrition, which
he made with gieat fervor. " I will consider the subject of religion
more maturely when I grow stronger," said he. " I desire only to
find out the right way." The physicians thought all danger over
for the present, and left the patient to his nurse. He said he would
like to sleep a little, and desired her to take Mary Teresa to Bag-
got-street, adding that she would be neglected during his illness if
she stayed at home. Catherine very reluctantly complied with this
request. They had hardly reached Baggot-street when they were
again summoned. They were borne to the Doctor's as fast as
the tired horses could bear them, but their speed was vain ; he had
had an apoplectic stroke, and as they entered his room he breathed
his last.

It were needless to describe the clamorous grief of his five chil-
dren. Catherine's afl9iction was great ; she loved and esteemed
him fji- his integrity, his sterling worth, and his fidelity to her sis-
ter's memory. By his will, which had been drawn up before his
illness, he appointed Dr. James McAuley and Catherine Elizabeth
McAuley joint guardians of his children, leaving them free to
choose either, and inserting a special clause that their religion most
be left entirely to their own choice.

It was not surprising that Mary Teresa chose her aunt, but
when James, Robert, and little Catherine made the same selection,
the amazement and chagrin of their uncle was very great. Even
little Willie, the pet and plaything of the family, spoiled almost
past redemption, joined in the general chorus : " I'll go to my
annt."

Her brother suggested that she was no fit guardian for these
children, and said that he would not allow his nieces to live amon^'
the people she entertained at Baggot-street. She mildly observed
that since they had chosen her, she would be careful to have them
brought up as befitted their condition. The girls she took to
Baggot-street, which now became her own home, and the boys she
determined to send to St. Patrick's College, Carlow, of which her

II'

.w-i^s^

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

friend, Dr. Fitzgerald, was president. While preparing for col-
lege tliev slept at tlie house of a friend in the vicinity of Daggot-
Btreit aiid spent each day with their sisters. The boys wore very
easily' managed, except Willie, who was every cne's tease, and
every one's darling. Many a fright he gave his good aunt while
he enjoyed her hospitality.

The Institute continued to make rapid progress. In 1829 sev-
eral of the ladies who assisted in the schools manifested a desire
to reside entirely on the premises. The order and discipline ob-
served, the stated times of prayer and silence, the responsibility
which naturally devolved on the Foundress, and made others apply
to her for direction, gave the Institute more the appearance and
character of a Convent than the pious projector had anticipated.

a :...

iring for col-
ty of Daggot-
oys were very
e'8 tease, and
lod aunt while

In 1829 sev-
lifestcd a desire
I discipline ob-
e responsibility
,dc others apply
appearance and
i anticipated.

CHAPTER XIII.

Tlio O'ConncU fnmily.— Tho Liberator a Scruple Doctor.— His ppecch in a
school-room. — His interest iu the new Institute. — Uo diues with the poor
children.

DANIEL O'CONNELL was one of the earliest friend.s of the
rising Institute. He had been for some time acquainted with
Bxis.s MeAuley, and his keen pen'-tration soon discovered beneath the
vt'il of her meekness and humility, a great heart and a noble soul.
Ever anxious to promote the moral as well as the political improve-
ment of his country, the institution in Baggot-strcet had, from its
commencement, his warmest sympathies, and his truly valuable
patronage. Mrs. O'Connell frequently visited the schools, and
never departed without leaving a sura of money to bo distributed
among the poor. Her gifted daughters were among Miss Mc-
A nicy's most efficient co-operators, in her cfToris to promote the
education of poor girls. Mother McAuley often expressed her
surprise at tlie almost universal knowledge O'Connell seemed to
have. He appeared aa much at home in giving her counsel as to
how her Servants' Asylum ought to be worked, us he was in the
Fonv Courts. Wliat surprised her still more was the theological
knowledge which he displayed in a case that came under her own
observation. The circumstances were thCfcC :

A number of his family, who did not reiiido with him, became
liorriiL)ly tormented by scruples. To go to confession was a mar-
tyrdom, to go to Holy Communion seemed an impossibility. Every
devotional exercise was a fresh torture ; an] if each were made a
dozen times over, the poor lady was still ceririn that some words
had ')ecn omitted, that some distraction rendered the good work
Biiifiii, or that the intention not being 8ensil)Iy pnre, was surely bad.
Only those wlio have passed through .i similar ordeal can appreci-
ate the agony of 6uch a state of mind ; and whether the Repealer

f m

^i H , I # viiimmm m ^ a^fi ^f^

.-i-c;-.-~

146

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

I!. ;

i '' i

If.-

himself, hdd passed through it or not, we cannot say — but ho could
guide one through it with a success that many spiritual directors
niigiit ciiyy. In a series of letters he wrote to th's lady, he
discerns between the various kinds of scruples, giving signs to dis-
tinguish whether they come from the Divine, the human, or the
diabolical spirit. He insists on the implicit obedience the scru-
pulous are peculiarly bound to pay their confessor, reprobates self-
will in pious matters, describes many shades of erroneous con-
sciences, and diffusely explains several runca by which nature seeks
to elude grace. As to the practice of frequent Communion, about
which his correspondent seems to have been imbued with some
Jansenistical notions, he entirely agrees with those who recommend
it, and lucidly expatiates on the doctrines of the Fathers with refer-
ence to this subject. These letters amazed such as were capable
of appreciating them. As they were strictly private they have
never been published, though they are doubtless in possession of
some of his descendants.

• Mother McAuley edified and instructed her young associates by
reading them aloud for them. That O'Connell should have some
tincture of theology, moral, mystical, or dogmatic, cannot be sur-
prising, if it be true, as is commonly asserted, that he at one time
had thoughts of embracing the clerical profession ; but to have
knowledge, and to apply it correctly, are two different things in
these abstruse matters ; the first may be gained by study, the
second, as a general rule, must come from practical experience in
directing souls. Yet the letters to which we allude might have
been written by Oerson, John of Avila, or Fenelon.

In his journeys through Ireland, O'Connell nearly always visited
the convents on liis route. On these occasions his reception wod
a kind of ovation. The Tc Deum was sung, the reception-rooms
liung with green, the national emblems, harp, shamrock, and sun-
burst displayed, addresses were read by the pupils, and any request
he asked, implicitly granted. His manner at such scenes was
peculiarly happy. To a young girl who had delivered a flattering
address to the " Conquering Hero," he said very graciously, that
he " rf greltcd her sex precluded her from that distinguished place
in the imperial souate, to which her elocutionary abilities entitled

i-C .-

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

r — but ho could
ritual directors
) th's lady, 1ib
ipg signs to dis-
> human, or the
lience the scru-
rcprobatcs self-
erroneous con-
ich nature seeks
immunion, about
ibued with some
who recommend
ithers with refer-
as were capable
rivate they have
in possession of

ung associates by
should have some
c, cannot be sur-
it he at one time
on ; but to have
ifferent things in
icd by study, the
ical experience in
ude might have
on.

rly always visited

ii<i reception was

c reception-rooms

lanirock, and san-

s, and any request

such scenes was

vered a flattering

graciously, that

istinguished place

y abilities eutltlcd

Ler." Then glancing at the g\rls who surrounded the oratress, ho
continued, with emotion :

" Often have I listened with nerve unstrung, nnd heart unmoved,
to the calumny and invective of our national enemies ; but to-day,
as I look on the beautiful young virgins of Erin, my herculean
frame quivers with emotion, and the unbidden tear moistens my
eye. Can such a race continue in ignoble bondage ? Arc yoa
born for no better lot than slavery ? No," he continued, with
increasing vehemence, " you shall be free ; your country shall yet
be a nation ; you shall not become the mothers of slaves?''*

It is unnecessary to add, that the children who listened to this
outburst of patriotism became Repealers on the spot. In Mother
McAuley's letters O'Connell and his speeches are often mentioned ;
the latter, she says, " have quite brought the Sisters of Mercy into
fashion." Later on we shall give a specimen. She often spoke of
the edification it must give to sec so great a man not only a prac-
tical Catholic, but a most devout one. And though she never
meddled in politics, she was glad to see that the master-spirit of
the political agitation of her country had taken for his motto :
" The greatest revolution ever made id not worth a drop of human
blood."

Out of devotion to the Sacred Infancy, Mother McAuley estab>
lisbed a pious custom of entertaining all the poor children of the
neighborhood, as well as the inmates of the House, at dinner every
Christmas*day.

Tiii.1 was commenced in 1827. O'Connell presided, nnd even
dined with the poor little ones, some of whom could hardly get a
good meal till Christmas came again. IIo had a pleasant word
for every one of them, and their lean, sickly foces soon i "fleeted
the happiness of his fine, good-humored countenance. When in
Dublin, O'Connell always presided at this monster dinner. The
custom of entertaining the poor, especially children, on Christmas-
day, is almost universal in the Order of Mercy.

,»JM»|HB|««JI*

"••■

C^ APTEK XIV.

Onr Lnily of Mercy. — Accession!*.— Kcv. Fnllior Lcstruncc— Very Rev. Father
O'lhitiloh'ii Noviiiiito. — Tlio Militiiry nntl Kcli<riona Orilcr of Oiir Lndy of
Mercy. — Sinters of Murcy foiitvluil by I'riiiccss Tercnn Dorin. — DBilicnlion of
tlic Cliiipcl ill Biijrirot-strcet.— Oppooition to tlie Iimtitiite. — Kxtriict from Dr.
Bliikc'8 ficrinon. — ('liiirital>lu iiiKtitntioiiH fotiiulcil in Ireland diiiini; tlie lust
century, — KoiindrecBcs— " C. McAnley, Exq." — Severity of tlio Arclibisliop. —
AnomuloiH position of the Iimtitnte. — Dr. BlHl<e's kindness. — KindnesB of
Bcver.il rclijfioiis liMnses. — Tlio I'rcsL'iiliition Rule. — Catlicrine enteni Georgo'a
IliU Convent.— Sister M. Mtigdulcri Flynn. — liidiil^^encos grunted to tlie now
Institute,

AFTER some expv'rioucc of the working of the new establish-
ment, it was deemed advisalilo to draw God's blessings more
abundantly on it by placing it under the special protection of the
Blessed Virgin. The Foundress had a particular devotion to Mary,
under the sweet title Mater MiKericordice, and the Feast of Our
Ludy of Mercy had always been her favorite among the beautiful
festivals that gem. the Christian year. At her request, therefore,
the Archbishop kindly permitted the Institute to be called, The
Institute of Our lilessed Lady of Mercy. On the Feast of St.
Ambrose, 1828, his'Grace allowed the staff of the "Institute" to
assume a di^stiiictivo dress, and to visit the sick. The uniform
adopted was a dress of bl.ick cashmere, with a deep cape of the
same, and a small white collar, A lace cap and veil were added ;
the whole costume being similar to that now worn by the postu-
lants of the Institute.

Of the ladies who aided in lii<) performance of the works of
mercy suggested by the zeal of the Foundress, some, contenting
themselves with doing well, became holy wives and mother^, the
pious works of their early years drawing down God's blessing on
their after-lives ; while others, choosing, like Mary, " the belter
part" of consecrating thcuueives to the more immediate serrioe of

'cry Rpv. Futhor
of Our I>nJy of
,,_Dciliciitior. of
Sxtriict from Dr.
amine tl'O '»*'
ho Arclib'mliop. —
.■*«.— Kindiie»» of
10 enters George's
■niilcd to the now

new establish-
blcssings more
oteciion of the
rotion to Mary,
Feast of Our
the beautiful
jucst, therefore,
be called, The
je Feast of St.
3 " Institute" to
The uniform
;cp cape of the
eil were added ;
n by the posta-

of the workH of
iome, contenting
[id niothcr-s tho

od's blessing on
iry, " the better

odiate servioeof

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

149

God, were desirous of joining the zealous band. The fourth ac-
cession was Mary Teresa McAnlpy, who untcred on the anniver-
sary of her baptism, Nov. 22, 1829. Tlie fifth was Miss Frances
Teresa Wi Ic, of whom mention lias been already mudo. When
this liidy evinced a desire to enter, Jllother McAuIey rcferri'd her
to her confessor, Rev. Fatiicr Lostrango, a Carmelite Friar, re-
marking that, in the important step of choosing a state in life, the
director is the surest exponent of God's will. The Rev. Father
gave Miss Wardo his full permission to enter, adding that he
" looked on Miss McAiiIcy as a person raised up by God for some
great and holy end, which in time would be clearly munifcsted."
This young iady entered on the Feast of St. Ambrose, 1829. Be-
fore this, the house was so crowded, that it became very incon-
venient to send out its inmates to Mass and conffssion. The
oratory was therefore fitted up as a chapel, and a chaplain and
confessor appointed by the Archbishop. His Grace onicrcd that
an addition be mude to accommodate the public of the neighbor-
hood, as is custotnary in Ireland, where most convents have such ac-
commodation for seculars, the part occupied by the Religious being
separated from the rest by a grating.

"Very Rev. Mr. O'llanlou continued ordinary confessor to tho
Institute from tho time of his appointment, in 1828, till a few
weeks before his death, wlilch occurred in 18G3. lie, atid indeed
his wliole Order in Ireland, have been, from the first, firm friends of
the Order of Mercy.

Father O'llanlon had made his novitiate in Spain, some thirty
years before he became connected with the Order of Mercy. lie
used sometimes to encourage the ladies who assisted Miss McAuley
by telling them how often he was on the point of losing his voca-
tion, and how, on one occasion, his expulsion was actually decided
on, utider the following circti instances :

Several of the ancients of his Order having met to disctiss some
impoi'tant business, the cook, in his nn.\itty to servo flic Fatlurs,
forgot to prepare dinner for tho novices ; and a majority of the
latter not being disposed to fast more than the rule required, they
a^ourned to the garden, where, under tho friendly shade of orango
and almond trees, they enjoyed a delicious though uncooked ro-

■

Ifil*

160

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

past. However, a Father, whom age and infirmity had snpei-an*
nuatcd, observing from his window the havoc which was being
made in the orchard, gave the alarm, and the poor youths were
very unccrenioiiionsly disturbetl, and summoned before the chapter
in session. IJrotlier Redmond, as tlie leader, came in for the
largest share of censure, and was ordered to prepare for a homcr
w^ard voyage.

Now this was not only a religious disgrace, it was a national
calamity. The Spanish Fathers had never before dismissed an
Irishman, but Redmond Joseph O'llanlon now broke the charm.
He entreated forgiveness, promising never to look at nice fruit
again ; he would ' i)erfurm the greatest penance, provided they
would keep him in the Order m any capacity whatever. After
some discussion, a mild-looking old Father, whom the novice ever
after regarded as a saint, inquired how he had come to commit
si'ch a terrible breach of monastic discipline. The poor youth
cou'.u not be convicted of any thing worse than hunger, aiid some
very unsound theology on the subject of holy poverty. Tiie ven-
erable <;ld man pleaded for him, and the misdemeanor, not so bad
after all for a youth in his teens, was forgiven ; but for many a
day the very look of frnit was enough to make Brother Redmond
quake.

In concluding this anecdote, the ancient Provincial would remark,
with great simplicity, that the novices engaged in this freak, " be-
came the most distinguished men in our Order, my dear."

This worthy Provincial of the Carmelites is frequently mentioned
in Mother McAulcy's letters. In one of them she says: "There
never was a more disiuterested friend than Father O'llanlon,"

In 1828, the Archbishop desired Miss McAuley to choose some
name by which to designate her little community. She inmicdiately
selected a title in which a sweet womanly relation is blended with
the name of that Divine attribute so dear to fallen nature ; nnd,
henceforth, she and her chililren were known as Sistkus ok Mercy.
An OrdiT of Mercy had alnjady existed in the Church, of which
wo will give a rapid sketch.

Those conversant with the history of the middle ages,- will read-
ily remember the horrors perpetrated by Mohammedan corsairs oa

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

151

ad snpei-an*
was being

youths were

the chapter
in for the

for a homo

a national
ii.smisscii an

the charni.
tt nice fruit
ovided they
jver. After

novice ever
10 to commit

poor youth
;r, aiid some
y. Tiie ven-
, not so bad
t for many a
ler Redmond

iTOuld remark,
is freak, " be-
ar."

tly mentioned
lays : "There
Ilanlon."
) choose some
ic immediately
blended with
nature ; nnd,
•.R3 OF Mercy,
irch, of which

igesj will read*
laa corsairii OQ

all vessels too weak to defend themselves. Whole crews were
often carried into the most degrading bondage. Noble and plebeian,
learned and ignorant, old and young, languished in the fetid dun-
geons of Moorish tyrants for years, and sometimes for their whole
lives. Wearied by the pains of a lengthened captivity, not a few
became miserable renegades, and exchanging the cross for the cres-
cent, became victims of a slavery more degrading than that to
which piracy or the fortunes of war had reduced them. The
Moors possessed the fairest portions of Si)ain : Valencia, Catalonia,
and Granadu, were among their conquests. Their victories spread
terror throughout Southern Europe. They believed it to be the
destiny of Isiamism to exterminate Christianity, They sometimes
reckoned among their captives Christian princes. While the brave
and chivalrous James of Aragon was in captivity among them, he
vowed that, should he regain his freedom, he would establish some
means of alleviating the miseries of poor Christian slaves ; but his
success in keeping this vow was very po^tiol, till God raised up a
saint to inaugurate a new era for the r jtivjs. Teter Nolasco, a
noble Spaniard, touched with their niiseries, was inspired to found
an Order for their relief. A vision of Onr Lady of Mercy, with
which he was favored, confirmed him in this design ; and in 1223
he received the habit of the new Order from St, Raymond of
Pennafort, who drew up rules for the " Iloyjal Militarij and Re-
ligious Order of Our Lady of Mercy.'' The objects of this
Order were the worku of mercy, especially the redemption of
captives. Each member bound himself by a vow to exchange
himself for a captive, should there be no other means of ransom.
The heroic deeds of these Redemptioners nnd Ransomers, Lave
elicited the warmest approbation of mediaeval historians ; and well
did they deserve praise, for " greater love than this no man hath,
that a man lay down his life for his friend." Whether they pined
in the loathsome dungeons of Morocco or Algiers, or preached
in the slave-markets, or fed the hungry and instructed the ignorant
at the gates of their magnificent coinniandcries, they everywhere
diffused the good odor of Jesus Ciirist, Their white habits denoted
the innocence of their lives, the red cross showed they were ready
to shed their blood in defence of the cross of Christ, while the

m-y

\-i >>

-aapf^

I LJ J tW i* an

152

LIFE OF CATUERINE MCAULEY.'-

royal arms of Aragon, intcrwo^ <'ii with the cross on their brmnts,
testified their gratitude to their most munificent benefactor, King
James of Aragon.

In consequence of the altered state of Europe, this Order has
declined much in members and importance. It still possesses
houses in Spain, Germany, and Sonth America. In many of the
delightful tales and legends of the mediajyal period, the Knight, or
Brother of Mercy, figures conspicuously in his beautiful character,
adding fresh lustre to the records of those chivalrous times.

For this ancient Order Miss McAulcy had so great a predilec-
tion, that when she found she had almost unconsciously cstabllslied
a new religious Institute, she desired to adapt St. Peier Nolasco's
Order for women, and hence her choice of the beautiful appellation.
Sisters of Mkrcy,* and her design to make icorL's of mercy the
distinctive feature of her Institute. She wished the members to
combine the silence, recollection, and prayer of the Carmelite with
the active zeal of a Sister of Charity. This was regarded by
many as chimerical, nevertheless she accomplished her supposed
Utopia. Every one knows that Sisters of Mercy arc bound to the
laborious duties of instructing the ignorant, visiting the sick aud
imprisoned, managing hospitals, orphan asylums, and homes for dis-
tressed women ; but many are surprised to learn that these Sisters
make perpetual vows, observe choir, spend si.\ or seven liours daily
in spiritual exercises, and nearly a month of every year in retreat ,f

Few are acquainted with the names of the illustrious women who
effected this combination of the active aud contemplative lives.
The eloquence of the historian, the canvas of the painter, tlie mar-
ble of the sculptor, hand down to posterity the moral and physical
features of those who filled tiic world with the wuil of the widow
and the cry of the orphan, while those who comforted the one and
dried the tears of the otiicr are seldom rescued from oblivion. To

• Tlio namo SiBtcrs of Mcroy (Lo Sorollo dolln Miscricordia) wn» ndopted
about tlio viuno tiino by it Society of Kolij^ions foiiridcd by I'rinroBS Turefia
Doriu ruinpliili, iii Koine. Tlicy linve ho!<{)itul« within tho oiicloHure of their
nioimstery walls.

t From tho 6th of August to tho 15th, from the 23th of December to the Ist
of JaD^)u^y, the first Sunday of every month, etc.

heir brpftjita,
ifactor, King

lis Order has
ill possesses
many of the
10 Knight, or
'ill character,
times.

it a predilec-
ly cstaljllshcd
iter Nolasco's
il appellation,
of mcrey the
p members to
larraclite with
regarded by
her sui)posed
bound to the
: the sick and
lomes for dis-
t these Sisters
en hours daily
ar in retreat .f
js women who
nplativc lives,
inter, the raar-
il and physical
of the widow
!d the one and
oblivion. To

tin) wim ndopted

I'riuooBS ToresB

jiicloburo of iheir

comber to the \tX

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

1S8

the saintly dead this matters little, but the world should not be
denieri the biographies of such as are best calculated to edify it.
Witliin a few years several institutions for tiiv education of the
poor, the relief of the sick, and other holy objects, liuve sjiruii!?
"up in Ireland, amid unexampled diiriculties, and the very names of
their respective originators are almost unknown. Tliis is not cred-
itable to Ireland, and moreover, it is an old failing. Tiierc is com-
paratively little record of the palmiest days of the Irish Church,
when saints were added to the Calendar by hundreds ; and of thtic
little, a portion is due to foreigners. Perhaps the interesting events
of St. Malachy's episcopate had been unknown, had not St. Ber-
nard written his life, for the edification of all ages.*

Catherine was accustomed to say, that she never attempted any
thing for tlie glory of God which did not meet with the most de-
termined opposition. Her own relatives were always her oppo-
nents ; but, circumstanced as she was, it necessarily hajipened that
her enemies were of her own household. As soon as her Institute
began to assume a distinctive character. Bishops, Priests, Religious,
and Seculars assailed her ; many even deemed it a good work to
persecute her. When, on the Octave of the Ascension, 1829, tho
Archbishop blessed the Cliapel, and dedicated it to Our Lady of

Mercy, Rev. Mr. W was appointed, very much against his

will, to sing the Iligli Mass. At breakfast, he commented very
severely on Miss McAuley's proceedings, pointing out that her
associates had assumed a uniform plain enough to be considered
the precursor of the Religious habit ; and though he did not speak
go OS to be heard by Dr. Murray, lest bis words might seem a censure
on his Grace's kindness, he was all the more earnest in impressing
his views on others, as Dr. Blake, in the Dedication sermon, had
given utterance to the following words :

* Very Rev. Fiithor O'lInnlon'H Lives of tlio Irish Saints will go fur to remedy
tlio (letleiiMioy wo linvo iilliided to.

Wo Imvo ftlipmly mcn'i"iici.l llio UrsuUno and J'rc*eiitiition Orders. The
Clirisliim Urotiior^ were fminded in Wulerfurd, 1802, by Elinund Kioo, Esq.
Tlioy adopted tlio Kiiles of tlio Veil, do In Sallo. Tlio Urigeliiics, in Tnllow,
by Miss M. C. Dawson, 1800 ; tho Sisters of Charity, in DuMin, by Miss Mary
A. Aikenhcad, 1317 ; the Lorctto Nuns, by Miss Aloysin liuU ; the I'reaentauoa
Brothers, the Brothers of St. Putriok, &o., &o.

S !

154

LIFE OP CATHERINE M^AULET.

" I look upon Mi.«s McAulcy as one selected by Heaven for seme
prciU work. Her heart overflows witli the eharity of Jesus, whoso
all-consuuiing love burns witliiii her. No woman has o\er accom-
plished more f<.'r suffering, sorrowing humanity. Slie nmy well re-
joice over those whom she has been instrumental in -inatching from ,
the enemy's griisj), and may confidently claim a blessing from
heaven on her future labors. I will venture to s.iy that her name
is written in the Hook of Life, and I feel convinced that any in-
dividual presuming, by word or deed, to injure her establishment,
will draw down upon him-elf the lash, the scourge of the Almighty,
even in this world."

This was strong language from any source, but any one ac-
quainted with the late Bishop of Dromore,* will admit that his
eminent virtue gave peculiar weight to every thing he said. Sus-
tained by him, the Institute could hardly fail, and its enemies were
well aware of this.

Another clergyman, who was under several obligations to Miss
McAuley, hinted, in rather impolite terms, that, by the mere at-
tempt to found a new society, she had ipso fado unsexed herself,
and wrote to her in the most contemptuous style, addressing the
letter to " C. McAuley, Esq." His memory could not have been
very retentive of facts with which his profession might have made
him acquainted, else he might remember that it was no new thing
for women to establish religious Orders. If the Scripture speaks
of few woraenf who received the gift of prophecy, we do not re-
collect that it mentions any false prophetesses ; but foundresses
under the Christian dispensation may be mentioned in scores, and
8aints| have sometimes sulyected whole monasteries of monks to
the gentle rule of au Abbess I Yet more, in that most abstruse
of sciences — mystical theology — women are numbered among the

• Tlio beautiful J/ai/o«n<i which hnng* over t)ie u\U\t Mattr Miitrieordici,\n
the cliupel lit Uiijr«ot-sticct, was predcntcd by Dr. lilulce, on his rotiiru from
BuiDO, »liunco ha bruii^lit it, IS'JO.

t The two Aiiiia!>, Uibora, Miriam, etc.

X As St. Gilbert of Eiijflaiiii, St. Briiliret of Sweilen, etc. The monks wera
uulijcct in tcniporiils to tlio Abbos's of the Convent of their Urder, which ad-
Jgiu i the Chur«h that served bot>'.. oomiuuuitie*.

LIFE OF CATHERINE ilCAULEY.

155

cn for Bcme
jsns, whoso
^er accom-
my well re-
tching from .
•ssiiig from
t her immo
hat any in-
;ablishmeiit,
3 Ahnighty,

iny one ac-
lit that his
; said. Sus-
ucmics were

ions to Miss
he mere at-
jxed herself,
dressing the
t have beea
t have made
10 new tiling
pture speakfl
e do not re-
t foundresses
in scores, and
of monks to
nost abstruse
d among the

Miitricordut, in
his return from

riie monks were
Order, which ad-

Doctors of the Church. And after ail. Miss McAuley conld not
open an asylum for the protection of poor girls, without departing
from her natural delicacy, and sacrificing her fcmiuino graces !

Nothing could exceed the reverence Catherine hud for the clergy.
Like her patroness, the Saint of Sienna, she would have kissed the
ground on which a priest stood, rcdcctiiig that it was tlirou;;!, hig
instrumentality sinners were reconciled to God. She inculcaletl
this most earnc tly in all whom she instructed ; and she once se-
verely reproved a postulant who asked a priest, an old friend of
her family, to take a little parcel to a mutual friend. She said,
if we ought to show politeness to seculars, wc should evince rev-
erence for ecclesiastics. "The youngest priest," she would say,
" is superior in dignity to the greatest monarch on earth, and ought
to be treated accordingly." AVhen she glanced at the nddriss of
this most offensive letter, her tears gushed forth despite of iier
efforts to restrain them. " Alas," said she. " how little did I
think, when I tried to devise some means oi assisting the neglected
poor, that I should ever live to give offence to the least of God's
ministers !"*

The writer of this letter did not repeat the iusult. He dropped
dead in the street a few days after he wrote it, and his sudden
death was by some regarded as a judgment, and in verification of
Dr. Blake's prediction. Catherine always spoke of him with esteem,
said his opposition was well meant, and had prayers offered for his
soul, when she heard of his untimely end.

More than Rev. Mr. W were unwilling to sanction the

dedication of the new establishment. The nearest house to it was
a public institution, sustained by Protestants, the trustees of which
gave a little annoyance to their neighbors. Miss MoAu!c> oftea
petitioned them to permit her to raise, at her own expense, the
wall which divided their respective premises, but they would not
hear of it, till, to their intense chagrin, they learned that the Arch-
bishop, in blessing the new establishment, would pass along the low
boundary wall with bell, book, and candle, incense and holy water.
The fact that the inmates of their institution could not be pre-

t Communicatcil Ijy M, Frances Warde, who waa present when the letter waa
delivered

.sm£^

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

vented from peeping in, combined with the fear that a few drops of
holy water might desecrate tlieir evangelical premises, and a vagne
notion that the Po|)e might be present in disguise, had more effect
than all Miss McAuley's rhetoric. The morning of the dedication
the wall was found to have gone up as if by magic, a few feet
higher than even the petitioner desired.

The Feast of Corpus Christi and that of the Sacred Heart were
celebrated at the new Institute with great solemnity. The Confra-
ternity of the Sacred Heart* was established, and many of the
inmates, with the more grown of the school-children, were enrolled
in it. From that time, 1829, it has been the general custom to
enrol in this sodality the pupils on the day of their first com-
munion.

But the trials most grievous to the Foundress had yet to come,
and they came from the Archbishop, her direct superior. For
yenrs he had been her spiritual guide, she had not taken one step
towards her present position without his direction or consent.
Several zealous persons having represented to him that the new
Institute was being changed into a Convent, without being bound
by any of the rules authorized by the Church, his Grace admitted
the infoiiveuience of this, and said that the idea of a conventual
establiaiimi-nt starting up of itself in this manner had never cvitered
into hi^ Aiind. Indeed, the position of the Institute was somewhat
anomalous. It was not a convent, its members being bound by no
rule or vow, nor could it, with propriety, be styled a secular house,
for already it had its appointed hours of silence and recreation, of
labor and rest, of prayer and study. Not one of those concerned
ever thought of its becoming the cradle of a new Religious con-
gregation ; but what Founder ever saw at a glance the consequences
of his work ? Look, for example, at St. Ignatius. Born at a
time when the spirit of the Crusaders was not yet totally extinct,
he desires to establish his few disciples in a country politically one
the least among nations, though, as the land in whicii the Redemp-
tion was accomplished, it must ever be dear to all Christian hearts.

* S-^' fnl spc .ai indiilj^enc^a nrc nttnclied to tliii> Confniteriiity in Ireland, in
>)on'ji<iv.enoe, ai one of tl'.e rescripts tsaj-g, of " tlie great devotiou to tlio Sacred
Heart which prevails in that kingdom."

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY".

167

w drops of

lul a va^no

more effect

dcdieation

a few feet

Heart were
The Confra-
liiny of the
ere enrolled
[ cnstom to
r first com-

yet to come,
[lerior. For
;en one step
or consent,
hat the new
being bound
ice admitted
conventual
icvor entered
|as somewhat
l(Ound by no
ecular house,
•eereation, of
isc concerned
iligioub con-
consequences
Born at a
[tally extinct,
politically one
the Rodcmp-
■istian hearts.

ly in Irclnnfl, in
In to tlio Sacred

IJttlc did hft then imngine that his sous were destined to become
the npo.-^tles of nations, to revive in the Church the glories of her
primitive ages, and to b. come by t'lcir writinijs the spiritual direct-
ors of the world. Just as little did Catherine anticipate the future,
wliou she erected a house to slielter a few jxjor women.

One of her opponents, counting on her submis-sion, for her obe-
dience was known to be equal to her charity, visited her in July,
1829, and after having been shown through the institution, informed
her that the Archbishop intended to transfer it to the Sisters of
Charity, but that she would be allowed to retain apartments, and
have a private entrance. Tiiis intelligence, abruptly imparted, shot
a momentary pang through her heart. She thought of the com-
panions of her labors, the realization of her early aspirations, the
house to maintain which she had made herself almost a beggar,
and forfeited the affections of her nearest friends ; and then raising
her eyes to heaven, without yielding to the slightest emotion, she
gently and smilingly informed her visitor that she was ready to
acquiesce in his Grace's decision. The same day she wrote to the
Archbishop to that effect.

In a subsequent visit, Dr. Murray informed lier that he had not
authorized any one to make such a communication. " However,"
he added, " I did not think the founding of a new Order was part
of your plan." As she made no comment on this, he continued in
freezing tones, and with a cold, disdainful air, which he could well
assume : " lleally, Miss McAuley, I had no idea that a new Con-
gregation would start up in this maimer." It was well that Cath-
erine posses-sed as much virtue as he gave her credit for.

After his departure her mind became terribly agitated. Had
her own will, then, been her guiding star ? Was mere self-gratifi-
cation her object, and not the glory of God ? And after o))eying
her legitimate superiors so exactly, how did it happen that she had
acted in opposition to their wishes ? Again she wrote to the
Archbishop, offering to resign into his hands the house just com-
pleted, begging that he wquld be pleased to allow her the poorest
apartment in it, and permission to labor in any capacity to carry
out her good intentions. Relating this incident, Very Rev.
Dominic Murphy adds :

: ^

•J I

■I:

: J

158

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

"No oue could better appreciate the generosity of such au offer
than the prelate to whom it was made, lie knew her worth, and
had no difiiculty in perceiving that her conduct throughout had
been influenced by the purest charity. He had been li im her first
convet".sion the witness of her zeal and piety. To her proposal
of committing the cstabii-^hment to the care of some one of the
religious institutions then in Dublin, he gave the most decided
negative,, rightly judging that the same benevolent and generous
spirit to which it was indebted for its existence, would best preside
over its subsequent exertions, and conduct it to eventnal success."
" Every good work," he said, "was destined to be opposed and
contradicted, and for trials she should ever be i)reparcd."

It was in the midst of the greatest opposition that the whole
economy of God's will in her regard, burst upon her mind. Not
only was she inspired to add a new gem to the brilliant diadem of
the Church, but to combine what had been previously regarded as
belonging to different states, so far as female Religious were con-
cerned, and to accop'.plish what had been unsuccessfully tried in
Ireland and elsewhere : perpetual vows, a large amount of choir
duty, a strict observance of silence, etc., seeming almost impossible
without the aid of cloister ; while visitation of the sick, the neces-
sary intercourse with seculars, and the worivs of mercy to be per-
formed in and out of the Convent, seemed incompatible with so
much daily choir-duty, etc. " Dr. Blake," says she, " received all
the ideas I had formed, and I am certain he had the Institute in
his mind in all his communications with God." Happily, he
returned from Rome just when his assistance was indispensable.
He consoled her in all her afllictiona, and cased her mind of much
pain, assuring her that self-will had had no share in her exertions,
of which be had seen the commencement, and watched the
progress.

Speaking of the troubles that assailed her at this time. Mother
Mury V. Ilartnett writes : " God drew good out of evil, ordaining
that these very storms should be the means of making the com-
munity take firm root, and bring forth more vigorous fruits of vir-
tue and good works, as they were also the means of securing to
the Sisters permanent successors for their holy mission." lu the

LIFK OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

159

ich au offer
worth, and
ighont had
im her first
cr proposal

one of thp
lost decided
id generous
best preside
iial success."
apposed and
il"

at the whole
■ mind. Not
int diadem of
f regarded as
)ua were con-
;fully tried in
3uut of choir
)st impossible
ck, the neccs-
cy to be por-
tible with so

received all
e Insiituto in

Happily, he
indispensable,
mind of much

ler exertions,

watclied the

time, Mother
evil, ordaining

Ling tlic com-
fruits of vir-
of securing to
lion." lu the

summer of 1830, the opposition was so great that it seemed as if
the Sisterhood, now numbering twelve, must disband. Full of con-
fidence in God, Catherine tranquilly left the result to Ilim, and
consoled and animated her companions under their mutual afflic-
tions. Visiting her one day, Dr. Blake remarked that the Insti-
tute was now like its Divine Master, a sign to be contradicted,
" but," added he, " it is high time to rescue you and your associates
from the anomaly on' your present position ; you have endured it
long enough." He then went to confer with the Archbishop,
and, says Very Rev. Mr. Murphy, " the confcrenco of these two
great men was long and animated." Impressions had been made
on his Grace which it was not easy to remove, but the rrrult of
the consultation was, that the " Sisters of Mercy " should appear
either as Religious or as seculars, and as they unanimously chose
to become Religious, it was decided that their Institute should be
entirely unconnected with any other, that it should be governed by
its own rules and constitutions, and that the practices of monastic
life, as such, should as soon as possible be introduced among its
members.

The Carmelites* and Poor Clares were especially kind on thi
occasion. Both of these ancient Orders offered, in the most affec-
tionate terms, to affiliate the house to their own. Indeed, almost
all the Convents of the Archdiocese stretched out a helping hand
to their embryo Sister, sending copies of their respective rules for
Miss McAuley's inspection. Of these rules, that of the Presenta-
tion Order seemed best adapted to the object in view,f and on being
informed of this, the Archbishoj) offered to invite some professed
members of that Order to reside awhile in Baggot-strcet, or to
allow Mm McAulcy and a few of her associates to make a novi-
tiate in some Presentation Convent. The latter being agreed on,

• I'rolmbI) tiirouirh tliu iiiflucnco of W-ry Hi>v. Fiill-or O'llniilon, Coiifussor,
i\ml Very IJuv. Uiiniel Uurko, O. S. F., Clia|>lniii of the Iiistitiitc.

t Tlio I'rosFntiitluii Kiik'B of wliich tlio Kiilo of St. Aii((i)Htiiio Ih tlio \>am»,
wore druwti up by U«v. Luwronco U'Ciiiiuftliiin, O. 8. 1'., Cork, nml Niino
Niiftlu, iibmit tlio yciir 1777. Tlioy wire iipprovod by PiuH VI., In 171)1, ond
coiiflrmod by riiix VII., 1805. Tlio KcliKioiis iiro bniiiul to tlio CHlucutiori of the
poor onl]/—ong\iu\\\y tlioy vUilcd tlio itiuk, etc., but tliey have been oloiatored
linoo 1906.

I >

160

LIFE or CATHERINE MCAULET.

it was resolved tlmt slie, her first coni])aiiion. Miss Doyle, cDd a
lute accession, Miss Elizubeth Ilivrlev, slioiilil make their novitiate
in the monastery of George's lliii,* tlie community of which kindly
acquiesced in this arriingement. By much diliucnce the prepara-
tions for their departure were completed by the 8th of SuptiMnher,
Catherine being e:ijier to livinor the Festival of Our^ Lady's Nativ-
ity by t'.e sacrifice, and to place the uliole proceeding under tho
special patronage of Mary. TIio Superioress and Community at
George's Ilill received them at the gate.

This year, 1830, Miss Mary Delany, of Castle Durrow, Kilkenny,
Miss Georgina Moore, of Duljlin, Miss Durne, and Mi.-s Marcella
Flynn, both friends of Dr. Dlake, entered. Miss Flynn was some-
where between the si.xth and ninth hour of life when she joined the
Institute, As a general rule. Miss McAuley preferred young sub-
jects, but as this j)ious lady was recommended by Dr. J>lake, she
was immediately accepted. It was, however, so dilTicnlt to " break
her in" to religious life, and, as one of her fiiends jileasantly said,
"to get the old inaid out of her," that Mother iMcAnley wa.")
obliged to devcte no small portion of time to her alone, and it was
remarked that slit kept Sister Marcella in the house in order
that she herself might never chance to be without across. Yet her
patience and forbearance were well rewarded, for this Sister became
one of the most ellicient nieinl)ers. In the course of a few years
she had got completely "out of her little ways," and was admitted
to profession. Strange to say, slie survived nearly all her juvenile
contemporaries, dying of mere old age, in 1803. She was |)rescnt
at all the community exercises till tho vesper hour of the d. , of her
death, when she complained of a little faintness. Tho confessor,
who happened to be in the house, anointed her, and she expired
without the least apparent struggle, after about ten minutes' illness,

• OoorKo'o lUll Prenentfttion Convont is n fpaelouR hiit drcnry-lookliift hiiild-
Inp, Kllimlcil in tlio numt dcii-ily pi>pnliilocl piirt of Dublin, Norili Aniie-Rtrcct.

II WHS crut'ti'il ill IT'.U, luul \* i.'o!iso(|iic'nlly tlio iililost Cutliolio m'IiodI in tlio
Ctipital. ItR niiiillniotive (>itu wiis cliO'cn pioliiilily to l<<'('p it iih ninoli oat of
vliw iiN poiiHll)U<. In tlioKO (liiys, Cutliolio iiiHtitutiouB Uuro not iliow tlienuelvM

III ronpeotnble luciiiilioi.

Doyle, i'.nd a
heir novitiate
' which kindly
the prcpara-
)f SiptiMtiber,
Lady's Nativ-
ing under I ho
Community at

•o\v, Kilkenny,
Mi.-s Marcella
rnn was some-
she joined the
•ed yonng sub-
Dr. Blake, she
?uU to " break
feasant ly said,
jMcAnlcy was
me, and it was
lonse in order
ross. Yet her
5 Sister became
of a few years
J was admitted
all her juvenile
)he was present
■ the d, y of her
The confessor,
,nd she expired
minutes' illness,

■nry-lookltid liiiild-
Mortli Aniic-fitrL'Ct.
olio vcIiodI ill tlie
it iiH iimoli "Ut of
)t ihow ilienuelvet

nhMi-M

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

161

having previously composed herself as if for sleep. In a little time
the ancient Provincial followed his more ancient penitent. '

In June, 1830, the Sisterhood were greatly consoled by receiv-
ing from his Holiness Pope Pius VII I. a Rescript of In<ln|.ronces
dated May 23, 1830. Tliis favor was granted chiefly tlirou'^rh the
mfluence of Very Rev. Dr. Whelan, a Carmelite Father" now
Bishop of Bombay. '

CHAPTER XV.

Ose of the Nnvitiiitc. — The Novioo nnd tlio Mistress. — Incidfnts of Cntherlne*!
Novitiate. — Trialn. — Ciillicriiie's reception. — Beliind the iji UU.—Em\nenl vir-
tues Cntheriiie olmerved in the Abbess nnd Keligious of George's Hill.—
PupilM of the I'resoatutioii Nuns,

rpiIAT no person may unadvisedly take the important and irrev-
J. ocable step of making religious vows in any approved Oi'der,
it is wisely ordained that a novitiate of at least one year be made
previous to profession,* during which candidates are required to
learn the technicalities of conventual life, the spirit of the rule
they desire to embrace, the nature of the duties which it will bo
their life-long business to perform, and every thing connected with
the perfection and obligation of the vows. This is a matter of
justice to the subjects, because they ought to understand well the
obligations they contract ; and to the Order which receives them,
because time and experience are requisite in judging of the most
promising vocations. As all who persevere must permit themselves
to be moulded as the rules and traditions of the Institute require,
the period of probation is generally a time of trial and temptation,
as well as of great spiritual consolation.

Sister Catherine commenced her novitiate with the most perfect
dispositions'. Neither her mature years, nor her declining health,
nor her previous position, which had been one of authority, ever
induced her to claim the least exemption. She considered the
meanest occupation in religion more honorable than the highest
earthly dignity, and it was easy to perceive that she had indeed
" chosen to become an abject in the house of the Lord." Com-
pletely resigning herself into the hands of her superiors, she begged

* The length of the novitiote vnries in diflbrvnt Orders. In the Order of
U«roy It is four year* nnd » half; in the Ursulino, six years nnd n half, eto.

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

163

if Catherine'!
.Eminont vir-
orge'b Hill.—

^t and irrev-
■oved Order,
ear be made
1 required to

of tlic rule
ich it will be
nnccted with

a matter of
tand well the
;ceives them,

of the most
lit themselves

itutc require,
Id temptation,

most perfect
[lining health,
luthority, ever
[onsidercd the
[n the highest
|io had indeed
jord." Com-
|>r8, she begged

[in tlie Ord«r ol
^iJ n Imir, eto.

them to do with her as they pleased, and they did not fail to pat
her virtue to very severe tests. The Mistress of Novices, Mother
Teresa Hagan, was a convert of reraarliably ri.i>id views, but never-
theless well fitted for her responsible office. Sometimes she affected
to misunderstand her saintly novice, and treated her as a visionary ;
Bometinies slie hinted that ambition to found a new Order was
among her motives, and she sometimes imposed grievous penances
and humiliations for faults which her novice never thought of. All
sweetness to others, for sire saw they were not called to such high
sanctity, she was almost invariably severe to Catherine, and her
manner was sa perfectly natural that it was impossible to tell
whether she was inflicting a penance for some real fault, or trying
the virtue of a proficient. Her other children she treated as chil-
dren, but Catherhie she treated as a giantess. This consummate
mistress had sufficient judgment to impose on her novices, individ-
ually, just so much of a burden as they could bear with a lillle
difficulty.

Catherine, habitually severe ou herself, was always indulgent to
others. She knew how to make allowances for every one. Her
great knowledge of the world, her keen penetration, her almost in-
stantaneous perception of the motives and dispositions of those
whom she met for the first time, instead of making her bitter or
censorious, had a directly contrary effect. She could see much
good where others could not see any ; and by patience and judi-
cious kindness, slio often made saints of characters who, if man-
aged by one less skilful, could not, Immaiily speaking, persevere at
all. He who had destined her to become a guide and model to
uumerous souls, ordained that she should have every facility for
becoming expert in the spiritual warfare. Her most trivial inad-
vertence was rigorously reprehended, her will and inclinations con-
tinually thwarted, and the least gratification studiously inteidicted.
When she wished to rest, she had to labor ; when she evinced a de-
sire to read, she was ordered to teach ; and when she seemed in«
clined to prny, she was sent to recreate.

" Reproofs and trials," says Mother McAuley's last biographer,
" could not disturb the serenity of Sister Catherine's appearance, or
the tranqaillity of her mind. She afterwards said they were of

-ii^

164

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

service to her, and that, if she were permitted a choice, she woald
prefer to remain a novice all her life.

" Her cheerfulness and animation made her the life of the re-
creation. At times her own two sistei-s feared lest she shonld go
too far ; — Sister Anna Maria, throngh the apprehension of dis-
pleasin;^ the Presentation inms whom she dearly loved ; Sister
Elizabeth, lest something might occur that would defer their return
home. But though Sister Catherine's playfulness and cheerfulness
were great, they were always so well regulated that there was no
danger of their hicurring any real censure.

"On one occasion a liouse adjoining, belonging to the nnns,
having become vacant, it was necessary for some of them to go
into it to see what repairs it required. Now, as the garden wall
bounded the enclosure, no novice could go outside it without in-
curring the penalty of recommencing her noviti!>.te. It being a
time of recreation when the appointed nuns were going, Sister
Catherine seemed as if determined to accompany them ; and when
her two companions saw her actually going with them towards the
forbidden door, and apparently st''pping out, they hastened to her
in the greatest alarm ; but they soon found that she was in the
spirit of recreation doing the work of the hour, raising an innocent
smile : she had no intention of committing the fault, nor did she
at all forget the rule."

One day her friend Very Rev. Dr. Fitzgerald was announced.
He had come from Carlow to visit her ; and, as he brought news
of her nephews, she naturally evinced some pleasure on being told
to go to the parlor. !Mothcr Teresa perceiving (his, ordered her
to send a polite excuse for her nonappearance, and the President
was obliged to return without seeing her. Circumstanced as she
was, her solicitude ;b^ the health and progress of these boys was
very great. Should they grow discontented at College, she had no
homo to receive them, and except as Protestants their uncle would
not admit them to his house. She feared they might be ill or uu-
imi)i)y, cljc the Doctor had come to confer with her concerning
them ; but In a few days she had the happiness of learning that
her apprehensions were groundless. Robert and James had been
received into the Catholic Church by the great Dr. Doyle, then

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

165

slir, would

of the re-
I slionld go
ion of dis-
•cd; Sister
their return
chcerfalncss
here was no

to the nuns,

them to go

ganlen wall
it without in-
It being a
going, Sister
01 ; and when
n towards the
astcncd to her
.be was in the
n"' an innocent
lit, nor did she

ras announced,
brought news
oil being told
[lis, ordered her
the rrcsident
Istanced as sbo
[these boys was
lege, she had no
lieir uncle would
]ht be ill or uu'
her concerning
)f learning that
James had been
IDr. Doyle, then

Bishop of KiUlaro and Leighlln, and William, who in time followed
tiicir example, made his abjuration in Dublin ; and in the vacation
of 1830, just before his aunt's entrance into the Prescntsitiou Con-
vent, he and his sister Catherine made tiieir first communion in +ho
Chapel of the Convent of Mercy, Baggot-strcet. In 1831, prob-
ably on account of her absence, the property of her sister's chil-
dren, situiited chiefly in the County Louth, became involved in ex-
pensive litigation, and the greater part of it was lost to them, a
ioss that Iiad not afflicted her so much had she been aware that
they were all destined to die young.

One day, her niece Catlicrine, and her godchild Teresa, having
come to sje her, she, through forgetfulness, remained with them
two or tliree minutes beyond the specified time. For this breach
of discipline her mistress would take no excuse, and as a penance
she ordered Sister M. Catherine to kneel at the foot of the no-
vitiate table with her arms extended in form of a cross. Being
called away, she forgot to release her; and, on returning, moro
than an hour after, she found her novice in this most distressing
position, her arms gently undulating, however. Had she been
left a few minutes longer, she must have fainted. When next the
children came, she was ordered to read tiie Imitation aloud to
them for half an hour, but she was not permitted to say a word
to them. They returned not much improved by the pious lecture ;
and on their next visit, Mother Teresa entered the parlor, and re-
proved her sharply in their presence. Little Catherine began to
cry, and Teresa, unable to control herself, exclaimed : " Do, dear
godmother, come home from that cross lady."

"My child," answered the gentle sister, "if I thought your lan-
guage proceeded from any thing but want of sense, I should not
permit you to visit me again while I remain here."*

Tbcn, as if sorry for speaking so sternly, she took the little one
in her arms, and explained to her the necessity of humiliation in
the religious life. Teresa and Catherine were, howevor, too young
to understand what seemed clear enough a little later, when they
themselves became Religious.

^ From n Memoir written by tbo eamo godchild, a lioligious in tho Cmv^nt
of M«ro)', Baltimoro.

m
(, ■

166

LIFE OF CATHERINE JICAULEY.

Mother McAuloy, although she gladly received these liumilla-
tious herself, never inflicted similar ones. What could be done
with good effect in other Orders, she did not always deem suitable
in the Older of Mercy. She would not give a humiliation ia
presence of extcrns, or at recreations ; even the directions she do-
sired to see carried out in the schools or House of Mercy, she
would never give in presence of the pupils or inmates, so jealous
was she of upholding the authority of the Sisters in their respec-
tive oflBces and charges. Correction she usually gave in private.

On the second day of the Octave of the Immaculate Conception,
1830, the three postulants received the Religious habit. The Re-
ception was public, as is customary in the Presentation order.
Sister Catherine grieved to be obliged to resume the dress of the
world, even for a short time, but she submitted to the judgment of
others. She was careful, however, not to go to any unnecessary
expense, and would not even purchase a new outfit for the occa-
sion. She had been in mourning for one friend or another since
Mrs. Callahan's death, and as this excused her from mingling ia
society outside her own immediate circle, no additions had been
made to her wardrobe, save what the r.trictest necessity required.
A rich lavender brocade still remained, which was altered to suit
the present fashion ; and in it she appeared at the ceremony, a
white crape scarf almost coi!cealing her figure. Her younger
companions wore white, with the usual accompaniments of lace
and flowers ; the briglit orange blossoms nestled in their shining
hair, beautifully typifying the mystic nuptials they were about to
celebrate with the King pf kings.

The Mother Superior intimated that she wished them to assume,
respectively, the names of Teresa, Clare, and Angela, but Cath-
erine reflecting that these saints had been Foundresses, her humil-
ity was alarmed at the idea of associating herself to them, and
she entreated that she and her companions might be permitted to
keep their baptismal names, prefixing Mary out of devotion to the
Blessed Virgin.

A pleasant occurrence on the morning of the Reception shows
the virtue of our holy novice in a new light. Not wishing to put
the Sisters to any trouble, Sister Catherine obtained permission to

LIFE OF CATHERINE JiCAULET.

167

36 ImmiVia-

Id be done

jm suitable

miliation ia

ions she da-
Mercy, she

s, so jealous

their respec-

in private.

; Conception,

it. TheRe-

itation order.

s dress of the

c judgment of

ly unnecessary

, for the occar

r anotlier since

jm mingling in

ions had been

[essity reciuired.
altered to suit
lie ceremony, a
Her younger

[limcnts of lace

ia their shining

were about to

them to assume,
|ngela, but Cath-
•esses, her hunul-
|clf to them, and
be permitted to
f devotion to the

iKeception shows
lot wishing to put
led permission to

preside over her own toilette, and for this her chaste and elegant
taste qualified her. She had no sooner descended to the Chapter-
room than the Abbess condescended to become her tire-woman, and
rearranged her dress in the style fashionable wlien she left the
world, in 1798. Mother Teresa, whose experimental knowledge of
such vanities was less antique by a few years, dating only to 1808,
undertook to rejuvenate the style. Catherine, absorbed in prayer,
was passive under these varied operations, and quite indiflerent aa
to what the nuns improved her into.

The Religious were naturally anxious that their postulants should
look well at the approaching ceremony. Sisters Mary Ann and
Elizabeth had already undergone the disngreeable ordeal of close
inspection, and were pronounced "suitable," but the Abbess
found several faults with Sister M. Catherine's personnel. A
merry little postulant undertook to remedy these, but only suc-
ceeded in making bad worse ; and when she had accomplished this,
she quietly retired, leaving the novice-elect at leisure to pursue her
devotions.

The great bell at length summoned the postulants to the Chap-
ter-room, where the nuns, who were forming into procession, simul-
taneously lifted their eyes to assure themselves, by a last glance,
that all was right. But it was beyond the power of human nature
to look unmoved at the ludicrous spectacle, and, oblivious of the
solemnity of the place and occasion, not a few austere countenanca
relaxed into smiles. Catherine, unconscious that she was the cause
of this, smiled too, and only learned the ridiculous appearance she
made, when the Abbess sent her to rearrange her toilette, and
giving her carte blanche for the rest, cautioned her not to delay
the Archbishop, who had appointed the hour for the reception. At
the evening recreation, a full explanation of the affair was given ;
and while the merry laugh resounded through the old cloisters of
George's Hill Monastery, the nuns expressed their ftdmiration of
ihe serenity of Catherine, and her profound recollection, which pre-
vented her noticing the ridiculous improvements made in her ap-
pearance.

In after-life. Mother McAuley often spoke of the edifica-
tion she received at George's Hill. During her novitiate,

168

LIFE OF CATHKRINE MCAULET.

Mother Frances Knowd wa- elected Abbess ; but when the
Archbishop proceeded to confirm the election, siie Ijcsoiight him
to consider iier og:o and infirmities, and not to inip<}se so great a
burden on one so incapable of sustuining it. Ilis Grace confirmed
the choice of the Community. The punctuality of this saintly Re-
ligious, and the perft ction with which she led the common life,
avoiding every thing extraordinary, seemed to Mother McAuley
incomparably greater than occasional wondei lul things united to
less fervor and exactness. She had entered the convent in 1798,
and, during the thirty-two years of her religious life, she was never
once known to be absent from any exercise, and never once failed
to rise at the first sound of the bell, 5 a. u. She sufTiTed intensely
from inflammatory rheumatism, yet she always strove to wait on
herself, though it was painful to see the efforts she made. For
twenty years she filled alternately the office of Superior oimI As-
sistant ; but whatever office she held, her pre-eminent virtue wa-i ^he
only thing that distinguished her from the least in the house. So
entirely had she overcome a naturally fiery temper, that she seemed
insensible to every thing calculated to arouse it. Catherine, one
day, through ignorame of facts, made some remark that might
seem a censure on her arrangements ; but as soon as she learned
the real state of the thing, she ininiediately apologized. It was a
mere trifle. The holy Abbess received her with great sweetness,
told her she had not noticed the indiscretion, and added, im-
pressively :

" Never let any thing that docs not offend God give you the
least pain or anxiety."

The Humility of this saintly Superior was such, that if any one
praised even her needle-work or kuiltiug, she would instantly undo
it ; and the Sisters were obliged to be very cautious not to say a
word in praise of her arrangements. She dreaded praise more
than most persons dread censure. The motto on which her whole
spiritual life seemed to lean, was : " When you shall have done all
things, say, we arc unprofitable servants ;" and, as her humility
would no! allow her to think she had done all things, she regarded
herself as i wicked and slotlil'ul servant. Nor was the c> Ited
virtue of Mi)ther Frances an exceptional case in her convent or

LIFE OP CATHERINE MfAULEY.

169

jt when the
Iwsonght him
use so great a
•ace confirmed
lis saintly Re-
common life,
Lhtr IiIcAuley
lings united to
nvent in 1198,
she was never
ver once failed
ffored intensely
ove to wait on
ihe made. For
iperior ami As-
it virtue was ibe
the house. So
that she seemed
Catherine, one
ark that might
a as she learned
rizcd. It was a
great sweetness,
and added, ira-

iod give you the

, that if any one
lid instantly undo
ious not to say a
ided praise more
1 which her whole
ihall have done all
I, as her humility^
ings, she regarded,
• was the a Itcd
in her convent or

her Order. It was the rule to which we never heard of an excpp-
tion, although the piety of others may not have taken so austere
a torn in every instance. And this devotion exliales beyond the
cloister. It is quite remarkable that the poor children, educated
by the Presentation uuus, arc generally solidly virtuous, and sel-
dom fall away in after-life.

i n-: i mmijm\'mfi

CHAPTER XVI.

Caroline Murphy. — CnrolJDO, Princess of Wales. — Asersplii; death. — Exlraor-
dinary kindness of the Carmelite Fatlicrs.— New triuls for Sister Mary
Catherine.

DURING the year 1831, many trials befell Catherine. Her
spiritual children in Bajrgot-strcet having no one to restrict
them in penitential exercises, or to restrain them in their laborc
for the poor, undertook more than their strength was equal to :
the greater nurab.T of them were injured, and three became seri-
ously ill ; aud, in June, she learned that Sister Caroline Murphy
had not many days to live. The virtues and talents of this Sister
endeared her in a special manner to the young community.

" Her life was short and fair,
Unsullied by a blot,
And now she sinks to dreamless rest,
A dove that makes the earth her ues^—
So murmur not 1"

Caroline* was daughter to an eminent physician in the South of
Ireland. From infancy she was a child of benedictions. The
mortifications of the saints were her amusements, and her disposi-
tion was so angelic, that one would think she " had never sinned
in Adam." At the age of twelve she made a vow of perpetual
chastity ; and though her parents would not permit her to enter a

* Slio was called after Caroline, the iiiifortunato consort of George IV., for
wl otn the Irish, with tliat beautiful instinct so toucliiuff in an oppressed people,
evinced tlie deepest Kyinpathy. Kcjilectud and ill-treated from the period of
her arrival in England, t-he tiiially attained the degrading distinction of being
the first royal lady siibjocted to the ignominy of a public trial since the days of
Henry Vlll. Slio certainly experienced rallier unhundsoiue treatment from
"the most perfect gentleman in Europe." Deep as was the sympathy this ill-
futed queen excited, she compares somewhat unfavorably with England's royal
matrous at an earlier date, but Ler faults were forgotten iu her mibfortunea.

ctttli.-ExlrROT-
or Sister Mary

Lheriae. Her
one to restrict
a their labor?
was equal to :
e became scri-
troline U\n\M
3 of this Sister
lunity.

in the South of
Icdictions. The

and her disposi-
lad never sinned

)W of perpetual
lit her to enter a

of Gcorso IV., for

In oppressed pcoi'lc,

from tl'O pi^r'O'' °^

distiuotiou of being

lUa Bince the di'y« "^

Lo irciilmenl from

L eyniputliy tl.i» iH-

Ivilh England's royal

lier misfortunes.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

171

convent, they gave her full liberty to practise her pious exercises.
When she was seventeen her father died quite suddenly. He had
just given her a difficult piece, wiiicli, he said, he would expect lier
to play perfectly by evening ; but she had scarcely mastered the
preludes when a loud noise, in the direction of his chanil)er, at-
tracted her attention. On rushing to his apartment, she found her
worst fears realized. The unfortunate physician lay heavily on the
floor, not in a faini or swoon, but dead. This terrible bereave-
ment weaned Caroline more and more from transitory things. She
resolved to execute her ardent desire of entering Religion, and her
mother, who did not prttend to be a widow indeed, and who looked
on her lovely child almost as a rival, gave full con.sent.

Caroline was dazzlingly beautiful, and apparently unconscious of
the fact. It was quite disagreeable for her to go to any public
place, or even to church, on account of the admiration audibly
expressed, and the staring of which she was sure to become the
object. A perfect blonde, her beauty was more striking than
Mary Teresa's — the latter grew on you, the former dazzled you at
once ; and the external charms faintly typified the loveliness hidden
within. The casket was fair, but the jewel it enshrined was fairer
still. Her obedience was perfect, though, strictly speaking, she
was not bound to obey ; her penance rigorous, though slie carried
her baptismal robe unsullied to the judgmqnt-seat ; her charity
seemed like that of the just made perfect. She always chose tho
meanest occupations in the house, she was eager to assist every one,
she coveted humiliations, and dreaded the applause of creatures.
For about five months she continued her accustomed avocations,
though her lungs were hopelessly diseased ; but when weakness
rendered her unable to leave the room, she sank rapidly, and
breathed her last &a. the Feast of St. Peter and Paul, 1831. Her
death was seraphic. The chaplain and confessor, who were pre-
sent, said they never witnessed any thing like it. The Sisters who
had been witnesses and companions of her holiness, were incited to
new fervor when tliey beheld the supernatural favors bestowed on
the dying spouse of Christ. The life of this fair young creature
was a realization of the highest triumph of Christian asceticism.
The gorgeous, delicate rose which embalms the air with its exqui-

-.iii;;jtoViii I'i^^^ ''V'"^ iHiSi^iifetag^^'

^wiwteC^m

172

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

site odors is surrounded by rough moss and sliarp tliorns. Is not
this like spotless innocence guarded by heroic penance ?

The virtues of Sister Caroline lived in the memory of those from
whose society she was translated to her own bright home. The
force of her sweet and holy example was a most eloquent sermon.
Happy are they whose words and examples, remembered by those
who heard or witnessed them, contiimc to draw souls to God after
they themselves have passed away.

Who can tell how the maternal heart of the Fouiidress yearned
towards this dying child ? IIow many things, which only a
Mother could think of, would she have done to case her I And il:'
this precious child were iudeed to die, how many messages ..ould
she not send to heaven by such a saintly messenger I But she
cannot even have the mournful pleasure of closing the eyes of her
child. Th3 coffin-lid will cover that fair face, and the Mother may
not take a last fond look. The precious remains will be soon con-
signed to their kindred earth, and she may not unite with the Sis-
ters who chant the De jvo/undis. Mother and child may not
meet again in the body, till tliey meet at the resurrection of the
jnst, on the confines of a blessed eternity !

As there was no cemetery attached to the Baggot-strect
House, the Carmelites, with extraordinary kinchiess, offered a vault
in the Clmrch of St. Teresa, in Clarendon-street, as a temporary
resting-place for the deceased Sisters, which it continued to be till
1841, when, on the demise of the Foundress, the Convent ceme-
tery was consecrated. In the centre of this was laid Catherine
McAuley, and the dear remains of her children were brought
homo, and deposited around her.

In August, 1831, Mother McAuley learned that her niece Mary
Teresa was seriously ill, and that Sister Anna O'Grady's recovery
was despaired of About the same time, one of her two com-
panions, Sister Aima Maria, was attacked with severe hemorrhage of
the lungs, brougiit on by over-exertion in hei charge, Die convene
chapel ; and the otiier. Sister Elizabeth, became quite delic^ite.
So unceasing were the trials of the Foundress, that the Sisters
used to say, they could not point to a wet k, or even a day, iu
wbicU a ucw cross was not laid on her shoulders.

-— -rs*-

•ns. Is not

f those from
hoiue. The
iciit sermon,
fed by those
,0 God after

ress yearned
hich only a
er 1 And il:
ssagei -.(Ould
r 1 But she
e eyes of her
Mother may
be soon con-
with the Sis-
hild mny not
ection of the

Baggot-strcct
)ffered a vault
a temporary
uod to be till
!]onvent eerae-
laid Catherine
were brought

lier niece ^lary
ady's recovery
her two com-
; hemorrhage of
[fe, the convene
quite delie;>te.
hat the Sisters
even a day, in

CHAPTER XVII.

(Sister M. Catlicrino's Profession.— Ilcr return to Bnsgot-strcot.- -Her first lec-
ture.— Extrncts from her instructions.- Her nioilo of corrocliiijr.— Tlic office
of Superior.— How Motlier McAuley exorcised it.— One piirnKnipli Biifflocs for
rules un.l constitution fortlie Institute.— A generous rival.— Mother MoAuloy
combines the active and contcniplutivo live».— Intercourse with seculars.

AS the time of profession drew nigh, several of the nuns began
to entertain doubts as to whether they could conscientiously
vote for novices destined for a different Institute. There was
nothing in their rule which could guide them in such a contingency,
and the question seemed so serious, that the result of the final
chapter was any thing but certain. Now, if tlii.s community would
not profess them, what other would ? And why were not these
difBeulties started when the application to admit them had been
made ? That was the time for raising oijjections, not the present.
Catherine had recourse to prayer. " Not knowing what to do, I
have only to lift up my eyes to Thee, Lord," she said. " Site hunii)ly
laid all before her dearest Saviour," saya her Inst biographer,
"and prostrate nt the foot of tiie altar, she implored light and
guidance in this, the greatest calamity that had as yet threatened
her. She afterwards admitted the intcn.se suffering tuis trial
caused her, but resignation never failed her."

The Archbishop, having inquired minutely into the matter, and
seeing her patience and submission, informed her that if the Sis-
terhood should decline to act in this affair, he would profess her
himself. He also took upon himself the responsibility of seeing
that her property was disposed of as the vow of poverty requires.
For this act of eonsiderats kindness she ever felt moat grntefid to
Dr. Murray, as it obviated the necessity of making known to
persons not concerned the amount of her fortune remaining, or tho
manner of its appropriation for tho future Convent, House of
Mercy, etc.

174

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

In October, 1831, the nuns, who were unanimous In their opin-
ion of licr s:inotity, decided for the profession. As tlie l»me ap-
proached ill which she was to consecrate iicr riclies to God by the
vow of pivcrly, her licart by the vow of chastity, and her will by
the vow of oljediencc, her fervor redoubled, and the favors she re-
ceived from heaven amply repaid her for all her sorrows. After a
retreat of ten days, Sisters Mary Catherine, Mary Ann, and ]\Iary
Elizabetii pronounced the tliree vows of religion, according to the
Presentation form, with the proviso that the vcw of obedience
might include wiiatcver the Churcli should subsequently approve
for the Order of Mercy. Very Rev. Dr. Blake preached at the
ceremony, and after Mass conducted the newly professed Sisters to
Baggot-street. Tliis took place on th.o 12th of December, 1831 ;
and from tl;ut day is dated the foundation of the Order, though
the Institute had been in constant operation from the Feast of
Our I.ady of Mercy, 1827.

The Religious of George's Ilill earnestly entreated the Foundress
to remain with then a few days longer, and even pressed the Arch-
bishop to desire her t do so, but as his Grace referred the matter
to herself, she would not make an hour's delay, or even show her-
self at the dejiuner provided for the people who had attended the
ceremoiy. Yet she was tenderly attached to these nuns, and she
often said that, witli all its anxieties, her novitiate had been the
happiest period of her life. She was obliged to promise them that
she would visit them at some future time, if she possibly coi'l.
Eight years later she fuUilled this promise, taking witii her one of
the Sisters destined for the Ijondon mission, to gratify some of the
nans who were anxious to see "Geraldine." The fo'.towiug pleas-
ant passage refers to this visit. It occurs in ii letter dated Nov,
17, 1839 : " We visited dear old George's Iliil, and the afl'ectionato
uuns were delighted to see us. I essayed to embrace the old rush
chair on wliich I used to sit, but I kissed a grand new one in mis-
take. IFowever, I took back the kiss, as "ducky Mary Quiuu"*
would sr.y, and bestowed it on the right chair."

When they reached Baggot-street, on the morning of the 12th

* Olio of the orpliaiiB. Whunovc M. MoAuloy montiou* th«in, alio nlwayv
call* ihein by thotr pet namoi. ,

their opin-
le time ap-
yod by tho

lier will by
ifors kIic rc-
fs. After a
a, and ^lary
>rding to the
of obedieiico
:ntly approve
ichcd at the
3cd Siitors to
■mbcr, 1831 ;
)rdcr, though

the Feast of

the Foundress
sed the Arch-
■cd the matter
ven show her-
1 attended tho
nuns, and she
had been tho
misc them that
lOBsibly cot'l.
•ith her one of
fy some of the
oKowing plcas-
T dated Nov.
Ihc ufl'cctionato
:o tho old rush
cw one in mis-
aiary Quinu"*

ng of the 12th

Uiciii, ilio nlw»yi»

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

176

of December, 1831, they found the Sisters awaiting tlieir arrival
in the chapel, which had been handsomely decorated for the joy-
ful occasion. After the Te Deuni liad been sung, Very Rev. Dr.
Bialie addressed a few impressive words to the assembled Sisters.
" That was a joyful day in Baggot-strcet," says the simple annalist.
" Every face was radiant with happiness ; the Sisters, the children,
and the inmates of the House of Mercy, rejoiced at the thought
that they should no more lose their good Mother."

On Tuesday, the loth, the Archbishop canonically appointed
Sister M. Catherine, Superior. Findi' '^ that she could not avoid
the lo'^ponsibility of governing the young community, she entreated
his Gra-^e to allow her to be styled Sister Superior, or Superintend-
ing Sistc;', not Reverend Mother or Mother Superior ; bnt he con-
firmed her in the latter titles, saying that " there ought to bo at
least one Mother in every house."

The first public lecture she gave was on Obedience. She read
to her children the tenth chapter of Rodriguez' Treatise on that
virtue, which may bo regarded as ii comn)cntary on tho text :
" Ol)oy your prelates, for they watch continually, being to give an
account of your souls, that they may do this with joy, not with
grief." She explained the nature of religious obedience, the hap-
piness of always doing the will of God which the obedient soul
enjoys, and expatiated, in her concise, but beautiful style, on tho
example of Him who was obedient even to the death of the cross.
Mother McAuley's instructions were such that those who heard
them .lever forgot them. A Sister who hud taken some notes of
them says : " No jjon could describe the gentle, caliii, clear, and
resistless spint with which she spoke." She had the rare talent
of expressing a great deal in a few words, which rendered Iter lec-
tures the opiKisite of those thus pithily described l)y the witly
hcatlien : " Many words — little sense." Her manner was calm,
earnest, and uniinpassioned ; her tone, as became tho solemn hu1>
jects she treated, was nearly monotonous ; her illustrations wero
most happily chosen. She generally kept to one subject at a time,
U9 silence, charity, devotion to tho Hlessod Virgin ; and her instruc-
tions never lasted mor(> than about twon*y-live minutes. It is
deeply to bo regretted that tho incessant occupations of tho oarly

>■; '<

'■ ii^'-furi'' 'fl -^t>-^-[---^-^--"''fcJ-<i''*"^-**-^

176

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

Sisters did not allow them leisure to take more copious notes of her
beautiful lectures.

Look at the illustrations she uses iu recommending that quiet,
subdued exterior which she considered the fit covering of a heart
in which modesty and humility have taken up their abode. " See,"
she would say, "see how quietly the great God performs all his
mighjy works : darkness is spread over us at night, and light re-
luruH in the morning, and tiiere is no noise of closing shutters or
drawing curtains." And again : " How silently and brilliantly the
lamp burns away before the Blessed Sacrament when the oil is

Iiuie ! It is only when oil is bad, or mingled with water, that it
%V\\^ noisily. It is so with us. When we are truly holy, our days
are coiisumcd gently, noiselessly in His service ; but when we are
hurried, noisy, and talkative in our good works, the oil of charity
which burns within us cannot be perfectly pure."

She inculcated great simplicity of langi age ; nor would she pcr-
D\U nueli expressions as : " It is an age since I saw you," " I am
dtad with fatigue," " I have been dying to see you," and other
similar exaggerations. To a sister who had said, " I hate such a
thing," she answered, " Sin should be the only olycct of our
iiatred ;" and her beloved niece happening on one occasion to ex-
press too much anxiety about something she eagerly desired, the
holy Superior said, in her gentle, but irresistible manner : " My
child, the hopes and fears of a Religious should always centre iu
Qod alone."

When subjects entered who had pompons manners, she took ex-
traordinary pains to correct them. In walking through ihc house,
or performing manual works, she would not allow the least precipi-
tation iu the exterior. " We arc always Religious," she would
say, " and we ought always to ap{)car as such." She had a special
talent for administering correction. Sometimes she put herself ia
the same category with the offender. More frequently she accused
herself of the fault she wished to coiTcct in another. To a Supe-
rior who was too eager that some prelates should come to u deci-
sion in a mutter important to her house, her Mother wrote : " Thcso
good bishops take their own time to consider every little clrcum-
itauco, and persons iucliued to be impatient, like myself, might just

LIFE f ? CATHERINE MCAULEY.

177

notes of her

ig that quiet,
5 of a heart
'ode. "See,"
■forms all his
and light re-
ng shutters or
brilliantly the
lien the oil is
water, that it
holy, our days
t when we arc
oil of charity

would she per-

V you," " I am

ou," aud other

I hate such a

object of our

accasion to cx-

rly desired, the

manner : " My

[ways centre iu

rs, she took cx-
ongh ihc house,

ic least prccipi-
ons," she would

ic had a special
le put herself in
ntly she accused
ler. To a Supc-

comc to a dcci-

wrote: "Theso
cry little circum-
iiyiulf, might juat

as well make up their minds to await their lordships' conclusion
tranquilly."

A young Sister, who had a habit of walking too hurriedly, and
closing the doors very noisily, carac iuto the community one morn-
ing in her usual style. Mothci icAuley, witiiout raising her eyes,
inquired who came in last.

" It is Sister Mary E."

" Only Sister Mary E. ?" observed the Foundress, smiling ; " if
it were Queen Adelaide, there could nardly have been more com-
motion."

Tliis was quite enough. Sister Mary E.'s movements were al-
most inaudible iu future.

The Superior of a Religious community has a difficult office to
fill. Siie has to comfort the depressed, to restrain the impetuous, to
encournge the timorous, to assist all iu every emergency. She
must study the dispositions of each under her charge, and employ
all according to their respective abilities. She must correct, while
she may not lose her reverence for those whom she corrects, for
they are, or hope to become, spouses of Jesus, and, as such, are
dearer to Ilim than the apple of His eye. She must reprove, but
study to make her rebuke profitable to the offender. " Ho that
would injure a person cares not how lie does it," says St, Austin ;
" but he who dcsir. -; to cure must be cautious iu making incisions."
There may be in the same community — and there wcic in that
which Mother McAuley governed — Sisters who never lost their
biiplismal innocence, and Sisters who entered seared and wounded
witli pride and worldliness : some whose knowledge of • lie world
was bounded by a quiet domestic circle, and others who had reigned
for years queens of beauty and fashion in the best society ; some
who have only just been emancipated from the restraints of a
boarding-school, and others who have ruled their own fumilies ;
Bomc who scarcely know what sin is, and others whom experience
has convinced tliat mortals are not impeccable. What foresiglit,
wliat wisdom, what charity, wliat intuitive knowicdne of chnracter
are required to govern persons of such vari' d dispositions, to com-
bine elements so diverse, and make the combination tend to the
glory of God and the good o' the Institute I The visible Head of

''-a '

'1 1

•iJu^

178

LIFE OF CATHERINE Mf^AULET.

the Churcb styles himself " Servant of the servants of Christ."
These Avords explain the oflicc of every good Superior.

Every quality, natural and supernatural, necessary for governing
well was found in Mother McAuley. In her the afl'ection of a
Mother was blended with the vigilance of tlie Superior. Iler gov-
ernment combined " love without remissness, vigor without sharp-
ness." Her life was a living rule ; and if she exhorted her chil-
dren to obey like Jesus, s!ie herself was careful to command like
Mary. She had a way of appealing to the better qualities of those
under her charge ; and she trusted them so entirely, that they often
said they could not have the heart to disappoint her confidence.
In every department she adopted the same plan ; and if, among
five hundred bad qualities in a child or servant, there was one
good one, she would seize the good one and work upon it, dissem-
bling her knowledge of the bad ones.

The Rule and Constitutions not yet having been prepared, she
asked the Archbishop what the Sisters should observe for the
present. His Grace pointed to the Presentation Rule on Charity,
remarking that it would suffice. And so it did. Whence, Re-
ligious who complain of not finding their rules copious and definite
enough to point out the exact way in every emergency may take a
lesson. The fault is not in the rule, but in themselves. Where
people are seriously and honestly bent on working out their perfec-
tion, they are more eager to obey a rule than to look for defects
in it. For several years after its foundation, the Order of Mercy
had no rule, but one short paragraph on Charity ; and yet it is to
tills period of its existence that its children must ever chiefly look
for the most accomplished models of the perfection of their state ;
this was its golden age.

Had Mother McAuley's business been to legislate for the active
life alone, or the contemplative life alone, her task had been easy.
Rut to combine both in so intimate a manner tiiat the contem-
plative should not suffer from tlie nctive, nor the active from the
contemplative ; — to make rules which alike should hinder the mem-
bers from being so captivated with the dtlights of coii(eiiiplation
as to become weary of action, and from applying to exterior works
Bo as to neglect their Qwn appointed spiritual exercises — this wta

LIPK OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

179

ts of Christ."
)r.

' tor governing

affection of a

ior. Her gov-

witlioiit sharp-

orted her chil-

commaud like

lalitics of those

that they often

her confidence.

and if, among

there was one

upon it, dissem-

a prepared, she
jbserve for the
.ale on Charity,
. Whence, Re-
ious and definite
>ncy may take a
iselves. Where
out their perfec-
look for defects
Order of Mercy
and yet it is to
ever chiefly look
n of their state ;

ite for the active
ii had been easy,
hat the contem-
1 active from the
1 hinder the raem-
of cotitemplation
to exterior works
:erci(ws — this waa

no easy task. At that very time, a noble English lady, who had
often revolved in mind the possibility of tliis, feared to make the
experiment, but when she heard it was already done, she joined the
Order of Mercy, having previously written :

" I am happy to imitate that holy man who, for years, had been
endeavoring to form a congregation of religious men who should
be missionaries, teachers and divines ; but who, when he heard that
St. Ignatius had founded the Society of Jesus, blessed God that
another had been found more worthy than he to accomplish that
good work for the greater glory of God !''

The duties of the Sisters biuJing them to hold intercourse with
the world, Mother McAuley made regulations calculated to render
that intercourse profitable to all parties. In the first place, she
prohibited unnecessary intercourse, and in the next, she gave
rule and measure for wnat necessity or charity justified. The in-
tercour. 'hich came ui-.der the head of business included chiefly
the servants, offices, the school department, and the meeting of
such benevolent ladies as assisted the works of charity, reported
such cases of danger and distress as came under their observation,
etc. The instructions she gave to the Religious at the head of
each department may be summed up in these words :

" Be ever polite and gracious, but come to the point as soon as
possible, and beware of wasting a moment of time. Act in such
a manner that, whoever holds intercourse with you, may be re-
minded of some passage in the life of our Lord. Think how the
Mother of God would comport herself in such an emergency, and
then you will see how His spouse ought to act."

As to the visits of friendship made by seculars, she curtailed the
length of these to a quarter of an hour, each Sister being obliged
to bring her watch or quarter-glass. Her iastructioos on this head
may be thu' summed up :

" Take g -eat care never to manifest the slightest interest in fash-
ionable or political news, and be sure that your friends do not karo
you without reaping some benefit from the interview."

When it was represented that some ladies might be offended if
the Sisters would stay with them only a quarter, she could not be
convinced that well-bred persona would <jver be displeased with

r\
■it

■^1

'U. I .. -JiU

fS"^

mfat

180

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCaULEY.

Religious for kcepiiifi^ tlicir rules. She was of opinion that it was
uot l)y obscviiiij; their rules, but by breaking them, tlmt Religious
give oiTeiice, wiiliiu or without. However, tl.o regulation as to
the leii^tli of visits of seculars was relaxed in favor of near rela-
tions, benefactors of the Order, and persons in affliction ; but even
in the«c cases, special permission should be obtained to jiroiong the
time one monieut. The Sisters were directed to remind their vis-
itors seasonably of some pious confraternity or devotion, to interest
them in works of mercy, to obtain their aid in disposing of work
for the poor, etc.

These wise regulations precluded the very possibility of the lam-
entable abuses of which intercourse with seculars has often been
so productive to Religious. On this subject the Foundress fre-
quently expatiated, for she regarded it as of immense importance.
To act in a manner calculated to lower tlie religious state before
the world, was in her eyes a sacrilege : it was a fault for wiiich she
would take no excuse, for she rightly regarded it as most injurious
to the glory of God. To a Sister who said, in excuse for some-
thing that had given slight dissatisfaction, " I did not recollect,"
she said : " A Religious should be always recollected, every thing in
ber deportment should be calculated to edify, or at least not to
dis( dify." If a physician excused himself for giving a wrong pre-
scription by saying, " I did not reiollcct I was a physician ;" if a
lawyer, in excuse for some error in the business of his client, should
say, " I made this mistake because I did uot recollect I was a law-
yer," such excuses would be regarded as absurd ; even so, she
th ought it not only wrong, but absurd, for Religious to forget the
business of their vocation.

" Our nearest and dearest friends," said she, " expect to see a
decided change in our deportment after some months' residence la
a convent," and this she herself once Haw exemplified. A friend
of hers, having taken her, several years hofore, to visit a Religious,
when the visit was over, expres.sed great disap]K)intmcnt that her
lelative's manners were just the same they ever had been, and uot
iu the least improved.

■ • y jj^;',y, ! J -

I tliat it was
!it Ileligioua
lation as to
)f near rela-
in ; but cveu
) prolong the
ind their vis-
)n, to interest
isuig of work

y of the lam-
as often been
Foundress fre-
ic importance.
s state before
i for which she
most injurious
use for some-
not recollect,"
, every thing in
t least not to
a wrong pre-
lysiciau ;" if a
is client, should
:t I was a law-
; even so, she
s to forget the

;xpect to see a
is' residence in
Ged. A friend
isit a Religious,
itmcnt that her
d been, and not

CHAPTER XVIII.

The first Reception. — Costume of tlio Order devise 1 by the Fomulrcss.— Gen
enil end of nil Orders. — Special end of the Order of Mercy. — Mother Mo
Auley'a a^rangclnellt^» for the protection of di.ttresscd women. — Sho inHists
that they shiill he governed by mildness.— " A »liirt for the Lord-Lieutenant"
causes a little commotion. — ConLrast.s. — A soul rescued.

ON the Feast of the Espousals of the Blosscd Virgin, January
23, 183-2, seven of the ladies who had conducted the estab-
lishment during Mother McAuley's absence were clothed with the
habit of the new Institute, the Archbishop presiding. The ladies
received on that occasion were Sistt-rs M. Josephine Byrne, Mary
Teresa McAuley, Mary Frances Wardc, Mary Angela Dunne,
Mary M. Di Pazzi Delany, Mary Anna Carroll, and Mary Clari-
Moore. Three of these 1 idles arc still living (1866).

The costume the Foundress adopted for her Order consists of a
habit of coarse black serge or cashmere, falling in folds from the
throat to the feet in front, and lengthened into a train behind. It
is confined to the waist by a leathern girdle or cincture, from which
depend the beads and ebony cross of the Order. The sleeves are
long and wide, falling \r> plaits from the shoulders, with tight un-
dersleeves. The iiabit and veil are very ample, and of classic
simplicity in form. The gr.imp is a deep linen collar, worn in front :
the coif, an envelope of t'le same material, covers the head, and
partly conceals the face, being of a shape not unlike the quaint
head-dresses which the ladies of the first crusaders wore, in imitation
of the helmets of the soldieis of the cross. The indoor and out-
door dress of the Order weie designed by tl e Foundress. Tho
outdoor dress might, at that lii'ic, be worn by a secular lady iu
mourning, far as it is removed from the fashion of the present day.

And now, having brought our subject to the period in which a
new Religious family was added to those wliieh already decorated

::^

.;ai.;.,tifaia..^ljiifci.;

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCaULEY.

the Chiircli, it will not be out of place to glance at tlic general end
of all Orders, and the special ends of the Order of Mercy.

Convents exist in great nnnibers. In Italy, almost every beau-
tiful hillock is crowned with a monastery ; in the cities of Franco,
Spain, and Germany, one is found in every thoroughfare, from the
wretched faubourg to the shadow of the palace. In the large
towns of Ireland there is one in nearly every district, and the most
romantic spot in every suburb generally possesses the further charm
of a convent. The monastic cross towers aloft towards the sullen
sky of England ; and the monastery bells, at morning, noon, and
night, call those within reach of their sweet sounds to adore " the
Word made flesh" for man's salvation. In the United States, from
Maine to Florida, from Florida to Texas, from Texa? to California,
there are few cities without Religious houses. It would be natural
to expect that, as the.'ic institutions are so widely diffused, and, in
most instances, so actively* usetul, the real objects for which they
have been founded migho be generally understood. Yet this is far
from being the case.

Persons who havj read the " awful disclosures" of " facts"
enacted only in the vickedly fertile imaginations of the wretched
creatures who record them, wonder if " any thing good can come
from" convents. This class is larger than the boasted diflFusion of
common sense would lead us to suppose.

Of a hundred who read these calumnies, scarce one will see their
refutation ; hence these scandalous libels may be seen on the same
shelf with the Establishment Catechism, or Authorized Version, in
many a cottage in Old England and New If

Some suppose that the use of conventual establishments is to
provide retreats for persons who have met reverses or disappoint-

♦ Some Orclors, as tlie Cartluinian, Cistorcian, Reformed Cnrmelites, are not
actively useful to society ; but it does not follow tliat they aro not useful ia
other »oy« — liy tlieir prayers, for instance.

t Opening u book of diulogues lately, wo saw a play wliich mif(ht have boon
written by Marin Monk. We tliink tlie autlior, who hails from Massacjusetts,
might lay tlie scene nearer home than South America. If hu docs not believe
what ho writes, what a person to bo connectod w'.th education I If ho docs be-
liove it, it is easy to conjecture, since Fowl* is on iie title-page, what species of
bird b« most resembles.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

188

?npral cad
y.

very bean-
jf France,
;, from the
I the large
1(1 the most
•ther charm
is the sullen
', noon, and
adore " the
States, from
California,
d be natural
used, and, in
,r which they
ret this is far

of "facts"
he wretched
,od can come
diffusion of

will sec their
on the same
ed Version, in

ishmcnts is to
or disappoint-

nnnolites, are not
aro not useful in

I niiglit hnvo been

tlocA not believe
,1 If lio liocs b«-
0, wlmt species of

ments in the world ; or who have become weary of frivolity, and
wish to fiiul a quiet home ; or who desire to cultivate, without dis-
traction, thi; higher branches of li.cruturc, and enjoy tlie society
of a select and amiable few. Otii'}rs imagine that the good of
society is the only end of tlie Religious state.

Now, the first class ought to remember, that in a convent, whore
all are obliged to rise early, spend several liours daily in devotional
exercises, hide their individuality under a common name and a
common garb, work very hard, and perform many duties to the
public, there cannot be much opportunity of doing harm, even
should the will be not wanting. Neither has the world become so
immaculate that those who would do evil must needs fly from it.
Quite tiie contrary — people who preserve their " respectability"
may wander far from paths of rectitude, and yet not lose caste by
their aberrations.

Nor, yet, should persons enter Religion solelij because of the
frivolity of the world ; if that be their only motive, they will not
persevere long. Even the teaching of youth, the visitation of the
sick, or any other work of mercy, is not the main object for which
the Church permits Religious congregations to be established.
One might visit the sick and instruct the poor with immense zeal
and success without being a Religious.

The Catholic Church, the promoter of perrection, the fruitful
parent of virginity, sanctions the establishment of Religious Orders,
and protects them by her decrees, to give a home to such of her
children as, being zealous for the better gifts, are not content with
the observance of the commandments, but aspire to the perfection
of the counsels. The chief business of Religious, tiicn, is to strive
to attain perfection by the observance of their rules. For this
thoy are separated totally, but honorably, from the world ; for
this they have quitted happy homes and affectionate friends. " The
Lord tiiy God hath chosen thee to be Ilis peculiar people, and to
make thee higher than all the nations He hath made to His own
praise and Name and glory."

It is Religions who should prove to the world th.it the Gospel
counsels are not impracticable. Their piety should make repara-
tion for the ingratitude of sinful, thoughtless man ; their virtues

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LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

should impetrate graces for the universe. Wherever they reside,
they ought to be as the ten just men for whose sake God promised
to spare the sinful city. Whether they follow the aufj^ere rule of
St. Bruno with the Carthusians, or the mild rule of St. Augustine
with the Ursulincs, Visitandines, and Sisters of Mercy, their chief
duty is to attain the perfection to which they are called ; and
should they ultimately fail in this point, they shall have chosen a
very hard road to hell, as St. Bernard observes.

The chief end of every Order is the individual perfection of ita
members : the secondary end refers to the duties which these mem-
bers freely contract towards the neighbor, and which are specified
in their respective rules.

Now, this secondary end is always just what the Church wants
most at the epoch in which each Order mckcs its appearance.
Dominic appeared to combat the Albigenses, Ignatius t© defend
the Church against the storms of the sixteenth century, Vincent de
Paul to succor the poor, De la Salle to educate poor boys, Nano
Nagle to educate poor girls ; and when the fierce Revolution had
swept away nil vestiges of the Catholic schools of France, the
venerated Madame Baret established, for the education of the
rich and poor, her admirable Society of the Sacred Heart, — a So-
ciety whose labors in the cause of education can never bo too
highly appreciated, and whose pupils ought to be ashamed if they
become not, in after-life, " instruments to dififuse happiness arou.id
them."

The same Providence that gave these illustrious personages to
His Church and to His people, raised up Catherine McAuley in
her native land, just before the awful time? of cholera, and famine,
and godless education, to found the Order of Mercy, for the special
relief of the poor in their numerous and ever-varying exigencies.
The three objects principally specified it^ her Rule are, " the edu-
cation of the poor, the visitation of the sick, ana the protection of
distressed women of good character."

The Foundress built a hoOse for these women, of whom seventy
was the average number protected. Whoever reads the regulations
she made for this brauch of the Institute, cannot fail to be struck
vith her wisdom. The average period of their stay was throe or

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

vet they reside,
e God promised
aufi^ere rule of
f St. Augustine
[ercy, their chief
are called; and
U have chosen a

perfection of its
which these mera-
hic*'. are specified

the Church wants
IS its appearance,
gnatius to defend
entury, Vincent de
e poor boys, Nano
rce Revolution had
ols of France, the
B education of the
;red Heart,— a So-
can never bo too
,0 ashamed if they
ie happiness arouad

■ious personages to
[thcrine McAuley ia
iholera, and famine,
[ercy, for the special
[-varying exigencies,
lulc are, " the cdu-
ina the protection of

In, of whom seventy

Ircads the regulations

Inot fail to bo struck

eir stay was three or

four months. Daring this time they were instructed in their re-
ligious duties, and prepared for the Sa<;ramcnts, which tbey were
required to approach ou the first Friday of every month, and ou
all feasts of the Blessed Virgin. They were trained to laundry-
worlc, needle-work, or whatever else they seemed best suited for ;
and were told, they could expect no recommendation from the Sis-
ters unless their diligence deserved it. But the salvation of their
souls was what the Foundress chiefly had in view in this and every
other department. Thus she writes :

"Distressed women of good character admitted to the House of
Mercy, shall, if necessary, be instructed in the pi'incipal mysteries,
and required to comply with their religious obligations. They shall
be induced to repair, as much as possible, their past neglect, by
piously preparing to approach the Sacraments, conforming their
will to the regular discharge of the duties of the state in which
God has placed them.*

"Suitable employment shall be sought for, and great ..tre taken
to ploce them iu situations for which they are adapted, in order
that they may continue such length of time in them as shall estab-
lish a character on which they can depend for future support.
Many leave their situations, not so much for want of merit as
through incapacity to fulfil the duties in which they uuwisciv en-
gaged. They shall not be encouraged to remain long in the House
of Mercy, as in general it would be better for them soon to enter
on that f tate and employment by which they are to live."

Mother McAuley, to counteract a habit common among this
class of persons, directs the Sisters "never to allow them to speak
of the families with whom they lived, or to ask tbe reason of their
leaving their respective situations." Only the Mother Superior, or
a Sister appointed by her, was allowed to make the necessary in-
quiries on these subjects. The discipline was very mild, but very
strict. The women were obliged to keep the regulations, but
nothing was left undone to promote their happiness. Ou their
feast-days, of wMch the principal are, Christmas Day, tiio Feast
of the Sacred Heart, and the Feast of our Lady of Mercy,

* This, of cuurie, refun to cucli of tbe dtitroised womin u ue C»thoUas.

■^i

lit

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

Mother McAuley used herself to aid in decorating with evergreens
and Qowers their dining-rooms, etc., and, with several of the Sis-
ters, serve and wait on them at table. Severity in this department
was never permitted, or indeed required.

One day a young Sister, whose temper was none of the sweet
est, though she had some fine qualities which led the Foundress to
hope that she would grow gentle in time, came very angrily into
the community-room to complain of one of the young women v'ho
bad, as she said, wantonly spoiled all the fine work of a shirt
front. Mother McAuley looked at the work. '-

'' It is not so very bad," said she, softly.

But Sister Eliza declared that it was the worst sewing ever done.

" There is no hurry with this order, I believe," said the Foun-
dress.

*' Not the least," replied the Sister ; " she will have plenty of
time to undo it and make it properly."

" Then, my dear, you may remain here and do it yourself. I
shall send some one in your place to the House of Mercy."

" But," objected Sister Eliza, " would it not bo better to make
the girl herself do it V

" She will make the next, and she will do it better when she
sees by your work how it ought to be done."

There was no help for it, and the poor postulant was obliged to
spend her day over this "ither uninteresting work. Having learned
by experience that it is no easy matter to make a shirt for the
Lord Lieutenant, she was much more considerate in future.

Indeed, Tilother McAuley was never weary of impressing on
the Sisters the necessity of making allowances for all under their
charge. If Religious, with all their graces, and opportunities, and
early influences, are not always above the weaknesses of human
nature, thsy ought certainly make many excuses for these weak-
nesses, when more unpleas-xntly manifested in the poor, ignorant
creatures with whom they come in contact. Strange to suy^ those
who can hardly bear the least annoyance themselves, are generally
apt to bo most severe on others. And yet tho humble pnblican
has more chance of licavcn than tho proud pharisee ; and when all
things are taken into account, perhaps tho very best speclmeua of

'■mm^im- '

[ig with evergreens
several of the Sis-
iu tins department

none of the sweet
i the Foundress to
le very angrily into
young women v'ho
le work of a shirt

st sewing ever done,
ive," said the Foun-

I will have plenty of

d do it yonrself. I

50 of Mercy."

t be better to make

it better when she

tulant was obliged to
rork. Having learned
make a shirt for the
irate in future,
iry of impressing on
for all under their
ind opportunities, and
weaknesses of human
cases for these weak-
u the poor, ignorant
Strange to say, those
mselves, are generally
the humble publican
harisee ; and when all
ery best specimeua of

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

187

human nature are not, after all, so transcftndent, nor are the worst
60 despicable, as a hasty, uarefltcting glance would lead us to sup-
pose.

Look at the following contrast. It is a common one :
My parents were pious Catholics. The first words they taught
me to lisp were the holy names of Jesus and Mary. They told
me I was created for heaver, not for earth. They said the Divine
child lived in my heart, and He would stay there forever, if I did
not drive him away by being naughty. When I was ill, my gentle
mother used a thousand ingenious contrivances that I might feel
no pain ; when any childish trouble brought tears to my eyes, she
kissed them away ; when I was sad, she made me joyful. Before
I closed my eyes in sleep a fond father's hand rested in benediction
on my little head, and a loving mother's kiss sealed my lips. She
would tell me how God sent his beautiful angels to keep watch
over my slumbers ; and such was my implicit faith in her words,
that I could easily imagine I saw their beauteous wings of trans-
parent gold unfurled above my tiny bed ; and when I prayed in
the softest wlnsper, I felt that they heard me, Whether my
mother was noble or plebeian, lettered or unlettered, plain or
handsome, as che world judges, I thought not ; but to me she was
superior to every woman in creation, except my Mother iu heaven.
Whether my father was a yeoman or a laborer, a merchant or a
barrister, I knew not ; but in my eyes ho was all perfection, he was
the shadow of that eternal God to whom lie tauglit me to say,
" Our Father, who art in heaven." My education was finished at
home among these holy influences, or I was confided to the ladies
of the Sacred Heart or the Y isitandines, and there, almost m the
very sanctuary, these cloistered sponses of Christ tended with a
maternal care the sacred sprouts of virtue whicl were daily spring-
ing up. My mind was not cultivated at the expense of my heart,
and I was taught to store up useful erudition, and at the same time
keep my soul unsullied. And if, with all these aids and influences,
I am a tolerably good Christi'in, have I any room " to glory," or
ought my virtue to inspire me with any sentiments save those of
profound gratitude to Him who has thus prevented me, and fear
lest I prove an uafaithfal stewai*d of His gifts H

188

LIFE OF CATnERINE MCAULET.

Now look at another picture : ■■;

Last evening I strolled to the piazza, to catch a glimpse of the
gorgeous beauty of the setting sun. Lilac aud laburnum and
mock-orango spoke of the merry spring, aud tlic soft air was red-
olent of perfume. A woman, dressed in tawdry finery, passed
slowly on, the sight of whom broke most disagreeably on my sweet
rercric. Her coarse laugh grated on my ears, and a glance at her
rccklesB countenance sent u chill to my heart. Last night she
slept in a prison ; to-night, too, she will sleep there, or in a worse
place. Women and girls pass by, and the color unconsciously
mounts to the cheek of modesty ; they recede from the wretched
creature, because there is contamination in the very air that
touches her. She has placed herself beyond the pale of human
sympathy, and if any weep for her, they dure not hold intercourse
with her. Now, let us glance at her history :

She lost her mother before she knew her, or what is worse, she
was reared by a bad mother. An inebriate father beat his unfor*
tunate little one, and left her to starve or get food as best she
could. The miserable hut of a drunkard is not a very pleasant
place, and the child naturally took to the streets. No one ever
taught her to pray, a kind word was never addressed to her.
From her own experience, she was not aware that such a thing as
moral goodness existed — she had never scon any. Iler acquaintance
were all as bad as herself, or worse. Well ; shall m'c despise her,
or shall we weep over her ? Alas, had this forlorn outcast been
brought up with a small fraction of the care so lavishly bestowed
on us, the cold, damp floor of a prison-cell had not been her com-
fortless couch to-night 1

Compassion for the siuner, and gratitude to God who has
shielded us in so many ways, are the chief sentiments with which
the sins of our less fortunate fellow-creatures should inspire us.

In 1829 a circumstance occurred which confirmed the Foundress
in her determination never to allow the House of Mercy to be
subject to the interference of a non-resident committee.

Late one night, a violent ringing startled tlic few ladies who
then resided at Baggot-street House. When the door was opened,
a young girl, half stupefied with hungei- and fatigue, implored

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

180

jh a glimpse of tbe
aud laburnum aad
ic soft air was red-
wdry finery, passed
reeably on m; sweet
and a glance at her
rt. Last night she
I there, or in a worse
color unconsciously
e from the wretched
I the very air that
d the pale of humaa
not hold intercourse

or what is worse, she
father beat his unfor-

get food as beat she
is not a very pleasant
streets. No one ever
iTcr addressed to her.
3 that such a thing as
ii,y. Her acquaintance
; shall we despise her,
,s forlorn outcast been
3 so lavishly bestowed

lad not been her com-

idc to God who has
sentiments with which

3 should inspire us.

mfirmcd the Foundress
louse of Mercy to be
committee.

ed the few ladies who
n the door was opened,
aud fatigue, implored

shelter for the night, saying she had travelled a long way on foot,
and had no friends in Dublin. The wild glare of her large dark
eyes, and the disorder of her dress and hair, were calculated to
exirite unfavorable suspicions ; but, as there could be no doubt
regarding her distress, Mother McAuiey had a comfortable meal
prepared for her, and decided that she could remain till morning,
but apart- from the others, as appearances were certainly unfavor-
able, aud the Foundress was always inflexible in refusing to admit
to the House of Mercy persons of doubtful character. The poor
creature, after having eaten a little, told her name and story. She
had quarrelled with a harsh step-mother, and in tho excitement of
the moment, had run away, she knew not whither, from her
father's house. Regretting her imprudence when it was too late
to return, she Walked on to Dublin, hoping to get admission into
some house of refuge, and having applied to one, she was told she
had not the slightest chance for many days, as the Committee
received applications only at stated time?. The woman who gave
her this unwelcome information, moved by the poor girl's tears,
directed her to Baggot-street. Next morning, one of the ladies
recognized the wanderer as the daughter of an attorney who
practised law in a small town not many miles from Dublin, and
who had lately, to the great annoyance of his grown-up children,
contracted a second marriage. She was kept at Baggot-street till
provided with a situation as governess in a respectable family ;
but happily her father soon forgave her, and took her home.

When this poor young lady applied at the institution, her
despair had almost reached its climax. Had she been refused
admission, her body had perhaps floated on the Liflfey ere morning,
or she might have gained protection at the expense of her
reputation.

For many months after the opening of the House, its inmates
and the strangers who applied for work or admission met daily in
a large hall for instruction and prayer. Mother McAuley often
spoke of the honesty of these poor visitor?. As long as she kept
what she pleasautly called " open house," there was never any thing
stolen, except an old chair, on which she used to sit when instruct-
ing them, and which was probably abstracted as a relic by some

190

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

devotee wlio regarded its usual occupant as a saint. However,
as the number to be instructed increased, she separated the inmates
cntkely from the externs, to guard against the danger of admitting
persons of exceptionable character among the voung women of the
Uouse of Mercy, that being exclusively for such as bore untar-
nished reputations.

. *'J

lET.

'¥5?-

ft saint. However,
parated the inmates
darker of admitting
■. oung women of the
uch as bore untar*

•nth

CHAPTER XIX.

. ::'M

■:..>jiZ

■It

Visitntion of tlio sick. — How Mother MoAnley caused the public hospitals to
be opened to all religions bodies that chose to visit them.— The poor, the
middle class, and the rich. — Court life at VerKuilles considered by Madame
Louise to be more monotonous than conventual life. — " Good Queen Maude."
— The poor the treasures of the Chnrcb. — Anecdotes.

THE vkitation of the sick is the second object of the Order of
Mercy. The regulations for the projwr discharge of this most
important duty we shall more particularly explain when we speak
of that part of the rule composed by the Foundress. The visita-
tion of prisons and hospitals is also a feature of the Order of
Mercy, At the period of its foundation, no religious body in
Dublin was permitted to visit the public hospitals, though the
majority of the patients were Catholics. To remedy this, she
visited Sir Patrick Dunn's Hospital, the head phvEician of which
was her intimate friend. In the course of conversation, she took
an opportunity of asking if there would be any objection on part
of the managers to her or her iViends visiting the patients occar
sionally, for the purpose of imparting instruction and consolatioih
The governor, to whom this question was referred, courteously
replied that she and her friends were perfectly welcome to visit
the patients as often as she or they desired. The managers of
Mercer's, Madame Stephens', and other hospitals were of the same
opinion, and from that time (1828) all the Religious bodies who
chose to do so, have been allowed the privilege of visiting these
institutions, preparing the patients for the Sacraments, and assisting
them to die well.

Miiss McAuley took the precaution to make this request, not as
a member of a religious society, but as a benevolent secular lady.
She went to each hospital in her carriage, and dressed as became
facr rank in socit ty. This sbi) did, not from ostentation, but because

192

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCATJLEY.

in this instance she felt that the world could be best vanquished by
its own weapons. She never appeared in this style again ; but
where she presented herself as a Sister of Mercy, she required the
managers to keep their word, which they did. She was' very
anxious that the Sisters should have a hospital of their own, in
which the spiritual and temporal wants of the poor could be per-
fectly ministered to, and from which patients shouKi not be suffered
to go till their health was perfectly restored. She .aw, with grief,
that many poor convalescents were obliged to leave, and resume
work before their strength was sufficiently recovered. " Besides,"
she added, " though some governmeiit hospitals have comfortable
arrangements and an efficient staff of nurses, there is a great differ-
ence betv7een the attend M^e of hired persons and the services ot
those who devote theriselves to the sick for the love of God."
But it pleased Provideiice to reserve this good work for her sne-
tessors, and the arrangements designed by the Foundress have
been fully carried out in the monster hospital Mater Misericor-
due, in which are two hundred patients, all of the poorest classes,
under the exclusive care of the Sisters of Mercy. — See appendix.
In 1828, the Sisters bad the visitation of three hospitals, besides
an immense number of sick in their respective dwellings. The lanes
off the fine streets idjoiuing Baggot-strcet abounded with multi-
tudes of poor, while those in the Liberties were not yet wholly
explored. Mother McAuley was ever ready to make the greatest
sacrifices for the relief of the suffering and afflicted. Cases of pecu-
liar distress, or most loathsome disease, she always attended her-
self, and, for the comfort of the poor sufferers, she would remain
with them during the most painful operations. On one occasion,
being requested by a clergyman to visit a young lady who had
come to Dublin to have a surgical operation performed on her
knee, she had such compassion on her friendless position, that she
had her removed to the House in Baggot-street, where she nursed
her with maternal care. During the amputation, she remained
with her to assist and comfort her ; and she was all the more at-
tentive, OS the patient received all her care as a matter of course,
Hud did not evince the slightest gratitude. She even left Mother
McAuley to vav all the expenses occasioned by her illness, and

vanqnished by
le again ; but
required the
Slie was' very
f tlieir own, in

could be per-
Qot be suffered
aw, witli grief,
re, and resume
I. " Besides,"
76 comfortable
i a great dififer-
the services ot
love of God."
rk for her sne-
foundress bave
iter MisericoT'
poorest classes,
— See ajypendir.
ospitals, besides
ngs. The lanes
ded with mnlti-

not yet wholly
ike the greatest
Cases of peca-
■s attended her-
le would remain
In one occasion,
ig lady who had
srformed on her
ositiou, that she
?here she nursed
n, she remained
all the more at-
natter of course,
!ven left Mother
' her illuess, and

^"^r

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

mw9

these were considerable, as many physicians and surgeons held
lengthened consultations before the operation was performed.

The intimate knowledge of the wants of the poor which Miss
McAuley's associates gained after a few explorations of the garrets
and cellars of southern Dublin, excited their most tender compas-
sion, while it also led them to expect from those to whom they
applied .on behalf of such wretchedness, an amount commensurate
to the misery they desired to relieve. Sometimes they manifested
surprise that their petitions were not only refused, but refused in
rather unmeasured language. On such occasions. Mother Cathe-
rine would playfully remind them, that when they personated the
poor whose claims they advocated, they must now and then expect
to receive the treatment of beggars— followers of Christ, they must
share the fortunes of disciples. " The wealthy," said she, " have
generally but a very limited knowledge of the actual privations of
the poor, and even you yourselves have but lately gained any in-
formation on the subject."

Mother McAuley ofteu observed that the middle class seemed
always the readiest to relieve the poor, and the most forward in
every good work. " The rich do comparatively little for religion,"
said she, " and the poor cannot aflford to do much. The middle
class — I mean the upper farming class, small merchants, shopkeep-
ers, and the liko— i;i the most influential class. It gives the best
Priests and Religious to the Church, it gives employment to the
poor, it builds our chapels, it supports our charitable institutions.
When persons of that rank become Religious, their parents can
give them the means. Look, for instance, at Sisters M. Their
father paid theur rovitiate expenses, and gave them a thousand
pounds each, and he would not give them less. Now, there is
Sister W. Her father is of the upper class, keeps a carriage and
four, goes to the Castle and to court, and yet he will give bis
daughter only five hundred pounds, a sum hardly suflScient to cover
her expenses. All he has goes to keep up exterior show."*

Indeed, in many instances, the rich can afford to do but little for
the poor. Take the very highest class, those at court. They spend

• The Foundress mado the above remarks to tlio Mother Superior of tlio C«r-
low Conveut of Morc^, from whom we had an account of thorn.

LIFE OP CATHEBINE MCAULET.

!:■■

hours in frivolous amusements, — the Park, the opera, the theatre ;
later on, balls. The toilette consumes five or six hours daily
Night must be turned into day. Fashion is the most absolate of
rulers, and etiquette requires all this. "As we have our stated
actions to perform," said the royal Carmelite, Madame Louisa,
*' so have they at court, only theirs are much harder than ours.
For example : at five in the evening I go to choir — at Yersailles I
went to play ; at nine the bell calls me to matins — at Yersailles
I was summoned to go to the theatre. One never rests at court,
thoagh there is rarely any change in the monotonous circle of vani-
ties." New, if fashion requires ladies of rank, whether they be
nobly born or possess only the aristocracy of wealth, to dress sev-
eral times Qrday, to be present at the theatre and opera, to dance
till five in the morning, — and all this several times a-week, — hojf
much leisure can such persons have for God or His poor ?

There was a time when kings and queens wore instruments of
penance beneath their gorgeous state robes ; when royai hands
ministered to Christ in His poor; when royal bounty covered the
land with institutions for their relief; when the fair fingers of
beautiful princesses, and their noble maids of honor, wrought the
priestly vestments in curions embroidery ; when diamonds and pearls
were taken from the crown to deck the tabernacle : — alas ! that
time has passed away with the superstitions of the dark ages.
The world does not now admire such practices ; but let us never
forget that the same world "ice placed the garment of a fool on
the Incarnate Wisdom of the Father.

" Help me to perform an act of charity and humility," said "Good
Queen Maude"* to her brother. King Alexander of Scotland, when
he surprised her washing the sores of lepers. And when her courtiers
expressed dissatisfaction because she spent so much time with the
poor, she made them this beaatiful reply : " Our Lord himself ex-
ample gave for so to do."

When the heathen tyrant pressed St. Lawrence to deliver up the
treasures of the Church, the glorious martyr showed him the poor,
the blind, the sick, and the maimed, saying : " Behold the treas-

* Matilda, wife of Henry Beauciero, and daughter of St. Margaret of Sootlkod.

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

195

the theatre ;

hours daily
st absolute of
re our stated
dame Louisa,
.er than ours,
at Versailles I
-at Versailles
■ests at court.

circle of vani-
lether they be
1, to dress sev-
)pera, to dance

a-week, — ^how
poor ?

instruments of
en royai hands
nty covered the

fair fingers of
or, wrought the
londs and pearls
le:— alasl that

the dark ages,
ut let us never
nt of a fool on

lity," said "Good

Scciland, when

hen her courtiers

;h time with the

lOrd himself ex-

to deliver up the
ed him the poor,
;ehold the treas-

irgftret of SootlMid.

ores of the Church," and such treasures the world cares not to dis-
pute with her. The poor are, and ever will be, the treasures of
that Church founded by Him who has promised that He would
consider as done to Himself whatever should be done to them.

Indeed, the Sisters often observed that the faith, the piety, and
the resignation evinced by the poor might put to ahame many
who had better opportunities. Coarseness, ignorance, and that
roughness so trying to refinement were common enough, but re-
deeming points were numerous indeed The Sisters were accus-
tomed to say that if they went out to teach, they seldom came
home without learning something ; and the edifying occurrences of
the day often afforded matter for instructive and amusing conver-
sation at recreation. Amusing we say, for however pious the Irish
poor are, they never lose their humorous modes of expressing
themselves. Take the following as an instance in thousands.

Visiting an old man, the Sisters having consoled him and relieved
his present wants, recited some prayers suited to his condition.
Seeing the extreme indigence in which he lived, the senior Sister
naturally spoke to him of heaven, and said a few words calculated
to stimulate his confidence in God. The venerable patient looked
at her reproachfully. Evidently he did not agree to all she
advanced.

" J7ope for heaven, Sister ?" said he. " I'm certain of heaven."

She admired his confidence, but gently suggested that certainty
belongs to another world. But he was incredulous. His own
doctrine was more consoling, and he refused to give it up.

" Sister," said he, " when I was a boy I heard my mother (the
heavens be her bed !) telling how our. Saviour — upraise be to His
holy name I — said : Blessed are the poor, for tJusirs is the king'
dom of heaven. Jfow, I wa always poor, and I wished to bo
poor like Him, and since the AlL<ighty God made heaven so come-
at-dble, that it can be got for nothing, I'm sure of going there,
for He would not deceive me."

Did that "desperate lover of poverty," as Bossuet calls St.
Francis of Assisium, love his " spouse poverty" more dearly than
did this poor man, who, in firm reliance on that one word of Christ,
had suffered contentedly and joyfully fourscore years of misery ?

"•**■

lye

LIFE OF CATHEBINE M«AULEY.

Eminent charity, too, tlic Sisters fonnd common among the poor.
One day calling at the room of a lough-looking applewoman, they
found a girl of about fourteen in an advanced stage of cons'itaption.
There was an air of coniwrt about the apartment that is seldom
met with in places of that class. Every thing was scrupulously
clean. The orange and lemonade showed that the poor child's
physical wants were attended to ; for cheap as these little delica-
cies are, the indigent cannot always procure them. A few wild-
flowers gave the sick-chamber a cheering appearance, and glad-
dened the heart of the young patient, whose life was slowly ebb-
ing. Apparently, she was an only child, the sole comfort her
mother had in this world. The Sister supposed this, and consoled
the woman accordingly, but to bcr great surprise this was not the
case.

" What relation is she to yca, then ?" asked the Sister, thinking
that as the poor woman had sold nearly all her clothes to gfcitify
the child's fancies for various kinds of food, she might be glad to
get her into the hospital. But this poor woman, rude and igno-
rant as she seemed, had charity enough to embrace the whole hu-
man race as her brethren : —

" The child is nothing to me, ma'am," said she, " but the same
blood-relation we all are o?ie to another."

Alas, ov the judgment-day many a one who now thinks it much
to givo the crumbs from his table to his suffering brother, will be
put to tihame by the charity of that • poor woman, who choKO to
suffer cold and hunger rather than see one of her kind, one of her
eight hundred millions of " blood relations" in want of comforts I

From the prison, too, the. Sisters could gain edification. How
many could they comfort and instruct 1 How many could t'jey
prepare for the long-neglected sacraments ! And if some fell away,
would not a largo number persevere ? How many suffered, like
the good tliief, deservedly bat patiently, and accepted their suffer
ings as an atonement for their sins, going out to execution almost
as joyfully as the saints went to martyrdom ! Verily, God has
chosen souls in the most unlikely places.

One old man, with whom the sisters had frequently remonstrated
for appearing a little too often in that suspicious quarter, was bO

)ng the poor,
iwoman, they
consiiiaption.
lat is seldom
scrupulously
J poor child's
e little dclica-
A few wild-
ice, and glad-
as slowly ebb-
e comfort her
I, and consoled
18 was not the

Sister, thinking
)thes to gratify
ght be glad to
rude and igno-
B the whole hu-

" but the same

r thinks it much
brother, will bo
a, who choKO to
iind, one of her
,nt of comforts !
lification. How
nany could tbey
f some fell away,
any suffered, like
)ted their suffer
execution almost
Verily, God has

nlly remonstrated
quarter, waa bO

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

197

]]

well known to the authorities that they expected him at particular
times as surely as they expected wheat at harvest. As he knew
all the regulations well, he used to tell strangers the hour the Sis-
ters visited, and lend them his catechism, which he always carried
about him, though ho was " no scholar."

" Is it possible you a^e here again, James ?" said the Sister, a
little sternly, one day, to this ancient prisoner,

" And sure if I wasn't, ma'am, who'd teach these other boys
their prayers, and lend them the catechism ?" queried the zealous
" boy," for though the sun had daily risen and set on him for half
a century at least, he always called himself a boy.

The Sister suggested that he might more profitably exercise tho
apostolic functions elsewhere, hinting that, as a prisoner, his ex-
ample might neutralize tlie effects of his preoching. But James
insisted that he was a harmless " boy," who never did worse than
" take a drop," and when he did commit this misdemeanor, he
always took the precaution to lay aside his scapulars.

Donnybrook Fair was held in the ensuing week, and, as a matter
of course, the Sisters on their next visit found Jaraea enjoying tho
hospitality of the prison, and as zealous as ever, though somewhat
shy of being noticed. A few patches of sticking-plaster and an ar-
tificial black eye, eloquently testified that he had not contented
himself with being a mere spectator of the " humors of Donny-
brook." On the whole, his conduct seemed inexcuso ole, and the
Sister approached to give tbc venerable sinner a severe lecture : —

" Here again, after all your promises," said she, by way of
preface.

" Ah, then, sure if I wasn't here sometimes, ma'am, I'd never
have a chance of seeing yer sweet face, or listening to the ladies
at all, at uU," said the ready-witted rogue.

The youngest Sister in the community did not laugh more heartily
when such little anec'jtes enlivened tho recreation, than did the
grave, dignified Foundress.

Speaking of tho recreations, we may remark that Mother
McAuley was always the chief promoter of the innocent mirth
which enlivened them. Slie would sing a song, or tell a story, or
describe something she had seen, according as the Sisters asked

uMUM I 'IIW i i

198

LIFE OF CATHEBINE MCAULEY.

her, and she never seemed weary of their importunity. That those
who were not accustomed to conventual life might not 'ose time in
casting about for a topic to converse on, the following subjects
were suggested as matter for useful and edifying conversation : —

1. Any agreeable examples from the public or private lectures.

2. The life of some particular Saints, especially one to whom
there may be a growing devotion. j )

3. Something from the Annals of the Propagation of the Faith.*

4. Any pleasant occurrence in the Schools, House of Mercy, or
Visitation.

5. The virtues of deceased or absent Sisters.

It was chiefly at recreation that Mother McAuley studied the
Sisters' dispositions. In listening to their accounts of the pleasant
occurrences of the day, she sought to discover whether they were
" animated with that cordial love and sublime idea of the Insti-
tute," with " the most tender pity and compassion for the poor,"
which she considered so essential, that she places it among the
duties of the Mistress of Novices to impress these dispositions on
their hearts. The virtues of deceased and absent Sisters, too, she
loved to see the o'aers note ; for, while many things in the lives
of the Saints are more admirable than imitable, the sanctity ac-
quired by the performance of ordinary actions must ever be a sub-
ject of reflection peculiarly useful to those who mast work out their
salvation by the same actions. Any special instance of recollec-
tion or humility, as the following, was sure to be discussed : —

It happened that, while the Convent was greatly crowded, two
Sistcis were obliged for n time to occupy the same cell. One of
them, being appointed infirmarian, was desired to administer some
prescription to the other. Having taken the directions, she asked
where her patient slept.

" Is it possible you do not know?" asked the ex-infirmarian.

" I do not remember that I ever heard," returned the new " of-
ficial."

" Why, she has occupied the same cell with you these six weeks."

The new inflrmarian reddened slightly ; she knew that some

* Tho AiinniA of tlio Propagation of the Faith wore gonerully read at supper,
tlie New Teitameat at dinuer.

, That those
t 'ose time ia
wing svibjects
rersation :—
rate lectures,
one to whom

of the Faith*
of Mercy, or

sy stndled the
of the pleasant
ther they were
I of the Insti-
for the poor,"
it among the
dispositions oa
iisters, too, she
ngs in the lives
the sanctity ac-
t ever be a sub-
work out their
Qce of rccoUec-
iscussed : —
y crowded, two
e cell. One of
administer some
tions, she asked

■infirmarian.
?d the new " of-

;hc8e six weeks."
Icnew that some

rnlly read ikt supper,

nrrii nwi r- iwwi i

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULBT.

iii

Sister shared her cell, bat had never raised her eyes to see who
it was. This recollection was very edifying indeed.

Another of the early Sisters— whose name we may mention, for
she has ceased to be an inhabitant of this passing world — Sister
M. Gertrude Hogan, was quite a model of humility. Sprung from
an obscure family, which, however, was ennobled not only by vir-
tue, which alone is true nobility, but also by the brilliant genius of
her celebrated brother, Hogan the sculptor, whose reputation was
European, and whose chisel seemed destined to revive the glories
of the age of Michael Angelo ; she, with talents little inferior to
his, entered the Institute while yet very young. Her fervent piety,
^ and exact observance of rule, soon won her a higher reputation for
virtue than she bad already borne for tplpnc. She once acknowl-
edged that her ruling passion was pride ; but, during her whole
religious life, only one development of this was noticed. The fol-
lowing were the circumstances :

While a novice, she asked leave to apply to her friends for a few
frames in which to put some pious pictures for the ckss she in-
structed. When the frames came, they were unpacked and laid
on her desk in the Novitiate. At recreation, one of the novices
having asked her where the frames were got, she colored slightly,
and abruptly gave some evasive answer. An interior struggle en-
sued, and after a moment or two, resolving to conquer her pride at
any price, she said, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all in
the room, " Excuse me, dear Sister. These frames came from my
house ; and I am so proud, that I was ashamed to tell you my
father made them : he is only a mechanic, you know."

Some of the ancient historic families of the three kingdoms were
represented in that noviccship, but all felt that moment, and ever
after, that the daughter of a mechanic surpassed them more m vir-
tue than they surpassed her in worldly rank.
Among the subjects prohibited at recreation were :

1. Politics, as being entirely out of the sphere of Religious. Ia
the contests so frequent in Mother McAuley's time, she contented
herself with having prayers offered fur the restoration or preserva-
tion of peicc.

2. Every tiling calculated in the slightest degree to give pain.

200

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

3. Remarks springing from family pride, etc. ^

She never made any prohibition concerning conversation about
poor relations, sensible that nature is not inclined to boast o. hav-
ing sprung from a beggarman-of having friends in the poorhouse
-of having brothers who, for want of means, cannot take out de-
grees • it requires grace to allude to these things. She was ever
cautious to correct the slightest defects against good-brcedmg
knowing that such defects may lead to breaches of chanty ; and
she waa of opinion that a code of etiquette is almost more neces-
sary in the convent than in the world, for worldlings can cut
acquaintances who do not please them, while Religious, who cannot
go out to seek their society, must be particularly cautious to make
those with whom they live as happy as possible, especially durmg
the short interval allowed for unbending the mind.

We could say more on this subject, but we have said enough to
Bhow the care with which the Foundress watched that all, even the
mirth of the recreation hour, should be durected to God. Grave
or gay at prayer or at recreation, in the street or in the cloister,
Bhe desired that tae Religious should never for a moment forget
their vocation.

"W^

^mm

i Jir JW i

jation about
oast of hav-
ic poorhouse
take out de-
;he was ever
ood-breeding,
charity; and
t more ncces-
ings can cut
s, who canuot
tious to make
iccially during

laid enough to
,t all, even the
God. Grave
n the cloister,
moment forget

'■:»«?■

CHAPTER XX.

Mother JlcAuley's views on education. — The regulations she made.— CathoUo
and Kon-Calliolio educationists. — Ancodoto. — Pestalozzi, Bell, Lancaster,
Jaootot.— The Kildore-strcot sohools.— The National Board.— The ChristiaD
Brothorn. — Gerald Grifflu's grave. — Catholic priests inaugurators of gratuitous
instruction. — Education of the middle classes. — Effect the example of our
great educationists ought to liave on those engaged in education.

INSTRUCTING the ignorant being the primary end of the
Order of Mercy, the Foundress desired ^at nothing should
be left undone to train the young Sisters to the eflScient discharge
of this most laborious duty. Slie would have all study to become
acquainted with every improvement in the manner and method of
imparting instruction. Besides a thorough English education,
which she considered indispensable, the Sisters were obliged to
continue studies commenced before entering Religion, such as
music, which is necessary at Mass, Benediction, and Ceremonies ;
painting, useful in many ways ; and foreign languages, so necessary
for the Sisters who visited the prisons and hospitals of seaport
towns. The latter was, useful in another respect; "..o dearth of
ascetical works in English made it very desirable that the Sisters
should be able to translate, partially or entirely, some of the beau-
tiful monastic writings of the French, Spanish, and Italian authors.
The regulations Mother McAuley made for the schools were
full of wisdom. We have heard the most experienced of her asso-
ciates say that she never made a rule, or oflercd a suggestion, or
gave a direction, which, when acted on, was not a manifest improve-
ment. She advised the Sisters to obviate the neccs-'ity of punish*
mcnt by giving the little people plenty of light occupation. Cor-
poral punishment* she entirely prohibited, thinking it would not

• This rule was relaxed only in one instance- if a child was really known to
lay any thing immoral : in this case she thought some slight physioul paiu
ought to be inflicted, but she would not allow the Sisters to administer it

It !J

-r-^'.

203

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

come well from Sisters of Mercy ; besides, she desired that the
children should be attracted, not repelled, and she was firmly per-
suaded that the Religious who knew how to preside in the school-
room as she ought, would find little occasion for exercising severity
of any kind.

Religious enter the school with immense advantages over any
secular teacher whatever. Their Catholic pupils will have heard
Religious extolled as Saints a thousand times, and there are few
Catholic faruilies of any rank who have not contributed, per-
haps, theu" most amiable and best-beloved member to the lay or
choir department of some Religious house. Even Protestants who
send their children to convent schools, prove by that very fact that
they do not credit the wretched libels they hear even from the pul-
pit ; and their children as well as themselves feel for the Religions
habit a sort of instinctive reverence, for which the} cannot account.
Perhaps no one converses for the first time with a Religious with-
out participating in the same seutiment. But among most Catho-
lics, at least, to ict like a hero, to endure like a martyr, to pray
like a saint, and to be perfectly impervious to the assaults of pas-
sions, is held to be the normal state of Religious. Not only do
they regard persons specially consecrated to God as being above
human vices, but also above human weaknesses ; they look on
them &s impeccable, and uu.ionize them in their hearts at the first
glance. Now it is not our province to determine whether this high
repute is deserved. Certain it is that our predecessors gained it
for us — it is their legacy — it is our birthright ; we get it with the
habit, we inspire it when we enter for the first time the school, the
parlor, or the hospital. Others have to earn a good reputation —
wo walk into school with it ; our very dress assures the children

Tlio delinquent was, as we may pleasantly say, handed over to the » iciilar power.
One of the more ancient wr>inen of the Refuge wiis brought in to give her a slap
or two, in presence of the Sister, not so much to inflict corporal pain as to
evince, by the adoption of a special mode of punishment, the enormity of faults
of this nature.

Mother McAuley was extremely particular obout the moral education of the
poor. 81)0 know that their very poverty exposes them to temptations from which
the rich are shluldod. Tlie restraints of society may keep the rich in subjeo-
tioq, but virtue i» the only xpociflo for th« poor.

LIFE OF OATHERINE MCAULEY.

208

ired that the
as firmly per-
inthe fcchool-
cising severity

ages over any
ill have heard
L there are few
ntributed, per-

to the lay or
'rotestants who
t very fact that
sn from the pal-
»r the Religious
cannot account.

Religious with-
ng most Catho-
martyr, to pray
assaults of pas-
3. Not only do

as being above

; they look on
arts at the first
vhether this high
lessors gained it
3 get it with the
e the school, the
ood reputation —
ares the children

to tho MOiilar power.

in to give liar a slap

corporal pain as to

no enormity of faults

oral education of the
iiptationB from which
jp tho rich in subjeo-

that we are separated totally but honorably from the world, that
we might devote ourselves the more unreservedly to their educa-
tion, and that for their sakes we have broken nature's dearest ties,
and renounced forever the sinless charms of a happy home.

Religious, then, begin their labors with a high reputation. As
the old Roman, in showing respect for a Consul, said that he there.
by reverenced in his heart all who ever worthily bore the consular
dignity, so, when the Religious presides at her desk, the more
thoughtful of her pupils will regard her as the descendant and rep-
resentative of all the saints who have ever worn the Religious
habit, in whose footsteps she worthily or unworthily stands. Every
Religious gets this reputation before the world and before her
pnpils, but does every Religious keep it ? Alas I it is far more
difScult to keep it than to get it. Yet it would not be easy to ex-
aggerate the injury Religion sustains, when, through the fault of
its members, this reputation is lessened or lost. They injure not
merely themselves, but the cause they have vowed to advance, and
the Order whose habit they are privileged to wear ; and though
the sin may belong only to one, the penalties must be borne by
thousands. The end of education is not merely to bestow on chil-
dren a definite amount of knowledge — that is the least part of it.
Its main object is to fit children for earth without t/jifitting them
for heaven — to teach them to become in after-life " instruments to
diffuse happiness around them." But how few of those engaged in
the cause of education ever give due consideration to the many
things, present and future, that education has to deal with I

Stand on the threshold of an infant school and look at the shin-
ing faces of its fourscore joyous children Happiness, the happi-
ness of innocence, beams on their fresh countenances ; nor will yoa
look in vain among their cherub forms for blooming beauty and
perfect symmetry. Few can gaze on them without becoming for
the moment poets or philosophers. And still fewer can look in
imagination at the pictures they will present some thirty years
hence, without heaving a sigh, and perhaps thinking that those
destined to pass out of life before sin contaminates their souls or
sorrow crushes their hearts, are, so far as we can see, tho htq)picst
of the group.

L-i

'■••^m^-

mtsmmis

204

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

Yes, there is in the destiny of every one of them an amonnt of
mental and bodily suffering whicli, did it not come by part and par-
cel, could it be been at a glance by her to whose lot it wlil fall,
vould suffice to shiver to atoms the strongest nervous system &nd
break the bravest heart. Every woman who reaches maturity or
old age has, as a daughter, to lose her parents ; as a wife, to lose
her husband or part from him by death ; as a mother, to lose her
childrec or confide them to strangers, — perhaps to w'>?k for their
support, and for their sakcs bear the frowns of the w^rld and seek
its deceitful smiles : add to all this, an amount of ph' sical pain the
thought of which might well make many a strong man tremble,
and the temptations and occasions of sin which are inevitable.
Only Religion, not a vague Religion, but something definite which
seizes on their very vitals, which custom, from infancy upwards,
has made a necessity as it were, can enable children to meet their
future lot as Christians. All historians have agreed in consigning
Herod, the infamous murderer of the innocents, to the gehenna of
history ; but those who would murder the souls of children, by
bringing them up without religion, deserve a place in a still worse
gehenna.

In discharging the great duty of teaching. Mother McAuley
used to sa} that Religious should labor as strenuously as if their
greatest efforts were necessary to insure any degree of success, yet
with an abiding consciousness that only God can fructify what His
servants plant and water. Religions instruction, of course, held
the first place. This she would have " little, but constant." Cat-
echism was daily heard in class ; about twenty minutes in the
morning were devoted to an exposition of some part of the Chris-
tian doctrine, and there were 8|)ecial iustractions, retreats, etc., at
stated periods, as preparation for the sacrameBts.*

* It is curious tliat almost every tiling of real merit in the educational workk
of non-Catholics is borrowed from Catholio educationists, especially FSn^lon ;
or, at least, was an old story among CulhoHos before it was " invented" else-
where. Some difference os to praotioal application exists, however. For in-
stance, a Mr. Abbot, of MassaohusettE, in his modest account of the admirable
means he adopted, and the success that blessed his labors, tolls us that he gave
religious instructions daily, but always upon such subjects as were common
ground with all his soholars, and thnt they were in the habit of consulting him

,n amonnt of
part and par-
t it will fall,
18 system &nd
i maturity or
I wife, to lose
sr, to lose her
'(,7k for their
r jrlu and seek

sical ptiiQ t^i®
man tremble,
ire inevitable,
definite which
incy upwards,
to meet their

in consigning
the gehenna of
of children, by
n a still worse

ither McAuley
nsly as if their
of success, yet
ictify what His
of course, held
instant." Cat-
minutes in the
rt of the Chris-
etreats, etc., at

educational work*
apeciully Ffindlon ;

" invented" elso-

liowover. For in-

t of the admirable

ells u» that he gave

as were common

of coumilting him

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

The Sister who presided in each school remained there from ten
till three, with a little intermission at noon. She did not generally
teach, her main business being to examine, classify, superintend,
and take cognizance of any misdemeanors, etc. Those who taught
remained from ten to twelve ; general instruction and recreation
occupied the time till a quarter to one, when the Sisters who had
been -on the visitation of the sick in the forenoon took the after-
'noon classes. Arrangements were made to give to each the sub-
jects for which she had most taste and could teach most success-
fully. Those who presided and those who taught were required to
make all th • arrangements out of school. If any thing seemed
to admit of improvement, she who was of this opinion mentioned

by word or letter on difllctiltica of conscience, Ac, he liaving invited them to
do BO. Should the admirable effects of Mr. Abbot's spiritual direction be all
that he describes in case of all his male and female pupils, still it seems to ns
that he ought not to recommend *'iis office as something which it would be
proper for all persons to undertake. It might liavo occurred to him that all
are not endowed with the liigh moral worth and conspicuous talents which se-
cured him such distinguished success (according to himself) in this difficult
business. The Catholic educationist, equally with Mr. Abbot, recognizes the
necessity of giving ohildreu an opportunity to unburden their oons^iencos, en-
lighten their doubts, &o., but directs thorn when and how to recur for this pur-
pose, not to a half-educated teacher who is hired for his acquirements in
grammar and mathematics, not for his tlioology, but to one who has the hu-
man learning and the divine commission necessary for undertaking the renpon-
Hibility of directing souls.

A Mr. Pago says that " no teacher of a public school has a right to force his
own peculiar notions of theology on his pupils," and yet holds, that " the
teacher is responsible to some extent for their religious training ;" but how to
give religious iustruetion or spiritual direction without displaying *' our pecu-
liar notions of theology" — if wo have any — is more than we can comprehend ;
those who recurred so frequently to Mr, Abbot did not surely expect him to be
the exponent of any one else's " peculiar notions" on the subject. Strange it
did nut occur to Mr. Page, that their pecuUaritiei in theology and every thing
else, are just the very things people cannot or will not avoid forcinff on othcm.

Another of these theorists will have nothing introduced in school but what
the pupils like, what they vote for. Ho will allow them to take up studies at
^.leasure, and to select what best plooscs them. The government he recom-
mends is hardly a limited monarchy, wliercas those who know young people
best, seem to bo of opinion that aa absolute monarchy, mildly adminixterod,
would be better, and that the rising generation are but too apt to meddle with
the province of the parent am.' \caoher, without getting a special invitation to

do BO.

206

,LIFX OP CATHERINE MCAULKT.

the matter to her immediate saperior, or to the Religious in charge,
and it was discussed at an appointed time and place. Mother
McAuley would not give a direction or suggestion in the hearing
of the pupils. She made linown her views out of school, and often
visited the schools to see if they were carried out fully. For a
long time she daily taught a class herself, but when the multiplicity
of her duties prevented this, she was a frequent visitor, and in case
of the onftvoidable absence of a Sister, she would take her place.
Thus she always had a practical knowledge of the state of the
schools, and was, therefore, able to make the most suitable arrange-
ments.

As the Lancasterian or monitorial system had, to some extent,
been adopted, several Sifters taught in the same room. Mother
McAuley always bore in mind that to do good to seculars, even
children, Religious must '.ct in a manner calculated to edify. But
as this is not always easy, she strove to obviate its difficulties to
some extent by confining their mutual intercourse to what was ab-
solutely necessary. Of six or eight Sisters who taught some five
hundred children in one room, only the Sister who presided had
permission to speak to them ; the others being restricted to hear-
ing the recitations, etc. They were allowed, however, and even
desked, to make any inquiries that charity might surest, such as
asking how the sick parent of some child was, inquiring whether a
child who had lately been ill, felt well enough to study, etc. But
these cannot be called exceptions, worthy as they are of being in-
cluded among the lessons by which children learn that most impor-
tant of all virtues, charity. On their admission to the schools, the
names, ages, and residences of children were registered ; an account
of daily attendance was afterwards kept, and the books containing
these items were exhibited to such visitors as desired to inspect
them. A register of first communions, first confessions, and con-
firmations was also kept.*

The slightest imperfection in the discharge of the school duties
at once caught her ever-vigilant eye. She thought that every
word, act, and almost every motion coming under the observation

* We are thus copious in detailing the arrangements of the FonndreM, in
the hope that they may suggtst many useful hints to the Cntholio teacher.

ms in charge,
ice. Mother
1 the hearing
lol, and often
:ully. For a
e mnltiplicity
>, and in case
ie her place,
state of the
able arrange*

some extent,
om. Mother
seculars, even
) edify. But
difficulties to
what was al>
;ht some five
presided had
cted to hear*
ver, and even
;gest, such as
ing whether a
dy, etc. But
of being in-
,t most import
e schools, the
an account
ks containing
red to inspect
ions, and con-
school duties
ht that every
le observation

le Fouadrew, in
)lio teacher.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

207

of children, ought to be most carefully regulated, that each might
be able to say to her class, practically at least : Be ye imitaiori
of me, as I am of Christ. She would have the Sisters study not
merely the present consequences of their conduct in school, but
still more the probable future consequences ; for, after all, it is in
the wear and tear of after-life, and not in the school-room, that we
kam whether children have been well educated or not. The fol-
lowing instance will show the immense stress laid on apparent trifles
when they had reference to the young.

A very young lady, just entered, was sent, perhaps to amuse
her, to the infant school to hear the little ones receive a " gallery
lesson." The Sister who gave this lesson having been called
away, asked the postulanle to keep order till her return. But
young as the " infants" were, they no sooner saw themselves under
the control of a stranger, than they commenced an uproar, which
she attempted to quell by some terrible threat. The novelty of
being threatened at all, stilled the commotion, and the young tyro
was not a little pleased at the success of her first essay in the art
of school governing. Soon, however, the babes began to whisper,
and as the lady had neither the power nor the will to execute her
threat, she contented herself with hinting what she might be likely
to do if she only had her spectacles to enable her to see where the
noise originated. At this juncture she was happily relieved of all
further responsibility by the entrance of the Religious in charge.

At recreation that evening she gave an amusing account of the
events of her " little brief authority." Some time after, she was
informed that, short as her administration had been, she had com-
mitted two serious faults in it : the first, in making a threat which
she had not power to execute ; the second, in feigning near-sighted-
ness. It was represented to her that these little ones might here-
after, in looking back on the scenes of that day, easily see that
she had menaced without an intention to execute, and their future
experience would teach them that, as her sight was very good, she
never wore glasses.

Mother McAuley fully subscribed to this wise rule of a groat
Christian educationist :

" Never deceive children, even in the way of jest, for they will

' ■* »L^aij!gsgM;atei^^

208

LIFE OF CATHEKINE MCAULET

naturally infer, that if their master is capable of misleading them
in trifling things, he may do it in more important matters, and eyen
in the matter of their religious instruction."*

In Mother McAuley's lifetime many improvements had been in-
troduced in the methods of teaching, among which was the Pesta-
lozzian system, which is very beautiful in theory, but not quite no
practicable as was once supposed. Henri Pestalozzl, like many
inventors, was somewhat of a visionary. The tale be wrote to il-
lustrate his plans obtained immense circulation, and wrought a
revolution in many schools. Lord Brougham, who visited hia
school at Yverdam in 1812, found the pupils quite expert, esp«-
cially nt mathematics, though they were taught entirely without the
aid of books. Some of his maxims are worthy of being recorded,
for instance this — " When you enter a school as teacher, see first
what the children know, and how they know it ;" or this—" Every
thing depends on reducing knowledge to its simplest elements, and
proceeding gradually." Pestalozzi's writings are well worthy of
the perusal of the educator.f

Other educationists of less note sprang up. Joseph Lancaster
and Dr. Bell disputed the honor of having invented the monitorial
system. Nano Nagle mentioned this system in her rulej before
these gentlemen were born. Lancaster had a maxim that savored
somewhat of steam : " Give me twenty pupils to-day, and I will
give you twenty teachers to-morrow."§ Then there was Jacotot,
who maintained that " every thing is in every person," if there is
only some one to develop it ; but if he managed to have all his
pupils attain the same proficiency in the same period, he accom-
plished this only by keeping back the talented ones, and giving
extra assistance to the dull ones. His favorite maxim was : " Re-
peat incessantly" — Bipetez sans case.

The oral system of instruction became, for a while, very popular.

• Venerable John B. De la Salle, Founder of the Christian Brothers.

t If Peataloizi't -works are not published in English, they would be well wor-
thy of translation.

t In the chapter on " the Schools."

§ Dr. O'SulUvan, of Dublin, shows that the Monitorial System may be
traced back to the days of Lyourgfus.

"HT

leading them
bers, and even

had been in-
aa the Pesta-

not quite so
i\, like many
J wrote to il-
id wrought a
10 visited his

expert, espfl-
ly without the
:ing recorded,
icher, see first
this — " Every
elements, and
yell worthy of

eph Lancaster
the monitorial
r rulej before
1 that savored

ay,

and I will

was Jacotot,
n," if there is
have all his
od, he accom-
les, and giving
m was : " Re-

, very popular.

Jrotherg.
uld be well wor-

SyBtem may be

)

LirE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

909

Its advocates entirely eschewed that saying of Solomon : " He
that getteth knowledge getteth labor." The pupils of this glorioos
day had nothing to do but to listen. The wonders of astronomy
and chemistry were detailed with perfect accuracy even by children
nndor seven 1 Knowledge was to be gained henceforth without
toil, nay, without effort, and the idea of gathering wisdom by the
midnight oil, however poetic, was regarded aj quite unprofitable
and unnecessary. But experience soon showed what common sense
'^icrht have suggested, that without diligent and persevering study
no one can become more than a superficial, or at best an inaccurate
scholar ; and the inventors of the lecture system were not, after
all, wiser than Solomon, as Mother McAuley soon perceived.

The Charter schools in Ireland, which had so grand a begin-
ning, made a very disgraceful exit, having been suppressed by the
very power that established them — not, however, till they had be-
come a perfect nuisance. They were replaced by the Kildare-
street establishment, which inaugurated an excellent system of
conveying secular knowledge. Thither Miss McAuley repaired
every day while her own schools were in course of erection, and
nothing could exceed her anxiety to learn every thing connected
with school discipline. It was not at first easy for her to gain ad-
mission, but she generally contrived to be accompanied by a Prot-
estant of rank, whose orthodoxy was above suspicion, and she
drove there, elegantly dressed, attended by servants, and with every
exterior mark which could show the woman of the world. For a
while the ofBcials imagined she was a Protestant ; but before they
discovered the contrary they were so taken with her gentle, win-
ning manners, that they would not prohibit her admission.

She soon perceived that numbers of the pupils were Catholics,
and, whatever the merits of the school were, it was no place for
them. The " Authorized Version" was daily expounded by Prot-
estant teachers, and ministsrs of every denomination but one gave
instruction at stated periods. Catholics left it without any love
for the practices forced upon them, but yet with a sort of contempt
for their own religion. She therefore wrote down the name and
address of every Catholic child in the institution, and in the sum-
mer of 1821, previous to the opening of her own school, called on

aiiJ^Ei^s".

■W**»'P?UT»WFMW/w#iR!«j'/„--; .

■:«;

r^r

«■

210

LIFE O'" CATHERINE M<'AULET.

the parents of each, and informed them that in future there wonld
be no necessity for them to subject their little on"-s to sectarian
influence. Indeed, one of her reasons for building her schools in
Baggot-street was the fact that children were very numerous in
that district, an(l totally unprovided vrith means of obtaining Cath-
olic education. A large proportion of the Kildare-street pnpils
were from th"? lanes and alleys in the neighborhood of Baggot-street.

The National Board of Education was established in 1832,
chiefly through the exertions of Sir Thomas Wyse and O'Connell.
The majority of the Irish Bishops soon patronized it, and Dr.
Murray and Dr. Whateley sat at the same Board as Commis-
sioncrs of Education. Almost every Catholic school in Ireland
became connected with it. Mother McAnley was one of the first
to perceive the advantages of such a connection. In a letter she
says : " We will place our schools under the Board, because our
children will improve much more when expecting the examination."
She did not place undue importance on secular knowledge, but she
felt that parf^nts would have a plausible pretext for removing their
children from Catholic schools, if these were inferior, in a literary
point of view, to other similar establiehments.

If Religious are not efficient ioachers, theii' schools must degen-
erate, their scholars will Fcek education elsewhere, and, for a liLtle
human learning, barter, perhaps, their eternal interests. Hence,
the anxiety of the Foundress that the Sisters should improve as-
siduously the talents God had given them. Teaching she regarded
as the chief function of the Order, and teaching requires continual
preparation. To visit the sick with advantage, kindness is more
necessary than learning ; to conduct the House of Mercy efficiently,
orudence, and a knowledge of household matters, are more essen-
tial than literary ability ; but to teach well, kindness and prudence,
though indispensable, will not suffice without the solid foundation of
a good education, and a judicious method of imparting knowledge.

The educational department in Baggot-street has, from the first,
borne a high literary character. Open to the inspection of the
government,* the gentlemen appointed to examine the pupilc, and

* Soe Keports made by .aspeotors of 3obook co the CoromiBsionera of £du-
Mtion.

e there would
;8 to sectarian
her schools in
y nuinerons in
btaining Cath-
•e-street pnpils
Baggot-street.
shed in 1832,
md O'Connell.
d it, and Dr.
d as Commis-
ool in Ireland
»ne of the first
In a letter she
d, because our
! examination."
vledge, but she
removing their
or, in a literary

9ls must degen-
and, for a little
urests. Hence,
lid improve as-
ig she regarded
quires continual
ndness is more
!ercy eflSciectly,
ire more cssen-
s and prudence,
id foundation of
tiiig kuojrledge.
B, from the first,
ispcction of the
the pupik, waA

n'lBBionen of Edii-

PK-"

LIFE OF CATHEBINE MCAULEY.

211

report officially on theur moral and intellectual progress, have,
without a single exception, borne flacteiing testimony to their good
conduct and general proficiency. Speaking of Religious as teachers,
James W. Kavanagh, Esq., late Head Inspector of Schools in Ire-
land, says : " In them, convents have a staff of efficient teacher^,
such as we cannot command for our other schools." This is only
as it 'should be. Schools conducted by Religious, who profess to
teach for the glory of God, and the eternal recompense promised
to those who instruct many unto justice, ought not to be inferior,
in any respect whatever, to those conducted by seculars.

The experiment of mixed educ ition has, however, almost proved
a failure in Ireland. In the cases iu which it was administered by
Religious it could not do any barm, but in other instances it might
easily prove a dangerous experiment. So long as the Church was
satisfied. Mother McAuley was content that the poor-schools ot
the Order in Ireland should remain in connection with the Board ;
but she hoped the day was not far distant when a separate grant
would be assigned for Catholic children. The Godless Colleges
may be regarded as a further development of a pernicious system,
which insists that pupils will observe silence about their religion —
the very thing they ought to glory in — and gather their theology
from a set of books made to suit every variation of creed,* from
the Catholic to the Unitarian, inclusively.

• How differently Catholio and non-Catliolio writers regard the question of
religious instruction, tlieir respective writings best show. Compare tlie rules
laid down by Venerable Jolin B. De la Sdl'fl, or the Uraulines, eto., with the
timid suggestions offered by Mr, Abl>ot, for instance. The latter gives, if we
remember rightly, two speciiiions of his mode of imparting religious instruc-
tion : in one of them he directs the pnpils to turn over the pages of their Bibles
and compare the relative lengths of St. Paul's Epistles ; he then explains why
IMrtwt is placed l^st, Jiomaru first, eto. It is unnecessary to remark that the
information he gives on this subject would not be considered orthodox by
Catholics. In his other specimen of a " common ground" instruction, ho tolls
his juvenile audience, that in making a vacation tour, he met at an inn, in a
remote district, a woman dying of consumption, who seemed happy, because,
as lie gravely informs them, she was a Christian t And he suggests to his fel-
low-toaohers, that should any thing so wonderful '!omo into their exporience,
they should, in relating it, abstain fVom all comment, leaving their scholars to
draw their own conolusions. What, then I Is a Christian woman a rara atit
la New England I Or do women in general cease to be Christians when at-

212

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

So far as this system regards secular instrnction, it is, -when
properly carried out, one of the best known. The school-books
are progressive, without beiug uonseusical, and were nci only
adopted in the schools for which they were written, but even
found their way into the royal school-rooms in which the unmeroos
princes and princesses of England received their education. Bat,
whatever may be their literary merits, the term Naiional applied
to them ia a misnomer.'*' Their whole drift and tone are anti-Irisb,
as well as an ti- Catholic. The series scarcely contains an allusion
to a Catholic Saint. The sketch of Irish history does not even
contain the names of Sarsficld. Q rattan, O'Connell, Shiel, etc.
The Biography of Poets ignores Moore, the delightful " poet of
all circles," and the pure and elevated Griffin, wlwse works have
become as " household words" in his country.

The educational works of the Christian Brothersf are thoroughly

tackod by coDfiuinption ? Wo liope not. But wlieu tlio gcntloman'B published
epecinions aro Bucli, wliat innst liU ordinary religious discourses be like I

Noii-Catliolica labor in the cause of oducotlon with a zciil worthy of better
results, but the most essential element of right education is wanting to their
plans ; and when wo see any really good ideas in their writings, they seem to
us almost like the stray beams of truth which found their «<ray iuto the mythol-
ogies of other days.

* In 1858, J. W. Kavnnagh, Ei<q., one of the ablest and most enthuslastio
promoters of education in Ireland, discovered some cases of prosclytism in
certain schools, which he imniodiutoly reported to the Hoard. Instead of
thanking the honest Head Inspector, the Board gave him to understand, that
if he desired to preserve it* good opinion, he must not notice so trivial a mat-
ter as prosclytism ; upon which Mr. Kavanagh, seeing he could not retain his
honorable post with a good conscience, immediately resigned. He afterwards
wrote a series of powerful letters on the evils of " Mixed Education" as carried
on in Ireland, using the Oorh Examintr,* the leading journal of the south, as a
medium of communicating his sentiments to the public. After this txpoii, the
patronage of the Bishops and clergy was withdrawn from the National Schools,
and strenuous ciforts were made, and are still being made, to procure a sepft-
rate grnnt for Catholic bduoatlon, as is given in most countries in Europe.

t Perhaps a still finer series is that entitled " The Metropolitan," by a mem-
ber of the Holy Cross Order. Most school-book writers lose sight of the fact
that In the systems of education now in use in English-speaking countries,
children are obliged to repent their roading-lossons so oHon that thoy ounnot
(ivold commlttipg them to memory. Now, a child should never be allowec' to

* Editor, Thomn* Croible, Esq. ; Tropriotor, John F. Maguire, Esq., M. P.

X —I

LIFE OF CATHERIKG MCAULET.

ai8

, it is, ■when
school-books
ere nc'« oaly
Bn, bat eren
the namerons
cation. Bat,
lionoi applied
are anti-Iriab,
IS an allusion
loea not even
ill, Shiel, etc.
tful "poet of
36 works LaTO

ire thoroughly

man's pnbl'iBhed
Bes be like t
1 worthy of better
wanting to th«»lr
ngR, tlipy ^eem to
into the niythol-

moBt enthnsioBtio
of proBolytism in
ard. Instead of
understand, that
so trivial » nint-
ild not roUiu hi*
lie afterward*
ication" as carried
of tlio south, OS a
tor lliis txpotif the
National Schools,
to procure a sepft-
a in Europe.
Utan," i>y a mem-
sight of tl\e faot
leaking countries,
n that thoy oonnot
iver be allowec" to

lire, Esq., M. P.

religions and national in character, in wl ich respect they contrast
favorably with the National school-books. The schools conducted
by that devoted body of men arc, perhaps, unsurpassed in their
kind. Those of Richmond-street, Dublin, and the North Monas-
tery, Cork, are well worthy of the notice of the educationist. In
the latter, Gerald Griffin was employed, as he pleasantly says in a
letter/ to teach the little boys of Fair Hill " that o x spells oxV
Few literary tourists pass through " the beautiful citic," without
visiting the grave of the author of " The Collegians."*

The evils resulting from the absence of a Catholic tone in the
school-book were counteracted, to a great extent, by establishing
libraries, and thus supplying the children with Catholic works.
Secular instruction being subjeci, to many changes. Mother McAu-
ley wrote no general rules on it, satisfiad that the Sisters would
adopt improvements as they were introduced elsewhercj- With

memorize any thing not worth remembering ; and yet, how can this be avoided,
if the very text-books abound in nonsense, vulgarities, and, not unfVequently,
Bometliing worse ? Having looked carefully through the Metropolitan Koaders,
we failed to observe any thing but what is useful and interesting, and, there-
fore, worth remembering. We know that some maintain that it is not possible
to write l>ooks at onco useful and interesting to the narrow capacities of small
children. Were this the case, bettor let them remain without books until they
are old enough to appreciate what Is good and useful. But it is not so. Canon
Bchmid conibinos utility and pleasure In his books fur ohildren : Mrs. J. Sad-
lier, to whom Catholic popular literature is so deeply Indebted, does the same,
though in a different style. And though Faber's " Talcs of the Angels" may be
understood by children under eight years of age, we should not care to see any
one too old to derive pleasure and proflt from Its perusal.

* In the cemetery of the North Monastery, Cork. A small stone, on which Is
engraved the name, " Brother Qerald Joseph Griffln," marks the spot.

t While enjoying on one occasion the hospitality of the Ladies of the Sacred
Heart, we perceived that their pupils wore required, before graduating, to read
a course Bolected from the best authors; and, in a few casual conversations with
their pupils, we were surprised at the correct taste and judgment they evinced
when d.jcussing the beauties of the English classics. Girls who have left
school are not always to be blamed for wasting hours over the brainless, sense-
less reading which destroys all taste for true literature ; this sin ought rather
be laid at the door of their parents and teachers who neglected to form and cul-
tivate in them a relish for solid and elegant literature, an ncquiiintance with
which is BO essential to 'iho upper and n.iddlo classes. But as the system of
education Is the same in all the Houses of the Sacred Heart, the pupils of these
admirably couduoted institutions will b« highly censurable if, having left kohool.

?^P{fflmP|||PPP lPi^B|^ ^:' ' ■' ^'^Bil^ liBMffTBfBjfflCT

LIFE OF CATHSBINE MGAULEY^

regard to religious instruction, which is always the same in mati;6r
and importance, she is very definite. Half an hour at least was
daily devoted to it ; each child was required to master the dicceean
Catechism before studying a higher one; the principal texts of
Scripture quoted in proof of each article of faith, and the prophe-
cies relating to the most striking events of oar Lord's life, ?ere
committed to memory. The daily oral instruction lasted about
twenty minutes in each school, the subject being supplied by the
four divisions of the Christian Joctriae, taken in order ; the course
would last about a year. On the approach of a festival, the chil-
dren were instructed on the mystery, or the Saint to be commem-
orated.

Mother McAulcy laid immense stress on the instruction of chil-
dren, rightly judging th<it a vast amount of crime is the result of
ignorance — not ignorance of mineralogy and geometry, however,
but ignorance of the law of God and the duties of Christianity.
Hence, she desired that the children should receive a thoroughly
Christian education* — an education of which religion is not a mere

they indulge in useless or pernioioas reading, after having their tastes so finely
developed and cultivated by the gifted Ladies who so abl^ superintend their
education, and who know so well how to fit their scholars for earth without
unfitting them for henven, that we are not surprised to learn that, in Europe,
princesses are sometimes numbered among their scholars.

* Compare the writings of Catholic and non-Catholiu educationists, and no-
where, perhaps, will you find the difference between the Cntholio and nil other
religions more strongly marked. The Catholic educationist not only gives re-
ligion the firflt r>laco, but brings it into every thing, making children literally
eat, drink, ; iy, study, " all for the glory of God and in the name of our Lord
Jesus." The non-Catholic educationist, if he have any definitt creed, which ia
■eldom the case, is apparently ashamed of it ; and if he happen to advert to it,
does so in a stealthy manner, as though it were something bad or dangerous,
and therefore to be approached with great caution. The Catholic educationist
not only ideulifios every thing elae with his religion, bnt undertakes his office
solely because of religion, and is witling to teach all other branches, chiefly be-
cause the faith of children might be endangered by study in profane literature
under such as belong not to the household of the faith. The non-Catholic may
speak of morality, but does not pretend to give any distinct notions of religion.
The Catholic, while admitting temporal prosperity to be a blessing from Ood,
and therefore lawfully to be desired, ever keeps before the eyes of his pupil*
that eternal prosperity which Is within the reach of all, and which is, for all, th«
one thing necessary. The non-Catholic regards poverty as a curse, and tempo-

•MSM

Hin

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

215

le in matter
it least was
the diccegan
pal texts of
the prophe-
i's life, were
lasted about
pplied by the
• ; the course
ival, the chil-
be commem-

iction of chil-
the result of

ttry, however,

f Christianity,
a thoroughly

I is not a mere

lir tostes 80 finely

superintend tUelr

for earth without

that, in Europe,

ationistB, and no-
olio and all other
jot only gives re-
ciiildren literally
lamo of our Lord
iU creed, which U
len to advert to It,
bad or dangoroui,
.hollo eduoatloniet
dertakes hiu office
inchea, ohlcfty be-
profane literature
non-Catholic may
jotiona of religion.
jleBsing from God»
eyes of hie pupilt
■hioh i«, for all, tht
curae, and lempo-

omament, but the basis, the sustenance, the essence, the insepanble
accompaniment. In her opinion, an indefinite religion wa 'jut
little use, even with regard to this world. Faith must precede
reason ; dogmns must be given as dogmas, not as conjectures ; the
lives of the instructresses must be practical illustrations of the
instructions ; every thmg bright, and good, and beautiful must be
called jnto requisition to impress the susceptible mind of the child
with love of virtue ; to cast arouid her holy and gentle influences
to which it will be a joy in after-years to revert, the very remem-
brance of which will ward oS temptation, and often make " the
fiery darts of the m^ost wicked one" fall harmless in theur course.
With these accompanunents, intellectual culture may be as high
as possible ; without them, it is like steam, capable of doing im-
mense good so far as its power is concernod, but likely to do tre-
mendous harm when it is not properly controlled. To polish the
intellect and neglect the hear^. is like putting a fine sword in t^^^e
hands of a man who has" not learned how to use it ; or, rather, in
the hands of a madman, who, for the novelty or pleasure of using
it, will care little whether he uses it to inflict injury on himself and
others, or not.*

lal succesB as the greatest of blessings, and ever seeka to spur on his pnpUa
with delusive hopes of attaining greatness, which tlie few only can achieve, for
the nir\jorsty in every country must bo " hewers of vood and drawers of water,"
laborers who niuNt literally " earn their bread by the sweat of their brow I"

* " A. Potter, D. D.," who will not publish without the approbation of the
Superintendent of Common Schools, (rather humiliating for a D. Z).,) in a work
intitled «' The School," tells us that " more has been written on the subject of
education within the last fifty years than during all previous time;" also, that
*' formerly, when writers treated of education, they had reference only to ' our
uoblo, gentle youth,' as Milton called them," and that " this was the case with
Milton himself." All the writings on the subject could not have come under
the Doctor's observation, else he had told ua that schools lupported by tin StaU
were established in Rome before they wore heard of in Scotland or New Eng-
land ; that the illustrious Saint Joseph Culasanzio, a Catholic priest, inaugurated,
in 1697, the noble system ot gratuitout inttruation, which his disciples carry on
to this day ; that a little later, another Catholic priest, John Baptiste de la Salle,
founded a Congregation for the same object, whose pupils now number nearly
600,000; but, of course, these men were behind the enlightenment of the pres-
ent age. ColasanctiuR calls his schools " pious"—" SouoUpie ;" Ue la Salle calls
hia " Christian"— "iiofc* Chritunne." Had both foHnd-»d " godless schools,"
perhaps Dr. Potter had hoard of them ; but, sveu admlttiog his sWosping as-

J-

piSSS«

■jijiiiiiiiiiiiirmr"""^""

216

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

Mr. Kay, in his work on the " Edacatioa of the Poor in Eng-
land," says of the educational system of the Christian Schools : —

" The Brothers consider that if they neglect to develop t/ie in-
teUect of their pupils, they cannot advance their religious edu-
cation satisfactorily ; they consequently spare no pains to attain
the former development, in order that the latter, which is the great
end of their teaching and of all instruction whatsoever, may not be
retarded."

sertion to bo true, the present state of morals would suggest to some, that there
may have been more written than done in the cause of right education.

" It is alleged," gays the same writer, " that notwithstanding the progress of
education, crime nnd immorality increase. If the present be compared with
any distant era of liistory, even the most brilliant, it will be found that the re-
verse is true (?). In the reign of Elizabeth, for instance, there were in England
from three to four hundred executions every year for capital crimes." To make
this comparison hold, it seems to us that he ought to define what constituted
«apital crime in tlie days of Elizabeth. At all events, its value is very much
lessened in our eyes when we consider that, if these States were still under
England, and that the laws of the good queen could bo enforced, the majority
of Americans should become either martyrs or renegades to their present belief.
When wo consider that denial of cho queen's supremacy in spirituals was a
capital crime ; that sheep-stealing was in the same category ; tha; hundreds
suffered solely for conseiencn' sake ; that Elizabeth scrupled not to murder her
guest and cousin ; that, whatever her talents may have been, ibusto is no woman
in history that con at all opproaoh her in cruelty, we shall not be surprised that
the number of executions in her reign is very great, especially as it lasted forty-
four years.

Again, he gives some terrible statistics of Spain, a Catholic country, with
quotations from tourists. People are pretty well agreed as to the amount of re-
liance to be placed on the statements of tourists. Ho might, however, have
given tlie following passage, which shows that every Catholio country is not
quite so bad as Spain : —

" There nre more murders committed iu Euglund and Ireland in the coarse
of n few montl)s, than throughout the whole of Italy in as many years."— jCotty
Morgan't " Italy."

Dr. Potter ignores the improvements made in educational affairs in Catholio
countries, else ho had told us bow Bome came to have " the highest educational
atandard, ont in Hx, that any State can reasonably hope to attain."

We hazard the opinion that in no Catholio country in the world, in present
or former times, would the Doctor find any thing approaching the state of things
lie describes under the heading, JVetent Statt qf tht Gommon School*, as existing
In the State of New York. In hastily glancing through his work, we oould not
forbear exclaiming, '■ \yhen the fk'ienda of the system apeak tboa, what will
its enemies say i"

-..U

Poor in Eng^
1 Schools : —
velop tJie irtr
'eligions edur
nins to attain
;h is the great
er, may not be

I some, that there
lucntion.

ig the progress of
10 compared with
'ound lliat the re-
3 were in England
rimes." To make
e what constituted
iluo is very much
g were still under
)rcod, the majority
licir present belief,
n spirituals was a
ry; thn'v hundreds
not to murder her
, there is no woman
)t be surprised that
y as it lasted forty-

holio country, with
the amount of re-
ight, however, have
olio country is not

reland in the course
nany years."— i«^y

il affsira in Catholio
highest educational
attain."

he world, in present
ig the state of thing*
n ScHmU, as existing
i work, wo could not
peak thus, what wUl

LIFE OF OATHEBIKE MCAULET.

This was exactly the view Mother McAnley took of this sub-
ject ; secular ipstruction she regarded as a means, not as an end ;
but as a means idsential to the ultimate object she had in view,
which was the salration of the souls of the children. Hence, she
rev]nu%d the Sisters to have a full knowledge of what they taught ;
and to refresh their memories, half an hour was daily devoted to
what she called " prepai'ing for school." The very text-books
written by non-Catholics contain many a statement which pnpils
should be taught to take cum grano salts ; and how can teachers
enable them to do this, if they themselves have to depend on the
class-books alone for theur information ?

Between the days of Nano Nagle and those of Catherine McAn-
ley, a great change had taken place in the educational aspect of
the country ; the prospectus of the former may provoke a smile
from the educationist of the present day ; the whole course of
secular instruction comprising only, " Beading, Writing, Needle-
work, and Spinning." She did not attempt to teach algebra and
conic sections to children destined to spend their lives in servitude
or indigence ; conchology and geology have no place in her pro-
gramme — even arithmetic is not named — girls who will never have
a larger capital than the week's wages of a laborer, can do all the
counting they require on their ten digits. As for music, a few
hymns to Our Lady of Sorrows, which might comfort them in the
troubles of after-life, were all they learned in that line. It was,
indeed, enough for a people just emerging from a second barba-
rism ; for girls whose fathers and brothers had a weekly custom of
wrestling for physical pre-eminence in the suburbs of Cork.*

In looking over the numerous conventual establishments in Ire-
land, the keen penetration of the Foundress saw that they were
all too exclusive. There were Ursuline Schools for the rich, and
Presentation Schools for the poor ; but no provision was made for
the middle classes. This was also the case with male institutions.
There were Jesuits for the upper classes, and Christian Schools for
the lower, while boys of a middle grade, who could not afford to
go to the first, and whom an honest pride would prevent going to

* Very Kev. Dominic Murphy, Dean of St. Finbarr's, Cork, in his " Meoroir
of N. Nagle," quotes the above edifying fuot from the (hrk RtrntmbraMir.

B li tiri i .,-

218

LIFE OP CATHEEINE MCAULEY.

the second, were unprovided with Beligioos teachers. To supply
this want, she desired that the Sisters of Mercy sliould open day-
schools for the midd.' j classes, in places where this necessity existed,
provided their schools conld not interfere with the prosperity of
other establishments ; and she opened them herself, as we shall
subsequently see, in Carlow, Cork, Galway, etc.

Perhaps no one person ever did so much for the cause of educa-.
tion in the lower and middle classes as did Mother McAuley ; but
then she seemed an educationist by nature, born, not made, as was
said of the poets of old. But no one could fail to become an ex-
cellent teacher, however dull her natural intellect might be, who
constantly labored and prayed so earnestly to become one. She
did not ask Divine Providence to work miracles for her, she put
hei* owu hand to the work, she applied to it as if the salvation of
the whole world depended on her exertions, and then calmly left
the issue to Him. And He blessed iier labor beyond her own most
sanguine expectations. She lived to see her Order conferring a
Christian education on thousands of the poor ; and to-day, if she
looks down from heaven on her scattered children, she will find
their pnpils to amount to nearly two hundred thousand — incluiiing
those of industrial, infant, and literary schools — scattered through
the British islands, North and South America, Australia, New .
Zealand, &c.

The men and women who have devoted themselves to the pro-
motion of education, the most benevolent of all projects, involving
as it does the temporal and eternal well-being of millions, are not
the property, though they may be the glory, of distinct nations.
Whether they toiled under the blue sky of Italy, like Angela di
Merici, or among the aborigines of Canada, like Mary of the In-
carnation ; whether they resign the insignia of a noble house, like
Giuseppe Calasanzio, or lay aside the trowel, like the royal-
hearted, rough-looking mason, Tata Giovanni ; whether they for-
sake friends and people, like Eliza Anne Seton, or the highest lit-
erary position, like the gifted, amiable Gerald GrifiBn ; whether they
spend their lives rescuing beggars from ignorance, like Edmund
Bice, or begin their work against terrific obstacles in a country
which had just dethroned God and deified reason, like the vener-

•8. To supply
»uld open clay-
;cc88ity existed,
e prosperity of
;lf, as we shall

:ause of educa-. ..
McAuley ; but
t made, as was
become an ez-
; might be, who
;ome one. She
For her, she put
he salrat/ioD of
;hen calmly left
id her own most
ier conferring a
i to-day, if she
en, she will find
sand — including
attered through
Australia, New .

yes to the pro-
ojects, involving
millions, are not
iistinct nations.
, like Angela di
Mary of the In-
loble house, like

ike the royal-
hether they for-

the highest lit-

; whether they
:e, like Edmund
es in a country

like the vencr*

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

219

ated Foundress of the Society of the Sacred Heart ; — they are
tmly cosmopolitan, they belong to the human race, they are the
real philanthropists, they are the true philosophers, they are the
very chivalry of Christian teachers. All who follow in their wake
must catch up a little of their enthusiasm. And if, in ga^ng on
the spiritualized features of Angela of B.cscia, as the painter has
transmitted them to us, or the mild bine eye of Catherine McAnley,
Or iVs genial countenance of Mary Anne Aikeuhead, or the sedate
and pleasing face of Eliza Anne Seton, we sigh to think that we
had not the good fortune to be pnpils of those who were gifted and
saintly in so high e degree, we may stUl be grateful to be among
their disciples, a.id their L'.es will ever remind us, "that we can
make our lives sublime."

Let us strive to draw onr inspiration from these grand n. jdels,
these glorious imitatorB of the Divine Teacher ; and in the hour
o' weariness and depression, when effort seems useless and hope de-
lusive, let us not forget that onr saintly predecessors in the great
work of Christian education passed through many a similar ordeal,
and yet achieved brilliant success. And if onr best efforts accom-
plish bat little towards eradicating the bad habits of our pupils,
and replacing them by good ones, do we not know that we labor
for a grateful Master, who recompenses, not the snccess with which
He blesses our endeavors, but the zeal and loving perseverance with
which we shall have toiled to increase His kingdom in heaven
by propagating the knowledge of Him on earth ?

>«%3.

fm^

CHAPTER XXI. .

New trials.— Death of Sister Aloysia O'Grady and Sister M. Elizabetli Ilarley.
— Besignation of the Foundress.— Superaatural joy at the death of a member,
always choraoteristio of Religious Orders.

A FEW days after this Reception, Mother McAuIey lost a prom-
ising novice, whose friends, for some reason now unknown, in-
sisted on her entering the novitiate of George's Hill. It was thought
that they took offence at not being invited to the Reception, but
this could scarcely be, for it was strictly private,* in consequence
of the illness of Sister Aloysia, whose death was honrly expected.
Though Miss Carroll was anxious to remain, the Foundress thought
it most prudent to restore her to her parents, and thus prevent a
storm injurious la the rising Institute. Miss Carroll was not des-
tined, however, to promote the glory of God and the good of the
poor in any other Order, for, after entering the Presentation Con-
vent, in compliance with the wishes of her Mends, she soon returned
to the Sisters of Mercy, with whom she happily persevered, her
friends making no further opposition to the manifest will of God.
Shortly after Sister Anna Carroll's departure, Miss Catherine
Byrne, the daughter of Mother McAuley's early friend, and her as-
sociate since 182*7, manifested some unsteadiness of purpose, and
soon left to enter a Dominican convent, in a manner and under
circumstances peculiarly painful to the Foundress. As this lady is
still living, 1866, we shall enter into no particulars of her departure.
On the 8th of February, 1832, Sister Aloysia O'Grady died the
death of the just. Among the virtues of this young Sister, charity
to the poor was the most conspicuous. Her life in the Institute
bad been so perfect, that her companions never saw any thing in

* So little were the Sisters prepared for visitors on that ocoasion, that they
did not even assume fashionable dress, as is oustomary at Beceptions. Some
years after, a postulant asked one of the " ilrst seven" whut they had worn at
the first clothing. " We wore cherry-color dresses, hlaek cherry, my dear,"
Was the reply. They were received in their postulants' dresses.

Elizabeth Ilarley.
leatb of A member.

iley lost a prom-
)W unknown, in-

It was thought
i Reception, but
* in consequence
lourlj expected,
undress thought
1 thus prevent a
)11 was not des-
the good of the
■escntation Con-
le soon returned
peraerered, her
5st will of God.
Miss Catherine
lend, and her as*
of purpose, and
nner and under

As this lady is
>f her departure.
'Grady died the
g Sister, charity
in the Institute
iw any thing in

oooasion, that they
Beoeptions. Soma
t they had worn at
cherry, my dear,"

BseB.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

muJULUam

221

her but what was edifying. She consoled the indigent with utmost
kindness ; their corporeal wants scarcely less than their spiritual
necessities enlisted her sympathy, and she never felt more happy
than when serving Jesus Christ in His suffering members. The
smoky lanes, dingy alleys, and close garrets of a great city were
more attractive to her than its parks and ball-rooms. The fatigue
induced by her immense exertions for the poor, from her entrance
in 1829, proved too much for her delicate frame, and as there was
no one to moderate her labors during Mother McAuley's absence
in George's Hill, she soon succumbed, consumption set iu, and in
August, 1831, physicians despaired of her recovery.

The Foundress, while at a distance, was overwhelmed with grief ;
she had just lost the seraphic Sister Caroline. One wound was
scarce closed when another was opened. She had, however, the
consolation of bestowing her tender, unceasing care on this dying
saint. Death was about to leave a blank in her little community,
and give it another advocate before God. Consoled by the pres-
ence of her beloved Mother and Sisters, fortified for the momentous
journey from time to eternity by the adorable Viaticum, reassured
by the last unction, which cleansed her soul from the most trivial
imiierfections. Sister Aloysia O'Grady calmly breathed her last ;
and no sooner was she laid in the vault of the Carmelites, than it
became painfully evident that Sister M. Elizabeth Harley was
destined soon to follow her.

Tb-: Foundress hoped that this excellent Religions would prove
a valuable auxiliary in consolidating the yonng Institute, but God
willed that she shoald aid it as an advocate in heaven. Whatever
inconveniences Sister M. Elizabeth suffered from incipient consump-
tion, she bore them in silence, and would have continued to perform
her accustomed duties till her strength completely failed, had not
her altered appearance created alarm. Every thing the most de-
voted affection could suggest was done for the dear invalid, but
she was already beyond the reach of medical skill. Since her re-
turn from George's Hill she had been assiduous in assisting the
dying Sister Aloysia, and had frequently thanked God for the
graces bestowed on that holy soul, whose fervor the acute pains
of a slow coucumption did not in the least diminish. After the

■s4,^*;ss»4H*""A'V''Vi*srtrj-.

222

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE Mt'AULET.

death of this Sist«r, her affectionate nnree remarked to e
novice :

" I have often thonght it a blessing to die of a lingering disease,
but now, if such were God's will, I shoald prefer my last illness to
be short."

God granted her desire. She was at Mass and Commanion
with the commnnity on Easter Sunday, thongh she died the fol-
lowing Wednesday. On Tuesday, the Foundress noticing that she
was trying to make her accustomed spiritual exercises, thongh un-
able to rise, said to her :

" My darling, don't say any long prayers ; just raise your heart
to God, and think of Him. That will be enough for yon."

" What proyers shall I say, dear Mother ?" asked the Sister.

" Oh, any little aspirations will do, my child," returned the
Foundress. " Suppose you say, ' Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, assist
me !' "

Such was the obedience of Sister M. Elizabeth, that some hours
later, on entering the infirmary. Mother McAuley found her faintly
murmuring, " Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," &c. ; nor would she use
any other aspiration without express permission. Before her death,
she suddenly grew better, and her sisters, delighted to perceive a
favorable change in one whose life was so precious to them, came
to congratulate her. Fearing lest they should fatigue her, Mother
McAuley sent them away, and said to the invalid :

" My child, close your eyes now, and sleep ; you must be weary."
The Sister smiled archly, and said :

" Now, Reverend Mother, remember you told me to sleep ;" bat
she " spoke of the sleep of death."

Mother McAuley remained in the Infirmary, but kept perfectly
quiet. After an hour or so she stealthily approached the bed : a
look assured her that Elizabeth Harley had slept the sleep that
knows no waking ; thongh the smile, induced, no doubt, by the sao>
cess of her innocent stratagem to obtain permission to die, still
rested on her wasted lips. The Sisters, who had not the consola-
tion of uniting in prayers for the dying, repaired to the choir to
chant the office for tho dead, and many a tear fell, and many a
voice trembled with emotion during the solemn chantmg of the

■■ - ■ mM.Mw i w>i i i. i aja i ip WV 9 K v-i^

UFK OF CATHERIKK IfCAULET.

jK)8

marked to r.

igering disease,
7 last illness to

ad Commanion
e died the fol-
oticing that she
ses, though un-

aise yonr heart
)r yon."
d the Sister.
" returned the
1 Joseph, assist

hat some hours
>und her faintly

would she use
efore her death,
I to pereeire a

to them, came
;ne her, Mother

nust be weary."

I to sleep ;" but

kept perfectly
ted the bed : a

the sleep that
ubt, by the sue
sion to die, still
lot the consola-
;o the choir to
11, and many a
shanting of the

consoling and beautiful liequiem cBterman dona ei Domine,
Few would have thought that she Mho headed the funeral proces-
sion was the most grieved of all, so bravely did she sustain her
cross, and so unselfishly did she devote herself to the task of com-
forting others. It being Easter time, she repeate(i in the refectory,
in tones of exultation' the Paschal grace : Hcec dies quern fecit,
&c^ This is the day the Lord hath made ; let us rejoice and be
glad. She reminded them that the trial came from Him whom we
should not only obey, but love with all our hearts, and insisted
that, in obedience to the Church, they should all " rejoice and be
glad."

Indeed, supernatural joy at the death of a member has been
always characteristic of Religious congregations. In some, there
is a beautiful custom of singing a Te Deum in thanksgiving when
one of their number is translated from the miseries of this life to
the glories of the other. St. Chrysostom tella us that the Religious
of his time received the news of approaching dissolution with
gratitude ; that hymns and canticles, not wailings or dirges, were
heard at their funerals ; and that when any of them departed this
life, the others were never allowed to say that such a one was
dead, but only perfected, consummated. When a Carmelite has
received the last sacraments, she is immediately congratulated on
her approachmg happmess by the rest of the community. It is
remarkable that in recording the demise of any of her spiritual
children. Mother McAuley ndver uses the word death. She records

it thus : " Our dear Sister is no longer an inhabitant of this

passing world," " has had, we hope, a triumphant entrance into
heaven," " has quitted this miserable life," &c.

Nine years after Sister M. Elizabeth's " departure for heaven,"
the Foundress noticed a young lady just entered the Carlow Con-
vent of Mercy, as bearing a remarkable personal resemblance to
her departed child. " I trui?t, dear Reverend Mother," said the
postulant, " that I shall resemble her in virtue as well as in coun-
tenance."

The Foundress turned her mild blue eyes on the ardent young
sister, and said, with a smile :

" Your case is not by any means hopeless, my child," but her

fi^%\

, itC; Wi ll M> il W »«W !««W! *' ' ' l-''u»| i l. i .» »l | illi l i . i J .

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULBT.

224

tears flowed nnbidden at the remembrance of her departed com-
panion, and she turned aside to conceal her emotion.

In concluding this chapter, we shall relate a little circumstance
which deeply pained the Foundress the day of Sister M. Elizabeth's
death. While attending her. Mother M<iluley was frequently
called to the parlor to confer with some charitable ladies who had
kindly offered to preside at a bazaar, to be held for the sick poor,
during Easter Week. On the 25th of April, a lady, belonging to
that large class which is more liberal of criticisms than of any
thing else, called, and delivered a pompons, if not elegant, dis-
course, on "the absurdities of Miss McAuley," who listened
hnmbly and without reply, and did not even try t'> put a stop to
the unpleasant scene, by informing her severe censor that a dear
Sister was at that moment dying in the house. God rewarded her
patience, for before the lady had been much more than an hour speak-
ing, she suddenly ceased ; and, touched by the patience and hu-
mility of the Foundress, and saddened, perhaps, by the tear that
glistened in her tender eye, she apologized for her rudeness, and oa
rising to take leave, left fifteen pounds for the poor.

■:i-- -.'■\

:---^t^l

wMfl.

•--■A

departed com*

le circumstance
r M. Elizabeth's
was frequently
ladies who had
r the sick poor,
y, belonging to
IS than of any
)t elegant, dis-
' who listened
put a stop to
or that a dear
d rewarded her
1 an hour spcak-
tience and ha-
T the tear that
ideness, and oa

'(t-i'l %'^'-

CHAPTER XXII.

The cholera in 1S82.— Zeol of the Catholic Clergy.— Excitement of the people.—
Mother MoAuIey takes charge of the Cholera Hospital, Townscnd-street.—
The garrulous nurse.— Extract from Dean Gaffney'g Memoir of the Foundress.

AT the time of Sister M. Elizabeth's death, April, 1832, the
cholera had just made its appearance in Cork. In a few
weeks it was omnipresent in Ireland.

Those who remember the first visit of the Asiatic cholera may
well shudder at the terrific recollections it awakens. Its victims
were counted by thousands, whole families were daily swept away
with fearful suddenness. Rich and poor, learned and ignorant,
young and old, were hurried to a common grave, almost as soon as
life left them, if not sooner. Against this deadly epidemic, youth
was no security, riches no guarantee, beauty no protection. "Via
sainted an acquaintance in the morning; you met his funeral in
the evening. You transacted business with a friend now, in a few
hours you heard of his interment. A neighbor called to have a
friendly chat; he takes lea\e, and behold, he has scarcely reached
your threshold, when his blackening face, writhing in paroxysms of
agony, gives you the horrible intelligence that the plague has
seized him. A poor man looks with pride on his beautiful child
to-day, to-morrow he lays a little corpse on the hideous cholera
cart, and soon the frightful contortions of his stalwart frame prove
that he in iff deadly grapple with the fierce pestilence. As this
dismal disease spread, the minds of some became so hardened that
compassion for the wretched victims gave place to un instiuct for
self-preservation, which tempted children to aborjon the couch of
dying parents, husbands to fly from plague-stricken wives, and
mothers to shudder as they bent over the cradlos of their sickening
babes I
No sooner bad the plague appeared, than the Archbishop prf^

'^.--^^int^mtttmif

226 LIFE OP CATHEBINE M^'AULEY.

sented himself at the Convent, on behalf of his suffering flock.
The Sisters knelt to receive his blessing, and then rose up and
made the Cholera Hospital their home. No words can describe
the zeal of the Foundress. Ever at the side of the dying, she
seemed " like an angel 'mid the vapors of death,"* whispering words
of consolation to many who had previously refused to be com-
forted. She would allow no one to be buried till she had assured
herself by personal inspection that life was really extinct, nor
would she allow the nurses to cover the faces of those supposed to
be dead, till a stated time elapsed. These were necessary precau-
tions, which probably saved thousands from a fate more dreadful
than even death by cholera. For in such a violent disease, ex-
haustion, produced by intense suffering, might occasion a tempo-
rary cessation of respiration, and give the appearance of death,
which, however, can occur only when " some organ, absolutely es-
sential to existence, is irreparably destroyed." She was very
severe with nurses who L-eglected the sick, or seemed in too great
a hurry to get rid of the dead ; nor did she spare some physicians,
who, undismayed by the horrors of the dreadful crisis, thought
only of the honor of discovering a specific against the pestilence,
and who, in their ardor for experimenting, seemed to forget that
their patients were human beings.

Brandy, laudanum, and heating applications were the ordinary
remedies, and the tired, sleepy nurses sumetimes evinced a pro-
pensity to solace themselves with the first ; but they soon per-
ceived they could not be guilty of the least intemperance with im-
punity. For a while, the deaths averaged six hundred a day, and
many of the patients had to be instructed in the first rudiments of
Christianity. It was sometimes di£Qcult to rouse them from the
stupor or lethargy which followed run 'tit cramps ; but the Foun-
dress and her associates were Uxc^S, iSi-^Me, they determined to
save the souls, if not the lives vf : jiak, and no sooner had they
instructed a patient than the sacrami^iu-; vere administered. Rev.
Mr. Carroll never left the hospital till tbo last vestiges of the epi-
demic disappeared ; and all the Catholic clergy vied with each
other in assisting the »ick.
~ * G«r«ld Uriffio.

-_■

iiiim iiiiOTiiWii»,-.in>imi;i|-j-|ffl;,ig7^

•}'»mgjs<»M'-m0m" *ii »*«»»—«■» i ■^' n> ■

LIFE O? CATHERINE MCAULEY.

227

offering flodc
1 rose np and
i can aescfibe
tbo dying, she
Ispering words
d to be com-
le had assured
y extinct, nor
ise supposed to
cessary precaa-
I more dreadful
mt disease, ez-
loslon a tempo-
'ance of death,
1, absolutely es-
She was very
;d in too great
ome physicians,
crisis, thought
the pestilence,
to forget that

re the ordinary
evinced a pro-
they soon per-
)erance with in>-
dred a day, and
rst rudiments of
them from the
but the Foun-
dotcrmiucd to
sooner had they
inistered. Rev.
iges of the epl-
vied with each

The ;>re8ence of the Sisters was of great assistance to the medi'
cal staff. The populace, under a general impression that the doc-
tors murdered all who died, at first not only refused to submit their
sick to medical treatment, but they watched the sick who were
being carried to the hospital ; and, after having robbed the cholera
carts of their miserable freight, broke them, and flung the frag-
ments into the Liffey. Even the venerable Archbishop and clergy
could not prevail on them to send their sick to the hospital. When,
however, the poor terrified people saw the Sisters of Mercy ac-
cepting and administering the prescriptions of the physicians, they
became satisfied, and in a little while their frenzy was entirely
calmed.

Protestant patients crowded to the Sisters, and most of them,
after waituig vainly for a visit from their own minister, begged to
be instracted in the Catholic faith. While Catholic clergy lived
in the crowded wards, other clergy could not be indnced to set a
foot in them. Indeed, if the ministers were self-sacrificing enough
to desire to fulfil their obligations to the dying, their wives were
generally ready to maintain that the marriage vows w^cre more
binding than the ordination vows, and the theology of the ladies
invariably prevailed. Once, indeed, when the beason was far ad-
vanced, a clergyman passed through the broad corridors, and
called aloud to inquire whether a friend of his, who was sent in
some days ago, were still alive. A nurse politely requested him to
come and sec, but a sudden panic seizing him, he fled for his life.
The nurse, who had a wonderful facility for speaking unnecessarily,
was painfully candid in expressing her private opinion of the poor
minister's zeal. Raising her voice to the squealing key, ns ho hur-
riedly receded, she gave him, to the great amusement of all within
hearing, a very uncomplimentary lecture, of which only tbo echo
reached him. ■ Patients, Just escaped from the jaws of death,
stretched out their heads with cars erect, to hear the one-sided ar-
gument, and convalescents tottered to the doors with similar intent.
The physicians could not preserve their gravity, and laughter was
beard for the first time in the dismal Cholera Hospital.

From Dean Gaffney's Memoir of the Fouudrces, wc make tbo
following extract, relative to her labors iu the Ciiolera Hospital :

-J^-

228

LIFE OP OATHEBINE MCAULBY.

" Bat the hospitals, where the cry of the infant was wildly
mingled with tl e moans of its expiring mother ; where the stoat,
strong man made the iron bedstead on which he lay tremble, as his
writhing frame quivered in the fearful paroxysms of his malady ; where
pestilence, in its most terrific form, pointed to the purple features,
clay-cold limbs, and whispering accents of its crowded victims, and
laughed to scorn the subtlest skill of the physician*— there, in the
very sanctuary of disease, what desperate devotedness would ven-
ture ? Even there was the Sister of Mercy, and not only to enter,
but to take up her abode entirely for months ; and, true to the ex-
ample of Him who laid down His life for others, she gave herself
a willing victim upon the altar of charity. So great was the de-
votedness of these Religious, that one of them contracted an infir-
mity under which she labored many months, and of which she waa
healed with difficulty. A zeal so intense, a charity so devoted,
was worthy of rewnr^ even in this world ; — while hundreds were
dying around them, they seemed to bear a charmed life. Not one
Sister of Mercy fell a victim to the malady."!

* Aa a contrut to the leal of Arohbiahop Murray and hii clergj, during the
flrit Tiaitation of the cholera, it ahould be remembered that the late Dr. Whateljr
exempted hia clergy from attendance on the plague-atrioken, leal they ahould con<
vey infection to their familiea ; and thus Protestanta, whether in hoapitals or in
their own houaea, were doomed to die without the attendance of their apiritual,
though not of their corporal, phyaioians.

t They were not so fortunate, or rather they were more fortunate, during
the epidemic popularly termed " the fumlne fever." Several Slaters died of
this. In Bomo houses nine in ten were attacked at the same time : in one con-
vent every Sister was in the infirmary but one, who, to keep up some appear-
ance of community life, used to ring bella for all the esoroisea, though thorw
vaa no one to answer them.

; „ ♦.• * ■■■? .;■■ . ■ ,

•-wwwwiwwiww*:^ "

t was wfldly
lere tho stout,
xeir.blc, as his
nalady; where
urple features,
i victims, and
—there, in the
;8S would ven-
; only to enter,
true to the ex-
lie gave herself
»at was the de-
;racted an infir-

which she was
ity so devoted,

hundreds were
, life. Not one

I clergy, during the
|e Iste Dr. Whately
il they BhoaM con-
in hoapitaU or in
of their ipiritual,

fortiin«t4S, during
■al Siiten died of
time : in one oon-
p up Bome appear-
mw, though thoT*

.L i ,

'■-i:.

CHAPTER XXIII.

DiHtrcss of the poor in 1882.— Tlie DuchesB of Kent.— The Prinoess Viotoria.—
Tlie Catholio queens. — A royal donntion. — Now occcssions. — ProfuBsion.—
Extract from Very Bev. Doininio Murphy.— Mary Teresa MoAnley's inter-
view with tho Archbishop. — Her lost days. — ^Iler death. — Orief of tho
Foundress.

IN autumn, 1833, the Foundress and her spiritual children
quitted the hospital, the pestilence having entirely ceased.
They had no leisure to rest, however ; the cholera left them hun-
dreds of widows and orphans to provide for. The House of
Mercy and Orphanage were crowded to excess, and tlie yearly
revenues Mother McAuley had settled on them were quite inade-
quate to their present wants. A bazaar was the first expedient
that suggested itself to her anxious mind ; but those to whose
opinions she deferred prophesied > at such an undertaking would
prove a complete failure. Yet she soon won them over to her
views, and insured the success of the enterprise by extraordinary
means.

King William lY. was then old, and the eyes of many turned
hopefully towards the future Queen Regnant, tho Princess Vic-
toria, then in her fourteenth year. The Foundress determined to
make an appeal to the heiress presumptive, through her natural
guardian, the Duchess of Kent, in behalf of those whom the cholera
had reduced to misery, by depriving them of theur parents or
husbands.

This was indeed a bold stroke. Little sympathy and assistance
could the character or position of Catherine McAuley expect from
a princess of the Brunswick line, a line which received the British
crown on condition of endeavoring to extirpate the imperishable
Church — in the British empire, at least. The terms queen and
alms ffi>M>r were no longer synonymous, as in former times. The

230

LIFE OF OATHEBIKE MCAULET.

Maudes, the Marguerites, the Adelicias, the Philippas, whose
gemmed hands so affectionately ministered to lepera, bad passed
away. The last Catholic princess* of England bad £ed trom its
inhospitable shores, disguised as a washerwoman, and bearing ia
her trembling arms the infant heir of dominions on which the sun
never sets. Mary Clementina, the bride of the chevalier, never
reigned, and her son, Cardinal York, was perhaps happier in his
quiet villa at Frascati than any of his ancestors, direct or collateral,
had been at Holyrood or Whitehall. Undaunted by the bigotry
which the reigning family had ever evinced. Mother McAuley wrote
a touching epistle to the Duchess of Kent, in which she eloquently
set forth the distress the cholera had occasioned among the poor,
and entreated that her royal highness, and the princess, her daugh-
ter, would be graciously pleased to patronize the charitable works
shb ras inaugurating chiefly for persons of their own sex ; adding
that such charity would be well calculated to draw down the bene-
dictions of heaven on the youthful princess who was destined to
become the sovereign lady and mother of the realm — (her present
majesty.)

The duchess returned a most gracious reply, and, in a few days,
a large assortment of fancy work, executed by the royal fingers of
mother and daughter, was officially delivered at Baggot-street.
Card, Berlin, and raised work, wrought by the duchess, a large
velvet muff elegantly embroidered, and several drawings by the
Princess Victoria, made up the contents of this valuable contri-
bution. Each article had its value further enhanced by the royal
autograph of the fair donor, which was affixed. This was a prece-
dent worthy of imitation. Thousands, who otherwise had done
nothing for the poor, now flocked to the ball, and the Imzaor was
the most prosperous ever held for the poor of Dublin.

In October, 1832, the second ceremony of reception took place.
Four Sisters received the holy habit from the hands of the Arch-
bishop. An immense concourse of seculars attended, the Foundress
taking care to make amends to the disappointed public for their
exclusion from a former ceremony.

* Moriu d'£i<U, (jueeii Contort of James II.

ippas, whose
3, had passed
flecl. from its
b4 bearing ia
which the sun
evalier, never
happier in his
t or collateral,
by the bigotry
tfcAuley wrote
she eloquently
nong the poor,
ess, her daugb-
laritable works
rnsex; adding
down the bene-
yas destined to
1 — (her present

, in a few days,
royal fingers of
Baggot-street.
luchess, a largo
rawings by the
valuable contri-
ed by the royal
his was a prece-
rwise had done
the bazaar was
in.

)tion took place.

ds of the Arch-

, the Foundress

public for their

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

281

The first ceremony of profession took place on the 24th of Jan-
nary, 1833. Four of the " first seven" ladies received a year be-
fore wore admitted to make their vows, the Archbishop presiding.
This event is thus noted by the simple Annalist :*

" The Sisters seemed inspired while devoting themselves. The
procession was very imposing, and the music most effective ; the
fervent novices pronounced the holy vows which bound them for
life in poverty, chastity, and obedience, to the service of the poor,
sick, and i(;norant, in a manner that evinced their lively gratitude
to God foi- such a vocation. Their love seemed to emulate that
of the saints, who, from the exercise of the same virtues and the
practice of similar duties on earth, are now enjoying their Father's
smile in heaven."

Dnring the year 1833 several promising subjects entered, and
among them two widows, Mrs. McCann and Mrs. Jarmie ; the lat-
ter was just three times as old as the former, yet she survived all
her yonng contemporaries, dying in 1858.

Alluding to the early days of the Order of Mercy, Very Rever-
end Dominic Murphy, Dean of St. Finbarr's, Cork, writes :

" Whether it was that God wished to try the young communit '
in the hard ordeal of tribulation, or that He designed to reward a
devotedness so perfect and a charity so sublime by a speedy admis-
sion to the heavenly mansions, it would not be easy to say, but it
is a singular circumstance attending the commencement of this
Order, that during the first six years of its existence no fewer than
fifteen of its members were struck down by death, and passed in
the very freshness of their youth and the zenith of their usefulness
to the possession of that reward promised to those who leave
father and mother and all, to take their Divine Saviour as the
portion of their inheritance. Not one of the fifteen had reached
her twenty-third year."

* Annalist, in conventual parlance, means the Sister whose office it is to nottt
down Bs they occur events important to the Order. From those annals the his-
tory of the Order may afterwards be compiled ; also Circular Letters, &o,

t We do not And flileen deaths recorded in the Baggot-street Register for tho
first six years, but there being no second house of tlie Order during that period,
ton>e novices or postulantes may have been obliged to go out for ohangeof air;
in this way Ihe 9(teen might b« exceeded.

— * -_.

LIFE OF CATHERI17E MCAULET.

Bat the greatest Bacrifice God ever asked of her in whose re*
gard He never permitted the tomb to be closed, was her angelic
niece, Sister Mary Teresa McAuley. She had been the companion
of her aunt's toils, the sharer of her anxieties ; her virtues were a
source of consolation to all, her example a continual sermon, si-
lent, indeed, bat more eloquent than any words. While yet in the
infancy of her spiritual lite, she had practised the most rigorous
mortiGcations. She had worn a rough girdle till it cut its way
through her flesh, and her scanty sleep she was accustomed to take
on the boards, in the most penitential posture she could assume.
Her labors in the Institute were so great, that her aunt was ob-
liged to command her to moderate them. Symptoms of consump-
tion appearing, and the saintly novice being dispensed, now with
one duty and again with another, began to imagine that her weak
health was an indication of her incapacity to fulfil the duties of
an active order, and a warning to devote herself to God in a life
of strict contemplation. For a while she suffered terrible suspense,
and, fW)m a feeling of delicacy which will be easily understood,
she refrained from explaining her 'difficulties to her aunt. Re-
solved to accomplish God's will, whatever it cost her, she fre-
quently exclaimed : " Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do ?" But
no voice from heaven responded. At last she summoned courage
to tell her spiritual Mother that she was desurous of joiniug the
Carmelites. The Foundress, fearing lest her deep affection for this
dear daughter might insensibly iuiluence her decision, refused to
give any opinion on the subject, but gently said :

" !f God wants you to be a Carmelite, my darling, yon shall be
one. I myself will aid you instead of preventing you. I only ask
that you will do nothing rashly."

Mother McAuley procured her a private interview with the
Archbishop, whom she loved and reverenced as her Father in God,
and in whose wisdom and sanctity she placed unbounded confi-
dence. The reader will remember that it was Dr. Murray who
received her abjuration and baptized her, in 1828.

His Grace commenced by inquiring whether she was willing to
believe that the decision he should come to, after hearing her dif-
ficulties. &c., would be the manifestation of God's will in her re-

• ]

^■'' "r ^" 1 ni l ili i ii . i

. in whose te-
as her angelic
the comiMinion
yirtues were a
lal sermon, sir
bile yet in the
most rigorous
it cut its way
istomed to take

could assume,
r aunt was ob-
ms of consump-
jnsed, now with
) that her weak
il the duties of
to God in a life
errible suspense,
isily understood,

her aunt. Be-
pst her, she fre-
me to do ?" But
nmoned courage
IS of joining the

affection for thiB

iision, refused to

ing, yoo shall be
yoo. I only ask

terview with the

T Father in God,

unbounded conft-

Dr. Murray who

he was willing to
hearing her dif*
d's will in her re-

LIFE OF CATHERINE UOAULEr.

238

gard. She replied in the affirmatire, promising to remain with
the Sisters of Mercy or go to the Carmelites, as he directed.

*' Then," said his Grace, " yon may tell me all."

She mentioned her uneasiness at not being able to teach, visit
the sick, and instruct as the other Sisters did, adding that she could
hardly believe herself called to an Institute whose peculiar duties
she was so seldom able to fulfil. She then asked whether a con-
templative life was not more perfect.

The Archbishop showed her that though a contemplative lifb
may be more agreeable, still it was not the life our blessed Lord
and his apostles led on earth.

" Our Lord," continued his Grace, " lied such a life as your rule
proposes. He obeyed his parents, He worked like the poor, He
instructed the ignorant, relieved the sick, performed, in short, all
the works of mercy. He made retreats, and passed much of his
thne in prayer. So do you. In His exterior works your vocation
is to imitate Him as far as your superiors direct. For, remember,
though the exterior duties must be done, it is not those who wish
to perform the works of mercy that are always required to do so
in religion, but those appointed. Any Sister not employed in such
or such a duty ought not to be uneasy, so long as she holds herself
in readiness to perform what obedience may enjoin. Your health
was good when yon came here some years ago. To leave now be-
cause of weak health, or any other cause, would bo to take a rash
step, to yield to a dangerous delusion."

Much more passed at this interview, and his Grace on retiring
assured the consoled and grateful novice that her doubts and fears
would immediately pass away, which accordingly happened.'*'

Mother McAuley was most grateful to God for restoring peace
of mind to ode whose happiness was so dear to her ; and her
niece, on her part, thought only of preparing for her profession.
Her life became daily more saintly ; all her solicitude was directed
to the wants of others — of herself she seemed to take no heed
She often spoke with delight of the happiness of being consecrated

* S. M. Teresa gave an account of the above interview to S. M. Franoea
Warde, iVom whom we had it. It ia alto mentioned by Dean Mnrphy In bia
Memoir of tlie Foandreaa. •

ammtt

284

LIFE OP CATHEKIKE MCAULET.

to God under the patronage of the sweet Mother of Mercj. Her
life, indeed, seemed faultless. Alas, how little did her companions
think that this beauteous flower was soon to be traasplanted into
a holier soil I

One evening, in autumn, 1833, Sister Mary Teresa observed one.
of the orphan children on the roof of an outhouse, which she had
climbed with childish recklessness, and from which she was in im-
minent danger of falling. In the effort to rescue the foolish little
one, she burst a blood-vessel, and had barely strength to return to
the convent. With a glance, her aunt saw that recovery was
hopeless. On leaning this, the Archbishop, being ill himself, sent
their mutual friend, Dean Qaffney, to receive her vows. After
Extreme Unction, she requested that all the Sisters should bo sent
for, and, in the most hnmble and pathetic manner, begged pardon
of each for the scandal she said she had given. Of this, the An-
nalist says : "This effort so exhausted the dying spouse of Christ,
and so deeply grieved the Sisters, who could never discover even
an imperfection in her, that poor Reverend Mother was nearly
overcome, and almost resolved never to allow such a scene again."

Dr. James McAuley visited her daily. The day before her
death, as he embraced her in an agony of grief, she said to
him :

"Dear nncle, yon never refused me any thing. I now entreat
yon to return to the Church in which you were born, and in which
I rejoice to die."

On the morning of the day she died, as Dr. R. , a physician,

who had known her from infancy, seated himself by her bed, she
suddenly asked him how many hours he thought she had to live.
Moved to tears by this question, he gave an evasive answer.

" Don't be afraid to tell me what you think, doctor," she ob-
served. "People who are attached to life are terrified at the
prospect of death, but a Religious rejoices at its approach, viewing
it as an end of banishment and the beginning of real happiness."

When he ordered her infirmariau to wrap her feet in hot flannels,
she said, with a playful smile :

" Now, doctor, tell me frankly, have yon not ordered these to
keep off the chill of death, which is gathering on me V

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE MCAULEY.

asft

rcy. Her
lompanions
lanted into

bservcd one
icb she had
5 was in im-
foolisb little
to return to
Bcovery was
himself, sent
ows. After
lonld bo sent
jgged pardon
this, the An-
ase of Christ,
discover even
ir was nearly
scene again,
ly before her
; she said to

now entreat
and in wUcb

— , a physician,
)y her bed, she
she had to live.
I answer,
doctor," she ob-
tcrrified at the
proach, viewing
. happiness."
t in hot flannels,

ordered these to
ne?"

The Feast of St. Martin of Toars was an important day in the
annals of Catherine McAnley. On that day, 1822, ^he closed the
eyes of her adopted father. On the same day, 1833, the soni of
her " darling Mary Teresa," as she fondly styled her, was sum-
moned from this miserable world ; and, on the same Feast, eight
years later, she herself slept in Christ.

.On this day, 1833, an expression of unearthly joy suffused
the lovely countenance of the dying Religious. Her uncle, who
could not reconcile himself to the thought of her death, continued
to call in the ablest physicians. One of these, called in for con-
sultation, manifested great surprise that one so young and beauti-
ful could meet death with such delight. With a heavenly smile,
she said to him :

" Bo not amazed, doctor, that ' I go rejoicing.' Serve your God
well, and He will console yon when all else is about to vanish
forever."

Then, with that exquisite courtesy which she possessed in com-
mon with her aunt, she added :

" I thank yon, sir, for the pains you have taken to alleviate my
sufferings. I pray that God may reward your charity, and that,
when yon come to lie on the bed of death, you may feel as happy
as I do now." *

Towards evening, her increasing longing to be dissolved and be
with Christ appeared by her beautiful aspirations. Never before
had she looked so lovely. Her appeai'ance created universal sur-
prise. Yet it was not so wonderful : if the approach of the nup-
tial hour gladdens the heart of an earthly bride, and causes the
maidenly blush of happiness to mantle on her check, why should
not the bride of Heaven, the spouce of the Lamb, rejoice when
the angels give tidings of His coming — " Behold, the Bridegroom
Cometh : go forth to meet Him."

Yet she did not expire without a struggle. Towards night she
was assailed with grievous temptations to despair, so violent that
they made her beautiful countenance writhe in agony. The Sisters

* The phynician to whom Mary Teresa apoko thus was then a Protestant.
Tears after, he declared that he regarded hi* interview with her aa a apecial
graoe, whose blesaed effecU lie atiU felt.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

Borronnded her in earnest prayer, bat this trial continaed more
than two honrs.

" Oh t" exclaimed the Foundress, " I know onr Lord wonld com-
fort her if the Mother of Mercy would only say one prayer for her!"

At the mention of her beloved Mother of Mercy, she smiled
faintly, and, after a little more excessive saffering, her wonted
serenity was restored. " It ought to be mentioned," says the An-
nalist, " that nearly her last words were an appeal of charity ia
behalf of a straying soul."*

About midnight she pronounced the sacred names of Jesus and
Mary,' and then closed her eyes to earth. Her head rested on the
bosom of that aunt who had loved her with more than maternal
tenderness ; her face, radiant as ever, soon became expressive of
an abandonment deeper than that of sleep ; but it was some time
before those who watched her so closely could be convinced that
fihe was indeed no more.

Who can describe the anguish of the bereaved Foundress ? The
mind of the deceased, like that of her aunt, was great and compre-
hensive, and her '"tue far beyond the ordinary standard. The
winning playful >f her manners, especially at recreation, was

but the unbend! . superior intellect. The friendship between

the mature aunt and the young niece had never been sullied by the
most transient estrangement. Calmly, and with a tearless eye, that
aunt gazed on the beloved form that now lay in silent loveliness
on the couch of death, while the sobs and tears of the Sisters in-
terrupted the requiem. Yet, if a word could call back the de-
parted spirit. Mother McAuley had not given utterance to that
word. " I loved my Mary Teresa too much," said she, " and Qo 1 '
took her from me. We must love Him as well when He takes as
when He gives. May I never be free from His cross 1"

Years after, when she laid her nephew, James, in the tomb, she
wrote : " My earthly joys are all cut down now, thank Ood;" but
she never had a dearer "earthly joy" than Mary Teresa.

* It n remttrkable that nearly all the early Sinters died almost in the act of doing
or guj;ge8ting something for the good of the poor, of sinners, etc. The wonder-
fally happy deaths they all had was attributed to the great devotion to St.
Joseph that prevailed in the Order.

laed 111016

f ould com-
jr for berl"
she smiled
ler wonted
lys the An-
f charity in

)f Jesus and
•ested on the
ian maternal
expressive of
■as some time
onvinced that

mdress? The
t and compre-
tandard. The
Recreation, was
idship between

sullied by the
arless eye, that
iilent loveliness

the Sisters in-
back the de-
ferance to that

she, "and Go 1'
i He takes as

the tomb, she
mk God;" but

f^in the not of doing

etc. The wonder-

Lt devotion to St.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

When it was noised abroad that this beanttfal one was no more,
many a gay, tliongbtless girl, to whom the memory of her piety
was a sort of talisman, and in whom the greatness of her early sac*
rifice had awakened a feeling akin to reverence, wept with emotion
on seeing how soon God had rewarded this youn^ and lovely
being. " la a short, time she fulfilled a long space." Happy was
she' in wisely choosing Him for her Spouse at whose judgment-seat
she was destined so soon to appear ! *

" I have always observed," says a spiritual writer,f " that good
persons are ever compassionate, and easily moved to tears." But
who could be more compassionate than Catherine McAuley ? In
this point, above all others, she strove to resemble Him who gave
His life for men. Her letters and other writings are replete with
beautiful allusions to the " mercy, compassion, sweetness, patience,
and tender pity" of our Redeemer. These consoling attributes
were, as might be expected, the objects of her special devotion.
In the following prayer, which she wrote in compliance with the
request of a Sister, see how sweetly she appeals to His " compas-
sionate, if der pity :"

"My <j(od, I am Thine for time and eternity I Teach me to
cast myself entirely into the arms of Thy loving providence, with
the most lively, unlimited confidence in Thy compassionate, tender
pity. Grant, O most merciful Redeemer I that whatever Thou
dost ordain or permit may be always acceptable to me. Take from
my heart all painful anxiety ; suffer nothing to sadden me but sin,
nothing to delight me but the hope of coming to the possession
of Thee, my God and my All, in Thine own everlasting kingdom 1"

The sentiment of tender compassion for the wants and miseries,
spiritual and temporal, of others, Mother McAuley esteemed as a
necessary quality in all who aspired to join her Institute. She
wished that the Sisters should feel and show sympathy and affec-
tion for each other, especially in the hour of trial ; for she knew
that if they did not practise this at home, they could not, when
abroad, evince " the tenderest pity and compassion for the poor,"

* The date of Mary Teresa's death is variously given as the 11th and 12th ot
November, from the eiroumstance that she died about midnight.
t Saint-Jure.

238

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

as tbo rule obliges them to do. Yet she herself performed the last
offices and said the last prayers for her own relatives without be-
traying the least emotion, or even shedding a tear. The probable
reason of this was, that she did not wish to inflict her troubles on
others, or that her grief at the moment was too deep for tears.
The Sisters loved her the better when they learned that she wept
in secret as each dear one was taken from her. At the death of
others, however, she always wept, but her tfiars were sweet ones.

Mother McAuley's letters contain several allusions to Mary Te-
resa, who was evidently her beau ideal of perfection. When a
very handsome lady entered, she would describe her as being " not
unlike my Mary Teresa." Another "had almost mind and as
formed a character as my darling Mary Teresa." Another " is all
ardor and zeal for the poor, like my Mary Teresa." Another
" bears some resemblance to my Mar Teresa, and is just as in-
nocent," Similar phrases are of frequt-ut occurrence in Ler notes.

id the last
ithout be-
) probable
roubles on

for tears,
t sbe wept
le death of
ireet ones.
,0 Mary Te-
, When a

being " not
nind and aB
other " is all
[.» Another
ia just as in-
in her notes.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Bute and Constitutiona of .ho Order of Mercy. — ^Lay Sisters. — ^Very Bev. James
Bice, — Oppoiition to tlie nenr Institute. — The Pope sends his approbation, aud
his apostolic benediction to its members. — Mother MoAuley gives an account
of the foundation of the Order. — Letters.

ALTHOUGH the Rule and Constitntions of the Institute were
no^ completed till 1834, or approved till 1835, yet in substance
thoT contain nothicg but what had been observed from 1827.
The li'onndress, in composing or compiling them, had but to collect
the pious practices she herself had established. The basis of her
Rnle was that of St. Augustine, of which the Pres^-itation Rule is
but another form ; but time and other circumstances required many
alterations, which cost her immense labor and incessant prayer.
She often observed to the Sisters, that every word of the Rule they
practised was the fruit of prayer. Taken as a whole, it may bo
regarded as a faithful exponent of her views on religious perfection,
and in writing it she unconsciously drew her own portrait. It is
concise, but nothing essential is omitted. Ardent charity, profound
humility, and tender piety pervade every section. A high degree
of religious perfection is exacted, but with so much sweetness and
prudence, that at first sight it seems easy to observe rules in which
common sense forms the basis of the most exalted virtue ; yet no
one can observe even one* of them in its perfection without be*
coming a saint. , ■.

* As, for instance, the following :

" The Sisters shall most studiously watch over themselves, and guard against
the insinuations of self-love, lost thoy lose the merit of th^ir good works by
■elf-complacency or vain-glory, or by having in their actions any other motivs
or end in \ vv than to please Qod. They are never to act through inclinatiom
or capiie*, but all shall be performed with regularity and exactness, and referred
with the utmost forvot Ka the Divine honor, in union with the most holy ao-
Uons and infinite merits of Jesus Christ."

, •!r^milfS!m-^,,m<r, -«. .— „,....^„^

240

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

The chapters on the Visitation of the Sick, the House of Mercy,
Lay Sisters, &c., were entirely composed by the Foundress, who had
a remarkable talent for saying a great deal in a few words. In
the first section of the Chapter on the Visitation, she proposes the
example of Jesus Christ, which " has in all ages of the Church ex-
cited the faithful in a particular manner to instruct and comfort the
sick and djing poor." In the next she remarks that " the miracu-
lous cur(}c performed by our Saviour, and the power of healing
granted to the apostles, erince His great tenderness for the sick,"
and that " the most cmiuent saints (of some of whom she gives a
list) havt devoted their lives to this work of mercy." In concln«
Bion, she nays : " Such bright examples and the great recompense
promised, are strong motives to encourage the Sisters to fulfil with
fervor and delight every part of this most meritorious duty."

In the third she speaks of the interior dispositions which should
animate " those whom Jesus Christ has graciously permitted to as-
sist Him in the pirson of His suffering poor." She then goes on
to describe the aaanner of instructing and consoling them, the
regulations to be observed, the visit to be made to the Blessed
Sacrament before leaving the convent and on return, and the graces
to be asked in these visits. The eighth section contains the secret
of her wonderful success in winning souls to God, for though she
says that the Sisters must always have spiritual good most in view,
still she believes that this cannot, in general, be promoted but by
drawing poor huma& nature to it by " the cords of Adam," by un-
failing and sincere kiadness : —

" Great tenderness should bo employed, and when there is not
immediate danger of death, it will be well to relieve the distress
first, and to endeavor, by every practicable means, to promote the
cleanliness, ease, and comfort of the patient ; since we zre ever
mo8t disposed to receive admonition and instruction /rom /AoM
who evince compassion for us."

Kot a word could be added to this beautiful chapter. Even the
very tone of voice is [prescribed : " Tlie Sister should speak in aa
easy, soothing, impressive manner, so as not to embarrass or fatigue
the poor patient."

In Lay Sisters Mother McAuley requires " good consUtatiofl

-. .1

LIFK OF CATHKBINE MCAULBT.

S41

,e of Mercy,
Bss, who had
words. In
proiwses the
B Clmrch ex-
l comfort the
" the miracor
er of healing
;or the Bick,'»
tt she gives a
" In conclOi
at recompense
B to fulfil with
s duty."
! which should
ermitted to as-
then goes on
ling them, the
to the Blessed
, and the graces
itains the secret
for though she
)d most in view,
romoted but by
: Adam," by un-

hen there is not
ieve the distress
, to promote the
Ince we ere ever
ction/rom thoa*

lapter. Even the
ould speak in an
ibarrass or fstigoe

good constitatloa

plain education, manner, and appearance, suited to Religious who
must be seen in public, " because," says she, " they ought to be
persons who could occasionally accompany the Choir Sisters, with-
' ' out any remarkable exterior diflference." Speaking of Lay Sisters,

one of her biographers* says : — " Rererend Mother McAuIey took
great pains to form them to the Religious life, fully convinced that
they required more instmction than those whose education was of
a higher order, and whose domestic rearing was a remote prepara-
tion for the restraints of conventual discipline. From their practi*
cal knowledge of business they were very valuable in carrying out
the directions of the Choir Religious in the House of Mercy, as re-
garded needlework and the laundry ; they were also very useful in
the extern department of the House, which is very extensive and
important, and which has existed from the very commencement."

Mother McAuley thus beaatifuUy concludes the chapter she
wrote on this subject :

"The state of Lay Sisters is very similar to that which oar
humble Redeemer made choice of in this world, who dedicattMl
himself to the service of others, without ever requiring to bo
served Himself. It wUl greatly animate them in all their labors to
reflect that they are working for a heavenly Master, who will take
into account their toil and pain, lighten their di£BcuUies, and most
generously reward every exertion they will have made for the love
of Him."

In August, 1834, Very Rev. James Rice,f an Augnstinian Friar
of much learning and piety, visited Baggot^^treet Honse, which we
will henccf' I'th call St. Mary's, and being greatly pleased with the
manner in which the works of mercy were performed there, asked
whether he could be of any assistance to the Institute, at Rome,
whither he was proceeding. Mother McAuley replied that she was
anxious to receive the approbation of the Holy See for the Order,
but feared it was too soon to urge this. When the applicatioa
was made, however. Father Rice used his influence to sustain it.

The Rule and Constitutions had already been approved by his

* Mother Mary V. Ilaritiutt.

t Very Sev. James Rice was brother to Edmund Bioe, Eaq., of Waterford|
who founded the Chrietian Sohoole Id Ireland, 1802.

am.''

LIFE OF CATHERINE M«AULET.

Grace the Archbishop, who affixed the following, with his seal, to
the copy submitted to his inspection :

" We hereby approve of these Bales and Gon&titntions, compiled
(or composed) for the Religions Gongrcgaxion of Sisters of Mercy ;
and we declare that it is not onr intention that they shall oblige,
nnder pain of mortal or venial sin, except inasmuch as the trans-
gression of any arti«le may be a violatior of the vows or in itself
a sin, independently of the 1 ^es.

"IhDBLiN, Jannary 28, 1884."

" >|« D. Murray, Archb.

About this time, the opposition to the Institute was renewed
with great violence, and coming from parties worthy of respect —
Priests and Religious — was calculated not only to deter postulants
from entering the Order, but tend to make those unhappy who had
ahready made their vows in it. For, in a country so loyal to Rome
as Ireland is, the report that a religious body is not approved by
Rome, would soon annihilate that body. As soon as Mother Mc-
Auley heard that a certain Religious was circulating through the
city that " there was not a stroke of a pen from Rome in favor of
the Sisters of Mercy," she became seriously alarmed. It being
quite true that her Institute had not been formally approved,
though the Archbishop had obtained permission for its formation,
in 1829, she laid the whole matter before him, and he immediately
applied to Rome for a formal approbation. To the inexpressible
consolation of the young community, this was granted on the Feast
of the Finding of the Holy Cross, May 3, 1835. The Archbishop
was urged to apply for this, not by the friends, but by the op-
ponents of the Institute. So wonderful are the ways of Qtod I
With this solemn Approbation, his Holiness Pope Qregory XYL
sent his Apostolic Benediction to the Foundress and her associates.

Much of the opposition made to newly founded Institutes is
probably well meant, and, far from iiy'uring them, is of essential
service ; but were it otherwise, the ma''ce of men cannot destroy
what the power of God upholds. Yet among Religious them*
selves, there ought surely to be no misunderstanding, or at least
no mutual censure. They have all a common Father, God, and a

%MHi

LIFE or CATHERINE MOAULET.

S4S

i his fleal, to

ions, compiled
?r8 of Mercy ;
' shall oblige,
as the tiana-
rs or ia itself

lAT, Archb.

was renewed
f of respect —
iter postulants
lappy who had
loyal to Borne
t approved by
18 Mother Mc-
g through the
•me in favor of
led. It being
lally approved,
' its formation,
he immediately
le inexpressible
}d on the Feast
'he Archbishop
but by the op-
ways of God 1
Gregory XVI.
her associates.
>d Institutis ia
is of essential
cannot destroy
leligious them*
ling, or at least
her, God, and ft

common Mother, the Church. They are all equally spouses oi
Jesns Christ, and each will take her place for eternity, not accord-
ing to the antiquity of the Order, for with Him before whom a
thousand years are as yesterday, no Order is ancient and none new ;
nor according to the aristocracy of her birtb, for vu'tue is the only
aristocracy aj.;.reciated by God ; nor to the veneration in wlucl»
sher is held, for He looks to the heart, and rewards the virtue wo
possess, not that which may be falsely attributed to us ; nor to
her style of habit, unless, indeed, it covers a holy Religious ; nor
to the riches of her house, for poverty is the only wealth He prizes
in Religion ; — ^before Him we all take our rank according to our
individual perfection ; and it may be, that, on the great accounting
day, " the last shall be first and the first last, for many are called
bat few are chosen."

The Order of Meroy owes this gratitude to the Orders existing
in Ireland at the period of its foundation, that they all reached out
a helping hand towards it, and showed it unvarying kindness and
generosity. The Pntsentation Order bestowed much of its form
and part of its rule on the young Institute. The Ursnlines eda-

ted b lai-ge proportion of its subjects, and the Sisters of Charity
gave it the example of coming outside the cloister to do good.
The Carmelites and Poor Clares were unceasing in their kind atten-
tions ; the Nuns of Longhrea, Newry, Garlow, Galway, and other
places, lavished the most tender courtesy on Mother McAuley, when
foundation business brought her among them, and extended their
hospitality with such graceful kindness, that in every instance they
persisted in regarding themselves us the obliged party. To this
day, the Order of Mercy owes some of its best members to the
ancient Ursuline Order, and the modem, but not less admirable
Society of the. Ladies of the Sacred Heart, whoso pupils, as Sis-
ters of Mercy, fail not to diffiise the piety they imbibed in these
seminaries of virtue and learning.

The opposition given tu her Institute by a few Religious, Mother
HcAuley either forgot, or regarded as well meant, for towards the
end of tier life, she wrote : " I never knew an unkind Religious ;"
bat had the case beetA otherwise, her gentle pen had refused to re*
cord her experience. When Priests opposed her, she always be*

244

LIFB OF CATHEBIKK MCAULEY.

lieved they did so for conscience' sake ; eren the bitter end Bar*
castic letters she received on a few occasions, did not lessen her
esteem for the sanctity she sup]K>sed the writers to possess. Hear-
ing a norice one day say something about " a very holy Priest," she
said, with a smile :

" I hare known a great many Priests, bat I never knew one who
was not 'very holy.' " ,;t!- s am oJir cJ si v^J sll im .L

The very objects of the Order of Mercy natorally enlisted the
sympathy of the clergy ; for compassion towards the poor is a
peculiarly priestly virtue, the precious oil of Aaron which perfumes
the sacerdotal character. The ancients speak of Priests* as men
whose tears were always flowing over the miseries of humanity so
constantly kept before their eyes. Mother McAuley found her
wannest friends, but also her most violent opponents, among the
clergy. One of the latter feared she might interfere with the
Sisters of Charity, either by withdrawhig ladies whose vocation
attracted them to the same good works, or by dividing the public
char'ties which they administered. Strange it did not occur to
him that there is, and, so far as we know, ever will be, more sorrow
and misery in this poor world than Charityf and Mercy, in nil their
human embodiments, will ever be able fully to relieve.

* Formerly Priests wore a cloth by thoir side, to dry the tears they were sup*
posed to shed so frequently over tlie sorrows of poor, Ikllen nature. It was
called Mappula, and was the predecessor of the modern ManipU. See Vtn.
St(U, &o.

t When we speak uf the " Si$terto/CharUp" we always mean those founded by
Miss Aikenhead in Dublin, not the Congregation founded by St. Vincent, whioh
is more correctly styled, " Of the Daughters (FUIm) of Charity." A large paint-
ing in the fine Hospital, Stephen's Green, Dublin, will have made hundreds
familiar with the physical features of Hiss Aikenhead. Her soft brown ayea,
and the warm tints of her complexion, seem to belong to a more southern dims,
and half disguised as the figure iawith the picturesque dresaof her Society, the
beauty of the picture will interest in the original, those who see it. It repre-
sents the Reception of Sir Michael Bellew'S daughter, who became a Sister of
Charity several years ago. Many types of beauty are seen in the group. The
apostolic sweetness of Archbishop Murray's venerable countenance contrasts
finely with the fresh beauty of the kneeling postulante, who does not appear
to have seen eighteen summers, and might welt form the subject and inspira-
tion of Gerald Orlflin's well-known lines on •■ 7%« Sitter qf Oharity." " Her
vesture, blended of silk and of gold, foruu a oontnwt to the ooarse bUok utg%

ittcr and sar*
ot lessen her
088688. near-
ly Priest," she

knew one who

[ly enlisted the
the poor is a
rhich perfnmes
'ricsts* as men
)f hnmanity so
iiley foand her
ats, among the
irfere with the
whose vocation
ling the public
1 not occur to
H), more sorrow
srcy, in all their

ire thejr were eup-
n nature. It was
laniplt. See Vttt,

n those founded bj
St. Vincent, whioh
jr." A large paiot-
;t made hundreds
r soft brown ayot,
ore southern dime,
of her Society, tba
see it. It repre-
beoamo a Sister of
in the group. The
iintenanoo oontrasts
10 does not appear
ubjcct and inspira-
' Oharity." " Her
s coarse black sarg*

g*BJi;r-H,;

LIFE OF CATHEBIlTi: MCATTLET.

245

To a lady desirous of joining the In«titute in 1833, Mother
McAnley wrote the following graphic detail of the daily duties :

" Office and Meditation over by seven. Mass at a quarter past
seven — over by eight. Breakfast at a quarter past eight. After
breakfast, the Sisters attend to their different employments until
nine, when we have public lecture for all. At half-past nine, the
Sisters appointed to visit the sick prepare to go out ; those in
charge of the schools, prepare for them. The Sister who super-
intends the extern distressed persons, takes her place in the work-
room. Reverend Mother or a senior Sister remains in an
adjoining room, to receive and answer applications. At a quarter
to twelve, we again assemble in choir for particular examen.
At twelve, Angelus, Acts of Faith, Hope and Charity,. Litany
of Jesus ; after which we resume our employments. Those who
went out first have now returned ; others go out, who return after
three. Dinner for the House of Mercy at three. Our dinner at
four, after which recreation in community-room; but as the Sisters
who read and attend table, and the Lay Sisters, have yet to dine,
it is not called general recreation. At fiv Vespers in choir, after
which Lecture till six, then Angelus, M". s and Lands, etc. At
a quarter to seven, visit ; then tea ; afterwards general recreation
till nine : and you never saw such a happy and merry party, nor
ever will, except in a Keligious community.

"At nine, general examen. Litany of the Saints, morning medita-
tion prepared, then to rest.

" This one day is our whole life. You might suppose the daily
and uninterrupted repetition of the same duties would prove tire-
some : it is not so; the Religious life affords more lively, solid, and
lasting happiness than all the variety the world could give."

of Mother Aikenhead, as do her jewels with the brass ornolflx which rests oc
the bosom of the ssme venerable personage. Miss Bellew was professed in the
Congregation, but was called to her reward soon after.

* The above oontnins all the spiritual exercises daily made in coinm on (unless
at special times, as Lent), except five Paters and Aves, and the Litany o f the
Blessed Virgin alter Vespers, said daily, by Mother McAuley's regulation, for
the Bishop and Clergy of the diocese ; the Litany for a Happy Death, or for the
Dead, said afler Matins. The Rosary is said in private. A visit to the Bles««d
Baorament precedes each duty.

■|

S4d

LIFE OF CATHERINE HCAULEY.

Some years later, a Priest desiroas of having an account of the
rise of the Institate from the Foandress herself, designing to embody
it in a sermon which he engoged to preach at a Profession, com-
missioned the Superioress of the Convent of Mercy, Liuiericlc, to
npply for it. The reply of Mother McAaley is very characteristic :

" I would find it very di£Bcalt to do what Bev. Mr. G seems

to require ; the circumstances which would make it interesting
could never be introduced in a public discourse. It commenced
with two, Sister Doyle and myself. The plan from the beginning
was such as is now in practice. In 1827 the house w»s opened.
In a year and a half we were joined by .'iuch numbers that it be-
came a matter of general wonder. Most Rev. Dr. Murray gave
us most cordial approbation and frequently visited us. AH was
done under his direction, from the time we entered the HouFe, which
had been erected for the purpose of charity. Very Rev. Drs.
Blake and Armstrong were the persons chiefly concerned ; they
received all the ideas I had formed, and consulted together for at
least two years, before the House was built. I am sure Dr. Blake
had it constantly before him in all his communications with Heaven,
for I never can forget his fervent prayers while it was in progress.

" Seeing our number increase so rapidly, anxiety was expressed to
try and give the House stability. We who began, prepared to do
whatever was recommended by authority, and in September, 1830,
we went, with dear Sister Harley, to Qcorge's Hill, to serve a novi-
tiate for the purpose of formally establishing it. •

" In December, 1831, wo returned, and the progress has continued
as you know. We are now (1838) above one hundred in number,
and the desire to join us seems rather on the increase. Though it
was thought foundations would retard it, the case appears to be
quite otherwise. There has been a most marked providential gui-
dance, which the want of prudence, vigilance, and judgment has no t
impeded ; and it is here that we can clearly see the designs of God.
I could mark circumstances calculated to defeat us at once, but no-
thing, however injurious in itself, has done us any damage. The loss
of property has been supplied ; the deaths of the most valuable
Sisters have passed away as of no consequence ; the alarm spread
abroad by such frequent deaths did not prevent others crowding

icconnt of the
ling to embody
rofcssion, com-
', Liuierick, to
characteristic :

'. C seems

) it interesting
It commenced
the beginning
36 w»3 opened,
ers that it be-
r. Murray gave
i us. An was
e Houpe, which
^ery Rev. Drs.
nccmed ; they
together for at
Bare Dr. Blake
\B with Heaven,
ras in progress,
as expressed to
prepared to do
ptember, 1830,
to serve a novi-

B8 has continued
dred in number,
ise. Though it
) appears to be
)rovldential gui-
Jgmcnt has no t
designs of Qod.
at once, but no-
inage. The loss
e roost valuable
he alarm spread
others crowding

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE MCAULET.

247

in ; in short, it evidently toas to go ua and surmount all obstacles,
many of which were great indeed, and proceeding from causes
within as well as without. One thing is remarkable, that no
breach of charity ever occurred among us. The sun never, I be-
lieve, went down upon our anger. Tliis a our only boast ; others
wise w<» have been deficient enough, and far, very far from
co-operating generously with Ood. But we will try to do better
in future, all of us, — the blach-heada * will strive to repaur the
past, please God."

Thus, she always said as little as possible of herself, and strove
to attribute to others a share of the merits of her own works.
Like the soul which is hidden, though it animates the whole
body, she was present to aid in every emergency; but though she
presided more or less in every department, she referred the credit
of all, to the Sisters in charge of each.

* The Professed Sisters.

" CHAPTER XXV.

" Little Catherine."— Oonero»ity of the Fonnclregs.— The I^ord Bishop of Dro-
more.— Chief events of his life.— His connection with the Foundress.— His
love for the Institnte.

IMMEDIATELY after Mtiry Teresa's decease, her only sister,
Catherine, then in her sixteenth year, expressed her intention
of becoming a Sister of Mercy. She had lived in the con-
vent from the time of her father's death, but was now anxions
to be a member of the community. Her uncle, who was also her
guardian, would not hear of this. Not appreciating the spirit of
charity which prompted her sacrifice, and wishing to test her sin-
cerity, he insisted that she should spend at least a year at his
house, in which arrangement Reverend Mother at once acquiesced.
He felt sure that estrangement from her aunt, and a closer view of
the attractions of the gay world, might induce her to abandon a
resolution which he fancied had been adopted in a moment of un-
reflecting enthusiasm. As she was of a very lively disposition, she
enjoyed herself highly in society, and made every one about her
happy ; but neither his reasoning nor the fascinations of brilliant
society could alter her determination, and when the year expired
she asked leave to return to St. Mary's. The doctor was greatly
annoyed ; he cast the whole blame, if blame there were, on his
sister. •' She had used her influence unduly ; she had bewitched
the child. It was cruel to induce their niece to take a step which
she might hereafter bitterly repent." Old sores were opened. A
disagreeable scene was enacted. Though an estimable man in many
respects. Dr. McAuley was, or affected to be, totally incapable of
appreciating the motives of the illustrious woman whose heroic vir-
tues were casting a halo round his name. Little Catherine entered
in 1834, and assumed the name of Mary Agnes. Like her aunt,

'P i' Wl ii' i i ' ^

LIFE OP CATHERINE MOAULEY.

249

Bishop of Dro>
Foundress.— Hia

er only sister,
1 her intention
d in the con-
8 now anxions
> was also her
5 the spirit of

test her sin-
a year at his

Dce acquiesced.

1 closer view of
to abandon a

oaoment of un-
disposition, she
one about her
ana of brilliant
e year expired
or was greatly
•e were, on his
had bewitched
ce a step which
sre opened. A
)le man in many
ly incapable of
hose heroic vir-
theriiie entered
Like her aunt,

she was a model of charity. Cleansing poor neglected orphans,
and performing for them the meanest offices, were her favorite oo-
cnpations. Though not possessed of the beauty and high ictelleo*
taal endowments of her fan: sister, she was exceedingly beloved for
her gentleness, gayety, and devotion to the poor. Mother McAo-
ley usually calls her " My innocent, playful Catherine."
. The same year, a gentleman, a friend of Mr. Callahan's, applied
to the heiress for a loan to retrieve his shattered fortunes. " How
much do you require ?" said she. v •* i

Mr. P. was silent. *• Your wife and children," 8h«5 continued,
"want many things (for she knew they were living, or rather
starving in a grand house). Here are five hundred pounds, but
remember all I have belongs to the poor. I will trust you to re-
pay me."

In this instance her hopes were disappointed. The ruling pas-
sion soon made a dead set on this unfortunate man ; wife, children,
and benefactress were forgotten at the gambi<ng-table. He sat
down to increase his store ; he stood up a beggar. The Sister of
Mercy instantly revenged herself by proridinj; for his helpless
fomily. " Throw stones at a beautiful tree," says an Eastern poet,
" and in return it will shower on you fruits and flowers."

In 1833, Mother McAuley's revered friend. Dr. Blake, was
raised to the episcopate. This, a great gain for the Cbnrch of
Dromore, was a serious loss to her. His countenance and support
were a protection to the Institute, because he deservedly bore the
reputation of a saint. She was guided chiefly by bis counsel, and
he often supplied her with means to carry out her charitable plans.
As this esteemed prelate was by far the best friend the rising Or-
der had, a glance at the principal events ol his life will not be out
of place here.

We begin by an anecdote which Cardinal Wiseman gives of
him : " Now that Dr. Blake has gone to receive tho reward his
amiable virtues deserved, and that all delicacy in what reflects
honor on him is removed, I may relate here what I heard from him-
self of his early career. When a student at Rome, he said, he was
considered remarkably slow and dull. This was partially owing to
very great indistinctness in his speech, accompanied by stammering.

11*

..„:J

■Baail

250

LIFE OF CATHERINB MCAULET.

On one occasion, rentaring to interpose his opinion in some discns*
sion among his comrades, one of them nidely interrupted him,
saying : * What business have yon to speak^ who are the dunce of
the college ?' The wound was smarting, but salutary. The meek
boy made no reply, but retired heartsore into solitude. He re-
flected on what had been publicly said to him, without rebuke from
any one, and with the silent concurrence of all. Yes, that was his
character among them, that the opinion even of the kindest of his
friends. If they had not told him of it, one had let it out to him.
To this rough monitor he ought to be thankful for telling him the
truth. And now, what was tt be done ? The reproach must be
wiped away, the character reversed. Its causes, real or imaginary,
must be cured at any cost. This roost be the unremitting task of
his school-life.

" He wrote on a slip of paper, ' the dunce of the colleoe,' in
plain, anmistakable letters, and placed it on his desk, where, nnseen
by others, it should ever be before his eyes. During the regular
hours of application, there it was ; at times of extra study, while
others were at recreation, this stinging goad was at his side. He
adopted a slow and deliberate utterance, which accompanied him
through life, but which perfectly remedied his original defect. He
soon rose honorably both in hb class and in the estimation of his
Bchool-f'llo'vs — those severest but most accurate of judges — who,
Iiowevcr, knew not of the spell that formed the secret of his suc-
cess, Au(j so he passed through all the honored degrees of his
s&cred profession to its hi;^!:hest attainable dignity."*

Shortly after his returu to Ireland, Dr. Blake was appointed
parish priest of SS. Michael's and John's, Dublin. In 1814 he
headed the regular and secular clergy of Dublin diocese, who pro-
tested against the famous rescript of Monsignor Qnarrantotti,f

* " Bocolleotions of the Four Lnst Popes."

t Tbia prelate, apon whom an oflScial position devolved while His HolineM
Pope Pius VII. wtts a prisoner in France, addressed to Dr. Poynter, Vicar
Apostolic of London district, a rescript commendatory of the bill which pro*
posed to give the sovereign of England a voice in the election of bishops, &o.
Against, *''is the whole hierarchy of Ireland remonstrated. After much discas-
:iion »md oscitement, the Pope ordered Cardinal Consalvi to draw up an ex-
planatory reacript, ar*' reraoved Monsignor t om his official poat.

m^—^'-' I ,^1 -

in some discas*
terrupted him,
ire the dunce of
iry. The meek
litude. He re-
out rebuke from
cs, that was his
e kindest of his
F>t it out to him.
telling him the
proach must be
sal or imaginary,
emitting task of

rHB COLLEGE,' in
k, where, unseen
iring the regular
:tra study, while
it his side. He
iccompanied him
inal defect. He
'stimation of his
of judges— who,
lecret of his suc-
d degrees of his

e was appointed
in. In 1814 he
diocese, who pro-
ir Quarrantotti,t

while His HolincM
Dr. Poyriter, Vicar

f tlje bill which pro-

jtion of bishops, &0.
After much discus-

ri to draw up an e»-

al post.

, LIF£ OF CATHEEINE ItCAULET.

251

which they pronounced " entirely non-obligatory upon the Catholic
Church in Ireland." In 1825 he was summoned to Rome to re-
store the Irish College, which had been suppressed during the
French occupation of Rome, and then incorporated with the Col*
lege of the Propaganda. Having successfblly accomplished thi?,
he was recalled to Dublin in 1828, and became parish priest of
St, Andrew's, Westland Row, to which district St. Mary's be-
longed. He commenced the spacious church which now adorns
that locality, and which was still unfinished in 1833, when he was
raised to the See of Dromore. •,'-^i^ '= '; i £ w> < j is^ix

Nothing could exceed his kindness to the Institute. He ob-
tained of the Archbishop that an annual sermon should be preached
in his church in aid of its charities. As Vicar-General he acceded
to every arrangement that Mother McAuley proposed for the spir-
itual direction of the various departments of her Institute.

His opinions of the Foundress will be more worthy of credit
when we add, that he was most cautions to avoid the least exag-
geration ; and, if he carried any virtue to excess, it was exactness
in this particular. His ideas of the sanctity of God and the cor-
ruption of poor human nature, were such as led him to incline to
the opinion that no Saint save the sinless Mother of Jesus, had ever
been admitted to the Beatific Yision, without at least passmg
through Purgatory. In him, ardent love of God was mingled with
an intense fear of His inscrutable judgments, which cansed a horror
of the most trivial imperfections. His charity to the poor soon
beggared him. Persons often gave him large sums of money with-
out directing how they were to be disposed of. Thus, if it some-
times happened that he was a rich man in the morning, evening
was sure to find him without a shilling. He frequently gave large
alms to thp Institute ; and, when the Sisters would attempt to
make some acknowledgment, he would always playfully turn off
the subject, saying : " You save me a great deal of trouble ; be-
sides, you can make a better use of money than I." His amiability
and gentlenoss accompanied him till death ; but he retained no
traces of the dunce of the school. On the contrary, he was as
eminent for learning as he was for sanctity. In 1832, he delivered

hid'.: « 'U*«

252

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

a splendid coarse of Lenten sermons ; and, though he had com-
menced the erection of his church in Wcstland Row, and had some
diflBculty in inducing Iiis parishion«;rs to co-operata with him, ho
sent the whole proceeds of them to the Sisters for distribution.
But Mother McAuIey having learned that this caused murmuring
among the perhons who had been in the habit of recei\'igthe
offerings made at previous Lenten sermons, and who, though poor,
were not altogether the class whom the Sisters would select as the
recipients of such alms, declined to distribute them, thinking that
it was better to do a little good in peace, than a great deal at the
cost of a little disturbance.

As spiritual director to Catherine, Dr. Blake seems rather to
hare kept behind his illustrious penitent to prevent a stumble, than
gone before her to beckon her onward. When first she consulted
him, slie not only had no idea of becoming a Religious, but a posi-
tive objection to such a step. We have seen how she became one,
and we shall soon see how she attracted hundreds to follow her
example. Even after his elevation to the bishopric of Dromore, he
continued her faithful friend, adviser, and consoler ; and no affair
of moment was undertaken at St. Mary's without the approbation
of the Lord Bishop of Drou'ore, who, notwithstanding his high and
arduous avocations, found time to counsel and befriend his spiritual
daughter, whom he regarded us the second among his country-
women — St. Bridget being the first. The mutual affection of these
two great souls never waned, each revered the other as a saint,
and their love was thoroughly in God and for God. Before his
departure to a brighter world, " the Angel of the Church of" Dro-
more had the consolation of founding a Convent of Mercy near his
residence in Newry. He always regarded the members of the
whole Order as his children, and never came among them anywhere
without reminding them of the sublime virtues of thek Foundress.
" Ah," he would S8.y, " what do any of us do in comparison with
what sde did? The all-cousuming love of Jesus burned in her
breast, and no one could approach her without catching some
sparks. She turned to account every grace, every opportunity of
doing good. Alas I she left us too soon ; but God's holy will be

he bad com-
md had some
with liim, he
r distribution,
d murmuring
recei\' ig the
though poor,
. select as the
thinking that
it deal at the

ims rather to
stumble, than
she consulted
us, but a posi-
e became one,
to follow her
f Dromore, he
and no affair
e approbation
; his high and
id his spiritual
f his country-
ection of these
her as a saint,
1. Before his
urch of" Dro-
tf ercy near his
ambers of the
;hem anywhere
eu* Foundress,
imparison with
burned in her
catching some
opportuaity of
I's holy will be

«»•■■• ')(..l«.UIill.i . «ll«i»t«»llHH.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

258

ever adored ! May we profit of her example stOl firesh before oar
minds, and be grateful for the favors He has so lavishly conferred
on us through her."

Bishop Blake survived the Foundress nearly twenty yeavs, and
was succeeded by a prelate hardly less friendly to the Order of
Mercy, Right B«v. John Pins Leahy, 0. P., late of St. Mary'a
Priory, Cork.

■i'MA . I,

CHAPTER XXVI.

Vlrtuen of the Foundress. — Fnith. — Hope.— Cliarity. — Prudence. — Juitioe.—
Fortitude.— Temperance.— Humility.— Obedience.— Chastity.— Poverty.— De-
votion to the F'lesiied Sacrament. — Anecdotes.

BEFORE speaking of the foundations which St. Mary's com-
menced to send out in 1834, we will glance at the virtues
conspicuous in the Foundress ; and, first, at her faith, a virtue
without which no other virtue can exist in the soul in a super-
natural manner. All we have related shows in how high a degree
she possessed this virtue. With immense obstacles, and at great
risks, she openly practised the Catholic faith as soon as it was
possible for her to be instructed in it ; and we have seen how ear-
nestly she strove, in season and out of season, to extend that bless-
ing to those who possessed it not, to preserve it in suc'i as had the
privilege of being baptized in it, and to induce all whom she could
influence to value that precious treasure as the greatest of Qod's
gifts. Her life wis but a continual effort to increase the house-
hold of that Faith, to instruct the ignorant in its sublime mysteries,
and to serve the poor through that motive of faith which caused
her to see Jesus Christ in His suffering members, who are His more
special representatives.

The theological virtue of hope was always con'<picuou8 in Cath-
erine. In childhood, it taught her to expect of God direction ii
her doubts, and a knowledge of the true path to heaven. Through
hope, she was willing to renounce all things to practise her faith.
Through hope, she scorned the many brilliant alliances offered her,
and devoted herself unreservedly to Him who has made such glo-
rious promises to those who choose Him for their portion. Hope
enabled her to part cheerfully with all she held dear ; it inspired
her with courage to undertake the most arduous enterprises ; it
suBtaioed her in her trials, and taught her to take np generously

.«.. -.u_

c«. — Juilioe.—
-Poverty.— De-

Mary's com-
; the virtues
itii, a Tirtae
il in a snper-
ligh a degree
and at great
)n as it was
seen how ear-
id that bless-
''i aa had the
om she could
est of God's
se the house-
me mysteries,
which caused
&re His more

lous in Cath-

direction iit

Through

se her faith.

offered her,

ade such glo-

tion. Hope

it inspired

terprises ; it

ip generously

the heaviest crosses. It gave joy to her heart and serenity to her
countenance ; it made her long to be with Christ, and, in her dying
moments, it infused such a foretaste of coming beatitude, that,
habitually reserved as she was concerning the sublime operations
of grace in her soul, she could not forbear exclaiming several
times : " Oh, if this be death, how could I have ever feared it I"

Charity, the greatest of virtues, th« only one we shall retain iu
• heaven, consists in loving Qod above all things, and our neighbor
for His sake. This virtue induced Catherine to devote herself to
works of mercy from her childhood, to abhor the very shadow of
deliberate sin, and to teach all whom she could attract within the
sphere of her influence, to love that Supreme Being to whom she
was entirely devoted. This divine love which burned within her
caused her to remain long rapt in profound contemplation of the
Eternal Lover of her soul. And because her arduous duties hin-
dered her from applying as she wished to this heavenly exercise,
she often rose from her bed* when sleep was sweetest, and pre-
vented the sun to bless God, while her companions still slumbered
It was this same love that imprinted on her countenance, while in
choir, or engaged in any duty which had more durect reference to
God, an expression of devotion and reverence which struck the
most casual observer.

Love urges us to procure the glory of God ; love will not per
mit us to be indifferent to the spiritual or even temporal prosperity
of our neighbors. Catherine, far fh)m being deficient in that zeal
which is not merely an accompaniment, but an integral part of
sanctity, burned with an ever-increasing desire for the salvation of
souls. Long and earnestly did she pray for the glory and exten-
sion of the Holy Catholic Church, the perfection of those com-

* *■ One of- the Sisten used to undertake the roBponHibillty of awaking the
othem; and tometimea, in the dark mornings, mistaking the hour, she used
to call tliem at tliroe instead of fDiir, na had been agreed on. To this, Catherine
fult no ohjootiun an regarded horaelf— tlie only privilege she ever sought among
the Sisters was to be permitted to rise earlier and work ntore. Un thpse oooa-
Bions, she would, instead of retiring to rest again, omp.oy herself lu prayoi', to
' nourish her soul ngninst the day's requirements ; and, if she found any of the
Bisters staying up too, slio would engage them to j( in her. This happened
ytry oiUn."— Marl)/ Dayt qf St. Jfary'$. Mothtr Mary V. harlntU.

256

LIFB OF CATHERIKB MOAULET.

mitted to her care, the conversion of sinners, and the relief ot
sonls in pnrgaiorj. That the Sisters might not forget their doty
of interceding, as it were, between God and sinners, she ordains in
the Rules, that even the novices be directed " to pray ccutinoally
for the intentions of the H0I7 Father and the propagation of the
Faith, and frequently to offer up Mass and Holy Communion for
these intentions." Her zeal for the spiritual advancement of the
Sisters was boundless. She often expatiated on the perfection
peculiar to the Institute, in whose members she desired to see
united the contemplative lives of the Carmelites with the active
zeal of a St. Vincent de Paul. "Religious Houses," lio would
say, "especially those founded for the service of tliu neighbor,
ought to be so many magnets to attract all hearts to Jesus Christ."

Some houses were slow in receiving subjects of great beauty or
talent, lest they should not be easily governed ; but Mother Mc-
Auley was always glad to admit beautiful or learned ladies, judg^
ing that the most lovely are not too lovely for Qod, and that the
more learned they were, the better they could draw souls to Him,
if, to their varied acquu^ments, they would consent to add the
beautiful lesson of our Redeemer : " Learn of Me, for I am meek
and humble of heart." Experience has proved that persons of
more than average literary ability are generally the most humble
and submissive ; and when a little trouble does occur in Religion,
it usually originates among the most illiterate and least pious.

When the Archbishop paid his Christmas visit to the community,
in 1836, looking around at the promising array of novices, most of
whom were known to him, he exclaimed, " I declare, Miss McAuley,
I really believe you are the greatest enemy the fashionable world
has." He might speak thus, for her Institute had already robbed
the parks and ball-rooms of their fairest ornaments.

To gain souls to God, Catlierine often used extraordinary means,
and she could say, with her friend the Apostle of Temperance, ♦' I
feel that no sacrifice, whether of health, or of property, or of life
itself, is too great to save from ruin or perdition the humblest of
those for whom our Saviour shed His most precious blood."

A counsellor of high repute in his profession, who had passed
most of his life in neglect ol:' his laligious duties, met with an acci*

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

95T

the relief ot
ret their duty
she ordains in
ly coatinoally
igation of the
ommaoion for
:ement of the
the perfection
lesired to see
th the active
!s," lie would
the neighbor,
Jesos Christ.'*
eat beauty or
t Mother Mc-
1 ladies, judg^

and that the
Bonis to Him,
it to add the
for I am meek
[at persons of
I most humble
ir in Religion,
ist pious,
he community,
avices, most of
tf iss McAuley,
liionable world
ilready robbed

rdinary means,
emperance, " I
erty, or of life
le humblest of
blood."

ho had passed
it with an acci»

dent, which almost cost his life. In youth, he unfortunately ob*
served some defects in clergymen, and confounding their doctrine
with their profession, he declared he would cease to belong to a
Church which tolerated such imporfections in its ministers. Ho
forgot that Priests, in their highest estate, are men, not angels,
and as men, and even as just men, liable to fail in many things ;
aqd obliged daily to repeat, " Forgive us our trespasses." Strange
as it may seem, no persons ever exact greater perfection of ecclesi-
astics and Religious than those who excuse themselves completely
ttom practices of piety. The sister of this gentleman besought
him with tears to see a Priest, but he replied that he would die aa
he had lived. At last, he offered to have an interview with Miss
McAuley, provided she consented to come in the- evening. Re-
membering how Jesus condescended to the weakness of his tim-
orous disciple Nicodemus, the Foundress, accompanied by a Sister,
drove to Merrion Square, where this gentleman resided, late in the
evening. Her words made such an impression on him, that he
promised all she required, and he fully redeemed his promises.

After she sent young persons to situations, she continued to
watch over their health and comfort with maternal solicitude. She
encouraged them to visit the convent frequently, and when she
could not see them herself, charged a Sister to bring her all infor-
mation concerning them ; and if she learned they were in any
danger, she would remove them from it. A young woman, whom
she sent to a situation, in 1833, suddenly refrained from calling at
St. Mary's. After being frequently sent for, she came one day in
a style of dress quite unsuitable to her position, and the next news
of her was, that she had left her situation, and gone to reside in a
quarter where no questions were asked of those who " paid thehr
way," how questionable soever the source of their revenues. This
frail creature was very handsome, bearing a remarkable resemblance

to a Miss , who was considered the belle of the capital some

thirty years ago. Her master, forgetful of his dignity as head of
a family, and his duty as a Christian, took advantage of her vanity,
and, by threats and persuasions, but chiefly by supplying her with

money " to dress lilce Miss C ," prevailed on her to admit his

addresses. He was of a very violent temper, and when Miss Mc-

258

LIFE OF CATHEBINE IfOAULET.

Aoley determined to make a last effort to rescne her protegee, uhe
deemed it imprudent ti rentore into bis presence anaccompanied
by a clergyman.

Accompanied by Dr. Blake, she set oat for the girl's new resi-
dence, where they arrived towards dusk. She knocked at the

drawing-room door, and being invited to enter, fonnd Mr. F

looking over the evening paper, the poor servant sitting at the op-
posite side of the table, "dressed like Miss G ." A blush of

deepest crimson overspread her whole countenance — shame, anger,
and remorse, mingled, perhaps, with a little gratitude for her bei
efactress, struggled within her. When the first shock was over,
she fainted.

" Ah, sir," said Catherine to Mr. F , " is it here you ought

to be ? Is this justice to your amiable wife and children ? Is this
the way you tamper with the virtue of a poor nnprotected crea-
ture ? Is it thus you respond to the confidence I placed in you
when I sent a good servant to yonr family V

He muttered something about " providing for the girl."

" Ah, sir," said she, with tears in her eyes, " you have robbed
her of her fair fame, which the wealth of a thousand worlds can-
not restore. Talk not of making reparation for such a wrong ;
you may repent of it, bat you cannot repair it."

Not in the least annoyed by her intrusion, he promised her that
he would never again commit such a crime, and taking up his hat
to leave, he innocently begged Miss McAuley would not mention
the matter to his wife.

When the poor girl recovered her consciousness, she cried out :
" What am I to do, ma'am 7 You cannot take me now, though '.'
have been here only a fuw hours. I know you coold not let me
among the girls again."

The Repentant creature sobbed bitterly. "If we cannot take
you home, my child," said the Foundress, " we can still provide for
you." Thus almost mi rf .culonsly rescued from destruction, she
evn after persevered in a virtuous course.*

• On another occasion, Mother MoAuley went, with a clergyman, on a slmi
lor nilsaion. When the young gfentleman, who wa» well known to her, aaw
the Prluat, he seiied a pUtol, and aworo to ehoot him if lie advanced • etep.

H^UiUv

ip%

protegee, she
inaccompanied

firl's new resi-
tocked at the

ind Mr. F

ting at the op-
" A blosh of
-shame, anger,
de for her bet
lock Y^as OTer,

ere yoa onght

Idren ? I8 this

wotected crea-

placed in yoa

I girl."

a have robbed
nd worlds can-
9ach a wrong ;

mised her that
ling np his hat
Id not mention

she cried oat :
now, though '.'
aid not let me

we cannot take
still provide for
lestruction, she

rg>man, on a slmi
nown to her, saw
I idvanocd • itep.

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE MCAULET.

Mother McAuley, to show Mr. F. that she relied on his word
of honor, sent a servant to his house next day, and she had no
cause to repent of it : she had such a way of trusting people and
working on their better qualities, that few could find it in their
hearts to disappoint the confidence she reposed in them. Some
years later, she accidentally met this gentleman. She had forgotten
the circamstances of the previous meeting, but he had not.

** Miss McAnley," said he, " I thank yoa for reclaiming me, and
I confess that I never knew what shame was till you confronted
me on that dreadful night. The remembrance of the look you
then gave me has put it out of my power to attempt a similar
offence. ITicU look will never leave my heart. It is my safe-
guard."

The zeal of the Foundress was not confined to any one department
of the Institute, and she rejoiced as much or more at the suc-
cess of others as at her own. Thus she wrote to the Superioress
of the Cork Convent : " I think the Institute over which you pre-
oIJ: will yet excel the poor old Mother House, St. Mary's; and I
sincerely hope it may.'* The same sentiment she frequently ex-
presses in her letters to the other houses.

A lady once entered St. Mary's on whom the hopes of another
convent were fixed. When Mother McAuley learned this, she
sent for her, and said :

" I cannot bear to keep yoa here, my child, the N Sisters aro

so disappointed at your not going to them. We want subjects
very much just now, but the prosperity of Baggot-street most
never be built on the disappointment of another convent."*

Mother MoAuley thea stepped forward, but he no sooner saw her than ks
dropped his weapon. " One look from Miss MoAuley in the greatest punish-
ment I could receive," said he, and he hurried off without waiting a second.
Mother McAuloy took the object of her solicitude to a safe place, and prqjrided
her with a situation as soon as she gave evidence of being thoroughly converted.
* On another occasion, the Foundress, after admitting a very desirable sub-
ject, received a letter from an ancient Religious, whose heart seemed bent oa
having this lady in her own Order, for which she believed her to have a voo«-
tion. Hearing that- her stay in the Order of Mercy was decided, she wrote »
very severe letter to Mother MoAuley, whom she taxed with using undue in-
laence on a generous, oonflding soul, and coaxing to her Order one who had n«i

260

LIFE OF CATHERINS M°1.XTLBT.

Yerily, the magnanimity of Catherine iras eqnal to her charity.

Fraternal charity is the proof that we love God, for " if we do
not lore our brother whom we see, how can we love God whom
we do not see V* Nataral kindness and benevolence Catherine
possessed in a high degree, but her heroic charity was the result
of constant effort to imitate the charity of Jesns. Her instmctiona
on this Tirtoe were sublime. She was never weary of expatiating
on the glorious description of charity given by St. Paul : " Charity
is patient, charity is kind," etc. It was the text of all her dis*
courses, and whatever other virtue she introduced, she always came
back to charity. " Love one another as I have loved you," she
would say, and then add : " If the blessed words of onr Divine
Lord ought to be reverenced by all persons, how much more by
Religions ! With what loving devotion should we treasure them
up in our hearts I What incessant effort should we not use to
reduce them to practice I He tells us to love as Be loved; can
we then place any bounds to our mutual affection 7" Again, she
would say : " Our charity should be cordial ; now cordial means
something that refreshes, enlivens, invigorates. If yon only love
each other cordially, you have heaven already."

On one occasion, two sisters, each over-anxious for the advance-
ment of her own charge, having displayed more zeal than the
circumstances warranted, Mother McAuley no sooner settled the
matter than she went to the choir to pray that the slightest mis-
understanding might never creep in among the Sisters; and that
night, while others slept, she was piostrate in the choir making
the same petition. God so fully blessed her efforts to preserve

voi^aHoii for it. " As for mygelf," she added, " I uonfeog that I do not find it
eaay to forgive you. You liave robbed me of tlie staif wliioh I had fondly
h6pcd would support my old age." The Foundreea was really grieved at the
affliction of tbia affectionate lady. She wrote a moat soothing reply, stating
that^he vocation of the postulant had been decided by her director, and es-
prensing the deepei<t regret for being iDstrnmental, though unconsoionsly, in
causing her pain. Believe mo, respected mother," she added, " so Air aa I
am concerned, I would gladly restore ' the staff' of which I have been so un-
fortunate as to rob you, but as the lady's director decides that her vocation is
to be a Sister of Mercy, you Itnow I could not presume to act against hia judg-
ment." Tlie good Keligiong not only forgave the " robbery," but apologised for
bar too hasty censures, and did not urge the restitution Airther.

) her charity,
or " if we do
e God whom
nee Catherine
'as the result
er instmctions
[>f expatiating
inl : " Charity
)f all herdir
e always came
Ted you," she
5f onr Divine
nuch more by
treasure them
we not use to
He loved; can
" Again, she
cordial means
' you only love

ir the advance-
zeal than the
ler settled the
slightest mis-
ters; and that
I choir making
rts to preserve

at I do not find it
liioh I had fondly
illy grieved at the
xng reply, Htating
' director, Bod ex-
unconsoionsly, in
led, " so far aa I
have been so un-
at her vocation is
against his Judg-
but apologized for

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEr.

881

charity, that towards the end of her life, she told a Sister in con-
fidence, that no breach of charity had ever occurred in the Order,
though its members then numbered hundreds. " This," she added,
"is our only boast." Wherever this boast can be truly made, there
is the Spirit of God.

She required that the manners of the Sisters should be particn-
lariy kind, genial, and affectionate ; that they should evince delight
in having an opportunity of serving, obliging, or even gratifying
each other. Her own manners were most pleasing and gracious,
and a perfect exemplification of what she required from others. At
recreation, she was the gayest of the gay. Her natural disposi-
tion was very lively, and no matter what her troubles were, she
never inflicted them on others. She habitually looked at the
brightest side of every thing. Her recollections of friends and early
days were all of a cheerful nature. She possessed in a high de-
gree the quality of being a most delightful raconteu»e. The
young Sisters delighted to hear her recount the stirring scenes of
her experience. When the/ asked her to tell a story, she inctantly
gratified them : when they wanted her to sing a song, she imme-
diately complied, though her musical performances, to which we
shall subsequently refer, were such as to provoke many a smile, even
from her simple auditors.

Mkbct was a word of predilection with her. "It has five
letters," she would say, " corresponding to the five Sacred Wounds
of onr Sweet Saviour ; it begins with J(f and ends with Y, like the
name of His Ever Blessed Mother. It is God's mercy that
renders His charity practical in our regard ; for what had His
charity profited us, if His mercy had not redeemed us ?"

One evening, the Sisters asked her to write them a verse on
Mercy. She immediately composed, quite impromptu, the fol-
lowing lines' :

^'- " Sweet Meroy, soothing, patient, mild and Itind, *

"^ Soften3 the high and lifU the fallen mind ;

' Knows with soil rein and even hand to guide,

Nor yields to feor, nor knows exacting pride ;
Not soon provoked, it easily forgives.
Is all to all, and with a look relieves ; ^

Soft peace it brings wherever it irrives,
Removes our pains, and crowns with joy our UvM I"

TS??

262

UFB OF OATHERINK MCAULBT.

" Mercy," she wonid say, " receives the nngratefnl again and
again, and is never weary of pardoning them. Oh, how kind, how
compassionate, how tender, how merciful, ought not we, Sisters
of Mercy, to be !"*

The Sisters who were at any time her companions on her mis-
sions of mercy, could nerer forget the tenderness with which she
addressed the poor. No disease was loathsome enou^'h to repel
her, no crune great enoagh to scandalize her. She would not al-
low the poor who were daily relieved at the convent to be put to
the smallest inconvenience. " We must not make them pay for
what we give them," said she. We do not give a ihing gratui-
tously when we put the recipients to unnecessary troabln ; on the
contrary, we make them pay very dearly for it. To bestow an
alms on a poor widow after having kept her waiting half an hour
in a cold hall, is not charity ; the miserable stipend is too well
earned. It was not thus the Saints assisted the poor. When some
Polish vassals had been robbed of their cattle, their prince, urged by
St. Hedwiges, his wife, ordered the restoration of the plunder, bat
did so at his own convenience. When he told his wife that he had
now satisfied them, the royal-hearted princess reproachfully replied :

" You have restored to them theur cattle, but who can restore
their tears ?"

The Fouudress liad the most beautiful considerateness for the
feelings of others.f ller mind was of that almost godlike nature*
that the more slie suffered from others, the more compassionate she
became. Some Superiors think fit to dismiss subjects whom they
find unsattable, without any warning, and without even giving the

* Mother McAnley nlways thought that Religious should strive to ba the
kindest people ia the world, but that SUttri of Mercy ought to be peculiarly
kind. Indeed, the very name HUttr of Mtrey could only humorously be ap-
plied to an unkit ' person, even though she wore the garb of one.

t There is an old lady in Chicago who knew Miss MoAuley more than half a
century ago. She is never weary of extolling her kindness, <&o. *' She was so
thoughtful," said she, " that noticing I always stood on the steps of Coolook
House when concluding a visit, both to enjoy the view and to hate a last few
words with her, she ordered n thick rug mat to be left on the stone floor of the
porch, lest I should cntoh cold while standing there, for I always wore very thin
sboeii." As this lady is in a very advanced stage of childi»hnut, her recolleo-
tious oould not with certainty be considered biogrBphioul.

il again and
)w kind, how
t we, Sisters

> on her mia-
th which she
a</\\ to repel
roald not al-
to be put to
them pay for
thing gratni-
nblo ; on the
ro bestow an
half an bonr
i is too well
When some
ince, urged by
3 plnnder, bat
fe that he had
lifuUy replied :
can restore

teness for the
;odlike natarei
ipassiouate she
;t3 whom they
iven givmg the

. strive to be the
; to be peonliarly
nmorously be »p-
>ue.

more thta half a
io. "She WHS M
steps of Coolook
o bate a last few
stone floor of tbe
lys wore very thin
nut, her recoUeo-

■'ij^ipyputHpnninii

LIFK OF CATHERINE MCAULKT.

368

reasons. She would never act thus. When she percived in nov-
ices symptoms of decaying fervor, she tried, first by every variety
of gentle means, and then by severe admoniti' n, to nin them
back. She studied their natural dispositions, carefully considering
whether their faults proceeded from ignorance or malice, from cul-
pable or inculpable self. If she found any one incorrigible, she
would not still dismiss her without showing Bcr every possible
kindness. " My dear chiki," she would say, " you have been here
now for so many months. You were told, from the first, what
would be expected from you, if permitted to persevere with us.
Now, you have not fulfilled our expectations, perhaps you could
not ; and it may be that you are not destined to work out your
salvation here, where we have to labor so much for the salvation
of others. Try some other convent, or see if your . ocation may
not be for the world. The votes of Religious communities are
usually considered as the manifestation of God's will ; they have
been against you here, but we will pray for you ; ami we wish you
to believe that your salvation, as well as the good of our Institute,
has influenced our decision."*

• In 1835, a niece of a prelate, whom the Foundress highly esteemed, entered.
She was under twenty, pious, rich, and tulentcd, but had such on inveterate
propensity for extravagant partialities, that she could scarcely live without
showing a particular friendship for some one or other, — on inconvenience the
Foundress sought to guard against in the Order, by ordaining that recreation
should always be token in coniiiion. The first objects of this passiou were
two very young postulonts, wiio were, in consequence, removed to another
house, — ft proceeding which so annoyed their now friend that she immediately
prepared to go home. The Foundress, know > l' that she hud a vocation, and
that her happiness in this world, and peiliai^ - her salvation in the next, de-
pended on the couroge witli which slie should strive to surmount the only ob-
stacle to her perseverance, reasoned with her, but to no purpose. Hoping tbe
temptation would pass away, she sought to detain her a few days, and, as .>he
was an excellent musician, asked her, as a favor, to remain to perform at a
ceremony to take nlace next morning, but received this ungracious reply: "If
I do not stay for my own oonvonienoc, you may -iire I sliall not stay to oblige
you." As the Foundress predicted, tliis lady became so unhappy in the world
that she sought admission to the Institute in Carlow. When consulted by the
Superioress of St. Leo's, Motlier Mc.\uloy said, " Take her, if you please ; we
a'B under obligations to her uncle, and cannot wll refuse to give her a trial ;
but she will not persevere." This lady, who ^ j living (1806), has since
made several novitiates in various Orders, but has uut been able to persevere io

^Lmmtt

264

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

Mother McAuley never dismissed any one for want of pecaniaiy
means. Like St. Teresa, she loved to receive those whose forfainefl
were small, unless, indeed, the ecclesiastical anthoritiey interfered,
which sometimes huppened. In 1832, a friend of Dr. Blake's was
Bent from a convent for want of fortanc : when he mentioned this
to Mother McAnley, she qaietlj said :

" We shall be lAppy to give her a trial here, Father,"

" But she has not any property,"

"No matter — send her." . ~ ,. *.= ;i-

When he withdrew, she remarked to a Sister near her :

" Whoever Dr. Blake sends will bring a blessing on the house.".

Next day he called, and handed seven hundred poun^ to the
Sister in the parlor, saying : ., : , y. - •.

" I got this from a basket-maker who died last uight ; pray for
him. Miss McAnley will make a better use of it than I."

A B«ligions still living (1866) once mentioned to the Foundress
a pecuniary embarrassment of a certain convent. Having learned
that their liabilities were about eighty or ninety pounds, she imme-
diately sent the poor nuns a hundred pounds.

Before she had any idea of becoming a Religious, a priest, with
whom she was slightly acquainted, told her he was anxious to build
schools in his parish, but complained that poverty placed a barriei;
to his zeal. She gave him five hundred pounds, saying :

" Commence the good work, and God will do the rest."

Even when she had to provide for the successful operation of
the many charitable works she herself had originated, she could not
bear to think that Religious were in distress. One day the Arch-
bishop informed her that the funds of a neighboring convent were
in a very precarious state.

" The nuns themselves are to blame," said he, a little sternly ;
"had there been good management, their income was quite ade-
quate to their wants. Were I speaking to another, I would ad-

imy. She has been terribly punished for tho abuse of gmoo that first sent her
baolc to t 10 world, and would gladly enter any house of the Order, that sho
might at least die ainonf; those with whom she ought to have lived ; but the
Order, mindful of the prediction of tlio Foundress, has never run the risk of
giving her a third trial.

it of pectnuary
whose foriunes
itiea interfered,
)r. Blake's was
mentioned this

tier."

ir her :

on the house.".

pounds to the

light ; pray for
lan I."

) the Foundress
Having learned
auds, she imme-

18, a priest, with
anxiona to build
placed a barrieK

ying :

e rest,"

;ful operation of

id, she could not

e day the Arch-

ng convent were

a little sternly ;
B was quite ade-
lier, I would ad-

s that firet Bent her
the Order, that sho
have lived ; but the
iver run the risk of

LIFE OF CATHEBINE MCAULET.

rise that the expenditure be always a little below the receipts, and
that, while nothing essential to health or good order be wanting,
superfluities be entirely retrenched. Bat I have never spoken to
you on this subject, because I place entire reliance on your pru-
dence and discretion."

The same day a letter reached her from the convent his Grace
had alluded to, asking a loan of two hundred pounds to pay some
pressing debts. She immediately sent it. A Sister present asked
her if she thought the money would ever be paid. The generous
Foundress replied :

" Oh no, they will never be able to pay it. I would send it as
a present, only they might be pained. I can easily let them know,
in a few days, that we will not ever claim it ; and if it helps to
keep them together, it will be the best alms we ever bestowed."

Except where charity was really needed, however, Mother
McAuley could be as penurious as a miser. • She would not oblige
her own relations with a small loan, unless it were to pay some
pressing debt or procure something really necessary ; and even
then she required payment, for she always said, even before she
had made a vow of poverty, that whatever she possessed belonged

to the poor, to whom she had made it over. Lady E onco

asked her for a loan of five pounds. In a mild but decisive tone
she refused her ladyship, saying :

" The wealth I have belongs to God and His poor. I cannot
even loan it for worldly purposes, deeply as I regret to disoblige
your ladyship."

Lady E had already squandered a fortune at the card-table,

hence the Foundress would scruple to loan her the trifling sum of
five pounds, though it was most painful to her to disoblige any
one.

Though several of Mother McAuley's associates were admitted
without fortunes, and though not a few owed to her bounty the
education which fitted them for their position, she fulfilled in their
regard the counsel of the Holy Ghost : " Have they made thee a
ruler ? Be not lifted up ; be as one among them." There was in
her a complete absence of that superciliousness, that arrogant aa-
Bumption of superiority^ that standing on her toes to show " how

266

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

tall she was above them all," which mark a plebeian mind even in
an empress, bnt which superficial observers mistake for dignity.
She was never obliged to resort to such vulgar means for tlie pur-
pose of keeping people in their places ; a gentlewoman never is ;
she takes her own place quietly, and others naturally fall into
thebs. She can yield, she can submit, she can wash the feet of
her inferiors, without " losing her place," because there is an inde-
Suable something about her which awes even while it inspires
affection and esteem.

Did the Saints lose their dignity by being sweet, affable, and be-
nign to all around them ? We thin'c not. Yet they, especially
those who lived most among their kind, were remarkable for this
gracious deportment. Whether they earned heaven in a kitchen,
like St. Zita, or graced a throne, like St. Margaret of Scotland :
whether they sprang from the most degraded class, like the Peni-
tent of Cortona, or ensanguined the baptismal robe with martyr's
blood, like the gentle child St. Agnes ; whether bred at the
plough; like St. Vincent, or in a feudal castle, like the sweet Saint
of Geneva ; whether they passed their lives in a desert, like the
first Hermit, or exchanged the sword of the cavalier for the sword
of the spirit, like the brave soldier of Loyola ; whether they
begged their bread, like the sainted LabrS, or wielded a sceptre>
like the last of the crusader kings ; whether, in fine, they offered
fair children to martyrdom, like St. Felicitas, or served God in
the cloister, like St. Teresa, — one and all, they were distinguished
for this exquisite refinement.

Look at her whom the Church pre-eminently styles Lady. Is
not Our Lady, Mater Amdbilis as well as Mater Creatoria f
Did she lose her dignity in condescending to visit her aged c-«u8in ?
And even when the Holy Ghost reveals what she so dexterously
concealed, far from assuming the superiority duo her, she tolls Elis-
abeth that she is only His handmaid, His slave. Saintly people
know but one model greater than this divine handmaid ; that
model )"? her adorable Son, who " came to serve, not to be served,"
and whose own divine hands washed the feet of Hi> low-born, on*
couth, and ignorant discipk.'i.

But to return to our subject.

,'i^

ii I'smrnm^mmmmia-'K'.': f liTiSJianj-saara

LirE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

267

aind even in
for dignity.
1 for t'.ie pur-
an never is ;
ally fall into
ii the feet of
ire is an inde-
le it inspires

fable, and be-
ley, especially
:able for this

in a kitchen,
of Scotland :
like the Peni-
with martyr's

bred at the
le sweet Saint
Bsert, like the
for the sword
whether they
Ided a Bceptre«
B, they offered
icrvcd God in
I distinguished

les Lady. Is
T Creatoria f
: aged c ""usin ?
so dexterously
, she tolls EUe-

Saintly people
indmoid ; that

to be served,"
I low-born, un-

The prudence of Catherine was a marvel even to the wise.
Bishops, doctors, and persons of high standing generally adopted
her views, after conferring a little with her. She never made an
appointment that she was obliged after to revoke ; and this is what
few m a similar position could say, for though God gives Superiors
His authority. He does not alwaya give them His patience, His
•wisdom, His foresight. It was her heavenly prudence that caused
her to fix her eye on God, and to regard every event from His
point of view, to seek His glory in all things, and to remove from
those under her charge every occasion of offending Him. To the
prudence of the serpent she united the simplicity of the dove, ab-
horring the very shadow of duplicity.

'ihe cardinal virtue of justice teaches us "to give to Coesar what
belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God." Strictly
speaking, we can hardly be just towards God, for " what have we
that we have not received ?" and what can we give Him that is
not already His by many titles ? But towards her neighbor,
whom she regarded as God's substitute, she was not only just but
generous. She regarded herself merely as the administrator of
the vast wealth she inherited. From an inherent love of justice,
she exacted from each of her Sisters a perfect observance of the
Rules and Constitutions, proportioning the labor of every one to
her grace and strength, and careful never to exceed her authority
by imposing any thing that the Rules and Customs* did not
ordain.

Yet, with a holy dissimulation, she appeared not to notice many
things calculated to ruffle the peace of one less perfect ; and, in n
spiritual sense, she fully appreciated the wisdom of that royal
maxim : " He who knows not how to dissemble, knows not how
to reign.". Her temperance it will be unnecessary to describe,

■* Tho Customs woro not tlion writtoii in full, though Uioy lind beon obHorvod
from tho fliBt uudor the titlo of " Genorul DirootionM." They were nil oollectod
after tho death of tho Foundress, iind are now liicorporntod into n work styled
"A QulJo for tlio UeligloiiH onllud Sisters of Mercy," a sort of oomiiicntnry on
the Iliile, written with ?niioli eloganco and perKpieuity by Mothef' Fninoes Rridi;-
inan, of Kinsalo. " Tho Guido" was adopted by a general olinptor of the Or-
der which met in Limerick, 1804, and has betn generally rewivod by the oon-
ventB of the Order

I t

'i,

lii

^&l

268

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

since we shall hare to speak of her heroic mortification ; and foiv
titade, the "atural result of a high degree of confidence in Qod,
was the characteristic virtue of her life.

Such was her chastity, that in all the varied events ot her che-
quered life no one accused her of the slightest levity of word or act.
Though most friendly und affable in manner, there was ever a holy
reserve about her which seemed like the veil of her modesty.
Her virtue was above all suspicion, yet she was most cautious.
When gentlemen called, she saw them in the public parlor, usually
crowded with other visitors. When bishops or other distinguished
persons, Mends and benefactors, as Dr. Blake, Dr. Fitzgerald,
came to confer with her on matters important to the Order, she
generally received them in the community-room, which being very
spacious, business might be transacted at the upper end without
being heard by such Sisters as might be translating, illuminating,
working or studying in silence at the community-table. The As-
sistant or some other Sister was always with her on these occa-
sions, which were of fi':!quent occurrence. Sometimes four or five
bishops met together at St. Mary's, and all were received with that
def'ei-ential courtesy and urbanity which ever distinguished her, but
which were not unmingk 1 with reverence when she treated with
ecclesiaotics.

In instructing on the angelic virtue of chastity she was very con-
cise, confining her remarks chiefly to modesty of deportment and
guard of the senses. Of the latter she spoke much, yet she did
not wish the Sisters to close their eyes so as to neglect duty ; and
if she observed a cobweb on the corridor, or a map hanging awry
in the schools, it would be little use for the Religious in charge of
either department to allege custody of the senses as an excuse.
SI>e knew that she " who feareth God neglecteth nothing,'' espe-
cially nothing that concerns her duty to her neighbor.

From love of religious modesty, she desired that every thing in
the Sisters' dress should be neat, though poor and coarse ; a patch
awkwardly put on, a rent, the smallest want of personal neatness,
was a grav*' fault in her eyes, because these things are offensive to
the neighbor, and calculated to lessen the opinion seculars have, ot
ought to have, of the religious state.

tion ; and for*
ience in God,

ts ot her che-
of word or act.
vas ever a holy
F her modesty,
most cautious,
parlor, usually
er distinguished
Dr. Fitzgerald,
the Order, she
hich being very
)er end without
\g, illuminating,
able. The As-
on these occa-
nes four or five
ceived with that
guishcd her, but
ihe treated with

ihe was very con-
deportment and
uch, yet she did
gleet duty, and
ap hanging awry
ious in charge of
)B as an excuse.
\ nothing," espe-
jor.
it every thing in

coarse ; a patch
icrsonal neatness,
i are offensive to

seculars have, ot

■ mit«.)wn,mii i ua<!mt.ii>

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULEY.

269

Before she had any idea of founding a Convent, her brother
having called one day, observed a young person of respectable rank,
but very disorderly habits, to whom Baggot-street was then giving
temporary protection. With a gesture, expressive of disgust, he
said to his sister :

" Kitty," for thus her own family always addressed her, " you

' say that I know nothing abont convents ; but I will become their

warmest advocate from this moment, if their purpose is to mcar-

cerate girls like that, who are unfit to live among civilized people,

and are a burden end an eye-sore to all respectable society."

This was severe, considering that it was evoked by a passing
glance at a young lady fairly well educated, and of good family,
though reduced, but who was deficient in the little arts of putting
on her clothes tidily, keeping her luxuriant hair in order, and putting
her boot-lices out of sight. Mother McAuley often commented
on it, remarking, that if Religious gave seculars room to speak in
such a manner, or to hint that they had entered religions houses
only because they were unfit for good society, all their influence for
the glory of God and the good of souls was at an end. She would
not think any piety worth much, if it were accompanied by neglect
of duty, or any thing else calculated to disedify the neighbor.
" The most emuient spiritual persons," said she, " have not a higher
idea of what Religions ought to be than many fashionable persons
have ; who, if they observe any thing below their standard, will
contemn the religious state, and impute to thousands the defects
they perceive in one." The astute Greeks, when they saw illit-
erate men assume the garb of philosophy, exclaimed, "I see the
cloak and the beard of the philosopher, but where is the philosopher
himself ?" In the same way, when seculars see the Religious habit,
they presently begin to look for the Religious.

The great works the venerated Foundress performed, far from
raising any motions of vain-glory, made her fear lest, while show-
ing to others the way to heaven, she herself might become a cast-
away. When it became her painful duty to admonish the Sisters of
any fault, she did so mildly and impressively, and made no further
allusion to it. When any of them applied to her in doubt, trouble,
or anxiety about any thing, spiritaal or temporal, she gave the

270

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

necessary direction or consolation, very sweetly, bat in as few
words as possible, for she was always very scrupulous about the
use of her time. She might have said, with Isaiah : "God hath
given me a learned tongue, whereby to support with a word him
that is weary ;" but if one word would serve her purpose in these
private conferences, she would not like to use two.

Nothing pleased her more than to be treated as a person of no
account. One day, some ladies of distinction called to visit her,
but as she was suflfering from an attack of erysipelas in the feet,
she could not receive them. On being shown through the house,
they found her knitting in the community-room, and one of them
having addressed her in a tone of great respect, said, with evident
disappointment :
•' We thought we should be able to see the celebrated Miss Mc-
' Auley, of whom such wondciful reports arc being circulated."
" Of Miss McAuIey ?" returned the Foundress ; " why, she is a
most common-place person, I assure you."

" But," said another of the party, " did she not build this house,
and devote her fortune to the poor <"'

" The botise was built by architects and workmen," was the re-
ply ; " and if you hear any more fine things about Miss McAuley,
do not credit them, for she is quite incapable of doing any thing
worthy of notice."

The ladies retired, congratulating themselves that they were the
first to discover how erroneously the public estimated Miss Mc-
Auley's labors and sacrifices. Respect for the humility of her
jj^other prevented the Sister who accompanied them from informing
them, that the Eeligious who sat in the community-room, her ban-
daged feet resting on a stool,— her hands busily plying her knittings
needles, lest she should involuntarily lose a moment of her precious
time, and her mind, no doubt, "musing on many things" concerning
the glory of God and the salvation of eouls,— was the person whose
fame drew them thither, but who, unconscious of her innate worth,
was the most humble and unpretending member in the Institute.

On one occasion, happening to reprove a sister a little sternly in
the presence of others, a few hours aflu., she sent for all who had
beard the reproof, and in their presence, humbly knelt to ask pa^

it in as few
tus about the
: " God hath
li a word him
rpose in these

I person of no
id to viat her,
OS in the feet,
gh the house,
I one of them
3, with evident

ated Miss Mc-
rcuiated."
" why, she is a

uild this house,

sn," was the re-
Mi8s McAuley,
iomg any thing

t they were the
ated Miss Mc-
mmility of her
1 from informing
r-room, her ban-
ng her knitting-
, of her precious
ngs" concerning
lie person whose
er innate worth,
the Institute,
little sternly in
for all who had
Icnelt to ask par*

LIFE OP CATHERINB MCAULEY,

don of her whom she uad corrected. The Religious, amazed at
this deep humilitv, bleRsed God foi baring giren them a Superior
who was able " to do and to teach."

Endowed with all the rare qualities requisite for governing others,
she always believed herself unequal to the task. When her first
term of oflSce expired, she entreated permission to resign her
• authority to some one more ca] le of exercising it ; but neither
the Archbishop nor the community would hear of it.* From the
first, she sought to evade the dignity of Superior, and when
obliged by obedience to accept it, she forbade the Sisters to prac-
tise in her regard many demonstration^ of respectf in use in other
Institutes. Some years later, it being represented to her, that if
these little points of conventual etiquette were habitually omitted,
discipline might suffer, she permitted them to be practised.

One of her first companions had a habit of addressing her as
" Ma'am," or " Madam." This title from one of her children she
could not endure. " Well, what shall I say 1" asked the Sister ;
" How shall I address you V " Say 'yes,' or ' no,' very politely,"
rejoined the Foundress ; " that will be quite suflScient."

When it was first discussed among the friends of the Order to
send an appeal to Rome to have Catherine McAuley declared Ven-
erable, several were of opinion that she would use her power in
heaven to prevent this. A Religious, who witnessed several cures
wrought by her relics, writes :

" Wo often 8mil( at wLat we believe to be Reverend Mother
McAuley's plan. She cannot find it in her heart to leave the suf-
ferer in paiu, while she seems equally deternuned to lead the hidden
life, and, therefore, she obtains the cure, but in such a manner that
we cannot prove it to be done by her ; she obtams it certainly, but
not inatqntaneously."

This extract from the letter of one| who knew and loved her, is
a beautiful tribute to her compassionate charity and her profound

• Suporiom are chosen trlenniMly in the Order of Meroy. The election takes
plnoe during the Octavo of tlio AsoenBion, probiibly beoanno it wnH during tiist
period that MattiiiLH wna olioscn to tlie apostlcHhip, as wo road in the Acts,

t Sncli aa the KeligiouB all rising when tlie Superior entera the room, ifco.

t Mother Mary Vinocnt, Hosoommon.

;

mmm

272

LIFK OF OATHEBINBl MCAULET.

hnmUity. The opinion expressed that she will work against her
own beatification, reminds us of something similar related in the
Life of St. Vincent.

A gentleman having told an old galley-slave, who remembered
the Saint, that Father Vincent was about to be beatified, was aur
swered by an incredulous smile.

" You do not believe it," said the gentleman ; " do yon not
think Monsieur Vincent was holy enough to deserve this honor ?"
" Holy enough ? Yes, but Father Vincent will never allow it ; he
was too humble."

All the Doctors of the Sorbonno could not pronounce a more
eloquent eulogium on this Apostle of Charity.

Mother McAuley strove, by yielding as much as possible to
others, to practise obedience. She was a most punctual observer
of rule, and was ever submissive to her ecclesiastical Superiors,
Lest, amid her engrossing occnpationa, she should forget her own
perfection, she ordered a Sister to admonish her whenever she
perceived her to fail in any thing whatever. This, the zealous
Sister scrupulously did ; and whenever the Foundress happened to
be absent, though on the most urgent duty, she would make atone-
ment with the greatest humility and sweetness, when reminded of
her r-iintentional defect by her spiritaal daughter.

On^ day, having mentioned some suggestion to the Archbishop
with which he did not seem inclined to comply, she immediately
changed the subject. On his departure, a Sister present said in
a tone of great disappointment :

" Now, Reverend Mother, that's always the way with you. No
matter how anxious you are about a thing, when Dr. Murray
comes, you agree to all he says without asking him a second
time."

" Yes," said the Foundress, " and if he were to tell me to have
this house pulkd down, and to build it up another way, I should
set about it immediately."

" What I pull down this house, after all your trouble ?"

" No trouble is too great, when obedience is concerned," was the
reply.

Rigorous to herself, she desired that the Sisters should disre-

>rk against her
related in the

remembered
atified, was an*

"do yon not
e this honor ?"
er allow it ; he

ononnce a more

as possible to
nctaal obserrer
tical Superiors,
forget her own
r whenever she
lis, the zealous
3ss happened to
aid make atone*
len reminded of

the Archbishop
she immediately
present said in

' with you. No

in Dr. Murray

him a second

tell me to haro
ir way, I should

)uble ?"
icrned," was the

8 should disre-

LIFE or CATHEBINB MOAUIJST.

273

gard the temporal conveniences, bat nothing could exceed her kind-
ness to the sick, whom she sought to relieve by every contrivance
the heart of a fond mother could suggest. If a Sister had a slight
cold, or a bad appetite, or looked pale, she noted it, and forthwith
procured change of air, or whatever other remedy seemed best
adapted. As soon as the least delicacy became apparent, she sought
, the remedy, never waiting till the sufferer was beyond cure. Her
letters teem with such passages as these :

" Sister A has had a restless night." " Sister C did not

sleep till near four this morning." " Sister E has just that sort

of cough that change of air removes, but as she has had it rather
too long, she must go to Carlow for a few days." These show the
minute care she bestowed on all who confided their health and
happiness to her keeping. Of her own sufferings, she speaks just
about as much as she does of her interior graces.

Her love of poverty was quite conspicuous. Careful to have her
exterior dress suited to tl\e dignity of her state, her under-clotbiag
was of '' ' meanest deso-iption, and she always chose for herself
whatever w^o moot 'i;convenient. She made and mended every
article of her clothing, though, having no time during the day, she
was generally obliged to steal somewhat from the night for this
purpose. She made a regulation that all the Sisters should learn
to make their own clothing, saying that poor people always did so,
and that Religious, who are poor for the love of God, ought not
to allow themselves to be outstripped by such as are poor by ac-
cident. Labor she considered an essential ingredient of true
poverty. At first, she would allow no recreation after dinner,
sayiug, that being poor people, " we ought to work all day like
the poor," but as the Archbishop considered this arrangement
rather too severe, she permitted a short recreation between dinner
and office, as seen by the letter in which she details the duties or
the day. She waj very particular that the strictest economy
should be observed in every department of God's House, as she
called the convent, not from 'hriftiness of disposition, b«t from
zeal for the perfect observance of poverty. '♦ Religious houses,"
she would say, " arc houses of poverty, not of plenty." Even
in her care of the sick, she was mindful of this virtue, and wheu

12*

«■

374

LIPB OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

a phTsician prescribed change of air for her beloTBd niece, Mary
Teresa, there being then no second convent of the Order, she
made him this memorable reply :

" Doctor, will yon be kind enoagh to select remedies suitable
for poor people. We may, indeed, be able to procure necessaries,
or even comforts for oar inralids, but we could hardly afford to
take lodgings for them, and the Sisters who would be required to
nurse them."

Her meals were so scanty, that those who sat near her in the
refectory described them as " nominal." From a spirit of charity
and humility, she generally carred for the whole community, and
consequently all had nearly finished dinner before sho could com-
mence. She rarely had a cell to her own use; and when she had,
she was ready to yield it up for any one's accommodation. When
new Sisters arrived, if there happened not to be cells enoagh for
all, she would give hers to one of them, and take her rest in an
old arm-chair of Mr. Callahan's, that remained in the infirmary.
When founding convents, she chose the poorest mode of travelling,
and her bed was generally the bare boards. She never waited till
the convent was made comfortable. So g^eat and so well known
was her confidence in the boundless goodness and mercy of God,
that the late Bishop of Cork always styled her " The Sister of
Divine Providence."

She continually exhorted the Sisters to small acts of mortifica*
tion, saying that it was rarely in their power to practise great
ones ; while small ones were always within their reach. She said
that the Sisters should let no day pass without practising in the
refectory "little, imperceptible acts of mortification," but only
Bach as were not calculated to injure the health, which our duty
to our neighbor obliges us to preserve ; and she gave them a list
of mortifications of this nature. *' Little unseen mortifications,"
said she, " when habitual, are better calculated to subdue nature,
than rigid austerities practised but rarely ; and these being
unknown save to God, have a grea^ advantage over those
which often excite vanity by their very ardiiousncss." The first
•nd greater*, of all mortifications, she considered to be fidelity to
the common life, and unless a Sister was able to rise at the ap*

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULBY.

276

id niece, Mary
he Order, she

nedies suitable
ire necessaries,
irdly afford to
be required to

near her in the

ipirit of charity

iommnnity, and

8h«! could com-

when she had,

jation. When

;ells enough for

her rest in an

the infirmary.

le of travelling,

lerer waited till

so well known

mercy of God,

'The Sister of

3ts of mortifica*

practise great

sach. She said

ractising in the

ion," but only

which our duty

rave them a list

mortifications,"

subdue nature,

md these being

age over those

ess." The first

to be fidelity to

rise at the ap-

pointed time, be content with the common fare, and apply diligently
to her duty, she would give her no permission to practise other
mortifications.

Her devotion to the Blessed Sacrament was intense. She
deemed it a high privilege to live day and night under the same
roof with Jesus hidden in the Adorable Sacrament of his love.
• She ordained that meditation, office, eyo'-.ens, etc., be made in
choir, that frequent visits be made daily • common, and that no
considerable portion of the day be allowed to elapse without
" paying court to Jesus on the throne of His love." The Rules
beantifally express her sentiments on this subject :

" In all thcu* sufferings and anxieties, in all their fears, afflictions,
and temptations, the Sisters shall seek consolation at the foot of
the altar, where He lovingly in\ ites them, in these words : ' Come
to Me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you."
It grieved her to see that any Sister absented herself through
Bcropulosity from this heavenly banquet, and she took great pains
to correct the rigorous views sometimes held of our meek and
merciful Saviour. " Without the Blessed Sacrament," said she,
" perseverance is impossible. It is by means of the graces received
therein, that our spiritual life is maintained, and that we are en-
abled to persevere in our holy state." The -number of days of gen-
eral communion were usually four or five a week. At times of
special devotion, as the Octave of Corpus Christi, the retreat
before profession, etc., the Sisters, with the permission of their
director, communicated daily. Mother McAuley was never absent
from Holy Communion on the appointed days, but such was her love
of the common life, that she never approached the Holy Table at
other times. When travelling on days of general communion, she
thought nothing of fasting till after one, and walking several miles
in the snow, as she did in Limerick, 1837, rather than lose once
the happiness of communicating. She remarked of converts, that
many of them did not seem fully to comprehend the instructions
given them until they Lad received the Holy Sacraments, after
which their doubts and difficultns^isappeared. She was solicitoos
that the Sisters should avail themselves of every opportunity of
instructing the poor in the nature of the Bacramenta, and of ex-

:< :

276

I,IPE OP CATHERINE JJCAULET.

horting them to approach them frequently, and with dae disposip
tions, saying that the happiness of the poor, here and hereafter,
depended on this. The chapel and the choir she had kept iu the
neatest order, appropriately bat not very richly decorated. The
music to be performed on feast-days, and at Benediction, she re-
quired the Sisters to practise very carefully, and appomted a
special time for this, as for every other duty. She desired that
every thing in the immediate neighborhood of the Blessed Sacra-
ment should breathe an air of reverent piety, and directed that
the Sisters should enter the chapel, as it were cautiously and
noiselessly ; that the solemn stillness should not be disturbed;
if possible, even by quickness of movement or the rustling of gar-
ments. She used to remark that all Religious owed a special
devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, because, but for it, they could
not persevere iu their vocation; and she would add, " Protestants,
however well-disposed, can have no Religious community among
them, because they have no Blessed Sacrament." Truly, in this
Adorable Sacrament, Jesus is the " wheat of the elect, the wine
that maketh vvgins."

Mother McAuley's sanctity was so perfectly natural in appear*
ance, that it sat on her like a garment. There was nothing forced
or constrained about her. Her letters, too, are exquisitely natural ;
not a far-fetched or affected sentence can be found in them. She
disliked high-sounding aspirations in prayer, and every thing that
savored of being over-wrought. To a Sister who had a tendency
to use the sublime style, she observed that simple language was
much more devotional; and in place of something very exalted
which that Sister was writing, she suggested : " Mortify in me,
dear Jesus, all that is displeasmg to Thee, and make me according
to Thine own heart's desire."

Such was her spirit of sacrifice, her ardent desire to suffer as
well as to act for God, that the heaviest crosses, when laid upon
her shoulders, forced from her lips, not the language of complaint,
nor even of resignation, but the liturgy of praise. She seemed,
from childhood, as if sent iuto the world for the use and benefit
of others, not for her own ; and all who knew her, concur in testi-
fying thf^t she was the most unselfish of haman beings. Naturally,

"mm

th dne disposi>
and hereaftor,
id kept in the
jorated. The
liction, she re-
id appointed a
le desired that
Blessed Sacra-
I directed that

cautiously and
, be disturbed;
rustling of gar-
9wed a special
ir it, they could
, " Protestants,
umunity among
Truly, in this

elect, the wine

tural in appear
18 nothing forced
inisitely natural ;
d in them. She
every thing that
a had a tendency
)le language was
ing very exalted
" Mortify in me,
ake me according

esire to suffer as
, when laid upon
age of complaint,
se. She seemed,
e use and benefit
er, concur in testl-
eings. Naturally,

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

277

she possessed all ths beautiful traits in which the Irish character is
rich, without any of the shades that in too many instances obscure
or obliterate them ; supernaturally, grave divines spoke and still
speak of her heroic sanctity. But in her " the supernatural com-
bined with nature, instead of superseding it." Nature sketched
what grace colored and worked up to such high perfection, without
, erasing a siugle touch which nature, or rather nature's God, had
given to her beautiful character.

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3 . «*

CHAPTER XXVII.

■:"■

&i;

Tlic First Brnnch.— The wreck off Diinlcnry linrbor. — Tlio excommunication,
niid its consequences. — Sussex-place House. — Triiils.— Motlier MoAuley hiding
from the sheriff. — Her letters. — A beautiful specimen. — Kingstown convent
reVmciuished. — KcopcncJ. — Olasthulo.

KINGSTOWN, the beautL^ul harbor of Dublin, was the first place
outside the capital to which the Foundress extended the bene-
Cts of her Institute. Many years previous, circumstances had oc-
curred which were peculiarly deleterious in their effects on the
poorer classes of this delightful suburb. A richly freighted vessel
was wrecked in sight of Dunleary* harbor, and though not a pas-
senger was left alive to tell the fate of the crew, the cargo was
uninjured, and the greater portion of it could bo traced to living
owners. The clergy forbade their flock to appropriate any of it,
and urged the sailors arid fishermen in ^.hc vicinity to assist in sav-
ing it for its rightful possessors. Several disobeyed, and having
seized as much booty as they could carry, refused to restore any.
The priests were obliged to resort to very severe measures. An
excommunication was threatened, and, if we mistake not, issued,
against the plunderers, who, continuing obstinate, reared their chil-
dren in ignorance of that religioiv whoso precepts they refused to
obey, and separated themselves, in reality, if not in name, from the
fold of Christ. Several clergymen represented to tho Foundress
the spiritual destitution and moral degradation of these poor crea-
tures, who, though within a few miles of the refined capital, were
leading a half savage life, as though they were beyond the pale of
Christianity and civilization. She visited Kingstown, and found

Kingstown w«b culled Dunlonry previous to the visit of Qoorge IV. in 1880.
Cove heoemo Qurtnttown, when luii royal niece landed there some tnirty yean
later.

mmnnicntion,
jAuley hiding
;own convent

le first place

2d the bene-

ces had oo-

ects on the

pchted vessel

h not a pas-

e cargo was

id to Uring

;e any of it,

ssist in sav-

|and having

•estorc any.

isurcs. An

not, issaed,

their chil-

rcfused to

[e, froin the

Foaudress

poor crea-

,pital, were

;he pale of

and found

IV. in 1890.
I tiiirty yaara

-immmim

T|-rliiin niiW

ssss

LIFE OF CATHEKINE MCAULET.

279

the reality much worse than the description. There being no
Catholic school there, Rev. Mr. Walsh,* one of the curates, ear-
nestly besought her to establish ouc ; and to this she consented,
provided that the people would co-operate in such a manner as to
share the expenss with her. The pastor, who was old and delicate,
for a long time refused to assist except by his patronage, but he
at last ojfered " to do something." Father Walsh, interpreting
' this too liberally, advised her to take it as the promise o^ a man
of few words, who usually did more than he said ; and the wretched
state of the poor people had so strongly excited her sympathy, that
she could not refuse. At her own expense she purchased Sussex-
place House, a beautiful residence on the beach, with ground suf-
ficient for schools. The latter once commenced, progressed rap-
idly, and ill 1 834 the Sistcro were able to undertake the education
of three hundred children, for it was through their innocent hearts
that they hoped to reach their hardened parents.

Sussex-place House became St. Patrick's Convent. About six
Sisters usually resided there, — schools, visitation of the sick, and
instruction of adults being their principal occupations. A com-
plete change was soon visible in the poor. Things weut on hap-
pily for about four years. Meanwhile, the debt contracted in
erecting the school house continued to accumulate, no local efforts
being made to liquidate it. This and other circumstances com-
bined to make St. Patrick's, notwithstanding the good effected, a
source of unceasing anxiety to the Foundress. It was not always
easy to select Sisters suited to the peculiarities of the place, and
a change was not made without difiSculty.

Once, when Mother McAuley, who had duties to perform to-
wards hei' spiritual, children as well as towards the crude fishing
people of the rocks, deemed it expedient to recall a Sister to St.
Mary's, one of the clergymen became so indignant that he ex-
pressed his disapprobation of the Foundress in no very gentle
terms, and withdrew his patronage from the schools. When the
presiding Religious remonstrated with him, representiug the inter-
est the Foundress had taken in Kingstown schools, and the expense
at which she had sustained them, he angrily retorted :

* Aaerwnrdt Arohbisliop of Uallfiuc, N. S.

280

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

§-

u •

fj
?

P;:

i-'j

woman make of hm

" What better use could the rich old
money I"

This was true enough ; bat the time had come when the rich
woman was ^>oor. She had made herself friends of the mammon
of iniquity, she had lent her money to the Lord. If her face was
not yet wrinkled, her purse was, and iu future she would be obliged
to look for some co-operation. Besides, the Church had never re-
garded the education of the poor as the peculiar duty of '• rich
old women." Pasters, surely, have some little to do with it. At
the very time when the Kingstown pastor accused the Foundress
of hoarding up wealth of fabulous amount, she was obliged, in
order to build an addition to the House of Mercy, to draw money
from the convent funds, a step which only an extraordinary emer-
gency could justify ; nor could she pay the five hundi-ed pounds of
the school debt which remained unpaid, without relinquishing her
orphan or servants' asylum, which, of course, shp would not think

of. The pastor. Rev. Mr. S , threatened to place her in the

bands of the law, — a strange mode, no doubt, of showing his ap-
preciation of the reformation she had wrought in his parish. In
this difficulty she consulted her venerated friend, the Lord Bishop

of Dromore, who advised her, in case Rev. Mr. S refused to

come to any accommodation, to relinquish St. Patrick's, for a
while, at least.

Meantime, the Right Honorable Sidney Herbert, through the
medium of Mrs. Versecoyle, a pious, charitable lady, had given
ground for a convent and schools in the neighboring parish of
Booterstown, and taken upon himself u, large share of the expense
of their erection. A committee of gentlemen, in this wealthy
suburb, used to dispense food and clothing to their poor neighbors,
and this duty the gentlemen were anxious to resign to the Sisters
of Mercy. Eariy in 1838, the convent was opened under the pat-
ronage of St. Anne, mother of the Blessed Vkgin, to wfiom the
Foundress was greatly devoted. Schools, orphanage, and visiter
tiou of the sick, were, and are, the principal charges of the Sisters
at Saint Aoue's, Booterstown.

From the period of the foundations, began the lively correspond-
ence the Foundress kept up, until a few days before her death,

LIFE OF CATHEKINE MCAULLT.

"•i^w--

^ke of Im

en the rich
iie mammon
er face was
i be obliged
ad never re-
ty of '• rich
;'ith it. At
B Foundress
; obliged, in
draw money
iinary emer-
d pound.! of
jaishing her
id not think
i her in the
wing his ap-

parish. In
jord Bishop
refused to

ick's, for a

through the

[, had given

|g parish of

the expense

lis wealthy

neighbors,

the Sisters

ler the pat-

wbom the

and visits-

the Sisters

I correspond-
her death,

withjier absent children. A few words on the general character
of ber letters will not be misplaced here.

The reader will occasionally find in them touches of the wit of a
De Sevign6, and the polished style of a Montague. Good sense,
solid piety, joyful resignation, intense love and compassion for the
poor, with holy ard tender friendship for those united to her by
ties of blood or spiritual kindred, are their prevailing character-
istics. Dashed oflF; as they were, in moments snatched from the
most important occupations, — some written in the silence of the
night, some at the couch of a dying Sister, some in the solitude of
retreat, some during the mirthful hour of recreation, — they may be
regarded as a compendium of her history for the last few years of
her life, the more authentic because from her own pen. Intended,
in general, for no eyes save those of the beloved friends to whom
they are addressed, they are often strictly confidential, and the
calm, dignified Foundress seems almost lost in the weak woman,
oppressed and all but crushed beneath her heavy crosses. One
trait, which is very remarkable, is the unselfishness which reigns
throughout them. The least troubles of her children have her
warm, ready sympathy, condolence, and assistance, even when her
own heart seems nearly broken. She first grieves with them, then
directs their view to the holy motives of consolation faith proposes.
If she reproves, her correction is quite covered with sweetness and
compassion. Her pills are not merely sugar-coated : they are so
mixed with comfits that their medicinal qualities have to be sought
in their effects. Look at the following, for instance — perhaps yoa
will read it more than once before you can realize that it is an
antidote for very perceptible self-complacency :

" Sister Mary has delighted me, describing the instructions

you give. Show them forth in your aclioni*, us much as you can,
my ever dear child ; and your Institute will outdo us all, please
God."

She sympathizes in the joys of her children, as in their sorrows ;
but she teaches thorn to regard all their successes as pure gifts of
God's goodness, wn::h ought to excite in the recipients "lively
gratitude and profou;id humility."

"I cannot tell you, n>y dearest bister, how much it rejoices mo

.iJII^@£E.'3:%£

TiSsw^sMi^:

282

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

{

to hear of your spiritual and temporal prosperity. May God grant
you itlvely gratitude and profound humility. Then, indeed, you
will be a child of benediction."

The woman of business and the woman of piety are seldom sepa-
rated in these letters. Some passages, especially in her letters of
condolence, are, perhaps, unsurpassed, for pathos and beauty, by
any thing of their kind in English. Others are so irresistibly
humorous, that they cannot fail to wreathe into smiles the most
serious countenance.

In 1838, legal proceedings were commenced against Catherine
McAuley for the recovery of the debt contracted in erecting the
Kingstown schools. Wisely considering that discretion is the bet-
ter part of valor, she kept prudently aloof when the sheriff was iu
the vicinity. The talismanic bit of paper, inviting her to accept
the hospitality of the debtors' prison, was indeed handed in ; but
the prisoner elect remained quietly in her hiding-place. " I am
now," she writes, " hiding from a person who says he wants to
serve a paper personally on me. I am really afraid to stay five
minutes in the parlor. Every man that appears near the premises
is kept at an awful distance, and subjected to a close scrutiny by
my dear Sister Teresa,* lest he should be the dreaded process-man.
This state of things, as you may suppose, has caused more laugh-
ing than crying here."

While the Foundress was establishing a convent in Limerick, in
autumn, 1838, St. Patrick's was closed. Ou learning that matters
had come to a crisis, she sent the following beautiful letter to the
Religious who had been presiding there. Sister Mary Teresa
White :t

" How can I ever sufficiently thank you, my beloved child, for
the kind, cautious manner in which you communicate this painful
news ? Above all, I bless and praise God for your recollection of
the Ever Adorable Sacrament. To avert this affliction, we have
done all that justice and prudence demand. If it must come, how-
ever, let us receive it as the holy will of God for us. It will
mortify us, to be sure ; but that will be salutary, please God. Be

* The portresB.

t Now SuperiorMS of the Convent of Meroy, CUfden.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

Qod grant
indeed, you

leldom sepor
er letters of
. beauty, by
I irresistibly
ies the most

3t Catherine
erecting the
m is the bet-
heriff was iu
er to accept
ided in; but
ice. "I am
he wants to
. to stay five
the premises
'I scrutiny by
process-man.
more laugh-
Limerick, in
that matters
letter to the
[ary Teresa

[cd child, for
|e this painful
ecoUection of
jlion, we have
[t come, how-
US. It will
so God. Be

eroy, CUfden.

a good soldier in the hour of trial. Do not be aflBicted for your
poor — their Heavenly Father will provide for them ; and during
your whole life you will have the same opportunity of fulfilling
your obligations, I charge yon, my very dear child, not to be
sorrowful, but rather to rejoice, if we are to suflfer this most humili-
ating trial. God will not be angry, be assured of that ; and is not
that enough ? I feel it would be giving you no consolation were
I to say, ' God will not be displeased with you, though He may
with me.' He will not be displeased with me either, for He knows
that I would rather be cold and hungry than that His poor iu
Kingstown, or elsewhere, should be deprived of any consolations in
my power to afford them. But, in the present case, we have done
all that circumstances justified, and even more."

The Kingstown people were so dissatisfied with the withdrawal

of the Sisters, that Rev. Mr. S was obliged to invite their

return. That this reverend gentleman was not a person with whom
it was easy to come to terms, the following passage iu a letter of
Mother McAuley's will show. The letter is dated February, 1839.

" A new a-^count from Kingstown. Kev. Mr. S told Rev.

Mr. Kavanagh, that if the school-house were assigned for the chil-
dren to trustees, the debt should be paid, and a choir made in the
parish chnrch for the Sisters, if they would return. To this. Father

Kavanagh agreed. Rev. Mr. S then wrote to me, requesting

that two Sisters would go out, and select such portion of the
church as was deemed necessary. Sisters M. Teresa and Aloysia
went on the day appointed. After taking all their plan, ho re-
called what he had agreed on, and said, in presence of Rev. Mr.
Walsh, that, as he had never invited the Sisters to Kingstown, he
could not be expected to do what was done for them in other
places. I cannot describe Mr. Kavanagh's surprise. He wrote to

Mr. S , expressing his astonishment, and showed me a copy of

the letter, which was very strong indeed. I think it would seem
like defiance to go there now, after the parish priest telling the
Sisters, in presence of his curates, that he never invited them !
Sister M. Teresa could not avoid hinting that none of them were
very anxious to come. It is a most perplexing business."

It may seem surprising that Another McAuley could be legally

284

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

responsible for a debt contracted in erecting parc^Jial schools.
She became so because of her charity. A clamorous creditor came
to her w'th the common story of poverty and a large family, and
she instantly paid him fifty pounds, his share of the amount due.
By paying part of the debt, she had acknowledged herself a debtor,
or, as Mr. S termed it, " committed herself."

Finally, Sussex-place House was sold, and the school debt paid.

Mr. S applied for the Sisters again, but Mother McAuley was

not at all anxious to expose them to fredh trials, and steadily re-
fused to permit them to go until certain conditions were complied
with. " I am afraid," she writes, " that the Kingstown business is
going to be settled ; . but the Sisters shall never go there, unless a
separate choir is made for them in the parish church."

This condition complied with, they returned to Sussex-place,
which had again to be relinquished for a little while. Their third
attempt was more successful. Their convent is now in Glasthnle,
at the opposite side of the town. An extensive Magdalen asylum
has been added to their other charitable works, as the Order ot"
the Good Shepherd has not been introduced here.

The Kingstown affairs were not the only trials of the Foundress,
in 1838. In 1831, the Vicar-General prohibited the chaplain from
saying more than one Mass on Sundays, at St. Mary's, and in 1838
he withdrew him, and refused to replace him on the former terms.
Add to this, that the funds of the House of Mercy became so ex-
hausted, that she would be obliged either to send its inmates to the
poor-house, or encroach on the convent funds for their support.
With the concurrence of the Archbishop, she adopted the latter
alternative.

Many afflictions, some sweet and some bitter, fa'l to the lot of
every human being. The happy deaths of our friends are sweet sor-
rows ; we ourselves love them too well to wish them back to this
miserable world. The wounds our enemies inflict are easily borne,
because they do not wound the heart. But when our friends, those
from whom we have a right to expect assistance, encouragement,
and protection ; those whom we have carved, obliged, and loved ;
those whose position in our regard seems to give as special cluiois

,- Xs. v--' , ^f'-Tr^'-"ai B l aifci

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

ial scboolfl.
editor came
family, aud
imount due.
If a debtor,

I debt paid.
[cAuley was
steadily re-
re complied
a business is
ere, unless a

Sussex-place,
Their third
in Glasthnle,
laleu asylum
the Order of

e Foundress,
laplain from
and in 1838
brmer terms,
ecame so ex-
mates to the
leir support,
d the latter

to the lot of
re sweet sor-
)ack to this
I easily borne.
Friends, those
louragcment,

and loved ;

)ecial oluims

on their charity and forbearance ; when these prove false, when
these expose us to censure, when these look coldly on us, when
they not only desert, but ignore us, when they even persecute us, —
oh I this is bitter, bitter sorrow. When v/e " ask a fish, and they
give us a serpent ;' when wc " ask an egg, aud they reach us u
scorpion ;" when we lean on them, and find they will not sustain
us ; when we confide in them, and they spurn us ; when they see
' our griefs, and mock us, — oh ! this is a cross under which Saints
may groan audibly, and be blameless. The insults of enemies and
indifferent people we Jaugh at ; the aflSictions which come directly
from the hand of God, as sickness or the death of friends, are
beautiful, pensive things in the retrosp ot ; but the injuries re-
ceived from those we loved and revered, which of us would not
gladly blot out of our too retentive memories ? Verily, it is only
Jesus who willingly retains "the wounds wherewith He was
wounded in the house of His friends !"

Mother McAuley's trials with reference to Kingstown and the
chaplaincy, came from persons whom she highly revered, whom shehad
made immense efforts to serve, and from whom she ought naturally
to expect encouragement and protection. We have seen how she
was treated in the Kingstown affair ; but the chaplaincy business
tried her still more sorely. Some spiritual writer makes a remark
to the effect, that when we would fashion ourselves into saints, our
strokes are like those of an apprentice, they often miss their aim,
and are seldom very effective ; but the strokes that God sends us
are from the chisel of a Master. Tie knows when, and where, and
ho»ir to wound us ; His blows are all perfectly well directed, and
did we receive them with the same submission with which the un-
conscious marble receives the strokes of a great sculptor, we should
be, among ordinary mortals, what the productions of a Michael
Angelo are among those of ordinary artists. Seldom has there ap-
peared on earth such a combination of sensitiveness and affection
as was Catherine McAuIcy. As to the first quality, God always
kept it in exercise by the sufferings Hij permitted His creatures,
good and bad, to inflict on her, and this constant exercise, far from
blunting it, made it more acute. As to the second, one by one Ho

286

LIFE OF CATHERINK MCAULET.

snatched from her all she loved, so that she wrote : " The tomb
seems never to be closed in my regard." And again : " My earthly
joys are all cut down, thank God." It was not so much the daily
discipline or the nightly vigil, the continual fast or the unceasing
labor, that made a saint of Catherine, as the sweet and loving sub-
mission with which she ever reposed under the chastening hand of
her Father in Hea^ en. j

" The tomb
My earthly
:h the daily
e unceasing
1 loving sub-
ling hand of

?riv,^i >;-f

CHAPTER XXVIII.

The TuUamore Foundation. — Sermon of Very Kev. Dr. Curtis, S. J.— Mother
Mary Anno Doyle. — Fnther Mathow. — Generosity of the Foundress. — Tul-
lamore will neither lend noi give. — '• A bitter scolding for Tullamoro, and
three cheers for Carlow."

FOR a branch of the Institute outside the Archdiocese, Dr.
Cantwell, Lord Bishop of Meath, was the first successful ap-
plicant. Miss Pentony, a wealthy, charitable lady, bequeathed her
house aid an annuity to establish Sisters of Mercy in Tullamore,
her native town ; and as she was a particular friend of Father
O'Hanlon's, he added his solicitation to that of the zealous prelate
to induce Mother McAulcy to undertake this foundation. The
necessary arrangements concluded, Very Rev. Dr. O'Rafferty,
Vicar-General of Meath, arrived in Dublin to conduct the ap-
pointed Sisters to their new home. They were received with the
greatest delight by the peopb, who met them in crowds far outside
the town, and joyfully conducted them to the chiirch, where all united
to invoke God's blessing on this grain of mustard-seed, and pray
that it might take root and fructify. Mother McAulcy remained
a month, during which she was joined by two postulants. The
first house the Sisters occupied was close and small. One of the
Sisters, whose ideas of spaciousness in convents nearly coincided
with those of, St. Peter Alcantara,* was well pleased with the strait-
ncss of the cells and parlors. The Foundress notices this m a
pleasant letter to St. Mary's, thus :

" Sister Mary has met with her beau ideal of a conventual

building at lost, for our rooms are so small that two cats could

* St. Peter Alcantara's cell was only four feet and a half long ; he coald
neither extend himself nor stand upright in it.

MliMirti<Bi'""TiMii

288

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

scarcely dance in them. The rest of us, however, would flave no
objection to larger ones."

The corridors had steps here and there, so that if one walked
along too recollededhj, there was no slight danger of a serious
accident. Mother McAuley, whose sight was beginning to grow
dim, got many a start in these unlucky halls. By cautiously look-
ing out for danger, however, serious falls were avoided, and the
Sisters perambulated the corridors as often as necessary, at the
expense of a few slight bruises and contusions.

Under God, the prosperity of Tullamore Convent was chiefly
due to the indefatigable exertions of Father O'Rafiferty, whose
interest in it never flagged, and whose death, some years later, de-
prived it of its best earthly friend.

Sister Mary Anne Doyle, late Assistant at St. Mary's, was ap-
pointed Superior of Tullamore Convent, which was dedicated to
St. Joseph. The following letter of hers may prove as interesting
to the reader as it did to Mother McAuley : --^

" My dear Reverend Mother :

" Knowing how anxious you will be to hear that our ceremony
went on happily, I am anxious to give you an early account, lest
the papers should get the start of me. At two o'clock, the pro-
cession entered the church. The crowd was truly awful, yet won-
derful order and quiet prevailed. We had nothing to regret but
your absence, which I felt the more, as I know how delighted you
would be to hear the objects of our Order so beautifully described
in a sublime sermon preached by Yery Rev. Dr. Curtis, S. J., Rec-
tor of TuUabeg College. I wish I could give you some idea of it.
His text was : ' This is true rdigion : to visit the widow and
the fatherless in their affliction, and to keep one's self unspot-
ted from the world .' Reviewing nearly every Order in the Church,
he introduced the Trappists, who were driven out of France, and
to whom some Protestant gentlemen had given tracts of land so
barren, that neither the avarice of the rich nor the misery of the
poor could induce them to break the soil. He described the fertile
appearance now presented where for ages no sound had been heard
but the whistling of the wind, or the scream of the bird of prey.
In that once desolate spot, a hundred voices now sing the praisea

J
t

'li'lll'iii I ilriii

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

3Klv

Id nave no

one walked
)f a serious
ng to grow
tiously look- .
led, and the
isary, at the

was chiefly
ferty, whose
irs later, de-

iry's, was ap-
dedicated to
18 interesting

)ar ceremony
account, lest
lock, the pro-
fal, yet won-
Ito regret but
[elighted you
illy described
I, S. J., Rec-
le idea of it.
widow and
self unspotr
\n the Church,
France, and
of land so
[misery of the
led the fertile
,d been heard
bird of prey.
ig the praised

of God.* He described the Order of Mercy for the Redemption
of Captives, telling how its members bound themselves by vow,
should gold fail, to lay their consecrated hands on the chains of the
captives, and become slaves in their stead. He pictured the Alps
covered with unthawing snow, where the wild beast could not
dwell, and the Brother of St. Bernard, accompanied by his faithful
dog, seeking the perishing traveller. In the most appropriate lan-
guage he introduced whatever is most attractive in each Institute,
endinrr with the Order of Mercy for the redemption, not of captive
bodies, but of captive souls, leaving nothing unsaid that was calcu-
lated to fix a preference in the hearts and judgments of all present
for the Order of Mercy as established in our own country.

" He complimented the Bishop and Dr. O'Rafferty in the
strongest terms, though he said he was restrained by their pres-
ence. He could not, he said, avoid picturing to himself a future
day, when some parent would point out to his child the edifice
about to be erected, and say : ' At such a period a prelate ruled
this diocese whose virtue added lustre to his mitre, who restored
religious worship in this part of Ireland to a state of splendor to
which for ages it had been a stranger ; and a subordinate pastor
ruled this town who delighted in acts of benevolence. It was such
a bishop, it was such a pastor, that introduced the Sisters of
Mercy residing in that convent.' He exhorted the immense multi-
tude never to prove ungrateful for such a blessing. He spoke of
Abraham supplicating God not to destroy the sinful city if tea
just souls were found therein. He mentioned the chokra, which
had lately desolated their town, sayi^ ^ that if God in His justice
should again visit His people for theii r'us, the new convent would
be like a tower before Him to remind Him of His Mercy, which
its title proclaims, and upon which He would look with more com-
placency than on the rainbow which He himself had formed.

" Dear Rev. Mother, I hope you will recommend the whole So-
ciety, and particularly Dr. Curtis, to the prayers of the community.
He deserves to be enrolled among the warmest friends and- most
zealous advocates of our Order.

Tlie Very Kev. preacher alluded to the Cistercian Abbey, Melleray, Ireland.

««■«

^ la tt n A nom S^

290

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

" The new convent is getting up rapidly. Dr. 0'Raffti*ty is
constantly on the spot, even at six in the morning.
" Ever, with deep aflfection,

" And love to all at St. Mary's,

" Your devoted child in Christ,

" Sister M. Anne Dotli:."

Mother McAuley read this letter for the Sisters at St. Mary's,
and then sent it, thus indorsed, to Carlow :

" Read this to yourself, to become acquainted with the pauses,
etc. Then read it to Dr. Fitzgerald. I know he will like it. It
is very well done by our dear, quiet, little Sister Doyle, who would
neither write nor speak until she was obliged to do so."

The Foundress was greatly pleased when the Sisters were careful
to write and compose well. She waa quite severe with such as
were inclined to bo careless in this respect, and would never permit
a letter badly written or composed to leave the convent. She
thought it would be ridiculous for them to profess to teach writing
and composition, if they could not, when occasion required, send
out some specin<cn8 fit to be seen. Besides, she added, that in
this respect, as in every other, the faults of one would be imputed
to all ; and she judged that no one was fit to be in the convent
who had not the honor of the Order at heart.

Writing, in 1840, of the convent and schools of Tullamore, she
says i " They are a grand tribute to Religion, and a very hand-
some sight from the canal-boat ; indeed they are quite an orna-
ment to the town. I am sure God is preparing a distinguished
place in heaven for the generous, benevolent priest who has been
80 instrumental in erecting them. If I said more, it would be too
much. They will last for centuries."

The Superior of Tullamore was almost too prudent and cautious.
Her zeal led her rather to perfect the Sisters intrusted to her, than
to aid in spreading the new Institute. In this respect her convent
presented a striking contrast to its younger sister, Carlow, which
had sent out several foundations before Tullamore would venture
one. Even Birr, in the same county, had to be supplied from St.
Mary's. Mother McAuley was a little vexed at this. Bishops

i.3J^>iiSitfS9k9^0^

¥^7 J

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

291

[lafffcrty is

DOTLI." .

St. Mary's,

the pauses,
like it. It
, who would

were careful
vith such as
never permit
)nvent. She
teach writing
equired, send
Ided, that in
be imputed
the convent

uUamore, she
a very hand-
aitc an orna-
distinguished
10 has been
would be too

and cautious,
to her, than
her convent
larlow, which
ould venture
(lied from St.
lis. Bishops

and priests were consttintly importuning her, and she thought the
younger houses ought to aid her in acceding to their wishes. Hall
serious, half jesting, she writes :

" Birr Convent ought to be founded from Tullamore. It is a
shame to be such creep-mouses in so good a cause. When we
pass through Tullamore, on our way to Birr, I will give a bitter
scolding, and — three cheers/or Carlow !"

It is superfluous to say that the " bitter scolding" was never de-
livered.

Tullamore, however, erred on the safer side. If Mother Mari-
anne could not yet spare her more experienced subjects, she knew
that it would not advance the glory of God to form foundations
of half-trained, half-educated, young and inexperienced members-
If old houses cannot supply bishops and priests desirous to intro-
duce the Order into new places, it is better they should wait. But
they may invite other Religious to convents designed for Sisters of
Mercy. Well, they can promote God's glory as well as we, or
better ; and, in any case, the perfection and reputation of onr
Order ought to be dearer to us than its extension. J\1[other
McAnley would never undertake a foundation unless she could
supply at least three experienced Bisters. One of these she gener-
ally withdrew after a year or two, if the House could spare her.
She was always ready to lend a Sister when asked, no matter how
inconvenient this might be to her ; and she took the same interest,
if not more, in every convent, that she did in Saint Mary's, corres-
ponding continually with her absent children, and frequently under-
going the fatigue of visiting them. Noticing thiti. Bight Rev.
George Browne, Bishop of ^Iphin, said :

" The Order of Mercy must prosper. Its members are willing
to travel hundreds of miles to aid, counsel, and support each other,
and this is their established practice. It cannot fail, while such
affectionate interest is manifested."

When the Foundress established her third House, she wrote :
" We are very near a stop — I should say a full-stop. I must soon
retire from business, and certainly without having made a fortune.
Hands and feet are plentiful enough, but the heads are nearly all
gone."

i » " i WKrr i l iT CTv a w w

292

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

Father O'Hanlon was a great advocate for foandations, and
Buch a friend, hat it was not easy to gainsay any thing that he pro-
posed ; but she knew how to deal with him. " I do not," she
wi'itcs, " tell Father O'Hanlon of the numerous invitations we re-
ceive, lest he should be pressing what cannot be done." Yet he
wab the most active friend the Institute had, after Dr. Blake's ele-
vation. He generally accompanied Mother McAuley on new
foundations ; and every thing, from the appointment of a Superior
to the material best suited for veils, shared bis attention, as may
be gathered from her letters. EVery year, daring her life, he risited
all the convents of the Order.

In a letter dated June, 1838, she writes, in reference to St.
Josephs : "Mr. Molloy, of Tullamore, a wealthy and pious Catho-
lic, has purchased a house near the new convent, for a hospital
The Sisters are to have a passage to it through the garden. Such
is the account Sister Mp ■■ianne gives, to which she adds : ' Not-
withstanding all our stv^ming prosperity, I am gray with care.'
She is what I call doing the humble, and, as ever, greatly afraid
of that cunning thief, vain-glory.^'

Cautious as Mother Marianne was, she once committed an im-
prudence which caused her no slight mortification. In 1888,
Father Mathew commenced the temperance movement in Cork.
His disciples, first counted by tens, soon swelled to thousands, and
his geniality and kindness were such that he soon became the pop-
ular idol. Catholics revered him as a saint, Protestants loved
him as a frier i, Orangemen knelt down before him, and Quakers
called hira " the Apostle." A ceremony was about to take place
at Tullamore, and the Superioress, desirous of giving it unusual
iclat, with the consent of Dr. O'Raffcrty, invited the " Apostle"
to preach at it.

The principal people in King's County being distillers, the bishop
was afraid to excite them just then ; so, as soon as he heard the
affair, he ordered Mother Marianne to write immediately, and
decline Very Rev. Mr. Mathew's proffered services. This was a
most difiBcult act of obedience. The " Apostle" was not in the
least offended, but the poor Superioress was terribly mortified.
She wrote an account of it to Mother McAuley, who, while she

ilL

'.Hiiiliil

■^SH3?S^3S

wmmm.

flftf«ii^5i-,'sK'fi'*a«si*fsy<w«*Kiif»tH!?iis^

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

981

itions, and
hat he pro-
3 not," she
;lons we re-
." Yet he
Blake's ele-
ey on new
a Superior
tion, as may
fe, he rlsited

■ence to St.
pioas Catho-
)r a hospitaL
irden. Such
adds: ' Not-
y with care.*
jreatly afraid

mittcd an im-
In 1888,
lent in Cork,
liousands, and
•arac the pop-
Icstants loved
and Quakers
I to take place
ng it unusual
[he " Apostle"

|er8, the bishop
I he heard the
ncdiatcly, and
This was a

[as not in the

Jibly mortified.

Iwho, while she

consoled her spiritual daughter, showed her that such a proceeding,
without the express consent of her Bishop, was highly reprehend
sible, and added :

" It will be a lesson to all our convents to be extremely cautious
in seeking" extraordinary favors. It was a little too presuming,
and a great penance lias followed. The kind, complying answer
by return of post might have excited some secret motions of self-
complacency, but God in His mercy has sent the remedy."

Several bequests and endowments gave tht r\eligious of TuUa-
more ample means to perform all the works of mercy characteristic
of their Institute. Many rich ladies entered, and the Order pos-
sesses few more flourishing establishments than St. Joseph's.

During the first days of their residence, many curious offerings
were made to the Sisters. One of the curates presented the valu-
able, but not very portable gift of a cow I This created great
amusement. The Sisters having no place to put it, it was sent on
a visit to the country. In the early correspondence with St.
Joseph's, the Foundress affectionately inquires for Madame la
Vache, the first live-stock in the Order.

In relating the particulars of the different foundations, we shall
not give a detailed account of each, as found in the Annals, which
are, or ought to be, kept in every convent. However interesting
such an account might be to Sisters of Mercy, it would prove tire-
some to the general reader, and extend our work beyond the pro-
posed limits.

* Mother Marriane Doyle, first compnnion of the FoundroM, and first Superior-
esi^ of the TuUamore Convent, died while this worlc was in pros, at the Convent
of Mercy, Londonderry, in the fifly-seventh year of her age, and the thirty-sixth
of her Religious profession.

•ufaimm''.

,xm'.

CHAPTER XXIX.

>•■:>.
Mother McAuley ond her absent children.— Rhymes.— Her mode of prepariE^
Si:.tor8 for Superiority.— Uor advice to a young Superior.- The Charlevilie
Foundation.— Very Kev, Mr. Croke.— Sister M. Angela Dunne.— Mother
McAuley refuses to give a colony to her friend, the Bishop of Ossory.— Other
applicants.

IT would not be easy to exaggerate the pain it caused the
Foundress to par!, with her spiritual children ; and, indeed,
this was mutual. "The Sisters," wrote she, in 1840, "say, that
partings from kindred in the world to enter Religion are joyful
soirowa, but that partings in Religion are bitter sorrows. But
what must these separations be to me, who have never yet seen
an unkind Sister ? I shall soon return to our dear old habita-
tion ; but no more shall I see the dearly loved forms of my old
children there, — all strange faces now. We shall, however, all
meet in heaven. Oh 1 what a joy it is to think of that !" She
was anxious that the Sisters should frequently correspond with
each other ; and, notwithstanding her multiplied duties, she always
set them the example, writing not only letters of advice, but even
letters to amuse her absent children. When they wrote to her
in rhyme, she answered in the same manner, so that it became
an established point of conventual etiquette that a poetic epistle
required a poetic reply ; but how the poor Sisters managed who
were not poetd, and did not even possess the gift of rhyme, is a
marvel, unless, indeed, they borrowed the friendly muse of a neigh-
bor, rather than fail in politeness.

Mother McAuley had not anticipated establishing new convents,
but when the will of God required her to do so, no miner considera-
tions deterred her ; and, to her own great inconveiience, she always
gave up the Sistere best suited to advance Ihem. She would not
expose her children indiscriminately to the rough work of new

J of preparirg
he CharlevUle
inne.— Mother
)88ory.— Other

caused the
and, indeed,
), " say, that
in are joy fid
rrows. But
?ver yet seen
Ir old habita-
ns of ray old
lowever, all
that I" She
respond with
js, she always
nee, but even
wrote to her
at it became
joetic epistle
managed who
)f rhyme, is a
aa of a neigh-
new convents,
incr considera-
ice, she always
ihe would not
work of new

iii

W'xfSSXtmi^^imWssxm-S^ff^

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

-"^'^^^^S^'?

295

foundations, and she declined the most ad^ant&geons offt^m when
she did not possess, or could not spare, subjects capable of sua*
taining the credit of the Order. " They are all very good, in-
deed," she writes of the novitiate Sisters of 1841, " but they
would not do for foundations." In selecting a Superior, she was
very slow, taking counsel and offering special prayers. " The Sis-
ters for Birmingham," she writes, " are all that we could wish, but
' I am greatly periilexed about a Superior. Pray that God may
direct us." Before making an appointment, she would place the
Sister designed for it in such offices as were best calculated to give
experience, sending her to preside in Kingstown or Booterstowu,
that her executive ability might be tested ; for the Foundress
well kuew that many a one in the world and in the cloister, with
virtue enough for a private capacity, is found wanting when ele-
vated above others. Mildness was the virtue she most frequently
inculcated in all who had any charge of souls, in any way, how-
ever indirect. In the schools, the Orphanage, the House of
Mercy, she taught them to govern by gentleness and kindness, and
always to seek out and work upon the better feelings of those they
governed. The following advice she once extemporized a*^ *' / re-
quest of a newiy-appointed Superior :

" Let no cresses vex or tease,
Meet them all with peace and ease ;
Mark the faults of every day,
Mark them in a cheerful way.
If yoa terioutly complain,
Let u» f*tl it givet you pain.
Mind but one thing at a time,
You've sixteen hours from morning prirao.
Be mild and meek in all your ways,
And now and then betlow torn* praiie.
Avoid all solemn declaration,
All serious, close investigation.
Say al! you can in playful mood,
And when you're serious, it it good
To be quite brief : and be your prido
To keep sweet patience by your side ;
You'll need it fur a constant guide.
Show fond affection every way,
An^l every hour devoutly pray
Tliiii God would bless the cliarge lie's g.ven.
And make of you their guide to heaven."

mim

296

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

These lines evince a profound knowledge of hiiman nature. TI19
composer was evidently well acquainted with that most unsearch-
able of all things, the human heart. Her poetry might not agree
with all the rules of English prosody, but it agrees admirably with
all the rules of common sense and piety ; and we never read a poet
but herself who could throw so much of these valuable ingredients
into so few words. One might write an essay on every couplet.
Whoever governs as she governed, must become an absolute ruler,
though the subjects of such a one, like those of St. Catherine of
Bologna, could hardly realize that they were governed at all.
What a beautiful sentiment is couched in these lines :

" If you »mo«»iy complain,
Let utfeelil gives you pain."

Who could be angry with a Superior who " complained" in this
fashion ?

" Be mild nnd meek in aii your ways,
And now and then beitow tome praiu."

Poor human nature will ever 'js ready to take correction cheer-
fully, to make renewed efforts to advance, if only " now and then
some praise" be judiciously administered.

" And when you're berlooB, it is good '

To U quite briff."

The writer evidently agreed with the gentle Saint of Geneva,
who said a drop of honey would attract more flies than a barrel
of vinegar. She could never be induced to give vinegar applica-
tions a trial — she had read and heard quite enough about them.
Crossness she would not hear of at all ; moroseness she deemed
odious in a Religious. Even " seriousness," unless " quite brief,"
she regarded as inadmissible. We do not extol the literary merit
of her poems, but we think that parents, teachers, and all who
govern others, and desire to become to theur respective charges
" guides to heaven," could not easily find in so few lines so much
useful counsel.

On New Year's Day, 1839, Mother McAuley addressed the fol-
lowing lines to a young novice. She seems to have a presentiment

.tare. TU9
t unaearch-
t not agree
drably with
read a poet
ingredients
ery couplet,
solute ruler,
:;!atherine of
rned at alL

ined" in this

iction cheer-
ow and then

of Geneva,
han a barrel
ogar applica-
about them.

she deemed
quite brief,"
literary merit
nud all who
ctive charges
ines 60 much

•eased the fol-
presentiraent

LIFE OP CATHEEINB MOAULBT,

297

that her sweet, juTenilc correspondent was destined to an early
crown, and the " year thirty-nine" was, indeed, the last for this
fervent Sister :

" I hope yon don't think I've been very remiss
, In not miswerinf; all your nice rhyme.

I should have replied to you long before this

Could I snatch but a moment of time.
That monarch who bears uh away

In his chariot on measureless wing,
• ■ To whom we can never say ' Nay,'

For ho rules like an absolute king.
Stern foe to our beauty and youth.

Which fiido as he passes along.
Ah I he makes as acknowledge the truth

That life is no more for the young
Than strength for the grave of the strong.

Oh I wliat shall we do to defeat
The tyrant that smiteth us so ?

Let us try by what arts we cau oheat
This tireless and merciless fo^.

Let na now with the ne^^ ytiar begin
To vrest from the despot his power,

Not only avoiding each sin.
But piously spending each hour.
■' ' Our humors and pride we'll subdue,'

And be mild and as meek as we can ;

Our spirit we'll try to renew,
And entirely cast off ' the old man.'

The year thirty-eight is now past ;
Its cares and its pleasures are gone.

The year thirty-nine, if our lost.
Ought to find us, our duties all done.
, , Let us beg for renewed animation

In discharge of our duties each day ;

Let us smile under ov'ry privation '
Religion has placed in oui way.

All coldness and choler we'll smother.
And watchfully shun all dejection ;

Wo'll cordially love one another,
Sine* that it th« mark of tlection."

If these lines are poor in poetic merit, they are rich in good
counsel. The last couplet is a stroke of character. Whatever she
began with, she was always sore to end with fraternJ charity.

When any of the Sisters wrote verses that particularly pleased

13*

-t^/uMsmn

298

LIFE OF CATHEBINB MCAULEY.

her, sbe would transcribe them for the absent ones. In the foUow«
ing lines, which she sent with a transcription of this nature, she
expresses a very poor opinion of her own poetic talent ; and in
this respect she innocently puts her fair correspondent, whom she
playfully callj her " Sister Poet," in the same category with her-
self :

" My dear Sister Poet, we may give up all claim
To t)ie buy and the laurel as emblems of fame ;

The lines I tranttcribe will afford you delight, '-'

Tho' they cast o'er your own a dull shade of the night.
But perchaiioo you may catch a small spark of the Are
Which warmed tho young heart that has hero touched the lyre."

The verses inclosed are more valuable for their piety than thdr

poetry:

LINES ON A PROFESSION.

" With downcast eyes and marble cheeks
The virgin band kneel one by one,
To ask the lowly garb which speaks
The pomp and joys of earth foregone.

" Let nocontemptuoas glance be given,
But reverent list the holy vow
Which plights their purity to heaven,
And breathes their charity below.

" How glorious is the life they plan I
How sacred is their chaste abode I
Ke'ir guitUd, but to lolace man,
Nitr tnUred, hut to loonhip Ood I

" Fearless their stop when sorrow calls.

Though deatli and danger mark the soen« —
No terror from without appals ;
Watchful against each foe within.

" And woman, can she thus retire,

And choose this stern, determined part,
And stifle every fond desire,
Bepress each impulse of tho heart I

• ■ ' •• Gentle, and fond, and sweet, and yoang.
The willing sacrifice is given ;
Triumphant 'mid tho maiden throng.
Behold the destined Bride of Heaven i"

■iMPWiMM*

LlfB OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

299

the follow'
lature, she
it ; and io
whom she
r with her-

eJyre." ,,

J than their

■■■•?

Mother McAalej admired some of these lines reiy mnch. She
often repeated the couplet :

" Ne'er quitted, but to solace man,
Ne'er entered, but to worship God 1"

And were it possible, she wonid hare made these lines the motto
of a device for every convent of her Order.

Mother McAal , freely yielded her best subjects when God's
glory seemed to require them elsewhere ; and He to whom she
made this great sacrifice was not slow in rewarding her generosity.
The vacant places were speedily filled, and no woric of mercy was
interrupted, God thus showing that His work does not depend on
any individual in particular. The Foundress noticed this often to
the Sisters, saying : " In a few years there will be as many in this
room as there are now, though not one of us will be present. The
works will go on as well or better without us. They will be per-
formed, but by other hands. Let us never think any one individ-
ual necessary for carrying on the work of God. No one is so ; we
can all be done without." She would then name Sisters who had
been considered indispensable in their respective ofiBces, — some in
the music choir, some in the school, some in the House of Mercy,
and show how their deaths had caused but a temporary incon-
venience, and how, after a few weeks, their charges went on as well
as ever. This lesson she frequently repeated in some form or other,
that all might be careful to apply diligently to their duties, yet
without neglecting their own perfection. And, indeed, this was a
theme ujwn which she might enlarge, for we daily see that Popes,
Bishops, Kings, Presidents, the highest personages, in fact, as woll
as the lowest, may be removed without causing a vacuum. When
the greatest earthly potentate departs, those who announce that
" the king is dead," add : " Long live the king I"*

Catherihe McAuley is represented in her portrait with the Book
of the Rules in her hand, and an homvglass by her side ; and
more fitting accompaniments could not be selected for her. The
Rules contained the highest perfection to which she wished her
children to aspire ; it was there she desired that they should seek

• •'

L« Boi est tnnrt} vive It Jioi/"

MT^rTTftKff'f*'*^'''^''^™^-"

800

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

God's will. Nothing more nor less than the observance of these
would satisfy her, and this she preferred to the working of miracles.
The hour-glass is emblematic of the flight of time and the approach
of eternity, a subject she wished the Sisters to speak cf to the
poor, the sick, the afflicted, and even to the children.

But it is time that we return to our foundations.

The next was that of Charleville, a small town in the County
Cork, in which an unsuccessful attempt had been previously made
to establish a community of French Sisters. Miss Clancy having
given a bouse and ground, with five hundred pounds, the beginning
of a foundation fund, united with the Bishop of Cloyne and Very
Rev. Mr. Croke, to beg that Mother McAuley would give two or
three Sisters to commence the good work among the poor. Miss
Clancy made some other engagements, with which circumstances
rendered her nnable to comply. For instance, she promised to
give herself, and had sent her harp and piano as suitable preludes
to her entrance ; but her subsequent reception of the seventh
sacrament released her from promises, which we must suppose were
conditional.

Mother McAuley set out for Charleville, in October, 1836, ac-
companied by four Sisters, one of whom was to return after a
while. She visited, en route, her dear children in Tullamore, to
comfort and encourage them, and give the Charleville missioners
an opportunity of seeing their old companions once more. They
travelled by the canal packet-boat, a slow and inconvenient mode ;
but, though they suffered much from cold and fatigue, they seemed
io experience no pain while their cheerful mother shared their pri-
vations. On the vigil of All Saints, they reached their destina-
tion, and found the house which was prepared for them not quite
what they had been led to expect. It was so damp that the walls
a)td furniture were in a state of continual perspiration, and the
very clothing of the Sisters became saturated in a few moments.
This humidity was occasioned by a rivulet which flowed hard by,
and which, however picturesque, rendered the mansion all but un-
inhabitable. All things taken into account, the Foundress deemed
it more prudent to return without making any foundation ; bat the
pastor would not hear of this, and he pleaded the cause of the

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

801

:e of these
r.i miracles,
le approach
: cf to the '

the County
iously made
ancy having
16 beginning
le and Very
give two or
poor. Miss
ircumstances

promised to
able preludes

the seventh
i suppose were

ber, 1836, ao
etum after a
Tullamore, to
ille missioners

more. They
renient mode ;
8, they seemed
ared their pri-

their destina-
them not quite
that the walla
ation, and the

few moment"*,
owed hard by,
ion all but un-
mdress deemed
ation ; but the
cause of the

poor so earnestly that she was obliged to yield. The words of
Father Croke Lad always great weight with her. Although she
once described him as " rather a cold character," she knew that he
always did as much as he promised, if not more.

While on the visitation of the sick, the Foundress one day heard
a poor woman express, in her homely style, her appreciation of the
Sisters, by exclaiming, " O, it was the Almighty God, glory to
Him, that drove you in among us !" These simple words touched
ileverend Mother so deeply, that she resolved that, since "God
had driven them in" among the poor of Charleville, they would
even abide there. But, notwithstanding the zeal and eflForts of all
concerned, this establishment progressed very slowly for some time,
and was severely tried with the cross, in more forms than one.

On the 29th November, she left for Dublin. Obliged *,o travel
by the mail-coach, which started at three in the morning, she de-
clined taking any breakfast, hoping to reach Limerick in tine f^r
Mass. Arrived in sight of the Shannon, she, after much trouble,
succeeded in finding a chapel, in which she heard Mass and re-
ceived Holy Communion ; but she and her companion had great
difficulty in finding theur way back to their inn, as the snow was
falling profusely, and her spirit of poverty would not allow her to
hire a vehicle. After losing their way several times, they at length
reached the hotel, after one o'clock. Having breakfasted, they
set Oct for Dublin, travelled all night, and reached St. Mary's just
in time to assist at Mass, which was celebrated by the Lord Bishop
of Cork, who had come to make arrangements for estabUshing a
Convent of Mercy in his episcopal city.

In a short time, the difficulties in Charleville were such that the
Foundress again entertained the project of withdrawlug the Sisters ;
but Father Croke was more tenacious than ever. '* They shall not
be at any. loss by Miss Clancy's marriage," he wrote ; "if I were
obliged to go to England to beg funds for the erection of a new
convent, it shall be bnilt." When the will to succeed was so
strong, failure was all but impossible ; and, on the Feast of Our
Lady of Mercy, 1838, Mother McAuley had the happiness of
assistmg at the ceremony of laying the first stone of a new con-
vent in Charleville, the site and garden of which were presented to

'303

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCADLEY.

Ill:

i|i^

the Sisters by his Lordship the Earl of Ck>rk. Tliis convent was
dedicated to St. Joseph.

Sister M. Angela Dunn, who was appointed Superior here, was
so very diffident, and so fearful of undertaking the responsibility of
governing others, that only obedience could overconno her reluc-
tance to accept the charge. She departed to our Lord, in No-
vember, 1863, with the reputation of a saint. In the correspond-
ence of the Foundress, we find her charged with two faults : one
wa8 indiscreet fasting, which Mother McAuley would never allow
to the extent of incapacitating any one, even for a day or an hour,
from the active duties upon which she laid so much stress. The
other was, that she once admitted as postulant, one whom, for
peculiar reasons, the Foundress did not wish to be received in
Gharleville. This the latter notices in a letter, thus :

" I have just heard that Miss Fanny D has entered Gharle-
ville with Sister M. Angela. Father Croke informed me. You
may be sure I was not consnlted. I should not have permitted it.
I feel quite ancasy about this ; but I trust in God we are not
going to have any disedification in our Order."

Happily, no unpleasantness resulted from this, as the Foundress
seemed to have anticipated. The young lady persevered at St.
Joseph's, with great edification to all.

Except in this instance. Sister M. Angela was particularly re-
markable for the perfection with which she practised obedience.
Gandor compels us to mention the faults as well as the virtues of
those to whom we allude. Even the saints had their failings, how-
ever impeccable they may be represented. Jesus, by nature, and
Mary, by grace, were sinless : all else must continually say,
" Forgive us our trespasses." If the biographers of saintly per-
sons enlarged on faults as on virtues, the lecture of their beautiful
works would produce more fruit than it does. What is the use of
holding up to people in general, perfection that seems inimitable ?
The author of the Lives of the English Saints has set an admurable
example in this respect. In them, poor sinful nature finds matter
for hope. If saints fell again and again, and still became saints,
surely we may all take courage. But the reader may say, "K
this be yonr opinion, why do you not tell uh something of the

"mm

^ry^j^^^ji^:^^^-

T^:''; ■ ■ >f."''-;r y '^^E^:>->)V^''yy^si

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

jonvent was

)r here, was
lonsibility of

her relac-
iord, in No-

correspond-

1 faults : one
never allow

r or an hoar,
stress. The
3 whom, for
> received in

tered Charle-

id me. You

permitted it.

a we are not

he Foundress
!vered at St.

articularly re-
ed obedience,
the virtues of
failings, how-
ly nature, and
itinually say,
)f saintly per-
their beantiful
t is the use of
as inimitable ?
; an admirable
e finds matter
)ecame saints,
may say, "If

ething of the

faults of Catherine McAuley ?" If three of her confessors — Right
Rev. Bishop Blake, Very Rev. Dean Qaffncy, and Very Rev.
Father O'Hanlon — were unable to observe a fault in h-T, still less
should we. Faults she had, no doubt, for she was hnman ; but,
like spots upon the sun, they were eclipsed, or rather outshone,
bj th«) brightness of her virtues. She herself always saw people
through sucu a beautiful medium that they appeared almost faultless
to her, for she saw them in God. Perhaps it is ia recompense of
her heroic charity, that He did not permit one of her biographers
to be able to charge her with a positive fault. And, if this be our
ungracious task, we must still admit, that her faults leaned to, or
were but excesses of, virtue.

The business of the Cork foundation progressed slowly. The
Bishop had so many conditions to make, and so many provisos
to put in, that, while the negotiations were pending, two other
episcopal applicants appeared, and his Lordship was crowded ont
for the present.

Right Rev. William Kinsella, Lord Bishop of Ossory, a special
friend of the Institute, was anxious to establish a Servants'
Asylum in Kilkenny. So great was his zeal for protecting yonup
persons whose poverty and inexperience made it difficult for them
to resist temptation, that he had frequently sent such persons to
St. Mary's, paying all their expenses, and entreating the Foundress
to make them good Christians and good servants during their stay
in the Institution. He asked her for a few Sisters capable of con-
ducting an Asylum on the Baggot-street plan, and it was not easy
to refuse any request of such a friend and benefactor. But the
house offered was in a very undesirable locality, being built over
an arched gateway, through which the public had right of passage
day and night. Though excellent in other respects, this made it
unsuitable for conventual purposes. The Bishop reasoi-jd with
the Foundress, and promised to build very soon ; but she was in-
flexible, saying, " When you do build, my lord, you shall have
Sisters iAmediately."

This foundation was indefinitely postponed. She was willing to
begin in small, poor houses ; but she would never permit the
Sisters to reside in localities where the surroundings were not re-

.^.vi i if it i [iS.a" .- init )ii itiT- V

804

LIFE OP CATHKKINE MCAULET.

Bpectable. Besides, she desired that a House of Mercy shoold, if
possible, be attached to every convent ; and as she knew that ser-
vants and poor girls would be constantly coming for relief or in-
struction, she would not have them meet with ^emptation when
cominf to the Sisters for protection.

Towards the end of 1836, Dr. Nolan, Lord Bishop of .Kildare
and Leighlin, signified his earnest desire to establish a Convent of
Mercy in Carlow ; but, as this chapter has already exceeded ita
proper limits, we will reserve the particulars of the Carlow foai*.
dation for our next.

•lUl

ircy stoulJ, if
:new that ser-
• relief or in-
iptation wheu

ip of Kildare

a Convent of

exceeded ita

1 Carlow foun-

CHAPTER XXX.

Very Rev. Andrew Fitzgerald, D. D.— The McAuley boys.— The Doctor »nd
tlie Monk. — Yoniig men's sermons. — Kif^ht Eev. Dr. Nolan. — Dr. Doyle's
error. — Mother MoAnley's temptation, and its remedy. — She loses two of her
Sisters.— Sets out for Carlow. — Tlie Sisters' entrde. — Schools for the middle
classea.— The silver breakfast service.- Death of Bishop Nolan. — Letter of
tho Foundress. — Letter from Dr. Fitzgerald.

rPHE clergy of Carlow, with most of whom Mother McAuley
X was acquainted, and to some of whom she owed a debt of gra-
titude for their kindness to her nephews, had frequently asked for
a small colony of her spiritual cliildrcn. Dr. Fitzgerald had been
in Dublin several times to confer with her on this business, but she
was slow in making definite arrangements, till Dr. Nolan, tho
saintly Bishop, urged her to expedite them.

As Dr. Fitzgerald is frequently mentioned in her letters, and au
she held him in particular esteem, it will not bo irrelevant here to
give a brief notice of his connection with her family and Institute.
We have already stated that, early in 1829, James, Robert, and
William McAuley, were placed at St. Patrick's College, Carlow, of
which tho Doctor was President. He was a father, indeed, to
these beautiful orphans. He loved them and caressed them as his
most dear children. They remained several years with him, their
aunt fondly hoping that one of them, at least, might evjnce a prefer-
ence for tho ecclesiastical state : but in this she was disappointed.
They were diligent students, strict observers of college discipline,
and firm Catholics ; but Qod did not call them to that closer union
with Himself which tho ecclesiastical or religious state supposes.
The Doctor continued to show the greatest affection for them — tho
wliite-haired octogenarian became a boy again with these talented,

I M iiiii r i ni i i iii (i i

806

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

interesting youths, who always idolized " Father Andrew," as they
called him. Of course, Mother McAuley could never forget his
kindness to these children so dear to her ; and she never lost an
opportunity of testifying her gratitude. lu a letter she wrote on
her dying bed, this passage occurs :

" I was very sorry to hear that poor Dr. Fitzgerald was suffer-
ing so much. Tell him I pray with all the earnestness I can, for
his comfort."

She had many other motives of gratitude to him, as we shall see ;
but to be perfectly candid, the good old man, in his Ip^t years, was
not b} any means a general favorite. Indeed, he was sometimes
" aggravating enough to vex a saint." A wearying and painful
disease, to which he had become subject, excused his little peculi-
arities in the eyes of his other friends ; but Mother McAuley
seemed not to notice them as such at all. To a correspondent, who
had probably hinted that he was in dotage, she says :

" Believe me, there is as yet no diminution or ueterioration in
the Doctor's rational powers ; they are still as acute as ever, though
they may not always be equally exercised."

The old President's kindness to the Carlow Convent was such
OS to be sometimes almost oppressive. Calling one day, and find-
ing a monk in the parlor, he instantly asked his business. Having
respectfully saluted " Father Andrew," he replied that he desired
to learn the arrangements requisite for the admission of Sisters.
But the President, boing '* hard of hearing," and having acquired,
in old age, a marvellous facility for taking up the wrong end of a
story, at once imagined that the good brother said he had a sister
in the convent, and that he had come to take her away ; and he
commenced a philippic that almost annihilated the poor man. The
Superioress made several vain attempts to undeceive him : he ab-
ruptly bade her mind her own business, and leave to him this
wolf in sheep's clothing. The innocent monk, who was very small
and slight, looked anxiously around for some feasible mode of
egress, fearing lest the stalwart Doctor might, in his zeal for Jus-
tice, use stronger arguments than his very energetic language. As
ho escdped precipitately, the President warned him, under divers
pains nud penalties, never to appear on the premises again, threat-

'a-jionri.' -

.4,-...

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

•m

>w," as they
'r forget bia
ever lost an
she wrote on

d was suffer^
S3 I can, for

we shall see ;
?st years, was
ras sometimes
J and painful
8 little pccuU-
hcr McAuley
spondent, who

eterioration in
18 ever, though

vent waa such
day, and find-
ness. Having
hat he desired
ion of Sisters,
iving acquired,
rrong end of a
le had a sister
|away ; and he
loor man. The
him : he ab-
[ve to him this
was very small
liblo mode of
lis zeal for jua-
language. As
|m, under divers
Is again, threat-

ening him with major excommunication in case he repeated his ef-
forts to undermine any one's vocation. The warning was quite
unnecessary, during the Doctor's life at least, and the threat quite
uncalled for, " which he easily might have learned," said the Monk,
" if he only would hear reason."

Father Andrew, though an excellent preacher, was somewhat
chary of his sermons. Reception and Profession discourses he
considered his forte ; and it was treason not to invite him to
preach these. Sometimes, the Bishop would preach himself, or
appoint another to preach, on which occasions, the Doctor would
eloquently testify his chagrin, by withdrawing before his rival had
quite finished. After a disappointment of this kind, it usually took
a week to restore his equanimity. Not one of the audience ever
ventured to praise the sermon in his presence. The most that
could bn risked, was : " Well, Father Andrew, it was not so bad."
He would then describe what such u style of sermon ought to be,

and afterwards, apologetically, add : " But Father is a young

man, a young man, my dear," Every one, who happened to be
the Doctor's junior by a few years, was a " young mon ;" and he
laid it down as a rule, which had not an exception, that no young
man could preach a good sermon.

With these little peculiarities, more amusing than annoying, he
was most kind-hearted, simple as a child, ti'uly devoted to Qod,
and he delighted to inconvenience himself to serve a friend, or even
an enemy. He was, withal, very discreet and prudent, could give
a decision on a knotty question with legal acumen, and possessed
such varied acquirements, that he could take any chair in the col-
lege. Nothing could exceed his kindness to the Foundress and
her Institute. But wc will now speak of his Bishop.

Right Rev. Dr. Nolan having been raised to the episcopacy, in
1834, had since, according to the advice given him by his Holiness
Gregory XVI., "governed mildly and peaceobly the flock in-
trusted to him by Apostolic authority." In 1 836, a man, who had
kept a delft-shop in Carlow, bequeathed to him three thousand
pounds for the destitute of that town. The interest of this he
settled in perpetuity on the Sisters, for the objects of their Insti-
tute, but none of it was to be applied to their own use for building

fve"MV4"-»'*' **•

[■"■^^"'•■•W'T?*

.AuMMm.

308

LIFE OF OATHEBINB MCAULEY.

or otherwise. " My illustrious predecessor,"* said he to the Foun-
dress, " once committed an error in a similar affair. Receiving ft
large legacy for a certain purj)ose, he allowed himself to be per-
suaded to use part of it for another object, equally ^ood, perhaps
better, but still not specified by the testator, whose friends were
not at all satisfied at this course. I mention this, because you arc
aware that I have been pressed to build a convent with some of
this money ; and I wish yon to understand that I will not do so.
Whatever property is confided to me, will be used exactly in the
manner specified by the legators."

Mother McAuley was delighted to hear these sentiments, which
entirely accorded with her own. She had, as we have seen, the
nicest sense of justice, and she wished to find the same in others.

" Give me," continued the prelate, " a small colony of your fer-
vent children, and I will take the whole responsibility upon myself.
The house we have prepared is not exactly what we I'/oald wish,
but we will soon build. The interest of Michael Novvlan's money
will enable them to commence at once their labors among the poor
and sick. I am not rich, but I promise that my spiritual children
shall never want for necessaries. As a small donation and a proof
of ray affection, I will give them the convent and grounds, and,
while I live, one hundred poundsf a year, which, if they do not
need for ther<!elve8, they can bestow on the poor. This little gift
is to be a secret, though, because if known it might prevent the
benefactions of others."

Here was a prosperous opening. The Carlow foundation busi-
ness was speedily settled.

When the Foundress sent out her first branch, she began to
realize some of the troubles of spreading an Order, not the least

* Kiglit Rov, James Doylo, woll known for hit roligiouB and political writings,
lottors, &o., generally published with tho eignaturo of J. K. L., Jamos, Kil-
duro and Loighlin.

t Mother McAuley, who could never boar to see an avaricious spirit in Re-
ligious, deHired the Sisters not to nsk this annuity unless tliey really wanted it.
They received fifty pounds, tho first instalment of it, on their arrival, and she
would not allow Dr. Ilealy to be informed of Dr. Nolan's promise, on tho death
of tho latter, six niontlis later. Tho Community in Carlow did not, however-
requlro it.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

809

to the Foau-
Receiving ft
f to be per-
;ood, perhaps
friends were
lause you arc
vith some of
11 not do so.
jxactly in the

;imcnts, which
lave seen, the
le in others.
ly of your fer-
y upon myself.
VQ Toald wish,
owlan's money
mong the poor
ritual children
on and a proof

grounds, and,
if they do not

'his little gift
ht prevent the

oundation busi-

she began to
not the least

1 political writings,
Z., Jaraos, KU-

ous gpirit In R«-

ijr really wanted it.

^r arrival, and alie

imiae, on tlio death

did not, however-

of which was the thought that she must, in time, pert with all her
senior subjects. We are bound to mention her faults, and hero
we meet with one which shows that her love of the Sisters was
sometimes too great, too natural, — that it led her to make reserves
with God. In Religion, her temptation was to form those* par-
ticular attachments against which she so strongly cautions the
Sisters in her Rule. She knew this well ; she struggled against it,
and siie achieved the victory, not by stifling the love she bore to
some, but by purifying it and extending it to all. She was so suc-
cessful in this, that we never met any one acquainted with her who
did not conceive herself to be an object of special affection to her.

" Well," thought she, " I shal- have to part with most of my
present flock, but there are two whom I will keep, come what
may."

Here was a reserve with God, but " God sent the remedy.'*
One of the two, Sister Veronica, a Lay Sister, had been her maid
at Coolock, and her confidential messenger to the Archbishop in all
her early troubles; she knew every thing relating to the domestic
condition of St. Mary's, and was invaluable in vbo extern depart-
ment of the House of Mercy, a charge very difficult to administer.
Better than all, she was revered as a saint. She was one of the
orphans whom Mother McAuIey had reared from infancy.

No sooner had this resolution been taken, than Sister Veronica
was missed from her accustomed post. She had grown suddenly
ill. Her Mother sought her, and as she laid a soft hand on the
hot brow, her mild eyes became moist, and she knelt down and of.
fered this precious child in sacrifice to God. It was only a head-
ache to-day ; to-morrow, the throbbing temples, the burning skin,
the galloping pulse, and other unmistakable symptoms, indicated
typhns fever in its worst form. In some constitutions this terrible
disease always terminates fatally. Having received the last sacra-
ments, the patient hourly grew worse, and died on the fourth day,
in excruciating agony.

Mother McAuley had, perhaps, loved the departed one a little
too well, and her good " God had sent the remedy." While she
watched the hectic of fever change into the pallid hues of death,
she made a resolution which she never broke. Henceforth, those

310

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

!'.;:

Ii ■ I

who seemed best suited were sent on missions, no matter how indis-
pensable they seemed to St. Mary's, or how dear they were to her.
Sister Veronica had passed away, and the other of " the two" was
immediately appointed for the Carlow House.

We may remark, in passing, that no Sister ever opposed the
selection Mother McAuley made of her for any new mission,
though not one ever parted from her with tearless eyes. This was
partly owing to the spirit of sacrifice which she developed in them,
and to the feeling which animated all, that she was entirely di-
vested of human respect, and guided solely by the will of God in
every appointment she made. Besides, the very manner in which
she made the proposal caused the Sisters to throw themselves un-
reservedly into her arms, to be disposed of as she thought best.
The spirit which animated them will appear from the answer a
sweet, simple Sister, not yet out of her teens, made when asked
how she would feel if sent on a foundation :

" I should feel lonely, indeed, after you all," said she, " but then
I would not grieve, because I cannot be sent where God is not.
If I should, then indeexl would I have reason to complain."

Sister Veronica was quickly followed by Sister Mary Rose Lub6,
who had for some time been fading away gently as a departing
sunbeam. Weakness, exhaustion, and hectic fever indicated con-
sumption in this case, but none of its more painful symptoms were
present. This sweet Sister, who had learned from her saintly
guide that the spirit of labor is an essential ingredient of holy pov-
erty, begged to be permitted to sew for the poor, but her debility
was so great that the Foundress refused. The invalid insisting
that she was strong enough to help the poor in some manner,
Mother McAuley, to amuse her, gave her some materials for
" Patrick's crosses," and cheered her with the hope of making a
few old women happy by furnishing their baskets for the approach-
ing national festival. Every piece of bright-colored silk or ribbon
she could get was brought directly to her industrious patient, whom
she amused by giving a pleasant account of something that had
occurred during the day. A goodly pile of " crosses" garnished
t'ae infirmary table very soon, and though Sister M. Rose had re-
ceived the last sacraments, she worked away with increasing eu-

LIFE OF CATHEBIKE MCAULET.

ftll

r how indis-
were to her.
tie two" was

opposed the
lew mission,
3. This was
»ped in them,
s entirely di-
ll of God in
mer in which
liemselves na-
thonght best,
the answer a
e when asked

she, " but then
e God is not.
plam."

y Rose Lnb6,
s a departing
indicated con-
lymptoms were
m her saintly
t of holy pov-
[ut her debility
valid insisting
some manner,
materials for
,e of making a
the approach-
silk or ribbon
patient, whom
thing that had
isses" garnished
. Rose had re-
increasing en-

ergy, rejoicing that from her bed of death she coald assist the
poor. At last, on the 11th of March, she sank back gently on her
pillow, and putting the needle carefully in the nnfinished " Patrick's
cross," rested her white, transparent fingei-s, and softly closed her
too-brilliant eyes. The Sisters gathered arornd her, and the last
prayers were hardly ended when their gentle young companion,
after smiling her adieax to those she lored so well, fell asleep on
her fond Mother's bosom. The weeping infirmarian then took off
the thimble of her departed patient, and removed the nnfinished
"cross" from th? bed of death.

There was nothing abont Mother McAuley so contagious as her
love for the poor, and she communicated it to every one that ap-
proached her, especially the Sisters.

Abont a month after the death of Sister Mary Rose, six Sisters,
four of whom were to remain, set out for Carlow, where they ar^
rived towards dusk on the Feast of St. Leo the Great. It was
a bleak, wet evening, " cold, and dark, and dreary," but the in-
clemency of the weather did not prevent bishop, clergy, and laity
from coming far outside the town to meet the Sisters of Merot,
and give them a hearty cead mille afailthe. To please good old
Dr. Fitzgerald, they had no sooner stepped from " Purcell's mail-
coach" than they were conducted to the College, the great hall of
which was brilliantly illuminated. The students, of course, had a
holiday, and welcomed their guests with deafening cheers and clap-
ping. This reception was an unlooked-for ovation ; but, what
with surprise and fatigue, and the unexpected and rather distressing
honors with which they were overwhelmed, the poor Sisters were
half bewildered. A collation was prepared for them in the Presi-
dent's room, during which the Bishop informed them that Bra-
ganza House (his own residence) and St. Patrick's College had
contended for the honor of entertaining them at dinner, while a very
pressing invitation came from the Presentation Nuns, entreating
them to accept the hospitality of the convent ; " and of course,"
added the courtly prelate, " neither I nor the Doctor would main-
tain a point against the ladies, but yon shall decide for your-
selves." Thanking his Lordship and the President, they got off to
the Presentation Convent as speedily as was consistent with po-

312

LIFE or CATHKRINE MCAULEY.

liteness. With the kind nuns they passed a few happy hours.
About nine, the Bishop returned to conduct them to their own
convent. Late as it was, they fitted up a temporary chapel, in
which his Lordship next morning offered the Holy Sacrifice. The
same day he blessed the house, and dedicated it to St. Leo the
Great, to whom he was specially devoted.

The kindness of the Bishop and clergy was unceasing. The
Foundress is never weary of extolling it in her letters. She used
to say that she never knew any one that brought to her mind our
Divine Lord as Dr. Nolan did. His meekness and charity, the
grace and dignity of his demeanor, and the heavenly beauty of his
countenance, inspired in the beholder veneration and esteem ; and
he was so easily approached, that all hf,d free access to him. Ho
was just such a one as she had often begged of God to pilot her
through her difiBculties, to console and direct her ; nor was he un-
willing to undertake this oESce, bui just as he was beginning to in-
terest himself deeply in her and her Institute, God called him
home.

After a few days in Carlow, letters announcing that three of
the Sisters hid caught the fever while serving the sick, recalled
her to Dublin. There was still much business to be transacted for
the new house, but nothing could deter her from hastenmg with
utmost speed to assist her suffering children. Business could wait,
perhaps they would not ; and, at all events, her chief business was
to support and comfort in the hour of trial those who called her
Mother. All three recovered. On returning to Carlow, she was
induced to bring her niece, the *' innocent, playful Catherine," then
in an advanced stage of consumption. Dr. Fitzgerald insisting that
the mild climate of Carlow would have a beneficial effect. Every
attention was lavished on this amiable young Sister, but while
she seemed to improve, her deceitful disease was making pro-
gress.

The Foundress, at the request of Bishop Nolan, and with the con-'
curreuce of the Sisters, opened at St. Leo's a day-school for children
of the middle class, being of opiniou that much good could be done
for the poor by educating these. She was willing to undertake
this duty in places where girls of that grade had no other schools

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

Sift

appy hour*.

their own
ry cbapel, iu
.crifice. The

St. Leo the

ceasing. The
rs. She used
her mind our
d charity, the
beauty of his
esteem ; and

1 to him. He
jd to pilot her
nor was he uur
eginning to in-
lod called him

r that three of
le sick, recalled
e transacted for
hastening with
ness could wait,
ief business was
. who called her
Carlow, she was
Catherine," theu
dd insisting that
i\ effect. Every
Sister, but while
ras making pro-

and with the con-
•hool for children
od could be done
ling to undertake
no other schools

to attend, for she wonid never open any establishment that conld
possibly interfere with the prosperity of a similar one. Sentiments
of compassion for the poor, of considerate kiudni ,.s towards ser-
vants, of charity towards all who need it, may easily be impressed
on the tender minds of children ; and such impressions are never
forgotten. In some places the Sisters apply the proceeds of the
Pension School to the support of an Orphanage or Hoose of
Mercy. The Foundress wished that, when obliged to conduct such
schools, they should remi mber the poor, and keep them chiefly in
view. These day-«chools are now established in connection with
almost every house of the Order of Mercy.

Sister M. Frances Warde was appointed Superior of the Cap-
low Convct, which flourished rapidly. Several rich and talented
po&tulantes* entered, and all the objects of the Order were soon
in successful operation. Michael Nolan's brother, John, gave the
Sisters three thousand pounds to commence a new convent : their
sister was almost equally liberal to the charities of the Institute.

On one of Mother McAWy's visits to Carlow, her kind, eccentric
friend, Dr. Fitzgerald, managed to take oSfence for some imaginary
cause, about which he preserved a dignified silence, though, as the
rvent proved, he was meditating signal vengeance. He had pre-
viously given her r silver breakfast service for the use of the Chap-
lain or any othei guests that might happen to breakfast at the
convent. Now, ns three Bishops were about to accept the Sisters*
hospitality, the Doctor's "own man" arrived and demanded his
master's plate.

" Could you not wait till after breakfast, my dear ?" queried the
Foundress.

" No, madam," returned the servant ; " Father Andrew is in
the garden waiting for it, and he ordered me not to come back
without it.". .

" Very well, my dear," said she, and the service was instantly
restored.

* The fiimilics of ti.e English and Iriah primateg Bupplied most of the eailir
BubjocU of St. Leo'8, — \,h"io of II. £. Cardinal Wiseman's cousins and ai manj'
of H. E. Cardinal CuUen's nieces, with several more distant relatives of both,
being in the Novitiate at the Rarao time. •.''•(^.V

l')MT||f | «if( j i ii i i «t» S l |«>t i '

814

LIFE OF CATHEKINE MCAULET.

1" .

:illliJ

The gnesUi were left to breakfast without fork or spocn, to the
great embarrassment of their hostess, who could not have foreseen
such an emergency. Dr. Nolan, who knew where the silver origin-
ated, soon divined the cause of its sudden disappearance, and
laughed heartily.

" Let us have lead spoons and steel forks," said he, pleasantly.
" We can use them as well as you."

The table was served from the Sisters' refectory, but his Lord-
ship did not forget the Doctor's freak. He ordered a set of silver
spoons and forks from Dublin, with Mercy fancifully engraven on
each, and presented them to the convent, of which, unlike their
predecessors, they became part of the fixed capital. Father An-
drew enjoyed the prank he played very much, but soon became a
little ashamed of It. Mother McAuley never made the remotest
allusion to it.

He often gave orders as though he were Ecclesiastical Superior.
She told the Sisters to comply with bis injunctions when possible,
and when they could not, to listen respectfully and say nothing.
Once he purchased some fine, expensive material, and presented it
to a Sister for a habit. Knowing that she could not wear any
thing BO costly without infringing on her vow of poverty, and fear-
ful of offending the Doctor by returning it, she mentioned the affair
to Mother McAuley, who said :

*' Make it up and wear it a few times before the Doctor ; then
change it into a cassock or something else, but do not tell him yon
did so. If you said it was against your vow to wear it, this might
seem like a correction and pain him, since he is supposed to know
more about the vows than we do."

Thus did she manage to have the rules kept without wounding
the feelings of the most sensitive. If there were ten thousand mles
to be observed, she always remembered that " the greatest of these
is charity."

After her return to St. Mary's, she had the affliction to lose a
fine, promising Sister. This she communicates to Dr. Fitzgerald
in a letter dated oa\j 3, 1837, in which also she acknowledges the
kind invitation he had given her nephews to spend the vacation in
Carlow : . . > ..< , ^^ :

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

315

gpocn, to the
[iave foreseen
silver origin-
learance, and

ie, pleasantly.

but his Lord-
a set of silver
ly engraven on
h, unlike their
. Father An-
30on became a
e the remotest

atical Snperior.

1 when possible,

nd say nothing.

nd presented it
not wear any
verty, and fear-
tioned the affair

Doctor ; then

|not tell him yon

iar it, this might

ipposed to know

[ithout wounding

W thousand rules

greatest of these

Jiction to lose a

[o Dr. Fitzgerald

icknowledges the

the vacation in

•' Mt dear Reverend Father :

" I received your kind letters, which were very consoling to me.
Robert* is delighted, P.nd they all have every hope of getting leave
to go. It has pleased God Almighty to visit us with another af-
fliction ; we have just sent our fine young Sister, M. Aloyaia
Thorpe, to eternity. She died on the tenth day, of violent fever,
being exactly like a person in cholera, cold and purple. Some kind
of circulation was kept up by wine, musk, cordials, and warm appli-
cations ; but no hope of recovery from the third day. My poor
little Catherine is as cheerful as ever, but no symptoms of returning
strength. A new Sister entered yesterday ; this is five in a few
weeks. I believe we are to go to Cork on Wednesday. Dr.
Murphy has waited for us as long as he could.

" Begging you to give my most affectionate love to each dear
Sister,

" I am, with gratitude and respect, yours in Christ,

" Mart C. McAulet.

" Very Rbv. Akdrew Fitzoerald, D. D., 0. P."

The relief afforded to the poor in Carlow was a source of im-
mense consolation to the Foundress. " You are truly happy," she
writes to the Super! .ress, " in all the circumstances of your little
foundation. I know of nothing like it. How thankful yon should
be to God that He has made provision for the poor about yon,
not to be depending on voluntary contributions at bazaars and
sermons I How happy shall I be if God sends me, before I die,
some certain resources for our numerous poor."

In October, 183T, St. Leo's lost one of its best friends. The
saintly Bishop was called to "receive a reward suitable to hia
merit8."f He died in the odor of sanctity, surrounded by his sor-
rowing clergy, and affectionately tended by the Sisters op Merct
He was perfectly conscious to the very act of dying. The last

* Robert, being the most talented of ber nephewa, was tbe Doctor's fiivorite.

t " Use the utmost diligence that peace, whioli is the bond of Cliristianity,
may never be broken among clergy or people ; and for this yon may expect to
receive from Christ Jesus, who is the Prince of pastors and of pence, a reward
Buitable to your msr\t';.."—Autograp.'i Utter of Hi* EoUruit, Ortgory XVI., t»
Right Biv. Dr. Nolan.

viuii'ifjmaM i ' rti i lto i uli "•■■

■MMilp

all

LIFE OF CATHEBINK MCAULET.

words he spoke were to recommend the Sisters to the care of Very
Ber. James Maher, a priest in whom he placed implicit confidence.
The following beaatlful letter of condolence Mother McAnley ad-
dressed to the Sister who had given her the sad news of their loss
of this most valued father and friend :

" Mr EVER DEAR SisTER M. Teresa :

" I was partially prepared to receive the melancholy news con-
veyed in your letter. The dear, saintly Bishop has got an early
crown, and we have now a valued friend in heaven, whose advocacy
will be soon experienced by those who hambly bend to the ador-
able will of God. My dear affectionate Sister, M. Frances, will
soon, I trust, edify you all by her perfect composure and entire
resignation. Submit we must, but we should do more ; we should
praise and bless the Hand that wounds us, and exhibit to all
around us a calm appearance. I trust in God this will be mani-
fested in you all, afflicted as you now are. When I promised to
go to my dear Sister Frances in time of trial, you may be sure, my
dear child, I did not mean the trial which death occasions, with
which I am so familiarized, that the tomb never seems to be closed
in my regard. I alluded to those difficulties to which her new
state exposed her, such as incurring the displeasure of her spiritual
superiors without design, experiencing marks of disapprobation,
and not knowing why. These are some of the bitter sweets inci-
dent to our state, and most of all requiring counsel and support.

" The sorrow in which she now so deeply shares, is extensively
divided and equally the affliction of many. The Presentation
Nuns, who were so long his spuitual children, had not, I suppose,
the comfort of seeing him ; and his priests and people, what must
they feel ? To regard it as an individual sorrow would not be
right. Our portion of it may well be 'lost in the lamentations of
his poor orphaned people. Yet I can account for my poor Sister's
feeling so much on thid distressing occasion. The good Bishop
afforded her the chief comfort she felt on parting with me ; still, I
know she will not continue unmindful of the exalted obligations of
our holy state, and I will confide in the generous bounty and never-
failing kindness of our all-mercifuI Saviour (to which, hcwet er, we

Liri OF CATHBRmi: icoaulst.

817

care of Very

it confidence.

McAuley ad-

of their loss

oly news con-
got an early
hose advocacy
to the ador-
. Frances, will
are and entire
,re ; we should
exhibit to all
8 will be mani-
1 1 promised to
nay be sure, my
occasions, with
:ms to be closed
which her new
of her spiritual
disapprobation,
ter sweets incl-
l and support.
!S, is extensively
le Presentation
not, I suppose,
ople, what must
Iw would not be
lamentations of
my poor Sister's
le good Bishop
. ith me ; still, 1
;ed obligations of
lounty and never-
lich, however, we

must pnt no impediment), that He will pour down on yon all, my
dear Sisters, His sweet, abundant consolations, and that I shall
find you in a few days perfectly tranquil and reasonably cheerful.

" With most fervent prayers and fond affection for my tender,
ardent Sister, M. Frances, and for you all,

" I remain, most sincerely, your attached mother in Christ,

" Mart Catherine McAulet.
"St, Maij'b, Cork, FeMt of St. Teresa, 1887."

" Never command any thing which you have not first practised
yourself," said an ancient Father ; but Reverend Mother never
ventured to command others a tenth part of what she herself ha-
bitually practised. When the heaviest crosses were laid on her
shoulders, she joyously sang out, "Hceo dies qttem fecit /" when
ordinary troubles befell her children, she only asked them to be
" reasonably cheerful," and even for this she gave them '* a few days."

In a subsequent letter of condolence, she says :

" You have given all to God without any reserve. Nothing can
happen to you which He docs not appoint : you desire nothing but
the accomplishment of His will. Every thing, however trivial,
comes from that adorable sonrce. Yon must be cheerful, animat-
ing all around you. You may be sure we all fervently pray for
you ; that is the !;8flt thing we ca'j do. If yon had seen the gen-
eral feeling which prev&i'nd <it recreation last night, yon might
have almost thonght that tee were strangers to such sorrows."

A letter of a pleasanter nature was addressed by Reverend
Mother to Carlow, on the 28th of December, 1837. It was Holy
Innocents' Day, and she seems to have imbibed no small share
of the general hilarity. The chaplaincy trouble was then at its
height, and Father Daniel Nolan, brother to the late Bishop, had
been kindly performing the office of chaplain to St. Mary's for a
few days.

" It is CO wonder I should like my adopted son * for he is a real
rogue according to my own taste. The franksf we sent for came

* From a fancied momblaDce to lier deceased niece, she ilv^jn called Father
Nolan her adopted sou. He was Chaplain to 8t. Leo's, Carlo«r,
i Vranks. This was l>efore the estAblishment of the penny postaj^e.

■■iWnilMjMi

818

LIFE OF CATHEKINE MCAULET.

while he was here. I said I had nothing to say in yours, and he
proponed that I should write, hiating, or in part saying, that he
was likely to remain chaplain, and that I should endeavor gradu-
ally to reconcile you to this. Though all was ready — artfully
done so as not to tell an untruth — I found I could not send it,
lest it might give you a passing motion of uneasiness. Play your
part well, however. My son will appear quite embarrassed. Be
surprised that I could think of taking any more comfort from you,
&c., &c., &c., and when you have him well cheated, discover the
plot. I was heartily delighted to see him. He is like my Mary
Teresa, and certainly as innocent."

This playful scrap is not without its value, as giving a glimpse
of the beautiful character of one who could enter into a joke as
well as the youngest of her children, but who was perfectly pow-
erless to carry it out, if she thought it calculated to cause " a
passing motion of uneasiness,'" to any one.

Right Rev. Francis Haly, who succeeded Dr, Nolan, was very
friendly to the Sisterhood, and is often mentioned by the Foundress
in grateful terms. To the Superioress she writes : " The charac-
ter of your Bishop is most amiable. He is ever kind to us. God
has given you a good father in him."

Dr. Fitzgerald was the first who observed the failing health of
Mother McAuley. In the following letter, after reminding her of
the great things God had wrought by her humble instrumentality,
he tells her that she carries the treasures of heaven in a fragile
vessel, requiring frequent repairs : and then facetioasly invites her
to make the said repairs in Carlow. Towards the close, the stern
preacher is lost in the tender father and affectionate friend. Few
men of his age could indite a better epistle : '

':) li

" Cahlow Coluqe, Aug. 4, 1840
" Mv DVAR FrIENO i

" I do not think my holy patron, St. Dominic, ever received more
sincere devotional feelings from me, his unworthy son, than I offered
him this Jay. You are not aware that you contributed to excite
this warmth of devotion ; yet so it is. The dear Sisters of Mercy
attended my Mass, and partook with mo of the Bread of Tjife.

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULBT.

819

yours, and he
vying, that he
deavor grada-
eady— artfully
[1 not send it,
3. Play your
)arrassed. Be
ifort from you,
d discover the
like my Mary

ving a glimpse

into a joke as

, perfectly pow-

jd to cause " a

l!f olan, wa* very
y the Foundress
: " The charac-
ind to us. God

failing health of
cminding her of
instrumentality,
vcn in a fragile
acisly invites her
close, the stem
ate friend. Few

BOB, Aug. 4, 1340

rer received more
on, than I offered
ributed to excite
Sisters of Mercy
e Bread of liife.

Could my heart be cold in such company ? And was it not you
who, assisted by the Holy Spirit, formed that company, and gave
them to us to dispense and obtain Mercy ? Truly, I may say that
God took you out of darkness to spread His light ; and you are
spreading if under His vocation in humility of heart, knowing that of
yourself you are nothing, but all things in Him that strengthens you.
It is delightful to reflect on the success of your late mission. Eng-
land, as in former times, sends her virgins* amongst us to see how
Ireland has learned from long-suflFering to be compassionate to-
wards human misery, and God has made you au agent for these
purposes. See ' the big house,'f the object of which could not be
divined by the wise ones of this world, and which even you could
not distinctly foresee I Now, what a teeming Mother you are ! —
your children, reared imder one roof, proclaiming in distant quar-
ters the mercies of God to His people I How humbled you should
be to think that, with all the infirmities that accompany you, you
have been selected to diflFuso His bounty to His suffering children I
Now, my dear friend, glory in these infirmitios, that the power of
Christ may be perfected in you.

" But you must sometimes think that you carry the treasures of
God in a fragile veesel, liable to break and chink, and requiring
frequent repairs, to effect which you cannot have leisure amid the
various intrusions of those immediately about you. Break from
them, and come down to the calm, quiet residence of your children
here. A few days with ns will renovate mind and body, and send
you home fresh for new toils. Renjember, God has given you
charge of the health yon employ in His service. Come to us, and
we shall send yo u back laden with that blessing. Mind, I hate
that cough which annoys you, and here we have a certain ct'.o for
it. Now, my dearest old friend, in unison with all here, I " -rnestly
beg of you to have compassion on yourself and on the many intfT-
ested in you, and come down here as soon as possible.

" Though almost blmd, I cannot give up scribbling to you as

• He nlludes to tho English ladies who oiimo to Ireland in 188R, to oirve ■
Novitiftto for the piirposo of introducing tho Order of Mercy into England,
t " The Big Uouse" wub the nioknams of lioggot-Btreot House in lttS6.

MU gil UU i

LIFE OF OATHEBINE HOAULET.

long as the sheet pennits. I will conclude bj earnestly repeating
yoor obligation of coming down to oar good air.

" With all the affection of my old heart, I am, dearest friend,
" Yonr ever-devoted brother in Christ,

"AkDBKW FrrZOEBALD."

:!-;|!

lull I

Mother McAulcy gratefolly acknowledged this affectionate in-
vitation, but did not comply with it. Only to visit the sick and
establish new convents, did she ever leave St. Mary's. When she
observed others in ftuling health she procured them change of air
but her own spurit of poverty would not permit her to make use
of this remedy ; and when urged to do so oa plea of the loss her
death might occasion, s' <$ said sweetly: "The Order is God's
work, not mine. It will do just as \^11 without me." The motto
already quoted, she fully observed :

IIow Baored is Aeir obasto abode I

Ne'er quitted but to tolac* man,
Ne'er entered but to vorthip Ood,^'

The nons of George's Hill were pressing her for eight years to
pay them a visit before she complied, and even when she went, it
was bat as a secondary person, a companion to " Oeraldine," who
had just been professed, and whom the nuns were most anxious
to see.

Several letters to Dr. Fitzgerald are found in Mother McAuley's
correspondence, in one of which she says, after mentioning some of
the pecuniary affairs of St. Mary's

" You see I must tell you all, - <; i know you are so greatly
interested. I can never forget, my a- a.' air, all the animating hope
yoa created in my micd when we were risiu; j out of nothing."

In a letter to St. Leo's she expresses a regret that the Doctor,
who was then engaged with a dentist in Dublin, had not been in-
vited to some ceremony. " He could not have come," she writes,
"and this you might have pardoned; but your not asking him
Boems remarkable. I am very sorry for this. If you could only
Boe how dejectedly he told as yoa had sent him no invitation,
you would feel as I do." « ,

'■Uffl

.; JbSWa

other McAuley'8
intioning some of

)u are so greatly

lo animating hope

)f nothing."
that the Doctor,
had not been in*

)me," she writes,
not asking him
f yoa could only

im no invitation,

LITE OF OATHKBINE MOAULET.

821

istly repeating

irest friend,

it,

FrrzGEBAiJ).'*

iffectionate in-
it the sick and
^'8. When she
change of air^
;r to make use
of the loss her
Order is God's
e." The motto

r eight years to
len she went, it
9eraldine;' who
re most anxioos

Sach passages as these may seem animportant, bat they gire a
deep insight into the heart of the writer ; proving how grieved she
was when her Sisters, however involuntarily, gave the slightest
cause of displeasure to any persons, especially to such as had been
friendly to the Institute.

Dr. Fitzgerald survived his "dearest old friend" but a few
months, dying in 1842.

*14

MIM^I

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Cork Foundntion.— MisB Barbara Goold.— " Saint Marie's of the Isle."—
The Foundress incurs the displeasure of the Bishop. — " Catherine tlie Less."
— An eligible postulantc— The Meeting of the Waters. — Largo, Lento, e
Orave. — Death of Little Catherine. — Her Aunt's letter.— Dr. Murphy. — Severe
retort. — A heavy purse end a fair eaoutoheon. — The English Sisters. — A
compliment.

WHEN the Foundress retnrned from Carlow, June, 1837, she
found Bishop Murphy so pressing for bis promised colony,
that he refused to wait any longer. The increasing illness of her
" innocent, playful Catherine" might occasion some delay, had not
the well-tried aunt stifled those sentiments of grief which would
become a hindrance to the accomplishment of the Divine will.
Taking Sister M. Clara Moore (the only one of her " first seven "
remaining except the Mistress of Novices*), Sister M. Josephine
Warde, and some others, she set out for Cork, which she reached
July 6th, 183T. Long before the little party came within sound
of the famous Bells of Shandon, they were warmly greeted by
numbers of the clergy and laity, who seemed to vie with each
other in testifying their respect and affection. The Bishop's rela-
tives, several of whom were among the merchant princes of " the
beautiful citie," were munificent in their benefactions to the Insti-
tute, proving that if they possessed not royal blood, they certainly
had royal hearts. A spacious and well-adapted house, fully fur-
nished in conventual style, was presented to the Sisters, with a gift
of two thousand pounds, by Miss Barbara Goold, a lady of great
wealth and greater charity, who, during a long and useful life,
lately terminated, never ceased to " make friends to herself of the
mammon of iniquity."

• Sister M. Dl Paul Delanjr.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

8i8

>'8 of the Isle."—
lierine the Less."
-Lnrgo, Lento, o
Murphy.— Severe
iglUh Bisters.— A

rune. 183:, she
iromised colony,
ag illness of her
delay, had not
ef which would
the Divine will,
er "first seven"
ter M. Josephine
lich she reached
ne within sound
vnly greeted by
a vie with each
he Bishop's rela-
; princes of " the
ions to the Insti-
)d, they certainly
house, fully fur-
listers, with a gift
a lady of great
and useful life,
B to herself of the

On the evening of their arrival, several ladies provided a sump-
tnous repast, which, when Mother McAuley had seen, she refused
to touch, saying that such delicious viands were too good for poor
people like Sisters of Mercy. Thus she ever loved to identify her-
self with the poor, and could not bear to be better fed or lodged
than they. Being somewhat hungry, however, she sought some-
thing less expensive, and discovering some old crusts in the pantry,
dined cheerfully on them, leaving the " creature comforts" of a more
delicate description for the sick poor.

Rutland-street House, although otherwise well adapted for con-
ventual purposes, was in a gloomy location off one of the quays,
and its garden was not much larger than a viouchoir. In a few
years it was replaced by the magnificent Gothic convent, now
known as St. Marie's of the Isle, erected chiefly through the ex-
ertions of the present Bishop, Right Rev. Dr. Delany, and the
principal inhabitants. It stands on an islet between two branches
of the River Lee, on the site of an ancient Dominican abbey, whose
name it retains, suppressed after the Ri irmatiou. The chapel,
cloister, and convent are built of a reddisli-brown stone, with
bright limestone quoins, door dressings, mullions, &c. The orphan-
age and House of Mercy, built in the same style, are connected
with the main building by long cloisters. Within the convent are
two memorial chapels,* exquisitely fitted up ; the corridors,
chapter-room, community-room, and refectory are probably un-
equalled in Ireland. This fine pile is one of the most beautiful
ornaments of the ancient Catholic city of Cork, which, indeed, is
far richer in natural than in architectural beauty.

A day-school for the middle classes was opened here by the
Foundress, at the suggestion of the Bishop ; the Ursuline Convent
at Blackrock being two miles from the city, and intended chiefly
for the upper classes. A hospital was added after some time,

• Olio of these memorial chapels, dedicated to the "Angels of the Holy SouU,"
was decorated by tlio Rev. William Cimniiigham, as a monument to his deceased
brother, for whose repose Mass is offered there at statod times. The otlier,
Hattr MUericord'uB, was fitted up by Mrs. Lyons, n ricli benevolent lady, who
atlerwards Joined tlie Sisters. Both, though suiall, are perfect gems iu tlnlr
kind. .

ter^Mi

- ^ i H wfc.

824

LIFE OF OATHEBIKE HCAULET.

I'l ji^'

11 i5 i

illlVi

i ilpi

■I (

t If'

called the Mercy Hospital. In the noble schools erected on " the
Isle," over twelve hundred children receive grataitocs education.
Some hundreds of poor girls earn a comfortable subsistence for
themselves, and occasionally for their families, in the Industrial
Day School, in which department is executed every description of
plain and fancy work, embroidery, knitting, netting, and that
peculiar invention of the ninetpenth century, crochet, which, in
its higher grades, rivals the finest laces, and is extensively used in
royal and imperial ball-rooms. Schools of this description* are
fonnd in connexion with almost every Convent of Mercy in Ireland,
&c.

W)u.<; in Cork, the Foundress had the misfortune to incnr the
displeasure of the Bishop by admitting a young lady whose dower
was not considered well secured. His Lordship had intimated his
views on the qualifications he looked for in candidates, but she did
not understand his intimations in the light of prohibitions, and she
was very sorry for being so unfortunate as to displease him. An-
other and more painful affliction, however, hurried her from Cork,
which she left July 24th, to assist at the death-bed of her " inno-
cent, playful Catherine."

This sweet creature was the delight of her Aunt and Sisters.
Of medium height, with a face in which sweetness and innocence
were mirrored, her bine eyes and fair complexion contrasted with
the beauty of her lovely sister. Her talents, though not very
brilliant, had been cultivated with assiduous care. In-many things
she resembled her illustrious kinswoman ; her cheerfulness never
forsook her for a moment — in fact, she seemed the happiest of
human beings, and it was hardly possible to look into her sunny
countenance without reflecting some of its rays. Her joyousness
arose from simple ignorance of evil ; she had a thousand winning
ways by which old and young were irresistibly drawn towards her.
She was gay without levity, playful without childishness.

" Little Catherine" had the keenest sense of the ridiculous ; her
aunt was always afraid to meet her eye when any thing comical cc-

* Many of these, AS those of KinBale, <&o., would doservo partioulnr notioe
did out space permit us to mention any besides tboae oonnectod willi tho oon-
ventK founded by Mother MeAuiey.

LIPB OF OATHBRUrK MCAULET.

8S5

icted on " the
»C3 education,
ibsistence for
the Industrial
description of
ng, and that
^et, which, in
nsively used in
ficription* are
rcy in Ireland,

le to incur the
y whose dower
d intimated his
es, but she did
)itions, and she
lase him. An-
ler from Cork,
of her '* inno-

ot and Sisters.
and innocence
contrasted with
ough not very
Inmany things
jerfulness never
the happiest of
into her sunny
Her joyousness
lousand winning
m towards her.
iness.

ridiculous ; her
ling comical oj-

ptnioulnr notloo,
ctod wiUi Ute ooa-

cnrred, for fear of upsetting her own gravity. On one occasion a
clergyman* whom she had inadvertently offended, sent to St.
Mary's a postulante totally unsuited, though very pious, to dismiss
whom would be a signal for a fresh storm. When persons of this
class were sent, whom it would be imprudent to send away at
once, her plan was to let them remain awhile, during which the
objects of the Institute were explained to them in such a manner
that they generally offered of their own accord, to retire, and thus,
by her prudence, neither they nor those who sent them took offence.

The lady alluded to entered with little Catherine in 1834, and
was in externals a great contrast to her. Mother McAuIey in-
troduced both at recreation, but the former having no conversaw
tional powers, " Little Catherine" came to the rescue. " Can yon

sing, Miss M ," said she. The hitherto mute lady breathed an

almost inaudible " yes," and signified her intention of dispensing
with an accompaniment.

Among the delightful lyrics of Moore, few possess more beauty
than the well-known " Meeting of the Waters." Melody ripples
through every line ; it is one of those exquisite gems of song
which, once familiar, will often float unbidden through a mind that

would fain muse on higher things. Miss M began to sing, if

we may apply that term to her performance, this exquisite strain
with a sepulchral voice, and as she proceeded her countenance as-
sumed an expression of awful solemnity. The (bur long verses of
the " Meeting" were rendered in a movenient some degrees slower
than the largo in " Mozart's Requiem." Mother McAuley ob-
serving her risible Catherine nearly convulsed with suppressed
laughter, motioned her out of the room. Most of the postulantes
following her example, the audience became " small by degrees,
and beautifully less." When the vocalist finished the verse " Sweet
Vale of Avoca," she repeated the third, and having encored her-
self several times, at last gave up from sheer exhaustion.

* Ho took offence bocausa he had called at St. Mary's throe times, and Mother
McAuley happened to be out at each viiiit. lie then declared he would never
darken Baggot-atreot House again, adding, " It is harder to see Misa McAuley
tbau it used to be, in my youtli, to see Pope Oaiiganelli." He relented, how-
ever, and the Foundress was within when next he oame.

wmm

r m

LITE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

" The ' Meeting of the Waters' is a very beantifol song, my
dear," remarked the Fonndress, with admirable pclf-possession.
Little Catherine was adrancing to request another song, when a
look from her aunt, who could not stand much more, restrained
her. In a few days Miss M announced her desire of remov-
ing her goods and chattels to other quarters ; but it speaks well
for the prudence and charity of Mother McAuley, that of all who
had been obliged to leave St. Mary's, not one ever departed with
nnfriendly or nnoharitable feelings towards the Commanity or the
Foundress.

The virtues of little Catherine were such, that her aunt often
said that " she was fit to unite with the angels." Her piety,
charity, and amiability were quite wonderful. Poor children were
the most beloved objects of her zeal ; for these she performed the
meanest offices in a manner which proved that she served Jesus
Christ in them. For about a year she had been struggling with a
milder form of consumption. In the beginning of July she was
attacked with the fainting fits which usually have a fatal termina-
tion in that disease, and when her aunt returned from Cork, life
was fast ebbing. She passed away on the 1th of August, and on
the 8th the Foundress thus communicated uer bereavement to Dr.
Fitzgerald :

" My dear Rev. Sib : Our innocent little Catherine* is out of
this miserable world. She departed a little before twelve, last
night. Thanks be to Ood, she suffered very little — not more than
one hour of distressed breathing— and her playfulness continued to
the last, mingled with an occasional awful feeling, but nothing like
melancholy. She received the last sacraments on Saturday, with
great fervor and delight. We feel just now as if all the house
was dead, so sorry are we all to part with our sweet, animated
little companion.

'Little Catherine's great de'.ight was to perform with her own hands for the poor
little ones those kind ofBoes which, though little in themselves, are proofs of a
generous and affectionate heart, and a loul overflowing with charity. Those who
bad the happiness of being associated willt her in the performance of her duties,
M members of the Sisterhood, long preserved the recollection of her worth, and
(till speak of her with the most affectionate remembrance." — Bkelohei qf Jriih
JVunnerie*, p. 156.

LIFB OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

827

tiful song, my
nclf-possession.

song, when a
ore, restrained
sire of remov-

it speaks well
;hat of all who

departed with
mmanity or the

her aunt often
J." Her piety,
r children were
5 performed the
le served Jesus
:,ruggling with a
of July she was
a fatal termina-
from Cork, life
August, aad on
eavement to Dr.

ierine*i8 out of

ore twelve, last

not more than

less continued to

but nothing like

Saturday, with

if all the house

sweet, animated

hands for the poor
Ives, are proofs of a
sharity. Those who
rmance of her duties,
on of her worth, and
'—SkeloheM qf Irish

" I hope you have been pretty well since I had the pleasure of
seeing you. The Sisters here are in retreat, except those en«
gaged with me in the scene of sorrow. Thank God, it is over. I
know you will pray for me. As for her, I believe she was fit to
unite with the angels, so pure, so sincerely devoted to God was
she. May I beg you to give my most affectionate love to my
dearest Sisters, and> to believe me, dear Rev. Sir, with great re-
spect and esteem,

" Your attached and faithful

" Mary Catherine McAclkt.
" Tery Rev. Andrew FrrzaiRAU), Ac, &c."

This letter, written as it was, beside the mortal remains of her
whom she loved best on earth, and in the first moments of be-
reavement, evinces great nobility of soul. Catherine was her
name-child, she had watched* over her from infancy with maternal
love, and formed her plastic heart to every virtue. Mary Teresa
had been her companion, but Catherine she regarded as her child :
yet ever unselfish, she seeks no sympathy, she makes common
cause with the Sisters, and writes as if they had as much reason,
to be grieved as she. But deeply as they regretted the void or
casioned by the departure of their joyous young companion, they
could not feel as their sorrow-stricken mother felt. Yet this death
was rather a consolation than an afiSiction. " I know you will pray
for me. As for her, I believe she was fit to unite with the angels."
How pure, how holy must this angelic creature have been, when
her saintly relative, who knew her every thought, refrains from
asking Dr. Fitzgerald to remember her in the Holy Sacrifice I
Could she speak more confidently, had she been favored with a
revelation of her " mnocent Gatheiine's" admission to the realms
of bliss?

On the Feast of the Assumption, 1837, she writes of her god-
child : " Teresa hos received the cap to-day to fill my dearest
child's vacancy. She is delighted, and promises great things ;

* Catherine lived in Baggot-stroet from the deatli of her fatlier, 1829. 8he
and tlie Foundress' godchild, Teresa, were educated by governesses, who daily
attended to instruct them. When Catherine entered the novitiate, in 1884,
Teresa was sent to a boardiog-scnool, near Dublin, conducted by a Mrs, Ilioklk

828

«p

LIFE OF CATHERINS IICAULEY.

may God give her the grace of holy perseverance." She then
apostrophizes the life of a Sister of Mercy : " O blessed and hap-
py life, which makes death so sweet !" But her thoughts arc with
her departed one, for she presently adds : " Our dear Catherine
might indeed have sung, in the last hours of her innocent life, ' O
Death I where is thy sting V for she did not seem to feel any."
Three months later, a passage in one of her letters shows that her
heart is still bleeding for the loss ot her "sweet, animated, little
companion :

" I hope to be in Carlow by half-past twelve, Thursday night.
I entreat that you all will go to rest as usual. I shall not be able
to speak till morning. If you conveniently can, give mc a place to
rest alone in for a few hours, but 7wt where I was with my child"

Pressing business prevented her return to Cork till the middle of
September, on the eighth of which she wrote :

" I expected to be in Cork before this. The poor Sisters will be
greatly disappointed. I am now waiting for a packet, one just got
off without my having heard of it. I left my poor Sister M. Ckre
in a very unfinished state. She writes full of doubts and fears, and
no wonder. I know she has too much to encounter till the way \b
made easier for hur. Please God, I will soon go there."

During her second visit, she completely regained the good old
Bishop's favor. She ever held him in great esteem, revering him
as a father, and following his wise counsels. He bestowed many
benefactions on the House of Mercy, which was his favorite object
of charity, and in his will bequeathed to the convent part of his
library and some valuable oil paintings. He used to say, that he
daily carried all the Sisters of Mercy in his heart when he offered
the Holy Sacrifice. Indeed, he was a father to all the Religions
in his diocese, and was known, in more places than one, as " the
Bishop who was fond of books and Religious society." One day,

as he entered the recreation-room of the N Convent, a merry

little postulant rallied him pleasantly on his supposed preference for
the Order of Morcy. " I don't see why you are so fond of those
new Orders, my Lord," said she. " They want more help than the
old ones," returned the venerable patriarch, for those who most
needed his assistance, always got most of it.

jabm

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

329

«." She then
essed and hap-
)ught8 arc with
dear Catherine
nocent life, ' O
1 to feel any."
shows that her
animated, little

Thursday night,
ihallnotbe able
re me a place to
with my child,"
ill the middle of

!or Sisters will be
kct, one just got
Sister M. Clare
ts and fears, and
er till the way is •
there."

id the good old
sm, revering him
bestowed many
is favorite object
vent part of his
to say, that he
when he ofifered
all the Religious
lan one, as " the
liety." One day,
Convent, a merry
sed preference for
so fond of those
ore help than the
those who most

But an animated discussion of the relative merit of different Or-
ders having eusned, and the Bishop perceiving that her zealous
esprit du corps was in danger of becoming inordinate, pleasantly
cried out :

" Ah, my child, you love your own the best, and yon therefore
argue that it must be the best. ' The currier thinks there is no-
thing like leather.' "

His retorts were not always complimentary. To a young Sister
of high birth, whom he heard giving expression to some aristo-
cratic ideas, he said :

" Your family is good, and virtue gives lustre to its antiquity ;
but take care, my child, lest you become a crooked branch of a
good tree."

Never again did a word escape her which could intimate
whether she was of patrician, plebeian, or equestrian origin.

" I have a fiira hope," wrote the Foundress to the Superioress
of St. Maiie's of the Isle, " that the Institute over which you now
preside, will not be excelled by any in the Order." This hope was
fully realized. Yet the cautious prudence of the kind Prelate was
sometimes an impediment ; his surveillance extended to the for-
tunes, families, and connections of all who desired f o enter. *' No
one likes to propose here, now," writes the Superioress, " there is
so much scrutiny into family concerns, and so much about money,
though we find that a little suffices for us, and we have a good
deal to spare." The Foundress, though well pleased that Bishops
should be particular in these respects, thought Monseigneur of
Cork a little too much so. When she learned that the Bishop of
Meath, who had a similar tendency, hesitated in consenting to the
profession of a novice in Tullamore, because her family refused
to pay more than half the promised portion, she wrote : " I read
such sentences with satisfaction ; they prove a fatherly guidance,
and are a shield from censure. I like this (episcopal surveillance)
when not carried quite so far as Cwk."

While at St. Marie's, Mother McA ' y had a railing placed be-
fore the choir-windows, which fronted on the street. One of her
workmen was incorrigibly lazy, and though he might work on till
eight in the evening, he invariably commenced to lean on his spade

830

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

S?'

at fire. When called to an accoant, he replied that he " could
not work a stroke for the king's dominions." Farther pressed, he
declared that " the ladies within regularly began to jaw and scold
at that honr every evening ; sometimes one would get it all to
herself, and then the others took the words out of her month, and
he was so distracted that he couldn't go on." He added, that
in all the ladies he ever worked for, he never heard " the likes o'
that." The Foundress related this at recreation,* and the Sisters
could not but smile at the compliment it implied with reference to
the sweet tones in which they clianted the Office.

* It was amazing to see how the Foundress adapted herself to the. peculiari-
Ues of those with whom she came in contact. Perliaps there is no country in
the world, of equal extent, tiiat has as many local peculiarities as Ireland ; bat
Mother MoAuley was perfectly at home everywhere. She could smile at the
jests of the Corlc people, and congratulate them on their constitutional cheer*
fulness, whicli rendered it so easy for them to " serve the Lord with joy and
gladness ;" she could discuss obsolete escutcheons with the Galway aristocracy,
and then gently suggest that it is a small thing to be raised above others by
rank, if we do not dI«o excel them in virtue;, with the Tipperary people she
could be flery, wit^ Northerns she could be demure ; she could be phleg-
matio with the Ge lively with the French, *' calculating" with the Yan-

kees. Burt how g. -^t her mortification have been when she was thus able

to aooommodate herself to every one, to become all to all that she might gKuall
to Christ 1 , .

■i'j'j.t

lat he " coald
lier pressed, he
I jaw and scold
[ get it all to
iier mouth, and
le added, that
i " the likes o'
and the Sisters
ith reference to

elf to the peculiari-
re U no country in
;ie» 88 Ireland ; but

could smile at the
onBtitutional cheer-
s Lord with joy and

Galway aristocracy,
led above others by
[ipperary people she

she could be phleg-
ting" with tho Yan-
en she was thus abU
jat she might gKUsll

^-.j'^'i*

CHAPTER XXXII.

Sister M. de Chaiital. — Deaths. — A broken arm.—" A boy that will not bo
good." — The Chaplaincy difficulties. — Letters. — Dean Mcyler.— "Christ's
BleuBcd Cross." — The Limerick Foundation. — Death of Sister M. Teresa Pot-
ter. — Letter of condolence.

AT the Profession of a Sister in Cork, Bisliop Murphy sug-
gested the expediency of declaring in the formula of the vows,
the special objects of the Order of Mercy, as distinct from other
orders ; and, after some discussion, it was agreed to insert the
clause, " and the service of the poor, sick, and ignorant," which
some considered a fourth vow, and which others understood to be
included in tl vow of obedience.

On the tw onty-sixth of October, a letter announcing the serious
illness of Sister M. de Chantal, hurried Reverend Mother from
Cork, but the saintly invalid expired before her Mother reached
Dublin.

This edifying Religious was the widow of the late Dr. McCann,
and had come to St. Mary's, in her weeds, in 1833. Charity to
the poor was the most conspicuous among her virtues. Whatever
she gave was enhanced by her manner of giving it, and with cor-
poral relief she never failed to bestow spiritual alms also. Some-
times her charities were bestowed too indiscriminately, for her
maxim was :

" It is better to relieve a hundred impostors, if there be any
such, than to suffer one really distressed person to be sent away
empty ;" and she entirely agreed with that amiable French prin-
cess, who said, ' We ought to assist the good, to keep them good;
and the bad, to make them good.' "

Giving an account of this desith, the Foundress writes ;

" Exactly the same fever which was sent by God to take ou
pious, valued Bishop, Dr. Nolan, came, I trust, from the Divine

fiammm

332

LIFE OP CATHEBINE MCAULET.

hand for onr dear, innocent Sister, M. de Chantal. She had quite
a stintly end, continually repeating aloud, ' My God ! I love Thee;
forgive me and take me to Thyself.' The physicianu were aston-
ished."

Indeed, God continued ever and anon to ask the Foundress for
the most precious of her children " to deck His paradise ;" and
He found her ever ready to yield them, for the dearer they were
to her, the more joyfully did she give them back to Him. The
amiable and gifted sister, Mechtildis GafiFney, whose uncle* had
brought her from France to present her to the Order of Mercy »
had not time to yield much service on earth when she was sum-
moned from this passing life. To the last she desired to assist the
poor; and when too weak to do anvUiing else, sought to share the
writing business of the House of M cy, which she did till the pen
dropped from her slender white fingoFs, soon after which she went
to receive the reward of her devoteduess. Mother McAuley's
virtues, especially her spirit of labor and her devotion to the poor,
were quite contagious ; and no true child of hers is without a large
share in these virtues.

Sister M. Agnes Marmion quickly followed Sister Mechtildis.
Her exquisitely cultivated voice and i.eil-trained fingers were
long missed ia the music choir ; but the memory of her virtues
lived after her oEBce there had been well filled.

In November, 1837, Mother McAuley met with an accident, to
which she alludes in a letter dated December 6th :

"I went to Kingstown to condole with the Sisters on the death
of their dear holy companion. Sister M. de Chantal. Going down
to Matins, I missed the first step of the stairs, fell forwards, and,
in endeavoring to save my head from thd window, broke my left
arm across the wrist, and injured the sinews in the back of my
hand so much, that I am not likely to have the use of it for some
months to come, if ever." She was obliged to remain some days
without undressing, the inflammation being so great that leeches
had to be constantly applied. But she makes little or nothing ot
the paiu and inconvenience of a broken arm bound up in boards.

•Very Rov. Deuii Giiffiiey, whom wo liavo so nfton quoted. Hor brotliors,
Kbv. Me»sr». Gutfiiey, S. J., w«ru iil>'o vury frieii>lly to thu Order of Moroy.

mii iip .^':.

LIFE OP CATHERIKE MCAULEY.

833

She bad quite
[ 1 I love Thee;
anj were aston-

e Foundress for
[Paradise ;" and
earer they were
to Him. The
lose uncle* had
)rder of Mercji
;n she was sum-
red to assist the
ight to share the
3 did till the pen
• which she went
ther McAuley'8
otion to the poor,
I without a large

ister Mechtildis.
ed fingers were
y of her virtues

1 an accident, to

ters on the death
il. Going down
[u forwards, and,
|w, broke my left
the back of my
[se of it for some
>main some days
;rcat that leeches
;tlc or nothing ot
ind up in boards.

Itcd. Hor brotliors,
)i der of Mcroy.

When the first symptoms of improvement appeared, she wrote to
the Superioress of St. Leo's, thus :

"I have great hopes of getting my old companion on duty
again ; and I am happy to tell you, from experience, that a broken
arm is by no means so distressing a matter as I always supposed it.
However, take great care of your bones, if you go through the new
convent before the stairs are put up ; for though not at all pro-
portioned to the lamentations we hear on such occasions, it gives
a general shock to the whole system that is not easily re-
covered."

Mother JlcAuley's nephews having left college, James and
Robert entered as law students, besides which, the latter wrote for
some periodicals, and had serious thoughts of adopting literature
as a profession. They soon determined to remove to London, in
which determination she would not oppose them, though she was
anxious to have them as much as possible under her own eye. Her
youngest nephew, William, was a source of much uneasiness to
her. He would not embrace any profession, and, finally, took it io
his head to go to sea, a seafaring life being about the last thing
sue would select for him ; but no coaxing or remonstrance could
keep him in the Queen's dominions. " William," she pathetically
writes, " would not be good. He has gone on a voyage to Demar
rara, perhaps, that may reduce his obstinacy. James procured the
vessel, and settled with the captain in a manner I could not expect ;
he seems quite out of his idleness and folly." She never saw Wil-
liam again, nor could she learn whether he wac living or dead. He
came home, when "absence had reduced his obstinacy;" like the
Prodigal, he rame to crave her blessing and her forgirencss, for ho
dearly loved her, and deeply regretted the tears his levity and wil-
fulness had cost her. Now he was determined to repair all — never
again would she Have reason to find fault with him. Poor boy f
the mild blue eyes that had so lovingly watched over his Yvnyward
youth were ci ised, and the gentle voice that so often sought to win
him to his duty was hushed forever — ere he reached his native
city, and his brothers had gone before his aunt. It was too much
for his afifectionate heart. The next ship that steered out of Dub-
lin harbor had him for a passenger. He bade an eternal adieu to

834

LIFE OF OATHEKINE MCAULET.

Ireland, and has never since been heard of by his friends ia.
Dublin.*

The chaplaincy difficulties, which reached their climax this yeaf
(1838), were a source of intense solicitude to the Foundress. From
1828, the friends of the institute who resided near, had been accus-
tomed to attend Mass in the Convent Chapel. These often gave
small donations, which, with the full approbation of Dr. Blake,
then Pastor of St. Andrew's, were added to the tunds of the Ser-
vants' Asylum, or House of Mercy. In 1838, Very Rev. Dean
Meyler, then vicar, withdrew the chaplain, and the whole commu-
nity were daily obliged to go out to Mass. Rev. Mother provided
covered cars to convey the dtlicate sisters ; but she herself walked.
Indeed, she even managed to dress without assistance, those dark
winter mornings, though her broken arm was still in a sling. She
makes as light as possible of all this.

" We go to Westland Row," she writes. " I carry my childf
in its cradle. Twelve couple start as gayly as we did when
traveling to Clarendon-street in our first happy days. We remain
for three Masses, and are home at nine. I wrote to Dr. Blake,
stating our grievances, and will act according to his advice. Yoa
know how difficult it is to get the poor women and children oat
and home again on days of obligation, and their confessions are,
of course, neglected. The Archbishop does not interfere. He
permitted Dr. Blake, when Vicar, to give ns a Chaplain and two
Masses ; now he allows another in the same authority to act as
he pleases. All is fair and right, and will end well if Qod is not
offended."

If Mother McAuley did not state her troubles as fully as she
might, others did, and several letters of sympathy and condolence
flowing in upon her, she gave the following reply to one of them :

" If I have inspired the melancholy view you have taken of oar
Bituation, I assure you I did not intend to do so. We have now,
indeed, more than an ordinary portion of the Cross, but is it not
the " Cross of Christ" which we so often pray may be constantly

* Probably lie died boou after )iU second voyage, as lie inherited oonsumpUon
from \m mother,
t lier broken arm. , ,. , _ " ., i

Mipveiv

LIFE OF CATHKBIKE MCAULBT.

888

lis friendfl ift

limax this yea*
undress. From
lad been accus-
hese often gave
of Dr. Blake,
unds of the Ser-
ery Rev. Dean
le whole commu-
Mother provided
B herself walked.
;ancc, those dark
in a sling. She

carry my childf
i we did when
lays. We remain
ote to Dr. Blake,
his advice. You
and children out
confessions are,
lot interfere. He
Ihaplaiu and two
ithority to act as
rell if God is not

|es as fully as she
»y and condolence
to one of them :
lave taken of our
We have now,
Jross, but is it not
[may be constantly

Inlieritod oon»uinpUoa

about us ?* It has not any of the marks of an angry cross.
There is no disunion, no gloomy depression of spirits, no departure
from charity resulting from it. The difficulties lessen every day ;
we get onr poor inmates out to confession by six at a time, with
Eliza to bring them safe home. We get an occasional charitable
Mass. I am sure Dr. Meyler would wish the matter settled ac-
cording to his own plan. We should then have at least three
priests, and never know whom to call on as friend or Chaplain,f
and for this we must pay fifty pounds a year. When I have the
happiness of seeing Dr. Fitzgerald, I will tell him, and him only,
another strong reason why the proposed connexion should, if pos-
sible, be avoided. I am not unhappy, thank Qod, nor do I see
any dleedification likely to result from the matter. Some think
that, after having had Father Burke for eight years, we are not
now easily pleased ; and most of those who know the cause why
we go out, seem to think we ought to have a distinct Chaplain, and
only say that Dr. Meyler is a little positive. This is the extent of
it at present. It is humiliatiHg, no doubt, a smart attack on self-
importance, and if this part of it is well managed, it must turn to
good account. We continue to go to WesUand Row every morn-
ing, which gives us a good appetite for our breakfast

" We have a nice little cross in Kingstown. Law proceedings
commenced for the school buildings. I suppose we must sell the
convent. You have now the double cross, the cross in the diocese
and the cross oui of it. All is consoling and animating, thanks
be to God. The contributions go on well, great relief afforded,
the extem| dinner increased, and the house crowded. Twenty
went to situations this week, twenty more came in. The dear

* May the ('roB8 of ChrUt be always about us 1" is a ootninon acpiration
among the poor in Ireland, from whom tlio Foundress learned it.

X The ChaplRln at St. Mary's was confessor to the servants and orphans, and
it might not be well to give tliem three dlroocom instead of one ; all could not
be expected to tnke the vame intvrcRt. Tlie fifty pounds a year was not the
fiifflculty, for Mr. Delnny, of Castle Diirrow, offered to pay that, tliongh Bev.
Mr. Burke never accepted more tlinn forty pounds a ycnr from tlie Institute.

t Some poor persons dined daily at the House of Mercy ; others, who worked
out, but could not pny for decent lodgings, slept there ; while about eighty lived
there entirely.

836

LIFE OP OATHKEINK MOAULET.

chapel is now a choir, the choir a parlor, and the grate boarded
np."

Dr. Fitzgerald came to Dablin to use his influence in arranging
this business, bat he was quite unsuccessful. " He acted like a
true friend," wrote the Foundress ; " aud though in public and
private he exclaimed agai*". what he thought unjust and unkind,
yet he reasoned with me so as to produce calm and quiet of mind."
Tery Rev. Jas. Maher came with similar intentions, and during his
stay officiated daily in the Sisters' chapel. He had arranged to
celebrate Mass at St. Mary's on the 9tb January, 1838, but was
suddenly called home. The Foundress addressed him the following
pleasant letter the same day :

" Mr DEAR Fathek Maher :

" I am very sorry you did not complete the full week's attend-
ance, which, according to the statutes now most rigorously obserred
in the archdiocese, would have entitled you to a pound or a
guinea, whichever you preferred. I really cannot say, without
making inquiry, whether a broken week is payable or not. You
will excuse me for taking this little advantage, for yon know
although I should be simple as a dove, I must also be wise as a
serpent ; and since there is little good to be accomplished or evil
to bo avoided without the aid of money, we must look after it in
small matters as well as in great.

" I have now to deplore the loss of a superfine veal cutlet,
specially provided for this morning. A dear, nice little tea-kettle
W118 ready to supply boiling water to the second or third cup, as
might be required, — and my poor, infirm hand employed far be-
yond its strength in making the fire burn brilliantly, giving a sharp
edge to the knife to set off the cutlet, roasting a plate, etc., etc.

" Most sincerely thanking for past services, and begging a con-
tinuance of the same,

r, " I remain, dear sir,

' ■'? " Your ever grateful

" Mary 0. McAulet.

*' P. S. — Don't forfeit all chance of the pound ; perhaps yoa con
make up the week without violating the law."

*.:-di,iiMmi. -

LIFE OP CATHEBINE MC/TTLEY.

887

. grate boarded

ice in arranging
He acted like a
h in public and
ijust and unkind,
idqttietofmind."
IB, and during bis
had arranged to
ry, 1838, but was
him the following

rail week's attend-
igorously observed
to a pound or a
mnot say, without
able or not. You
ige, for you know
t also be wise as a
ccomplished or evil
ist look after it in

iperfine veal cutlet,
nice little tea-kettle

|nd or third cup, as
id employed far b©-
intly, giving a sharp
[aplate, etc., etc.
and begging a con-

Icful

Iarv C. McAolkt.

id; perhaps you can

About the same time, she wrote to the Superioress at St Leo's:

" The kiad interest Very Rev. Mr. Maher manifested was most
consoling, because genuine ; indeed, I could speak to him with all
the confidence of ^ well-tried frieud, and such does not often fall to
my lot. He promised to do Something about the sermon. Coax
him with all possible earnestness. This is a season of particular
pity ; and if our means stop, we must stop too. Oh I how you
should bless Qod for having made provision for the poor about
you — not to be depending on daily exertions, so difficult to
keep up."

On the 23d of the same montb, she again writes to Father
Maher, then a very popular preacher ;

" Yon created some little hope in my mind relative to the ser-
mon for our poor, which is appointed for February 18th. Will
you have pity on us now, and we will feel particularly grateful, and
pray most fervently for you ? I shall anxiously look for a favor-
able reply ; perhaps we za&j not be disappoiuted."

y- nwhue, Dr. Meyler still refusing a chaplain to the Institute,
and tne Sisters daily seen going in procession to a church almost
a mile off, it began to be whispered that there was some misunder-
standing between the Community and the clergy, which, whatever
party was in fault, was equally disedifying. Mother McAnley
would make almost any concession rather than have the lightest
difference with a priest, but Dr. Meyl'"' was inflexible. Whatever
happened towards the middle of 1838, lo aggravate her difllculties,
never passed her lips ; but it was no ordinary combination of afflic-
tions that wrung from the silent, reserved Catherine McAuley the
only words in her whole correspondence that show any thing like
depression — "Pray fervently for me, that God may remove all
bitterness far from me. I can hardly think of what has been done
to me without resentment. May Qod forgive me, and make me
truly humble, before He calls me into His presence." Those who
lived with her always spoke of her as one whom nothing could
ruffle, but, on this occasion, her unalterably calm exterior was not
unlike snow on a volcr.no.

As Dean Meyler entered her room, on the day of her departure
from this world, she turned her dying gaze on him with a smile of

ipp

388

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

ineffable swectnes?. Was she thinking that she owed roach of her
coming glory to the patience with which she had borne the years
of suffering he occasioned her ? Her hamility would not permit
this. Besides, the light of another world was already reflected on
her countenance, and she was beginning to realize " how sweet it
is" for one like her " to die." Likely, ho did not think for a mo-
ment that the dying servant of God owed the bitterest pangs of a
strangely-chequered life to him. He was but an instrument in the
omnipotent hand of Him " who doeth all things well," to increase
her glory by adding, unconsciously, perhaps, to her sufferings. He
began to appreciate her just as she was about to be translated to
a happier home, but she ever rerered and esteemed him.

In the chaplain affair. Dr. Meylcr certainly acted harshly ; but
his error was of the head rather than the heart, for we believe he
would not wilfully do what he conceived to be unjust. After about
three years, he yielded a small portion of his rights — even kings
are obliged to make concessions sometimes — he gave a distinct chap-
lain, but ordered the public chapel at St. Mary's to remain closed.

In the spring of 1838, Very Rev. James Maher having an-
nounced to her the death of a Sister at St. Leo's, she wrote as
follows :

" I have received your kind letter, dear Father, and am exceed-
ingly concerned at the melancholy communication. Thank Qod>
the event has been attended with such consoling circumstances. It
must be a severe trial to her relations ; to my dear Sisters, I
know, it is a real portion of the cross, and as such I trust they
will embrace it as the holy will of God, with humble resignation.
I have great happiness in knowing that they will receive from you
0,11 the solid counsel and animating comfort which affectionate
fatherly feelings can dictate. The most sensible participation of
the trial has already spread through St. Mary's and all unite in
earnest prayer for our poor Sister." , - i, .

At the same time she wrote to the Superioresf :

" How deeply, how sincerely I participate in this second trial
with 'vhich God has socn fit to afflict you 1 Best assured. He will
send yon some distinguished consolation soon. The reward always
comes after a well-received Cross."

LIFK OF CATHERINE MCA u LET.

839

ycd much of her
borne the years
ould not permit
eady reflected on
ze " how sweet it
\. think for a mo-
tcrest pangs of a
instrument in the
well," to increase
er sufferings. He

be translated to
ed him.

cted harshly ; but
, for we believe he
njust. After about
rights— even kings
ave a distinct chap-
; to remain closed.
Maher having an-
Leo's, she wrote as

ler, and am excced-
ition. Thank God»

1 circumstances. It
my dear Sisters, I
8 such I trust they
humble resignation,
rill receive from you

which affectionate
ible participation of
y'sand all unite ux

esp :

in this second trial
,e8t assured, He will
The reward always

In 1831, Dr. Ryan, Bishop of Limerick, applied for a few Sis-
ters; but the Foundress intimated that, for the present, she really
had none to spare. Ho wrote again, stating that two or three
would BuflSce ; " a beginning once made," he continued, " several
ladies of the city would join the Institute." He afterwards sent
his Vicar to negotiate the business, and it was arranged that a
foundation should set out for Limerick, in autumn, 1838.

This year Mother McAuley received a donation of a hundred
pounds from an old cook, who had worked hard many a year to
earn it. It was given to furnish a dormitory for poor servants,
and the charitable donor did not even send her name with it, un-
willing that her left hand should know what her right hand did.
The Foundress was greatly touched with the genuine charity of
this poor woman, whose name, unknown on earth, will be repeated
with glory on the judgment-day.

Ou the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady, 1838, Reverend
Mother, with four Sisters, set out for Limerick, '■ 'nch they reached
on the Feast of our Lady of Mercy, after ma', g a visit to Cork
and another to Charleville. The following letter from the " City
of the Violated Treaty," contains scraps of all sorts :

" I cannot say when I shall be able to leave this foundation,
which, with much to excite hope, has still very much to contend
with. It is quite novel to find those who have the smallest means
most afraid to join us ; in this they are encouraged by some who
say: 'If this Convent breaks up, as others have, you would be
nuns indeed, but what house would receive you without funds ?'
The friends of those who have property excite their fears by say-
ing that they might be obliged to go where they did not like.
Such a perplexing conflict as we have every dayl I cannot go
for a month yet. As to Sister M. Elizabeth, we never sent oat
such a faint-hearted soldier, now that she is in the field. She will
do all interior and exterior work, but to meet on business, confer
with the Bishop, conclude with a new subject, you might as well
send the child that opens the door ! This will surprise you, yet
she is greatly liked, and when the first alarms aro over, and a few
in the house, all will go on well. Sister M. Vincent Hartnett was
professed yesterday; we were obliged to admit several persons.

840

LIFE OF CATHBBINE MOATJLEY.

The sermon was very fine, and the singing good ; my most angelio
Sister M. Aloysia presiding at the organ. I never kne^v her per-
fectly till now. She is unalterably sweet and placid, and unceas-
ing in her efiforts to promote the objects of the lustitute. The
sweetest we ever had could, perhaps, be a little ruffled, especially
on occasions like this ; but she is never moved in look or manner.
She is everything at all times — how did I live so long with such a
person and not know her ? We finished our Thirty Days' Pray-
ers, and are now going to say the whole Psalter f" ; fifteen days —
this is our last hope.

" Do not say a word of any fears for this house. Every word
takes wing. My language must be encouraging. If they thought
I spoke unfavorably, I should get nothing done these three months.
We have never yet seen the Foundress* — this is gospel perfection."

Under a later date she says :

" The poor here are in a miserable state, and the whole sur-
rounding neighborhood one scene of wretchedness and sorrow.
Postulants will not do well till attired in the religious dress ; the
people arc very sharp, and say queer things ; even the poor do not
like ' the caps.' Every place has its own peculiar ideas and feel-
ings, which must be yielded to when possible. A Miss Bridgman
has entered, and a Miss O'Farrell, the lattei' of almost as much
mind and formed character as our darling Mary Teresa.

" Sister E. Potter was certoinly designed for the place. Her
ardent zeal for Limerick made her uneasy elsewhere ; and her be*
ing on the spot, with good connections and interest, promoted the
object very much. The gentlemen are all with us now ; fathers,
brothers, and uncles will give no assent to any other house."

Mother McAuley gives the following account of her new
abode :

"This is a very nice old Convent, called 'St. Peter's Cell,' en-
closed by the walls of an abbey, a beautiful ruin. Opposite the
cell I occupy, is a beautiful tomb in which a holy Abbess and a
Lay Sister are deposited ; a very large weeping willow overhangs
the grave. It looks delightful, and excites to meditation of the

* MUb Ueffernan, who settled a flue property by deed, for the endowment of
the Convent.

.ii | i i ii lli l l^lpilWWPJK«

LIFE OF CATHERmiB MOAULBT.

841

ny most angeUo
r knew ber per-
3\d, and nnceas-
lustitute. The
uffled, especially
look or manner,
ong with such a
irty Pays' Pray-
;r : fifteen days—

ise. Every word

If they thought

eae three months.

rospel perfection."

id the whole snr-
nes3 and sorrow,
ligious dress ; the
en the poor do not
liar ideas and feel-

A Miss Bridgmaa

if almost as much

Teresa.

ir the place. Her

rhere ; and her be-

ircst, promoted the
us now ; fathers,

»ther house."

iount of her new

It. Peter's Cell,' en-
kin. Opposite the
Iholy Abbess and ft
Ig willow overhangs
meditation of the
I, for the endowment of

most consoling 'iiind. We have a very nice chapel and choir, good
garden, and extensive school-rooms. The approach is very bad,
but this is of no consequence to us, as we should often have to
visit the neighborhood. The house is surrounded by trees and re-
creation ground, all being enclosed within fine old walls, entirely
lined with ivy. It is capable of being made a very valuable insti-
tution, if God will grant his blessing to our exertions. I am sure
you will obtain for us all the prayers you can. Get the Sisters to
invite their Patron Saints, and implore St. Teresa, who loved
foundations, to intercede for poor Limerick, where no good seed
has yet taken root."

The Limerick House, having overcome the early obstacles, was
blessed with immense success. Owing to the generosity of the
Bishop and clergy, and the valuable bequests received, the Sisters
arc able to bestow large charities on the poor. The poor-schools
are, we believe, the largest in Ireland, five thousand children being
the daily average attendance. A splendid asylum was erected and
endowed for one hundred and fifty orphans, by Peter Arthur, Esq. ;
and a little later, a Widows' Asylum, by Very Rev. Father
O'Meara. Right Rev. Bishop Ryan, Very Rev. Dean Coll, and
Very Rev. Dr. Walsh, endowed, respectively, three other charitable
institutions, superintended by the Sisters, The Mercy Hospital
accommodates five hundred patients, all of the poorest class.

" They have, indeed, a sweet community in Limerick," wrote the
Foundress, in 1839. "Every thing goes on well there, thank
God." To the Superioress, S. M. Elizabeth Moore, who soon got
over her timidity, she wrote, on hearing of some successes :

" How heartily, how fervently I rejoice in every circumstance
that contributes to your spiritual and temporal happiness. All that
I hear of the dear Limerick Sisters brings joy to my mind. They
are pronounoed the good seed, and thanks be to God, they are
placed in a good soil. May God grant you lively gratitude and
profound humility 1 Then, indeed, you will be a child of Bene-
diction I''

In March, 1840, Mother McAuley received a letter from Lim-
erick, announcing the serious illness of Sister M. Teresa Potter, to
which she sent the following reply :

842

LIFE OP CATHKBINE MCAULET.

•' God will support you in this great affliction. I know Ho wilL
His holy will be done. If he call her away, it will be to shield
her from some impending evil, or to exercise your patience, or to
try whether you love Him as well when He takes as when He gives.
Some grand motive must actuate all His visitatinns. I shall be
agitated at the sight of your next letter. May God bless and
preserve you all, and grant you all cheerful resignation to His di-
vine will."

In the same mouth, she lost her beloved Sister M. Frances
Marmion, whose last moments she thus describes :

" At half-past five this morning, we were saying the last prayers
for our dear Sister M. Prances. It is now past twelve, and she is
yet alive, but has not spoken since six. She is in the noviceship,
where we had Mass celebrated for her after seven. From that
time till now, she has not been more nneasy than she often was in
unquiet sleep. I think she will speak again. Do you remember
how our dear Sister M. Agnes Marmion spoke long after we
thought she never would ? It is a melancholy consolation to look
for ; yet 1 think we would all like to hear her gentle voice once more.
May God grant ns all humble resignation to His adorable will."

Under a later date, she adds :

" I have just taken off the church-cloak after following the dear
remains of our beloved and edifying Sister M. Frances Marmion.
She did not speak again as I expected — expired without any
struggle. This is a season of sorrow with us, thank God."

The same day came a letter, announcing the death of Sister M.
Frances Mahony, in Cork, and a little later, one from the Supe-
rioress of " St. Peter's Cell," which told of the death of the gifted
Sister M. Teresa Potter. In reply to the latter, the Foundress
wrote :

" I implore God to comfort you. I know He will. This has
not been done in anger. Some joyful circumstance will soon prove
that He is watching over all your concerns, which are His own.
But without the cross the real crown cannot come. Some great
thing, whicli he designs to accomplish, would be too much without
a little bitterness in the cup. Bless and love the fatherly hand that
has wounded you. He will soon come, both hands filled with fa-

LIFK OF CATHEBINE MCAULET.

848

I know He wilL
(vill be to shield
ar patience, or to
is when He gives,
tions. I shall be
7 God bless and
mtion to His di-

iister M. Frances

ig the last prayers
twelve, and she is
in the noviceship,
even. From that
I she often was in
Do you remember
)ke long after wo
onsolation to look
tie voice once more.
3 adorable will."

' following the dear
Frances Mannion.
pired without, any
hank God."
death of Sister M.
ne from the Supe-
death of the gifted
;ter, the Foundress

He will. This has
[ince will soon prove
which are His own.
coine. Some great
te too much without
le fatherly hand that
hands filled with fa-

vors and blessings. My heart is sqre, not on my own account, not
for the sweet, innocent spirit that has returned to her heavenly
Father's bosom, but for you and yours.

" Earnestly and humbly praying God to grant you, and all the
dear Sisters, His divine consolations, I remain, &c., &c."

The earthly tenement of this " sweet, innocent spirit," was borne
to the Convent Cemetery by six priests, the Bishop and other
clergy walking in front of the coffin, the Sisters in procession be-
hind, and the friends of the deceased heading the cortege.
Thousands, who could not find room in the procession, lined the
garden and cemetery walls, uniting in the beautiful prayers the
Church recites for " those who are gone before us with the sigu
of Faith." On hearing the particulars of this funeral, Afothcr
McAuley wrote :

"When I read your letter in the . ommunity-room, several ex-
claimed : ' that is not death I Who would not like to die under
such circumstances?' They were astonished and delighted. It
was, indeed, a heavenly ceremony, more so than any reception or
profession. It was like a grand entrance into Paradise. It will
even be a powerful attraction to many to put themselves in the
way of obtaining such a blessed departure from this passing world.
When our dear Sister M. Frances departed. Rev. Mr. Carroll, a
very spiritual priest, said to us : 'I congratulate you. You have
or soun will have, another friend in heaven — how delightful to be
forming a community t/iere! What are they here for but to
prepare for heaven? They ought to go as soon as they are ready,
and make room for poor souls that are in the midst of dangers.
There is no other way of carrying on this holy traffic, so as to
meet the designs of God — it is His own divine plan.' This priest
is quite a comfort to us. Sorrow clings close to poor Ba'TTot-
street. Since I commenced this letter, Sister M. Aloysia has
burst a blood-vessel. She was preparing the children for confi^
raation, and made too much exertion. Dr. Carmichael thinks it will
not be serious."

Most people are quite resigned to the afflictions of their neigh-
bors. They can discern the wisdom that sends or permits every
calamity that does not touch themselves ; and in many instances

844

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

this is the Bnm total of their resignation to the dispensations of
ProTidence. Not bo with the Foundress. She can joyfully bear
her own heaviest crosses, but when her children are afflicted, she
feels anxious and agitated, confessing that her " heart is sore" for
tiiem. She is ever ready to give to others the sympathy she never
sought for self. •«

iispenBations of
an joyfully bear
ire afflicted, she
>art is sore" for
ipathy she ncTor

''*:,/"''';i^-.4>.>,r-;

'"""Tt^l--'

'>^=-

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Sister M. Gerirudo Jones. — She shows her brightest colors in dying. — Death of
Robert McAiiloy. — The English Sisters. — National pride. — " Gcnildino." —
Tlie last glimpse of Eriu. — VUit to Newry. — Departure of the Foundreaa for
tlio London mission. . . , ,

BEFORE we speak of the spiritual life of Sister M. Gertrude,
which presented some extraordinary phases, and which we
will, consequently, describe in the words of the Foundre.S8, we will
glance at her early history.

Mary Jones was born in Wales in 1798, among people who
seemed not to be aware that there was any religion but their own
in the world. When nearly seven, she became very ill with whoop-
ing-cough, and the doctors despairing of her recovery, her Irish nurse
told Mrs. Jones that she knew a certain cure for that troublesome
and dangerous disease. The mother wanted her child saved, she cared
not how, and the nurse carried the little one to a priest, pr bably
an emigre, who lived in retirement at some distance, and entreated
him to give her infant patient " a drink out of the chalice," which
he did. Mary recovered — was transferred from the nurse to the
governess — but the manner of the priest a^'l the appearance of
the chalice never left her remembrance till it produced the fruit of
conversion. Whether she read or prayed, or listened to sermons
or meditated; the venerable priest, chalice in hand, was always be
fore her mental eye.

As she grew up, she made inqnu'ies respecting the use of a
chalice, but those to whom she spoke did not understand her, and
the sum of what she could learn from her minister was, that it was
something pertaining to the Catholic religion. She always wanted
to find out more about the chalice, though m yet she had not the
slightest doubts about the truth of her owu religion. Yisiting

*15

ai'. ' ijgi'jei

346

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

friends in London, they happened, when showing her the curiosities
of tliat monster city, to taiic her into a Catholic ch:ipel. There
she rccoj^nized the object of her lifelong inquiry, and, in an ecstacy
of delight, begged a priest whom she saw in the churc. to satisfy
her curiosity. He did so, and, though much gratified, she felt no
desire of changing her religion. On her return home, however, her
mind became greatly disturbed. While in church tl'i wps iu tor-
ture. Ilcr friends could not imagine why she was noi< now so de-
vout as formerly, and wondered what there could be outside their
own religion to attract her. Months rolled by ; her unhappiness
increased hourly ; and she felt that God required something of
her, she hardly knew what, but she was aware no peace could
come while she resisted Ills inspirations. After a long and ter-
rible struggle, she returned to London, and was soon received into
the Catholic Church. Ilearing of the Sisters of Mercy, she be-
came strongly attracted to join their Institute, and was received at
St. Mary's during Mother McAuley's absence at George's Hill,
her English director ',?.ving made the necessary arrangements. She
was, in the course of a few years, received and professed, and, as
may be readily supposed, had an extraordinary devotion to the
Blessed Sacrament. In the fulfilment of her duties she was a
source of great edification to all ; but her cold, reticent manners
and rigid views rendered her far less attractive than tlie bright,
warm-hearted Sisters, who sympathized in her afflictions, which
they could not understand, and loved the reserved Welsh gentle-
woman in ppite of her little peculiarities. Reverend Mother, who
knew her best, revered her as a saint, thopgh she admitted her
case to be altogether extraordinary. The following splendid letter
shows that this gentle, suflFering creature expired like the dolphin,
displaying her brightest tints. It was addressed by the Foundress
to the Superioress of St. Leo's :

" Our poor Sister M. Gertrude is no longer an inhabitant of this
transitory world. She expired on Ascension Day. For the last
year she was chiofly confined to bed ; fourteen weeks ago, she
was removed here (Booterstown) for change of air, and chiefly
that she might have the comfort of being present at Mass, without
having many stairs to descend. No symptoms of death appeared

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

847

lier the cnriositiea
ic cbipel. There
find, iu an ecstacy
clmrc. to satisfy
itified, she felt no
lome, however, her
ch ble WPS iu tor-
as noL now so de-
d be outside their
; her unhappiness
lired something of
ire no peace could
er a long and ter-
1 soon received into
1 of Mercj, she be-
and was received at
3 at George's Hill,
arrangements. She
,d professed, and, as
iry devotion to the
r daties she was a
lid, reticent manners
ive than tlie bright,
cr afflictions, which
served Welsh gentlc-

crcnd Mother, who
she admitted her
owing splendid letter

cd like the dolphin,
sed by the Foundress

rii

an inhabitant of thU
Day. For the last
pteen weeks ago, she
of air, and chiefly
:scnt at Mass, without
ius of death appeared

till Monday. She had every spiritual consolation. Father O'Han-
lon came out here three times to scp her. Her dear remains were
this morning deposited in the vault of St. Teresa's, with those of
her eleven Sisters. We hope to have them all home before an-
other year. (In the cemetery she was having prepared at St.
Mary's.)

" Reviewing all the past, I regard poor Sister M. Gertrude as a
martyr for the Faith. Tte violent efiforts she made to embrace
and practise it, and the total separation from all to whom she was
ever known, gave a shock to the whole nervous system, which
could not be recovered. Delighted with the Catholic Faith, she
fancied that all who observed it must be divine ; hence, she was
often disappointed. Yet, for one moment, she would not think of
returning, lest there migiit be danger of losing It. On Ascension
Day, Sister M. Cecilia said to me : ' Well, Reverend Mother, though
poor Sister was sometimes a little tiresome, I often thought she
was like a martyr. She seemed to be offering violence to feelings
which were not in any degree overcome. All her niiud turned to
England, and English manners. We could not converse so agree-
ably, or do any thing as well as they could In Brldgenorth, which,
she said, possessed every attraction under heaven, but the true
Faith.' . .

" When describing the amiable, and, as she would say, exalted
dispositions of her relations, she seemed to think that they were all
lost for the want of the Catholic Faith. This feeling was engraven
on her soul by some supernatural means. Her case was an extra-
ordinary one : God alone can appreciate its value. She may be
truly said to have taken up her cross, while we, in general, only
carry it when it comes, and keep it away as long as we can. I
am certain her reward will be great. She suffered in mind and
body, for nine yiars, from no visible cause but a rending of the
heart by the violent sacrifice of all the predilections of thirty-seven
years I A vocation to the religious life has its joys, but her whole
concern was the preservation of her Faith Guarding against all
that might put it in danger, she would nut trust her own perse-
verance, unless shielded as she was.

'* Uor countenance was sweetly composed iu death ] her tooth

^mm

348

LIFE OF CATHEBINE HOAULET.

perfectly white, not the slightest swelling in her feet, whi<ili are
strong signs of not being in an unhealthy state of body. She ex-
pressed a great desire to die on Ascension Day. Sister Monica
and I were watching her ; we had said the last prayers two or
three times. At eleven, on Wednesday night, we concludta she
would live a day or two longer, as no change appeared. The in-
stant the clock strack twelve, she stretched ont her arms, and, as
if it were an immediate call on her to go, settled her head, and,
before we could say the prayers, she was gone 1"

This beautiful letter needs no comment.

We have already spoken of Reverend Mother's devotion to the
sick in the convent, but it wonid be impossible to describe it. She
took such pains to provide remedies for their most trifling com-
plaints, that they used to conceal their illnesses as long as possible ;
but her Mother's eye quickly discovered them. Yet, though her
own physical pain sometimes amounted to torture, she never alludes
to it, unless in reply to the oft-repeated queries of a spiritual child.
" Show me how the sick arc treated in any convent," says a spiri-
tual writer, " and I will tell you whether the Spirit of God reigns
there." And certainly, according to this test, the Spirit of God
reigned in the community the first Sister of Mercy governed. No
one equalled her in laborious zeal for the objects of the Institute,
but shi always regarded the promotion of the spiiitual and tem-
poral happiuess of her children as her first duty. In her Rule, she
ordains that " special care be taken of the sick, and suitable reme-
dies provided according to the prescription of the physicio ,i ;" that
"the Sisters, especially the Mother Superior, visit them frequc tly,
treat them with the tenderest charity, and piously console theiu."*

* Tho kindnoHS shown to the weakly among her cliUdren wna well known in
Dablln, but it wan also known thnt it never interfered with diiioiplino. To a
young Iftdy, who was undecided what Order slie sliould join, her director, an
old prlebt, and very pleasant withal, said : " Go to llio Sisters of Mercy. You are
not strong, nud they will And you easy work, and moke great allowances for
your delicacy. But," he continued, changing Ids tone, "in order to jn'rwevere
ther0, you muBt be perfectly obedient. If thoy order you to go up tho oliirnney,
you'll have to do it." "I should ask .^oine of them to go u|> before nio, and
■how me tho way," said tho little lady, archly. However, she followed his ad-
vice; but w« do not think her obedieuoo woa put to ao aevera a teit.

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

349

feet, whidli are
body. She ex-
Slstcr Monica
; prayers two or
e concludta she
ipeared. The in-
lier anns, and, as
•d her head, and,

'a devotion to the
describe it. She
nost trifling com-
i long as possible ;
Yet, though her
!, she never alludes
if a spiritual child,
re'at," says a spirl-
(irit of God reigns
the Spirit of God
cy governed. No
B of the Institute,
spiiitual and tem-
In her Rule, she
and suitable reme-
e physicio .1 ;" that
it them frequr My,
ly console them."*

on wM woU known in

dUcipliiio. To a

join, hor director, on

rs of Mercy. You »r«

gront nllowance* for

in order to pi'rnovera

to go up tlio oliiinney,
go u), beloro mo, »nd
»lio followed lii» ad-

vere n teat.

The Fonndress does not seem to have ever met any peisons like
the Sister St. Teresa describes, who would not go to choir to-
day because she had a headache, to-morrow because she had had
one yesterday, and the day after, lest she should get one next day.
Rev. Mother's delicate subjects were with difficulty prevailed on
to lessen their labors, and as for taking change of air, this ap-
pears to be the only point on which they ever showed reluctance
• to obey her. " Sister M. Cecilia," she writes, " is gone to Birr.
As she was to go there to play at the ceremony, I had not much
difficulty to surmount. All have strong objections to move merely
for health's sake." The spu"it of labor universal in the house gave
her great delight. She considered moderate occupation of mind
and body a remedy for many little troubles, and not unfrequently a
preventive. There was almost every variety of work to be done
at St. Mary's. Tiie more active duties fell chiefly to the robust,
and there were charges which had responsibility and but little
physical fatigue for the weakly. Other work, such as transcribing,
translating, illumination, embroidery for the altar, painting and
printing, &c., was suited to the delicate and convalescing. When
the brain was weary, the fingers could work ; and when they were
tired tlie brain was rested. " In heaven alone should the Sister of
Mercy look for rest," said the Foundress, and it was there alone
she sought it. Her children followed her example. When no
longer able " to implant Jesus Christ in the hearts of the poor,"
they transcribed or translated'what might aid in implanting Him
in Religious, His dearest poor ; or they adorned His word with
choice illuminations ; or they transposed and copied for their dis-
tant Sisters the beautiful music sung at their nuptials with Him ;

they sought to beautify with curious embroidery the vestments
used at His adorable Sacrifice. And when the pen, or the pencil^
or the needle dropped out of their thin fingers, it was known that
heaven was near, and the transition was easy from working for
Jesus to enjoying Jesus. The deaths at St. Mary's usually
amounted to several in the year, and as consumption wus usually
the messenger that summoned the servants of the poor, there were
always invalids to do the ea.sy work.

With reference to her nephews, Mother McAuley wrote in 1889 :

wtm

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

" My poor James and Robert are gone from me. I have not
seen them these seven months." She was destined soon to see
them no more on earth. Her brother, who continued a Protestant,
vainly used bis influence to make them change their religion. Ro-
bert had passed through a collegiate course of extraordinary dis-
tinction, and continued to give evidence of a high order of intellect.
With an inborn consciousness of mental superiority, he resolved
to do great things in the literary world, and did not care to meet
his aunt till be had won his spurs. Scorning patronn^ , he proudly
relied on his own genius ; but the heart-burnings of authorship,
the crushing sarcasms of the unkind, the thought that he could be
successful only by pandering to a diseased popular taste, and the
bitter feeling that there was no kind hand to foster his genius, no
kind eye to beckon him onward — that he must be misunderstood
by thoR(! who loved him, and that even his own devoted brother
could not sympathize in his secret sorrows — all preyed on a dispo-
sition morbidly sensitive, and a constitution never robust. The
trials Gerald Griffin had passed through, but not unscathed, soon
killed Robert McAuley. The fairness of the boy's angelic face
became transparent, the blue veins were distinct, and the dark eyes
glowed with a peculiar unearthly lustre. He possessed, in a high
degree, the gentleness and amiability which seemed heirlooms in
his family ; but he sometimes displayed a certain hauteur, result-
ing, perhaps, from the vexations which began so early to cross
his path. A little of this manifested in an interview with his
aunt,'he reasonably expected might have pained her ; and as she
departed for England next day, he was unable to hear from her
own lips how freely and how fully she forgave him. During her
absence, his disease, heretofore scarcely perceptible, threatened
fatal consequences. He at once wrote to apologize for his haeti
ness ; but the affectionat* reply, promptly forwarded and eagerly
expected, found him in eternity. Soothed by the consolations
which the Church lavishes on her departing children, he sank very
rapidly, his lust wish being that his aunt and the Sisters, who were
constantly at his side, might never forget him in their prayers.
Tlie thought that this, the most cherished of her nephews, had
departed without knowing how fully she forgave him, rendered this

LIFE OF CATHERINE M^AULEY.

861

ne. I inave not
led soon to see
led a Protestant,
ir religion. Ro-
straordinory dis-
)rder of intellect,
ity, he Teaolved
not care to meet
jnnpc, he proudly
Ts of authorship,
, that he could be
lar taste, and the
tcr his genius, no
be misunderstood
1 devoted brother
preyed on a dispo-
ever robust. The
)t unscathed, soon
boy's angelic face
and the dark eyes
ossessed, in a high
lemed heirlooms in
lin hauteur, result-
so early to cross
interview with his
id her ; and as she
e to hear from her
him. During her
iptible, threatened
logize for his hasti
ivarded and eagerly
y the consolations
drcn, he sank very
le Sisters, who were
m in their prayers,
f her nephews, had
him, rendered this

bereavement doubly affecting to her sensitive heart. On hearing
it she wrote, " I can only pray."

The Order of Mercy had from its commencement excited deep
interest in the Catholics of England. Among its first subjects
were, as we have already stated, two English converts. Dr.
Griffiths, Vicar Apostolic of the London district, eager to estab-
lish a convent in Bermondsey, had sent two English ladies, both
converts, to make a novitiate in Ireland, it having been previously
agreed that they should return with the Sisters destined to open
the first house of the Order in England. One of these was known
to the literary world as the authoress of Oeraldine* In a letter
dated August 15, 1831),. the Foundress says : " The English no-
vices are to be professed in Cork on the 19th inst. I must assist,
as Bishop Murphy gays it will be necessary, and that every aid
must be given to England, and every mark of interest shown."
O'Connell and other distinguished friends of the Institute urged
the Foundress to omit nothing calculated to testify the interest
Ireland took in these English foundations. They beheld, with a
high degree of national pride, English ladies of the highest rank
coming to Ireland to learn the spirit of a monastic life that exhaled
its odors beyond the cloister. It reminded them of those halcyoi.
times, when the royal dames of Eurcpe sent to the Island of
Saints for Virgins to teach the maxims of perfection in their
respective countries ; when not only the hardy monk, but the
delicate princess, nurtured in the lap of luxury, sought a home in
the monasteries of the " Isle of Destiny."

The English Sisters, whose virtues endeared them to all, bore
with them, in a special manner, the affection of the little commu-
nity from which they separated forever. One of them, a splendid
musician, sang, with a slight change of words, that exquisite melody:

" Tho' the ]wit gliinpae of Erin with sorrow I itee,
Yot wherever Thou art sliull sooin Erin to me."

• " Oeruldino : n Tale of Conscience." Tlio hr«t and Hccoud voiiiincB of this
worlc were published before llio authoress became a SiBtor of Mercy, tho tliird
after. Numerous similur worltg liavo since Ibsued from tliu press, bnt to us
Oeruldino seoniH by fur tho best book of its kind in English ; and wo think
tho literary reputation of tho distinguished wnicr had stood higher, if alio laid
ntido her eloquent pen when alio finished thU best of her workii.

-L

859

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

There were laughter and tears at recreation that eTening.
"Partings from home and friends to enter Religion are cweet sor-
rows," said the Sisters, "but partings in lleligioa are bitter sor-
rows." Dr. Blake, wishing to sec the London missionaries in
Newry, they went there, and were most courteously received by the
Poor Clares. They also visited the Convents in TuUamore, Char-
levillc, Carlow, and Limerick. The following letter, dated No-
vember n, 1839, was dispatched to St. Leo's the day before they
sailed : ''

" I need not tell you all the difiRculties I meet in getting away
from this poor old charge, which would, and will, do as well with-
out me. The six travellers leave dear Ireland to-morrow, all in
tolerable health, and more than tolerable spirits. Sister M. Clare
rejoicing. Sister M. Angustine in raptures, and their Mother all
animation. Sister M. Cecilia greatly improved in health, and Sis-
ter M. Teresa bright as a lark. I have my list of songs* ready for
the journey. We had long and most kind visitfi from our poor
Archbishop, and a cordial leave-taking, with fervent prayers for
our safe return. Nine Masses are to be offered for us to-morrow,
thank Qod. Father O'Hanlon is alarmed at the angry things
said in the English papera (about founding a Convent in London) ;
he gave me a thousand cant<ons. He and Dean Gaffuey sail with
ns to-morrow.

With her characteristic love of holy poverty, she wrote to Very
Rev. Dr. Butler, who was greatly interested in the London foun-
dation, and had kindly taken charge of the convent in coarse of

-* Mother MoAnley uxej ofYen composo and sing little songs for the amuie-
ment of the SiHtcrs, but though hIio was a most elegant reader, she sung very
badly. Uno dny, it being announced that some grout amateur musician was
•bout to enter St. Mory's, one of the Sisters asked the Foundress not to sing at
recreation that evening.

" Why not, ray heart?" askdd the Foundress.

'* Because, Kuverend Motlior, you have a very bad voice," said the Sister,
w'.th admirable simplicity,

" Indeed I have, my child."

" Well, sure you won't sing f"

''No, my heart, unless some of you press me loo much."

But being " pressed," lievercnd Mother sang with as much ease as Catalan],
hut MM \ras the only quality these two songstreitiRs had in oommon.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

808

that evening.

are cweet sor-
are bitter sor-
missionaries in
received by the
uUamore, Char-
ter, dated No-
day before they

in getting away
do as well with-
o-morrow, all in

Sister M. Clare
theu- Mother all
I health, and Sia-
songs* ready for
J from onr poor
rvent prayers for
for ns to-morrow,
the angry things

rent in London) ;
affney sail with

ic wrote to Very
the London foun-
vent in course of

longs for the aniuse-
eader, she sang very
iiate«r munioian was
indross not to sing at

CO," Bttld the 8Ut«,

luch cose M Catalanl,
I oomuion.

erection, stating that two rooms would suffice for present accom-
modation. Indeed, she never allowed an opportunity of practising
poverty to glide by unimproved, and she often said, that if this
virtue in Jesus Christ reached a height to which we dare not
aspire, yet that our poverty ought to possess one trait in common
with His, — that of being perfectly voluntary. When traveling,
she always cautioned the Sisters not to address her as Reverend
Mother, or show her any mark of distinction. This was a source
of embarrassment to them, for they could not bring themselves to
address her otherwise than with great deference. On the present
occasion, the difficulty was obviated in an amusing way. " My
traveling title," she wrote, " was ' Friend Catherine.' "

They reached London on the 19th November. Bishop Griffif hs
immediately visited them, and insisted on sharing the expense of
the undertaking ; and it was in vain they assured him they had all
that v»u.. accessary. On the Feast of the Presentation, he said
Mass in the convent, which he blessed the same day. Mother
McAuley was no great admirer of the famous Pugin style. Ber-
mondsey Convent she described as not likely to be dry for three
years. The unfinished state of the building, and the great severity
of tke weather, aided in developing her constitutional tendency to
pulmonary consumption : yet she survived this period nearly two
years. In the following passage, she criticizes somewhat severely
the structure and its famous architect :

" Mr. Pugin was determined we should lot look out of the win-
dows, they are up to the ceiling. We could not touch the glass
without standing on a chair. We have one good room finished,
with brown walls and a long table. There is too much room in
some places, and too little in others. The noviceship is very small,
the kitchen fit for a castle. It is nearly the best room in the
house."

Alluding to the convent in Staflfordshire, she is even less compli-
mentary :

" I have seldom seen such a general favorite as Mr. Pugin is in
this pat ' of England. Nothing is perfect that he does not plan
and execute. Yet I do think, though he has certainly manifested
much tas e, that some of his plans would admit of improvement

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

For example, he has brought the cella close to the chapel door,
which, I fear, will be attended with inconvenience. I (?-o not adr
mire his gilded figures of Saints. They are very coarse representa-
tions, and by no means calculated to inspire devotion."

Ou the 12th December, she gives the following description of
the first ceremony that took place in London :

"The fine church, which accommodates five thousand, was
crowded at an early hour, the seats next the sanctuary being filled
with the nobility. High Mass commenced at eleven. The organ
and choir are considered very fine. After Mass, the hymn, O
Oloriosa was chanted ; and we advanced in procession to the sanc-
tuary. Sister M. Teresa carrying an immense cross : Sisters M.
Cecilia, Clare, and Augustine, in a line, to make the most of a
few. M. Clare and her valuable assistant, with the Rx postulants,
following. The altar is the highest I ever saw, nine steps and two
platforms. M. Clare and I had to ascend and descend with each
postulant in the full view of thousands. The Bishops stood at
the top in very rich episcopal robes. Thirty-six priests were pre-
sent. The sermon, explaining the nature of the Order and the
spiritual and corporal works of mercy, was very fine. It was
preached by Very Rev. Dr. Maguire, and will be published."

Bishop Qriffiths testified the deepest interest in this first expa-
triated branch of the Order, and was on many occasions a kind
friend and wise counsellor to the Foundress.

:(}U-

le chapel door,

I (?.o not adr

larse represcnta-

on."

g description of

B thousand, was
taary being fiUed
iven. The organ
ass, the hymn,
jssion to the sano-
cross : Sisters M.
ic the most of a
the RX postalRnts,
nine steps and two
descend with each
Bishops stood at
X priests were pre-
;he Order and the
very fine. It was
)e published."

in this first expar
ly occasions a kind

y-^(^.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

General government.— Lady Barbara Eyre.— Her Reception.— The Court Fri*
sear.— Au amasing incident. — Oratitado of Ihe Foundress. — Letters.

rpHE system of general government which works so well in many
X congregations, has, like all things here below, its advantages
and its disadvantages ; and in Rev. Mother's judgment the latter
would surpass the former in an institute such as she designed.
Tliis form was established to some extent among the Irish Sisters
of Charity, and many suppose this to be the cause why this admirable
society has spread so little outside the capital. The idea of gene-
ral goveriiment among female Religious is uncongenial in Ireland.
In a charitable institution the pecuniary relations of branch houses
with the mother house are liable to be misunderstood or misrepre-
eentv d r besides, the necessity of traveling must be obviated as
much as possible, that the time and expense it costs may be ap-
plied to more useful purposes. The system in use in the Order,
the Foundress established only after much prayer, lengthened con-
sultation with the most eminent ecclesiastics in Ireland, and frequent
deliberations with her Sisters. It had been tested with beneficial
results for sixty years previous by the Ursuline and Presentation
Orders ; nor could she see any inconvenience arising from it which
might not also arise from any other system whose agents are human
beings.*
When ladies of rank and fortune desire to devote themselves to

*> If a Sister's liealth seemed lilcely to bo benefited by a change of air, the
Foundress alwnyg granted the cliange ; but she would not hear of Kctigloua
mnkiiig excursions for recreation. She thought if cloistered Sisters were
obliged to refrain fi-om these, so ought uncloistered— indeed, they C':ild not be
thought of, the summer vacation being only about two weeks, ton days of
which were spent in retreat, and the schools being the only one of taeir dutiee
ever suspended.

356

Lli-'E OP CATHERINE MCAULBT.

the poor, their bishops and relatives do not always wish them t >
leave their respective dioceses. I; a wealthy lady desires to endow
a convent in a certain district, and to devote herself to those who,
as tenants or dependants, have a special claim on her, the Order
of Mercy meets these emergencies, which an Order v'ih a dlEferent
system of government could not do without infringing on its rules.
The Sisters are subjec t to the bishop of the diocese in which
each convent is located, whose business it is to enforce the existing
rules and observances, but who cannot impose ariy thing further.
If, through sickness or any other cause, assistance be required in a
young House, llic convent from which it filiated is obliged to at-
tend to this, if older Houses cannot lend a Sister or two. Now, if
Mother McAuley had established general government, she would
be ol>Iiged to relinquish many fine establishments, and, conse-
quently, many great opportunities of relieving and assisting tie
poor. Fur instance, when Miss Hardman, of Birmingham, mani-
fested a vocation to the Order, her father built and endowed a
convent in that town, on condition that his daughter might bo
Bent with the Si.s(ers destined for that Foundation, when her novi-
tiate was completed. Similar arrangements were made for Miss
Gibson of Lancashire, Miss Archibald of Elphin, Mrs. Burke of
Kinsali , etc. Motuer McAulcy, who used every lawful means,
natural as well as supernatural, for furthering her many benevolent
projects, delighted to send Sisters to the neighborhood of their
rich relatives, knowing tha? the latter, under such circumstances,
would be more ready to aid and patronize works beneficial to the
poor. Many, if not a majority, of the Convents of Mercy, were
founded by ladies who, in their native places, desired to assist the
poor, or wli wished to aid them in districts where their miserable
condition excited special compassion. Thus, a few years ago, Miss
Fanny Murphy, a lady singularly gifted by nature and grace (niece
to the late Bishop of Cork), erected and endowed a convent in
Bantry, for the relief uf the numerous poor of that town ; and,
though her charity received u speedy recompense, the poor people
among whom she sleeps will, for ages to come, bless her memory.

Among the liable postulants who entered the Bermondscy Con-
vent was the L idy Barbara Eyre, daughter of the late Earl of

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

887

^3 wish them to
,esires to endow
f to those who,
her, the Order
vlth a diEferent
ing on its .rules,
iliocese in which
brcc the existing
;.y thing further,
be required m a
is obliged to at-
or two. Now, if
iimcnt, she would
snts, and, conse-
and assisting tl e
Jirroingham, maui-
It and endowed a
aughter might bo
on, when her novi-
;re wade for Miss
lin, Mrs. Burke of
ery lawful means,
r many benevolent
hborhood of theur
ucb circumstances,
beneficial to the
._ of Mercy, were
esired to assist the
their miserable
years ago. Miss
and grace (niece
iwcd a convent in
that town ; and,
the poor people
iless her memory.
Bermondsey Con-
the late Earl of

Newbnrgh. Her ladyship's two maids, who entered at the same
time as Lay Sisters, could not refrain from addressing their former
mistre.«s as " my lady." The wise Foundress, for a time, winked
at this iiiuovation in conventual etiquette ; but the lad\ herself,
soon perceiving the inconvenience of it, ordered them not to ad-
dress her iipjain by her hereditary title. Some of the Sisters were
of opinion that Sister Barbara ought to be treated just like any
one else ; but this, Reverend Mother would consider " unjustly
just." She was too wise to treat a noble lady, no longer young,
and who had for years enjoyed her own separate establishment,
with as little consideratcness as she would evitu.i' towards a girl
in her teens, who stepped from the schoolroom to the novitiate,
and had always been ruled by others. At first, she allowed a
Sister to arrange Lady Barbara's cell, and then showed her the
necessity of learning to wait on herself, as Si.sters of Mere} \cept
when incapacitated by ilhiess, are obliged to be their own servants.
She also handed the noble postulant her letters unopened, and,
after a while, explained the regulations on that head, in which her
ladyship at once acquiesced. Mother McAuley wrote thus of her:
" Lady Barbara has commenced her novitiate in the most edifying
manner — quite a model of humility and obedience."

Reverend Mother believed that much good might be accom-
plished on new foundations by one or two public ceremouies ; hence
she usually took with her a Sister whose probation was near its
close, and invited all the clergy and persons t note in the neigh-
borhood to the reception, or profession. ' People will learn the
objects of the Order from . the sermon," she said ; " we may thus
get good subjects who otherwise would not think of us, the poor
w ill gain new friends, and we shall have more means of assisting
tlicm." As may be seen by her letters, she ared uv pains of
rendering t hese ceremonies solemn and interesting. The dress, the
music, the dejeuner, all shared her attention. In those days of
weary mail-coach travel, she sent her best musitrans to aid the
choirs of distant convents, and often went hcrsf't, t great incon-
venience. Now, the Newburgh family, wishing to give unusual
iclat to Lady Barbara's " clothing," arranged that the postulante
was to be dressed in full court costume; that special seats were to

\tnmm^

35S

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCatTLEY.

be raised in Bcnnondacy Church for noble & .J otherwise distin-
guished guests; tlie first sacred orator of the day euiisted for the
sermon; and the music under the direction of the mt>8t efficient
conductor. Two hundred poor childrnu, whom they gracefully
sought this opportunity ov clothing, wiro to be present in a uni-
form of brown cashmere, white aprons, and tippets. This was the
only arrangement that pleased Reverend Mother. .She thought it
was very well to seek the patronage of th(j noble, for ihe sake of
the poor, but she felt that it might be purchased ot less evpense : nor
did she care to see as much thrown away on one flourish of this
kind as would support a hundred poor people for half a year. One
part of the proceeding amused, while it annoyed her more than the
rest ; it was, that the services of her British Majesty's hair-
dresser were deemed necessary in arranging the locks of the novice-
elect. This personage arrived on the appointed morning, accom-
panied by another gentlem&n of the same profession, almost equally
famous for his decorative genius. Monsieur Truffette, a dapper
little man, redolent of attar of roses, and dressed in the latest Par
risian style, seated himself on the sofa, dividing his attention be-
tween the ceiling and the morning paper, casting an occasional
glance of sublime indifference at the labors of his meek-looking and
most deferential partner, who was arranging the lady's tre-sses.
Conscious of his own importance, and aware that he was confer-
ring a lasting favor on the Newburgh family, a placid smile occa-
sionally lit up his serene countenance. When " Number Two"
had exhausted his skill. Monsieur condescended to rise and direct
his orbs towards the elaborately adorned, head ; a smile of appro-
val parted his lips, and he amazed the assistant by condescending
to touch a small feather which bent about a quarter of an inch in
the wrong direction. The quartette now resumed the perpendicu-
lar. Reverend Mother gazed in silent wonderment, not knowing
what wtis to come next. Her ladyship thanked Monsieur for his
prompf itadc in waiting on her, who in reply assured " my lady"
that, were it possible, he would do as much for any member of her
noble house. After bowing first to opposites, and then diagonal-
ly, " the world" went out of the Convent, and a carriage bore
Mkssiettrs les/riseurs to a less peuiteutial atmosphere.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

859

herwisc distln-
euHsted for the
; most efficient
they gracefully
iresent in a «ni*
This was the
She thought it
for the Bake of
jas cvponae : nor
flourish of this
jalfayear. One
er more than the
Majesty's hair-
cks of the novice-
morning, accom-
on, almost equally
ruffette, a dapper
I in the latest Par
his attention bo-
ng an occasional
meek-looking and
he lady's tresses,
at he was confer-
placid smile occar
1 "Number Two"
to rise and direct
a smile of appro-
by condescending
rter of an inch in
ed the perpendicu-
ment, not knowing
„ Monsieur for hia
ssnred "my lady"
any member of her
and then diagonal-
a carriage bore
iphere.

" My dear," said the Foundress, innocently, " was it necessary to
pay that person twenty-fire guineas for sitting on the sofa and
reading the newspaper ?" '* Oh, Mother," replied her ladyship, " he
merely oversees. He would lose caste if he decorated any huad
but the Queen's. I feel grateful to him for coming; indeed, I
hardly expected him to come here."

Lady Barbara could give plausible reasons for court etiquette,
but all the logic from Aristotle to Locke could not convince the
Foundress of the expediency of employing her Majesty's hair-
dresser in a Convent. However, she made no farther allusion to it.

As this lady was the first of the rank of an earl's daughter that
had entered a Convent in England for centuries, it was thought
that some privileges she seemed to require, and which several Or
ders would yield to a gentlewoman of less rank, would be readily
conceded. Yet this was not the case. The following passage oc-
curs in a letter dated May, 1841 :

"Lady Barbara, now Sister M. de Sales, is professed at last, an
humble Sister of Mercy. She found it hard to relinquish all, bat
no other terms would be agreed to." The noble lady desired to
reserve a private pension out of her vast fortune, but on matters
concerning the vow of poverty. Reverend Mother was inflexible j
and when Sister M. de Sales saw this, she offered to submit to any
alternative rather than leave the Institute. She survived her pro-
fession eight years, dying in 1849.

A new Gothic building, however picturesque, is not a very com-
fortable abode in December and January. To the Foundress, who
always chose for herself the worst of every thing, London proved
very unhealthy. She coughed continually during the nights, and the
inflammatory attacks to which she was a martyr, greatly increased
in violence and frequency. On the thurtieth of January she wrote
from St. Mary's : " I have been confined to bed since my return;
not down till yesterday. I was obliged to have a physician.
Then my old mouth complaint kept me on infants' diet for eleven
days." For many years she had been subject to a putrid sore
month, and while it l&sted, bread and water, with a little milk, used
to be her only food. As these attacks were very frequent, " in-
fants' diet" was her ordmary food. , .

tSSmmiSxiumirf^siaiimmm

860

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

■ Speaking of Sister M. Clare, late Superior- of St. Marie's of the
Isle, whom Kh'i loaned to Bermondsey, she writes :

" My poor Sister Clare is Superior in London till the twentieth
of August next. They will be anxious to keep her there, if Bishop
Murphy consents. The Bishop of London is greatly pleased with
her : he said he never saw so much maturity in so young a person,
and that she had solid judgment in her countenance. She is,
thank God, perfectly indiflferent as to where or how she shall be."

Almost immediately after her /eturn. Rev. Mother lost one of
the very few priests who would venture openly to disagree
with Dr. Meyler on the chaplaincy question. She thus speaks of
her loss :

"I have just heard of Very Rev. Dr. Coleman's death, and,
indeed, I have reason to be heartily sorry. Bishop Blake having
mentioned to him how much I was afflicted, with regard to the
arrangements making us to the chaplaincy, though he was exceed-
ing weak and the weather most severe, he came here several times,
went to Dr. Meyler, and used all the means in his power to hnve
it as we wished. When he could not succeed, he wrote me such a
kind, fatherly note ; I can never forget his great tenderness and
Christian manner of acting. He desired that we should regard
him as a paTticHla.r friend, and immediately he is called away. His
death was quite sudden. May Qod receive him into the glory of
heaven 1"

li will bo noticed that when any person strove to assist Mother
McAuley, she was equally grateful, whether success followed the
effort or not. In the letter from which we make the ab.'^ve extract,
she declares herself to be " perplexed and weary, and out of con-
ceit with everything." Her last new branch could scarce be called
a solace, for she writes — " Booterstown is an additional weight on
my mind. I have endless anxiety there, and no animating cir-
cnmstance, except the hope that God may receive some small
portion of glory from the assistance given to his poor."

Whatever Mother McAuley writes, her intense devotion to the
poor always appears. Be it a letter, or a rule,* or an instruction,

* *' Ah tlio Sisters of tliis Iimtituto must employ & great part of their timeiit-
itvucting the poor," <&c., Kule, Clap. IX. Sec. 1. "The Sistsrs shnll alwtyi

XIFE OF OATHEJHNE MCAULET,

861

. Marie's of ibe

ill the twentieth
there, if Bishop
itiy pleased with
I young a person,
,enance. She is,
,w she shall be."
[other lost one of
enly to disagree
he thus speaks of

•man's death, and,
shop Blake having
with regard to the
ngh he was exceed-
here several times,
his power to hftve
he wrote me such a
reat tenderness and
we should regard
called away. His
into the glory of

,ve to assist Mother
success followed the
Le the abrve extract,

-,ry, and out of con-
)uld scarce be called
idditional weight on
d no animating cir-
receive some smaU

is poor."

ease devotion to the
* or an instruction,

.tat part of their tinte in-
The BiBtws BhMl »lw»y»

the poor are never absent. Thongh she embraced the whole hih
man race in that heart of hers, which " overflowed with the charity
of Jesus," yet its fondest throbbings were for His more special
representatives, and she seems to have thought that the angels
themselves love better to guard the poor than the rich, fully sub-
scribing to this sweet sentiment of a " sister poet :"

" The poor are the some us the rich to them.
Or, if tliere's a change, 'tis only
That soinctimcs the angels thinl< more of them,
They arc so unloved and lonely."

Her charity to the sick was far from being confined to the Sis-
ters. The poor servant that entered the House of Mercy worn
with thankless toil, and the orphan picked up in a dingy alley,
found in her a fond mother. For natural as well as spiritual evils,
she was all charity, and she could not be wearied in well-doing.
But this is only what we should expect of her. A chivalrous
monarch once said : " If honor be banished from all other places,
it ought to find a home in the breasts of kings." With greater
reaso 1 might we expect that if charity were banished from the
hearts of all others, it ought to find a refuge in the heart of a Sis-
ter of Mercy. " If an action has a hundred faces, always look at
the best of them," said the gentle Saint of Geneva. This was
Mother McAuley's practice. She is ever ready to console, to make
extraordinary allowances for the shortcomings of poor human na-
ture ; but to reprove or inflict a penance seemed almost impossible
to the sweet spirit that would scarcely believe any one wilfully
crr"d. When a fault was too manifest to be dissembled, compas-
sion was the feeling it excited within her, and this, she believed
with St. Bernard, to be the most necessary quality for those who
are obliged to correct others. " Without it," says he, " wo should
shatter the strong ships ot Tbarsis, break the reed already bruised,

have the warmext devotion to the Mother of God, that . , . under her pow-
erful protection they may be enabled to implant Jmu Christ iv tht htatt* f/ tli4
poor whom thry art charged to iuttrvct," Rule XIII. 1. • The Bisters of tliis
ln»tituto being continnully employed in the tpiritual i V'l corporal workt tjf
mtrcy," Rule XX. 1. " As the Sisters of this lustitut:^ a •« dtvottd to thtpoor,"
liulo X., &c., &o. , , ... .„

362

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

extinguish the spark which still causes the flax to smoke, and
crush out whatever little good may remain in our pooi', erring fel-
low-creature." Rev. Mother often expatiated on the description
the prophet had given of our Lord : " The bruised reed He shall
not break, and the smoking flax He shall not extinguish He shall
not be sad or troublesome ;" telling the Sisters to be constantly
striving to imitate Him, so that whoever conversed with them
might be reminded of some passage in His life ; but above and be-
fore all things, she desired that they should everywhere diffuse " the
sweetness of Jesus," that by their very looks, no less than their
words, they might attract His erring children to His friendship and
love. But the poor were never absent from her thoughts. " God
knows," she wrote, " that I would rather be col<i and hungry thnn that
His poor in Kiugstown or elsewhere, should be deprived of any conso-
lai'on in my power to bestow." And corporal alms seemed small in
lier eyes, if unaccompanied by kindness, sympathy, and spiritual alms.
A priest once complained that it would be easier to procure an in-
terview with the Pfne than with Miss McAuley ; but this was not
the experience of the i lor, to whose tales of woe she listened till
sleep overpowered her, and when a Sister roused her, she would
not still move from her little room till she heard and consoled
every poor creature that asked her sympathy. To the poor she
was ever accessible, and the more so as she knew that poverty and
crime are treated in the same manner under the British govern-
ment ; or rather, the latter has the advantage, the prisons for
criminals being in every respect more comfortable than the prisons
for the poor. She could not bear to mention the poor-house to the
destitute, and she shuddered at the idea of mixing promiscuously
the pious, decent poor, with the vagrants and immoral persons uo-
avoidably admitted to such institutions as poor-houses,

" Love one another as I have 'oved you." Political economy
could never reach this. It can indeed lock up the poor, like crim-
inals, and feed and clothe them worse than murderers, but it will
not be found to go much further. But Christians, who " ought to
die for the brethren," how can they " banish suffering, that its
agonies may not disturb thein, or subject poverty to perpetual in-
carceration, that they may not oc offended by its rags ?" The

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

863

X to smoke, and
r poov, erring fel-
)a the description
ed reed He shall
inguish He shall
) to be constantly
iversed with them
but above and be-
where diffuse " the
no less than their
I His friendship and
• thoughts. " God
nd hungry thnn that
jprived of any conso-
lims seemed small in
y, and spiritual alms,
er to procure an in-
ly ; but this was not
ffoe she listened till
luscd her, she would
heard and consoled
To the poor she
[ew that poverty and
the British govcrn-
|agc, the prisons for
Lie than the prisons
the poor-house to the
liixing promiscuously
immoral persons un-
Ir-houses.

Political economy
the poor, like crim-
.mrderers, but it will
lians, who " ought to
[sh suffering, that its
lerty to perpetual iu-
by its rags?" Tlie

Foundress, with her intense love of the poor, never sat down to a
meal without thinking of their necessities, nor did she think any
one had a vocation to her Institute whose heart was not " Cli'xi
with the tenderest pity and charity for the poor," as she says in
her Rule. The great distress that prevailed at diflferent periods of
her life sorely grieved her, when she thought how very little she
could do to relieve it. The princely revenues which should have
relieved the pooi, were in the hands of the " Establishment,'' and
it is notorious that though some of its dignitaries used the crow-
bar* more than the crozier, none of them ever thought of '* dying
for the brethren." " The workhouses have not lessened our num-
bers," she wrote in 1840, " and to speak of the poor-house to any
of our poor inmates is a kind of condemnation. There is such a
mixture of immoral persons unavoidably admitted, that the reduced
orderly persons cannot bear to go there,"

The gratitude of the Foundress towards those who aided her to
assist the poor was great and constant. Indeed, though she was
never known to resent an mjury, she never couid forget the smallest
kindness shown herself or the Sisters, or, through them, to the
poor. Centuries ago Seneca, in his book On Benefits, reiterated
what was even then an old complaint about the ingratitude of
man ; yet we believe that those who know how to confer favors
will find gratitude on the part of recipients to be the rule rather
than the exception. Some confer a favor to-day and inQict an in-
jury to-morrow, yet are absurd enough to expect all gratitude and
no resentment from the receiver of a round of benefits and insults.
Some " do nothing more than is appointed them," and yet imagine
that the mere fulfilling of their obligations entitles them to the
lasting gratitude of all with whom they come in contact. There
are, to be sure, terrific instances of real ingratitude recorded in hia-
tory. A, tyrannical king orders the arrest of a dying eccleeLstic,
who, with keen remorse and bitter eloquence, regrets that ho had
served that monarch far better than he had served his God. The
profound philosopher, Bacon, uses his talent to vilify the memory

• For inatuuoe, Dr. Plunkctt, wlioao cniidnot towards Iiih poor tcnonts would
disgrace a Turk, but is porfoctly iuoomproliensiblo in any peraoa who reads the
Bible, much less n man whom the law dubs au Arohblthop.

LIFE OF CATHERIITE MOAULET.

of his munificent benefactor, the unfortunate Essex. An English
princess, whose memory is ptili revered in her country, calumniates
and deserts the unhappy monarch in whom she, at least, found an
indulgent father and a lenient sovereign. But in common, every-
ony life, we do believe that those who know how to confer beneGta
without, as the phrase is, " taking the good out of them," will often
be surprised to find how capable the most boorish and stolid are of
appreciating small favors, and to such as complain of Ingratitude,
they will be able to answer in those lines which Fabei' well calls
" exquisite :"

" I've heard of heftrts unkind, kind deeds

Wltli coldnesB still returning: '"

Alaa ! Uu ^jTratitudo of men
Hath oflcucr left me mourning."

Persons peculiarly capable of appreciating kindness are generally
peculiarly sensitive to unkindness ; but of the latter quality, Rev-
erend Mother never gave any exterior evidence. Gratitude, in the
highest degree, had a home iu her beautiful soul. The least favor
done her was never forgotten ; the smallest kindness shown her
children was a title to her friendship. If any one aids her Insti-
tute, he is forthwith esteemed a benefactor ; every Sister must
learn to revere his name ; whatever favor he asks must be granted ;
and, while there is a convent of her Order on tarth, he must be
publicly prayed for. Bishop Blake was, perhaps, the chief among
her benefactors : he can, therefore, command her and her Insti-
tute ; ho may send to St. Mary's as many portionless ladies as he
chooses ; and, do matter liow the exchequer stands, no one recom-
mended by the Bishop of Dromorc will ever be dismissed for want
of funds. The same prolate expresses a wish to sec the English
Bisters, and she immediately starts with them for the north, though

the had Kcarcely any business in Newry but to oblige him, and had
nst boon complaining that she " hud got a surfeit of travelling in
icr old days." Very Rev. James Maher hud shown some kindness
the Slaters in Garlow. Sho wutcs repeatedly to thank hira;
and, when ho comes to St. Mary's, sho prepares his meals hcnelf,
at the risk of injuring her broken arm. If any person, in the re-
mi test coruer of the four proviuces, doco a favor to the Sisters of

,1. 1 W . I i Y

!X. An Bnglisb
ntry, calumniates
it least, found au
1 common, everj-
to confer benefits
f them," will jften
1 and stolid are of
lin of ingratitude,
h Fabei' well callB

eds

odness are generally
latter quality, R«t-
Gratitude, in the
ul. The least favor
[kindness shown her
y one aids her Insti-
; every Sister must
ks must be granted;
)n tarth, he must be
ips, the chief among
her and her Insti-
rtionless ladies as he
tands, no one recom-
)e dismissed for want
„ to sec the English
for the north, though
oblige him, and had
irfcit of travelling in
shown some kindness
itedly to thank him ;
ires his meals hcvFolf,
nuy person, In the re-
[avor to the Sisters of

LIFE OP CA'jKEKINE MCAULET.

86ft

Mercy, or even speaks kindly of their Institute, it mnst be noted
in the Annals, and all tho future generations cf the Order must
testify gratitude by daily prayers for the benefactor* But,
when injuries were inflicted on her or hers, even by those to
whom she had shown substantial kin( ss, she never evinced the
least resentment. She was not below revenge — and revenge is a
common thing, even among people who call themselves good — the
law of retaliation is the most universal of all laws ; but she was
far above revenge, for she strove to imitate Ilm who excused and
prayed for His murderers. If her enemy was hungry, she gave
him to eat ; if thirsty, she gave him to drink ; if she could do
nothing else, she was ever ready to exclaim, " Father, forgive
them !" These were the coals of fire she heaped on the heads of
such as misunderstanding or resentment had made her enemies.
Whatever she did she never looked for thanks ; and she frequently
reminded the Sisters that tho poor, ignorant creatures whom they
assisted, often, and reasonably, as it seems to them, think that
much more ought to be done for them ; and, if they show ingrati-
tude, they must uot be blamed, since He whom we profess to serve
in them will, on the judgment-day, reward a cup of cold water
given in His name. "It is for Him we serve them, uot for
thanks," she would say. Perhaps she thouclit gratitude too great
a payment for benefits ; for certainly, it comes nearest of nil things

* In several of hor letters bIio mentions tlie kimlneRscs done to tlio Order in
vnrious plnccH, und seema I'enrful lexl the SititerH bIiouM furget tliem, or not ii|>-
prccinto them as they de»ervo, or toko them as a matter of course, nnd neglect
to/t4 iind ihoiv grKliltulo for them. Tliis was pnrtioulnrly the case when prlcBts
were the benefactors, for Hha regarded them not only na the instruments of the
grentCRt blessings to nil ChriBtians, but also as protectors to tho Institute, with-
out wliOBO patronage nnd nssistnnco it could accomplish but little. Ilenoo, she
taught the Sisters to regard it not as n task, but as a privilege, to bo able to aid
them in any way. Tho deference nnd uffoction nhe evinced towards ecclesias-
tics often xurprised the Sinters. It nil came of her fnith, and hor high upprcoi-
ation of the grcnt dignity of tho " Anointed of the Lord." If, when engaged
witli the higliest personngcs of the tliree kingdoms, ns she ofti'n wns, she was
informed tliat a priest called, no nuitter liow young or how olifcuie lie might
he, even U' he only cnlled to pny a visit of coiemony, she instantly lell lier oom-
pHiiy to icocive him. " rricstB," she would say, "are tho m>..tt speeial rcpre-
BentftilvuB of our Lord ; and if wo do not treat them as suoh— wo who havu
boon 80 well instructed us to their exulted ofllco— who will I"

i^aniMnnM**

866

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

to cancel the greatest obligations, and repay the benefactor a thon-
Bandfold, and she did not desire to receive so large a re'mrd in this

world.

But, if she were grateful to man, as the channel of many favors
to her,' much more was she grateful to God, the Adorable Source
whence every good proceeds. Gratitude to God for being made
the instrument of many blessings to her suffering fellow-creatures,
is the chief sentiment which her wonderful succrss excited within
her. And though her friend, the venerable Archdeacon of Lint
erick, describes her as having become, during the last years of her
life, " the centre of attraction to the high and titled of the three
kingdom's," yet, so far as can be judged from her acts, her conver-
sations, and her letters, she does not seem to have experien.jed a
single emotion of vainglory, or even of self-complacency. On
hearing of the prosperity of the Limerick Convent, she writeu to
the Superioress :

" God grant you lively gratitude and profound humility. Then,
indeed, you will be a child of Benediction. '

Gratitude and humility for being permitted to assist Jesus
Christ in His suffering members, are the principal scntimenta
wlich she thought success ought to awaken in the heart^i of her
children.

lY.

benefactor a thoo-
e a re'vard in this

»el of many favors
} Adorable Source
od for being made
ig fellow-creatures,
!rs8 excited withiu
•chdeacon of Lint
e last years of her
titled of the three
3r acts, her conver-
have experienced a
complacency. On
nvent, she writC'J to

id humility. Then,

ted to assist Jesus
)nncipal acntiments
the hearti of her

CHAPTER XXXV.

Oalwny.— "A Becoud Mary Teresa."— The English Sisters.— The Laundry. —
Dr. 6ri£Stli8 entreats more aid for Bermondsoy. — Reception of the Sistera for
the Birrainf^ham Foundation.— Eeception in Gnlwav.— Pifflcultiex. — Very
Kev. Peter Daly.

THE Institute was now firmly established in Leinster and Mun-
ster ; the London house was flourishing. The next successful
applicant for a foundation was Right Rev. Bishop Browne, better
known as " th '^ove of Elpbia," who commissioned Very Rev,
Mr. Daly to negotiate the business, and informed the Foundress
that there were several ladies in his diocese awaking the opening
of the Qahvay convent, to devote themselves to God and the poor
as Sisters of Mercy.

Few cities in Ireland are better known out of it than the an-
cient, half-Spanish-looking Galway, which boldly faces the Atlan-
tic, and seems to invite to its cnpacions harbor the ships of many
a nation. Among its primitive-looking inhabitants, fiery black
eyes and rich brown complexions still verify the opinion that, when
tlie ships of Lisbon and Cadiz thronged its port, they left a por-
tion of their crews bchmd. One advantage which these hardy
westerners quietly arrogate to themselves is, that Connaught in
general, and Galway in particular, can boast of the best blood in
Ireland. Seeing that we are all descended in a direct line from
Adam, it is unnecessary to dispute the cl' ims of " the Tribes,"
which, to say the truth, have a sort of foundation. In times of
persecution, the cities of Connaught were often cities of refuge for
other parts of Ireland ; and the Catholic faith flourished in them
when it seemed extinct in more important places. Besides, Crom-
well, ill Ills more merciful moods, used to allow " innocent Papists"
the privilege of choosing between — the lower regions and Oon-

;

«■

868

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCADLET.

naught ; and thus, through the kindness or the policy of the amia-
ble " Protector," who " liked the sport" of sliughtering women
and children, some of the old historic families of Ireland were
saved from utter extinction by migrating westwr^rd. The estated
gentlemen of Connaught are generally Catholics, while in other
parts of Ireland this ckss is, to a great ext-jnt, represented by
Protestants of some denomination or other. These particulars
will account for the "Galway consequence" which gave the
Foundress some trouble, and for which, with her usual sagacity,
she made ample allowance. " Every place has its peculiarities,"
said she, " and to these we must concede as much as we possibly
can." The Superior she appointed for the Galway house was of a
high family, though not a very rich one ; but " gentle blood" was
the main point here. Yet, to be candid, the vulgar aristocracy of
wealth was more rare in the " City of the Tribes." than the aris-
tocracy of birth or intellect. There were already six Convents in
Galway ; it would not be easy to maintain a seventh, which, as
professing to perform the works of Mercy, required some public
support. Reverend Mother undertook the business with her usual
reliance on Divine Providence, and the event more than jastified
her expectations.

In May, 1840, this foundation set out, accompanied by Very
Rev. Father O'Hanlon. The Carmelites of Loughrea extended
their hospitality to the travellers, and with them they rested one
night. The Priory of Loughrea is the only one in Ireland in which
the succession of Priors was never interrupted. In the darkest
days of persecution, the Carmelite Fathers — whose ranks were most-
ly recuited from Spanish novitiates, by Irish members returning to
their native land ready for martyrdom — contrived to live on, in
dens and caverns, till peace came, when they emerged from their
obscurity. This is, we believe, the only monastic institution in
Ireland whose origin dates beyond the Ilotbrraation, or, at least,
which escaped temporary suppression. TbiJ Carmelite Nuns of
Loughrea are, however, of more recent establishment. It was not
wonderful that Father O'Hanlon glowed with enthusiasm while
visiting this sacred spot, so many centuries in possession of Coi -
fessors of his illustrious Ordef, who chose to starve and die in

[niiri'i THiiilM

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULEY.

869

olicy of the amia-
ughtering womea

of Ireland were
,rd. The estated
cs, while in other
nt, represented by
These particulars

which gave the
er usual sagacity,

its peculiarities,"
ach as we possibly
my house was of a
' gentle blood" was
Igar aristocracy of
!S.'» than the aris-
dy six Convents in

seventh, which, as
juired some public
ness with her usual
nore than justified

ompanied by Very
oughrea extended
m they rested one
in Ireland in which
In the darkest
se ranks were most-
umbers returning to
ived to live on, in
merged from their
astic institution in
lation, or, at least,
Carmelite Nuns of

incnt. It was not
enthusiasm while

jossession of Coj -
starve and die in

crypts and caves rather than quit the hallowed ruins of their an-
cient monastery.

In Gahvay Mother McAuley met her "dear friend, Fanny
Tighe," but we have already alluded to this meeting.

The following letters from Galway contain '•^any varieties of
news :

" I was so hurried and so cross preparing for this foundation,
that I was obliged to put off writing to you. Five English sis-
ters entering — the bazaar — my poor little sister Mary carried down
from her bed, to be removed to Booterstown — Sister M. Teresa
very ill — so much in every direction to press upon my miud, that I
became quite weary. Sister M. Josejhine sent me some turkey-
eggs, with a note, saying : ' I send you some of your favorite eggs.'
I do not remember ever speaking about them ; but of course I
did ; and it was so very kind of her to keep it in remembrance, that
I wrote a few lines to thank her, but so badly, that it was distress-
ing to me to forward them. If possible, I would have written to
your poor brother's widow, but in real truth I was not able. I
trust God will protect his family, and extend to him that mercy in
which he delights.

" We like the Bishop here very much. "We have a very large
house not yet in conventual order. Sisters are entering sooner
than I expected ; we have now four postulants. One, a very nice
person, somewhat stricken in years — good means, and great Galway
consequence. Miss Joyce is coming, a sweet little creature, very
pretty, about twenty. Her papa and mamma are making a tour ;
but she could not be induced to g'^. I scarcely know what I am
writing, with the noise of carpenters and painters. You may be
sure patronage is greatly divided here— each house has its party —
Presentation, Dominican, Augustiniai, Franciscan, Ursulines, and
now, Sisters of Mercy. The Ursulinos are said to enjoy most of
episcopal patronage, but Bishoo Brc>wne has love and charity
enough for thousands, and embraces all with genuine paternal care
and apostolic aflfection.

" I am now in the kitchen, the room 1 ^as in is being painted.
I feel the turf smoke I This is a pious Catholic tovin. There
would be fifteeu in the convent in six mouths, if three hundred

16*

F**"!*"

■ JETOi ii .

^immmm

Jtm

370

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

wm i

pounds could be accepted ; but the poor funds will not admit of
this. Three of our candidates have merely enough- -another has
forty-seven pounds a year, and five hundred to bequeath, — this
latter has fully arrived at the eleventh hour. Our Order is greatly
liked ; but there is really no money to spare among the people. A
very nice person, daughter to an estated gentleman, is coming ;
and with all the influence of Bishop and priests — and they possess
much — more than five hundred pounds cannot ^e obtained — he
would not give six. The generality of respectable inhabitants,
could not, we are assured, give more.

" The Bishop is all sweetness to every one. Very llev. Mr. Daly
is guardian. He says he docs not see any more who could bring
what is absolutely required, five or six hundred pounds.

" I feel very much for your poor sister-in-law ; but I should fear
much your taking her child. These engagements were never de-
signed for our state : and whatever is contrary to it, or not abso-
lutely belonging to it, will ever create agitation of mind. God
will assist such a good mother — not one of her children will be
lost. The English Catholics are rich. It is only in Ireland pros-
elytism of that nature need be dreaded.

" Our English Sisters are greatly liked. One, Miss Beckett, a
convert of high family, is quite equal to Sister M. Clare in arts,
sciences, languages, &c. It is very animating to see six persons
most happily circumstanced, leave their friends and country to
enter on a mission so contrary to natural inclinations ; but the fire
which Christ came to cast upon earth is kindling very fast.

" We just got a sweet postulant, a second Mary Teresa Mo-
Auley in look and manner. Her family are going to travel ; and
though she would have seen the Pope and all the splendors of the
Eternal City, she entreated to be left at home, that she might join
ns as soon as possible. Our Bishop could not be kinder ; a!id ns
for Father Daly, we all love him. He is delighted with being con-
stantly called on, and proud of the new Sisters. He says " the
root has struck, and he feels that it will flourish."

After two months' stay in Galway, Reverend Mother returned
to St. Mary's, having left the new foundation " with every pros-
pect of success." In the spring of 1840, six English ladies entered

ET.

will not admit of
ongh- -another has
to beqneath, — this
)ur Order is greatly
long the people. A
tleman, is coming ;
s— aud they possess
Dt 'le obtained — ^he
Kjctable inhabitants,

Very llcv. Mr. Daly
ji-e who could bring
i pounds.

w ; but I should fear
lents were never de-
ry to it, or not abao-
ation of mind. God
f her children will be
only in Ireland pros-

Dne, Miss Beckett, a
ter M. Clare in arts,
ig to see six persons
iends and country to
inatious ; but the fire
ling very fast.
)nd Mary Teresa Mo-
going to travel ; and
I the splendors of the
le, that she might join
ot be kinder ; and as
lighted with being con-
isters. He says " the
rish."

rend Mother returned
tion " with every pros-
English ladies entered

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET,

to make a novitiate pn^vious to opening the Institute in Birming-
ham. Mother McAnley thus comprehensively glances at them :

"The English Sisters are most interesting, and manifest, so far,
every mark of a true vocation to the Institute. They arc so play

ful, that they afford amusement to all at recreation. Miss E ,

who came while I was in Galway, is a sweet creature, quite re-
fined, simple, and interesting. Sister Marianne, a prime pet with
Mother Cecilia (though this is not to be seen by every eye), is very
gentle, and all that is desirable. Sister Juliana is quite satisfac-
tory — all her doubts and fears have passed away. Sister Anna is
very amiable, though, from a natural disposition to silence, not so
pleasing as the others. Sister Lucy greatly improved — not nearly
so much of the wild English girl. Their Mother, M. Cecilia, is in
better spirits than ever I saw her ; her laugh at recreation is fully
equal to our dear little Catherine's. It seems so extraordinary to
find no vacant seat in the refectory, after all the dear Sisters wo
liave parted in life and death."

To repeated inquiries as to her health, which was now quite
shattered, she pleasantly replies :

" I have a real old man's cough — old woman is entirely exploded
from the fashionable vocabulary, no such chara-cter is to be recog-
nized in future. I hope, however, that my old man's cough will
not impede my journey westward in September, as I look forward
with joyful expectation to seeing you all once more."

Then she turns to the other invalids, all of whom survived her :
" Sister M. Aloysia is exceedingly thin, pale, and weak ; she has
no cough or any ether alarming symptom. Sister M. Austin is
quite delicate, with a prospoct of recovery. Our poor, indefati-
gable Sister Teresa* is in the same state — teeth discolored, bad
rest, scarcely any appetite — whole countenance expressive of some
vital part being nfiTected, yet doing more than ever for the Institute,
She clings to her charitable employment, and every action of hers
seems to be followed by a blessing. She is most patient and
amiable every way."

This year Mother McAuley realized a project she hai\ much at

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LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

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heart — the bailding of a public lanndry in connection with the
House of Mercy. " Through the providence of God and the liind*
ness of Father O'Hanlon," she writes, " we haie got a legacy
nearly equal to the amount." She was also enabled to build an
addition to the House of Mercy. Speaking of the laundry, she
says :

" Sister Agatha head laundress (all the Lay Sisters are very
good). The expense of coal is great — a ton a week — soap, &c.
These things take time. The work should be great that would
leave a surplus after this ; but fire will not cost more when the
work is much increased, as the hot closet must be prepared in the
same manner for a small as for a large quantity."

In June, 1840, Bishop Murphy, ' f Cork, wrote to Sister M.
Clare, whom he had loaned to Bermondsey, stating that he would
go to Loudon for her in August. Bishop GrifiSfths learning this,
sent an urgent appeal to Dr. Murphy, entreatmg that he would
permit her to remain a little longer. " Let their Lordships set-
tle it between them," wrote the temporary Superioress ; " I feel
no anxiety." Their Lordships did " settle it between them," but
not to the satisfaction of Reverend Mother, who, on hearing their
decision, wrote :

" If I had it as I wished, I would not have left her in Loudon
after myself, since she was not to remain. A change hereafter
will be dangerous — she has already been left there too long — bat
it will be a lesson for other foundations. God will direct all to
His greater glory."

Tbis prediction was verified. When the change was made, it
proved dangerous indeed ; but had Bev. Mother's advice been
acted on, the young Order had beon spared much anxiety and some
trouble. So far was Dr. Griffiftbs from consentmg to Mother
Clare's removal when " the little while" was over, that ho wrote to
Ireland for more Sisters, as the Foundress thus mentions :

" I had a most interesting letter from the Bishop of London,
askiuff for two professed Sisters to forward some views which he
docs not fully explain. I suspect they design to open another
house in I ondon, in a more central situation than Bermondsey^
though this has not been, unequivocally etajtod to me. However,

ET.

LIFE OP CATHERINE MOAULET.

373

aaection with the
God and the kind"
laie got a legacy
abled to buUd att
,f the laundry, she

ly Sisters are very
a week— soap, &c.
• great that would
3st more when the
be prepared in the

ivrote to Sister M.
,ting that he would
[fifths learning this,
iting that he would
their Lordships set-
uperioress ; " I feel
between them," but
^ho, on hearing their

left her in Loudon
A change hereafter
there too long— but
(d will direct all to

thange was made, it
[other's advice been
ich anxiety and some
)n8enting to Mother

', that he wrote to

[b mentions :

Bishop of London,

)mo viewB which he

ign to open another

\a than Bermondsey,

to me. However,

he asked the favor so mnch in the name of Qod, that it was impos-
sible to refuse, though most distressing to comply. Very Rev.
Drs. Butler and Maddock arrived here to conduct them to London.
I saw my poor Sisters M. Xavier and de Sales on board, and
though the cabin was full of high-toned persons, the good little
stewardess recognized us .it once, and said most triumphantly :
' This is the Queen, that you went in to found a convent in Lon-
don.' I feci quite deserted this morniu<;. May God bless them,
and receive the offering to His greater glory."

Whatever the projects were which the saintly Bishop enter-
tained, they had to be laid aside for the present, three of the Ber-
mondsey Sisters having caught a most malignant fever, which
proved fatal in two cases. In a letter dated November, 1840, the
Foundress says :

" We fancied Sisters M. de Sales and Xavier were going for
some additional good work ; but God has arrested the progress,
no doubt to give us a greater contempt of earthly plans, and more
animation to work with increased fervor, seeing that life and death
are so closely, so intimately united. I have just got a \hird lettev
from my poor Sister M. CLre, who says : ' Picture us to yourself
going to the vault with one dear Sister on Wednesday, and with
another on the Saturday foUowirg.' The third remains in a very
doubtful state. They caught this malignant fever attending a poor
family, all of whom have recovered I My poor Sister Clare is in
deep affliction ; she says, ' My heart is gone.' You would not
know her writing.

" I look forward now to their greater progress, to show that
'His ways are not like onr ways, uor His thoughts like our
thoughts.' This is the way of God's providence. All will go on
well, to show that what we consider a drawback will be followed
by greater progress. My poor Sisters Xavier and de Sales have
been of the greatest assistance. What a scene of sorrow we sent
them to I"

Sisters M. Ursula O'Connor and M. Scholastica Borrougbs
were the victims of this fever. Of Sister M. Ursula, the authoress
of Geraldine, then Mother- Assistant in Bermondsey Convent,
wrote to the friends of the deceased :

tssmassma

374

lilFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

•' Her death was trinmpliant in faith, hope, and charity. A
little before her departure, she exclaimed : 'My God, Thou
knowest I Lave never refused Thee any tiling : call me now, and
receive me into Thy bosom.' "

" The Community in heaven" was rapidly increasing. Sister M.
Burke, in the Galway Convent, St. Teresa's, was summoned frouj
the Order before she received its habit. Determined that the new
branch should sustain no loss by her demise, she bequeathed her
fortune to admit a Sister in her place. Six Sisters of Mercy
passed from earth in as many months, of the year 1840.

In August, this year, the Sisters destined for Birmingham Con-
vent received the holy habit, the Archbishop presiding. " I felt
exceedingly anxious," wrote Mother McAuley, "that Dr. Murray
should perform this ceremony, in order to make the most pious un-
pression on their minds. His grace, who is greatly engaged,
named the 8th of August. We must come out of retreat for that
purpose, and will joyfully do so, since he assents. He looks so
heavenly and venerable that the English Sisters will never forget
him. The eff'"5t wil' be most valuable to them, and we estoem it
so great a favor to get him that we would not make any diffi-
culty." The beauty of the immortal spirit, which gives expression
to the human face, can be seen only by its Creator ; but one does
not often meet a countenance so eloquent of every virtue, so well
adapted to confirm in the beholder the reverence u high and sacred
office naturally inspires, as wac that of the late Archbishop of
Dublin ; and even this accidental circumstance the Foundress
turns to account.

In September, this year, she assisted at a Reception, at St.
Teresa's, Galway, which took place in the parish church. The
whole Community attended, the carriages of the parents of the
ladies to be received having been kindly placed at their disposal.
Sister Christina Joyce, daughter of Walter Joyce, Esq., of Mer-
view, and Sister Prances Macdonald, were the ladies received on
that occasion. The sermon was preached by the "Apostle of
Temperance," a great friend of Reverend Mother's. "Father
Theobald Mathcw has become quite eloquent since last I heard
him," slie writes. Yet, his reputation as a preacher being estab-

ET.

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

SYS

0, and charity. A

'My God, Thou

: call me now, and

;reasing. Sister M.
ras snmmoned froui
•mined that the new
she bequeathed her
X Sisters of Mercy
jar 1840.

or Birmingham Con-
presiding. " I felt
, " that Dr. Murray
:e the most pious im-
is greaily engaged,
t of retrtat for that
lents. He looks so
ters will never forget
em, and we estoem it
not make any diflfi-
■hich gives expression
reator ; but one does
every virtue, so well
ice u high and sacred
late Archbishop of
ance the Foundress

a Reception, at St.
parish church. The

the parents of the
ced at their disposal.
Joyce, Esq., of Mor-
he ladies received on
by the "Apostle of

Mother's. " Father
;nt since last I heard

preacher being estab-

lished previou? to 1840, she must have heard him before under nii«
favorable auspices. If the essence of eloquence be the power to
pcrsuauii or convince, then was the Apostle the greatest orator of
his day. Still, his extraordinary success was due rather to his ex-
treme kiudness and geniality than to his eloquence. In a letter
dated October, 1840, the following characteristic passage occurs :

" The few Sisters they ha' e in Gal way are remarkably nice.
Father Daly visits them some time every day. He objected to a
very nice young person, to whom an uncle left a large legacy, be-
cause she had been for a few months in a respectable millinery
warehouse 1 He said the Galway people would find out any
thing, and if they found that out, it would cause certain injury I
He had charge of the Presentation Convent for twenty years, and
is quite attentive to every trifle. He is most generous, but has not
means proportioned to his undertakings, and is always engaged
for too much." Verily, it was not easy to supply subjects for a
place where genealogies and antecedents were matter for such
warm discussion ; and if the Fouo'^rcss did not like these things
" carried so far as — Cork," she certainly did not like them carried
so far as — Galway. Yet she always conceded, as far as she could,
to the peculiarities of every place, while she showed the Sisters that
in religion virtue was the only real aiistocracy, the chief thing valued.

Shortly after her return, she wrote to Mother Teresa White, of
Galway :

" I cannot make up any excuse to write to Father Daly, since
you say he is as kind as ever. If you would only complain, I
could then alarm him by saying I would go to Galway immediately,
to look after my poor, fatherless children."

Uuder a later date, she writes to Mother Catherine Leahy :

" I am delighted to find you aro so happy. You cannot be other-
wise, while the spirit of your vocation animates year actions. The
daily' review and interrogation : ' What had God in view in calhng
me to ttiis state ? Do I endeavor, in every thought, word, and
action, to correspond with his intentions in ray regard ?' These
are all important. As I am certain you attend to them, happiness
must await you, even when yci have many charges to bring against
yourself."

376

LIFi: OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

The rea'^^er will easily perceive that the animated correspondence
Rev. Mother kept up with each of her houses, waa a heavy
tax on her time, though not on her charity. Her children after-
wards confessed that they had shown great wane of consideration
for their sainted Mother, whom they expected to give them a de-
tailed account of all that took place in St. Mary's, and even to
gratify them by going one or two hundred miles out of her way to
visit them ; and this on a mail coach which sped through the
country at the rate of four or five miles an hour. To an invitation
to partake of the latter recreation, and a request to bring such'and
such Sisters with her, she replied : " I received your welcome let-
ter, and am quite amused with all your proposed arrarigeme its for
the expected visitors. ' Man proposes,' " &c., &c. Yet she who
knew how to make herself all to all, and who 'pleased not herself,'
never seemed weary of the affectionate but rather distressing im-
portunities of her absent children. When hindered from replying
directly to their notes, she politely apologizes ; and the least effort
they make to testify their affection, she immediately acknowledges,
eiud strives to repay by prayers and thanks.

t i

SVi^ -f~ 'Ij .-■ ■ -
-■'tt tin' ^ .'!■' - -

1./, liUiM -mid m<, liMyt m'''*^u*.'i i(a>w«j«^

ed correspondence
es, wan a heavy
[fcr children aftcr-
c of coneideratioQ
give them a de-
ary's, and even to
out of her way to
sped through the
To an invitation
t to bring such*and
[ your welcome let-
i arrarigeme its for
&c. Yet she who
pleased not herself,'
ther distressing im-
dercd from replying
and the least effort
ately acknowledges,

CHAPTER XXXVI.

The Apostle of Temperance and the Sister of Mercy.— A Howard amonjr th«
Teetotalers.— Birr.— Worse feuds than the " O'Cnrroll Feuds."— The Apostle's
expedient.— The Crottyites.— Mother McAnley on the progress of Tempe-
rance.- Letters from Birr.— Conversion of Eov. Mr. Crotty.— "The Bun
shines too brightly" for the Foundress.

DURING the past few years. Rev. Mother had frequently met
and corresponded with her friend, Very Rev. Theobald
Mathew, then the idol of the people. Besides the intrinsic graces
of his peculiar " Apostlcsaip," he was endowed with every exterior
gift powerful to secure respect and win affection. His countenance
was eminently handsome, his aspect commanding, his carriage
noble, hi3 whole presence majestic — suavity and benevolence
glowed in his every feature. The elegance of the perfect gentle-
man, and the " universal blaniness of the courtier," were tempered
by the solemn dignity of the Priest, which never for a moment
forsook the saintly friar, though he extended the hand of friend-
ship to the beggar and the lord, and was emphatically the friend
and father of the poor.

Catherine McAuley and Theobald Mathew had much in com-
mon. Enlarged benevolence, universal sympathy, utmost tender-
ness for the unfortunate, and almost extravagant kindness to the
erring, marked the dealings of both with their fellow-creatures.
Not a drop of gall or bitterness was found in either. The sweet-
ness, mildness, and charity of Jesus faintly, yet truly, irradiated
the countenance of each. They were, indeed, kindred spirits, al-
most too bright for earth. Perhaps neither ever caused the shed-
ding of a tear, if we except tears of gratitude and afifection. They
left the world better and happier than they found it ; and what a
world this might be, if there were many such I

Mother McAuley noted with peculiar delight the successes of her

r?P"

378

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

friend in bis great work ; and she always considered him as a spoi
cial agent in the bands of God, Every rank, age, and sex i jckcd
to the Apostle, eager to receive the " Pledge" from his venerable
hands. The Earl of Arundel and Surrey, whose ancestors ruled the
fairest portions of Europe,* ages before the royal Houses of Tudor,
Stuart, or Brunswick were heard of, knelt with a crowd of la-
borers before the Irish Franciscan. The erudite and the illiterate,
priests and laymen. Catholics, Protestants, and Dissenters, were
among his cherished disciples. But the poor were the class most
benefited by the immense boon of temperance. No longer were
bacchanalian revellers, haggard wives, and wretched, starving chQ-
dren, found among those whom Jesus specially loves, and among
whom His own blessed lot on earth was cast.

Father Mathew, in a Temperance mission to Birr, in 1840, be-
came acquainted with the particulars of an affair which threatened
serious consequences. This little town is situated in the south-
western extremity of King's County, not far from Tipperary. It
is much visited by persons curious to see Lord Rosse's telescope,
the largest optical instrument in the world, which is erected in
Birr Castle. In Irish history Birr is famous for " the O'Carroll
feuds ;" but the feuds which distracted it some thirty years ago
acquired it a more unfortunate celebrity. Difficulties between its
pastor and the Lord Bishop of Eillaloc, which resulted in open
rebellion on the part of the former, gave rise to something like a
schism, for many joined the poor, deluded man who resisted his
lawful superior. Now, it had always been the proud boast of
Ireland, that neither heresy nor schism originated on her soil, and
that no native of Ireland, at home or abr^^ad, ever became an here-
siarch or a schismatic ;t and this boast few other Catholic conn-

• The nobleman here referred to was heir to the Duke of Norfolk, The How-
ards reckon, among their progenitors, Charlemagne, Alfred the Oreat, St. Mar-
garet of Scotlapd, St. Louia of France, the greatest of the Plantagenets, &o.

t Another peonliarity of the ancient Irish Cbnroh is, that it had no martyrs.
The few commemorated as martyrs in the calendar, as St. Dynipna, <&o., did
not receive the crown of martyrdom in their native land. The Normans, re-
proaching the Irish for this in the thirteenth century. Archbishop O'llenoy, of
Cashel, retorted — " That reproach will soon be taken awny, since the Mormans,
who know so well how to makemut^rs, are come into oar country." Sinoe

dered him as a spei
ige, and sex i jckcd
' frovn his venerable
B ancestors ruled the
^al Houses of Tudor,
vith a crowd of la-
lite and the illiterate,
vnd Dissenters, were
were the class most
>e. No longer were
retched, starving chil-
illy loves, and among

to Birr, in 1840, be-
Efair which threatened
ituated in the south-
• from Tipperary. It
ord Rosse's telescope,
1, which is erected in
IS for " the O'CarroU
iome thirty years ago
Difficulties between its
hich resulted in open
ic to something like a
man who resisted his
the proud boast of
inated on her soil, and
[, ever became an here-
other Catholic coun-

LIPE OP CATHERINE MCAULBT.

879

_ J of Norfolk. The How-
[Alfred the Great, St. Mar-
If the Plantagenets, &o.
lis, that it had no martyr*.
[, as St. Dympna, &o., did
land. The Normans, re-
Archbishop O'Honey, of
i owny, since the Normans,
into oar country." Since

tries, if any, can make. When Europe teemed with Arians, Wal-
denses, Albigenses, or Lollards— when the Refoiraation produced
an English Church in England, a Scotch Church in Scotland, no
Irish Church started up : the Irish people remained as they are
to-day, almost " more Roman than the Romans themselves." No
wonder, then, that all good Catholics grieved when something,
ever so Tittle, resembling a schism, threatened to sully a small frac-
tion of the Church in Ireland, after fourteen centuries of fidelity.

The breach between legitimate and self-constituted authority
became daily wider, to the scandal of the weak, the extinction of
charity, and, perhaps, the loss of souls. Party feeling was at its
height : the right could not, and the wrong would not, yield, and
there was but one man in Ireland to whom both sider^ would listen,
— that man was the genial and gentle Apostle of Temperance.
During his stay in Birr he became fully acquaintpH "'ith the cvila
Rev. Mr. Crotty had cansed: and besides enrolling thousands
under the banner of temperance, which was bis chief business, he
strenuously labored to restore unity and brotherly love. Few
could resist hia unfailing kindness ; but he no sooner departed than
his converts relapsed. Priests, except himself, could do nothing in
the business. The Crottyites would not walk on the same side
of the street with a priest. The expedient he devised proved en-
tirely successful. He thought these great, rough men, who openly
defied priest and bishop, might yield to the gentler ministrations
of the Sisters of Mercy. Accordingly, he opened a correspondence
with the Foundress, visited her several times, and having pleaded
Lis cause with his wonted eloquence, obtained a promise that Birr
would be her next foundation. He plainly told her that the con-
version of the incorrigibles must be her chief inducement, there
being as yet no foundi^tion fund or endowment ofiTered for the con-
vent in contemplation ; but no sooner had she learned that the
faith of the poor people was in danger, than she wrote : " I wordd

tlio Reformation, however, every diocese, town, and village, and almost every
family can point out its martyrs. Rov. Mr. Noligan, in his "Suiutly Charao-
tors," says : " The causes of several holy persons who died, in Ireland for tha
faith, during the ages of persecution which passed over that land, ever faithful
to the Mother of Ood and St. Peter, are before the Congregation of Rites."

'^^

980

LIFE OP CATHKRINE MCAULBT.

like to remnin in Birr as one stationary. I should not fear begging
my bread." Even if Baggot-strcct bad to be relinquished, Birr
was sure to be founded.

Besides, the Apostle was an active friend to the Order, and as
snch his requests were commands. When he and the Foundress
met in their widely dissimilar missions of mercy, it could only be to
aid and encourage each other. Gladly would she have spent the
few moliths that now remained to her, in Bur — happy, if by her life,
mnch less by her exertions, she could repair the rent the enemy
of souls was making in Christ's seamless garment, the Church.

" Give me, for Birr," wrote the Ap jstle, " truly spiritual persons
— souls that rely entirely on God's y •ovidcnce." Such persons she
sojght for i;his trying mission. She always sought to meet the
peculiarities of every place ; and seeing that Birr almost required
a sainl, she destined for it the most saintly member then in the
Order, her " most angelic Sister M. Aloysia Scott." But as Sister
M. Aloysia was then in consumption, Prayers and Masses were
offered for her recovery ; and as she soon became perfectly well,
Rev. Mother always thought Father Mathew had wrought a
miracle in her behalf. " We are ah grieved," wrote she, " to part
with our dear, humble and saintly Sister M. Aloysia ;" but as she
was best suited to the arduous task of reconverting But, she must
be spared. In November, 1840, the Apostle arrived in Dublin on
a Temperance mission, and also to make conclusive arrangements
for the Birr foundation. Of the change total abstinence had
wrought iu a few months, the Foundress speaks thus energetically :

"The publicans are in terror at Father Mathew's approach.
Another visit, they say, will break them. What an agent he has
been in the hands of God ! You can scarcely form an idea of the
moral improvement throughout the country. We passed through
populous towns on fair-days without hearing one angry voice — men,
women, and children well drcss"d, and all most peaceable and
happy. This proves what the special grace of God can effect,
though bestowed on but one man, yet so ns to go forth amongst
millions by the agency of his touch. Creatures are converted
who never could keep a promise made to God or man, and who
frequently violated the most solemn oaths when intemperance vat

BT.

. LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

881

d not fear begging
relinqmshed, Birr

the Order, and aa
ind the Foundress
it could only be to
she have spent the
lappy, if by her life,
the rent the enemy
nt, the Church,
aly spiritual persons
' Such persons she
sought to meet the
Birr almost required
member then in the
!ott." But as Sister
•rs and Masses were
>came perfectly well,
icw had wrought a
wrote she, " to part
loysia ;" but as she
irting Birr, she must
arrived in Dublin on
elusive arrangements
otal abstinence had
:s thus energetically :
tfathew's approach,
lat an agent he has
'orm an idea of the
We passed through
le angry voice — men,
most peaceable and
of God can effect,
,0 go forth amongst
atures are converted
od or man, and who
len intemperance wa»

J) qnestlon. Persons of strong mind and good education hare
never given evidence of greater resolution than these thousands of
weak, ignorant, obstinate creatures are now manifesting."*

The Irish were not more addicted to intoxication than their
Scotch and English neighbors ; but if there were only a dozen in-
ebriates on the island, it would be a dozen too many. There is no
denying that this odious vice made dreadful havoc among the
poor, particularly in large cities. None knew this better than
Beverend Mother. Full half the misery which it had been her
life-long business to relieve, was the result of intemperance. Wher-
ever this vice prevailed, there coexisted nude, wretched children and
famished wives, whose whole appearance bore but too eloquent tes-
timony of the amiability which inebrial e chivalry exercises towards
weak, defenceless women and children. She had converted Protest
tants and bad Catholics by hundreds — bhe had scarcely ever yet
succeeded in thoroughly reforming a drnn):ard. No wonder, then,
that she revered the man who had changed these monsters into
good fathers, good husbands, and peaceable citizens. " What an
agent he has been in the hands of God I" she exclaimed ; and well
she might, for " no man could do these works unless God were
with him." So enthusiastic a supporter was she of the cause of
temperance, that she herself received " the pledge" from the Apos-
tle, and wore her " medal" with a joy which the Star of the Garter
or the Cross of the Legion of Honor could not excite. On her
foundations, when passing through towns in which no convent was
situated, the clergy of the place, who vrould not permit h^r to go
to a hotel, always entertained her in a manner worthy of such a
guest. If wine was served on such occasions, the friend of the
Apostle quietly showed her " Temperance Medal."

Perhaps there never was a man more universally loved and rey-
erenced than Father Mathew ; and, indeed, it would not bo easy
to imagine one better calculated to inspire those sentiments. He
is not to be claimed solely by Ireland, his native land; nor by Tip-

* In Cork, the ApoHtle's adopted city, the whole community of Christian
BrotherB, that they miglit aid tlio caaae with bettor effect among tlie men,
young and old, whom they instructed, joined the Total Abstinence. Engaged
in the luboriouB work of teaching, they willingly relinquiBhed a privilege they

'*arT*»«

ifrr

88S

LIFE OP CATHEBINE MCAULET.

perary, among whose green hills he passed his peaceful boyhood ;
nor by Cork, the city of his adoption, where his tomb is visited as
a shrine, and his features kept fresh in the memoiies of the old,
and made familiar to the young, in the almost breathing marble of
the sculptor ;* — Father Mathew belongs to the human race, to the
whole world ; and our nature may well be proud of him, and grate-
ful to the Omnipotent Father of all, who wrought such wonders by
His servant, and so well fitted that servant to become His in-
strument.

Mother McAuley, in the following extracts which we make from
Bome of her letters, gives some particulars of the Birr Foundation,
which she commenced on the Feast of St. John the Evangelist,
December 21, 1840 :

" I am auxious to write to you from my strange habitation.
How many new beds have I rested in ! When I awake in the
morning, I ark myself where I am ; and, on the last two or three
Foundations, I could not recollect for some moments. This is a
good old house, delightfully situated, fields and garden all around
it ; it must be particularly healthy. Sister M. Aloysia is remark-
ably well. I firmly believe Father Mathew hcs been the agent in
her final recovery, he prayed so much for the Birr Foundress. We
travelled to Tullamore on Saturday. The new convent is a beau-
tiful edifice I had no idea of its extent. The staircase is the
finest I ever saw ; the community-room larger than ours ; the
infirmary as large — thirty cells ; and water brought through the
whole house by conductors, so that a pipe can be put anywhere.
The school-rooms are very fine, and connected with the convent."

" At Eglisb, we dined with our dear friend, Father Murtagh,
the parish priest ; our own priest. Dr. Spain, the Dean, and the
Vicar-general, came to meet us. We had a teetotal entertainment
— coffee served immediately after dinner. We arrived in Birr

could hardly abnso, for the sole purpose of adding the force of example to their
instructions. Men lik". these are the real philauthropiata. They do, as well as
teach.

• A splendid statue of Father Mathew, the first ever erected to a priest in the
British dominions, adorns Patrick-street, Cork. T!ie citizens do well to per-
petuate the rejnembrance of the physical features of one whose virtues, { ablio
and private, shed such lustre on their city.

ET.

LirK OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

883

peaceful boybood ;
tomb is visited as
raoiiea of the old,
)reathing marble of
human race, to the
a of him, and grate-
;ht such wonders by
to become His in-

rhicb we make from
[le Birr Foundation,
ohn the Evangelist,

' straiigt; habitation,
hen I awake in the
he last two or three
moments. This is a
d garden all around
[. Aloysia is remark-
ics been the agent in
[Birr Foundress. We
w convent is a beau-
The staircase is the
rger than ours ; the
3rought through the
:an be put anywhere,
with the convent."
nd, Father Murtagh,
1, the Dean, and the
eetotal entertainment
We arrived in Birr

_ force of exomple to their
ists. They do, as well 88

erected to a priest in the

citizens do well to per-

>no whose virtues, lublio

about six, said our prayers, and went to rest. Next day, we saw
several ladies — one a candidate, a Miss Egan, educated at Thurles
Ursulinc Convent.

" We were very busy all day Monday, till retreat time, when we
left the reception-rooms and lived in our cells. How sweet, how
blessed is our life, which affords so nmch solid consolation and en-
joyment when all that the world values is shut out from us!
Everywhere I thought the sun was shining even loo mucL. I do
not think any one in the midst of Christmas festivities was so
happy as we were."

" Everywhere I thought the sun was shining too much." This
is a curious passage. Certainly, she cannot mean the material sun,
whose beams could scarce be too brilliant ou a dull December day.
And that the Eternal Sun of Justice should irradiate her beautiful
soul with His light, is not wonderful ; but that such an acknowl-
edgment should escape one who so strongly incj|ilcated reserve in
speaking of .spiritual favors, is strange indeed. There is not a
similar passage in her whole correspondence. " Jesus was silent."
This was the daily subject of her meditations. It hushed com-
plaints when they rushed to her lips ; for how could she complain
when " Jesus was silent V It schooled her into " reserve" as to
the gifts bestowed on her, that she might be able to say, " My
secret to myself." Only once did the superabundance of celestial
favors throw her for a moment off her guard ; and then, she, who
preferred Calvary to Mount Thabor, complains that the sun shone
too brightly — too brightly for the light of an exile, too brightly
for one who desired to be included in the happy millions of whom
Jesus said : " Blessed are they who believe and have not seen."

Under a later date, she resumes her lively narra, m :

" Sister M. Aloysia was up before five, Now Tear's Day, and
did not get her breakfast till after ten. She rises at half-past five
every morning, and looks remarkably well. After Mass, the
Vicar said : ' My dear people, I have a present to make you. I
have a New Year's gift to bestow, the most gratifying a pastor
could give. I present to you the Sisters of Mercy, who, by their
example and pious instruction, will draw upon our town the bless-
ings of heaven. I recommend them to your respectful attention,

wim

884

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOA0LEY.

and I beseech God to bless them ^..d you.' We had great langb-
ing about this, saying that he might have tried us a little longer,
and not made a present of us so soon. We got a separate place
in the church, wliich is so near that we shall not require bonnets
and cloaks.

" The unfortunate Mr. Crotty is indefatigable in his evil works.
He is joined by Mr. Carlisle, lately a commissioner of education.
They have the same church, and preach the same doctrine, namely,
that ' nothing is to be feared but Popery.' This speaks well for
the National Board : had Mr. Carlisle found it likely to injure
Catholicity, he would not abandon it."

" Jan. 12, 1841. — We are getting quite at home here.
Sister M. Aloysia strong and lively. Sister Martha a real treasure,
and our postulant useful in every way, quite a different person from
what she was in Baggot-street, Nothing like Fouudations for
rousing ua all. Our expected Sister is really in aflSiction at not
joinmg us. Her father does not refuse consent, but says he must
have time to prepare his mind. He cried here on Sunday, I fear
she must make a runaway. We hear of other postulants, but
rothing near a close. You will see by the writing that I can
Bcarcelj hold the pen. I feel so grateful to God for the prosperity
of Wexford, that, if we should not get a postulant for a month, it
would not cast me down. I never saw such frost ; the cold is in-
tense — every place covered with snow. Sister M. Clare says they
have a more severe winter in London than has been for a century.
What sailors call the ' white swan' (a cloud of snow floating in the
air), has been seen off Winchester. She expects two Sisters
immediately, daughters of the principal merchants in Portugal.
Dear Sisters Xavier and De Sales well — (Jl well in Caggot-street.
My poor James"* has rallied a little. My good, affectionate
Sister M. Genevieve is his constant nurse, gives all her day to him,
and, when she finds it necessary, goes again in the evening. She

* Her nephew, James MoAuloy, then dying of oonsiimption. Sister M.
Genevieve waa past sixty wlien slie volunteered to nurse him. Before entering
X'.eligion, slie liiid lost her husband and sons " on a blood-red field of Spain,"
She was an onthuaiastic gardener, as the grounds of St. Anne's still sliow. Her
ohief reorMtion was to rear flowers for the altar.

QLEY.

LIFK OF CATHEEIKE MCAULET.

8SS

We had great langh-
ried us a little longer,
3 got a separate place
,11 not require bonnets

ible in his evil works,
lissioner of education,
same doctrine, namely,
This speaks well for
ind it likely to injure

nite at home here.
Uartha a real treasure,
a different person from

like Foundations for
illy in aCaiction at not
isent, but says he must
ere on Sunday. I fear
' other postulants, but
le writing that I can
God for the prosperity

stulant for a month, it
|h frost ; the cold is in-
ter M. Clare says they

las been for a century.
|of suow floating in the
expects two Sisters

crchants in Portugal.

well in Caggot-street.
;y good, affectionate

jves all her day to him,
in the evening. She

loonsuinption. Sister M.

luree him. Beforo entering

kood-reii field of Spain."

3t. Anne's still show. Her

has become quite fond of him, and, provided he does nothing with"
out her leave, grants whatever he wishes. Ho won't even open a
book that is lent him till she approves of it. How good Qod is
to him I
" A long poetic epistle from Sister M. Ursula, who says :

Sister Oeuevieve's ffarden is looked up in snow,

So she cannot exert herself there.
But a certain sick child whom yoa tenderly know.
Has all her affectionate care.

• No sign of our Pastor's* return here as yet,

Some think that next month iio'll be home ;
Others think that a bishopric surely he'll get,
Or be kept for the College at Home.'

" Slow workmen here — no choir yet. Sister M. Aloysia is out
every day. She has a sick priest and an old lady in her own
charge. SLstcr M. Teresa has two unfortunate Crottyite families,
obstinate, though most miserable in mind. I never saw anything
so like the description the French Priest, Monsieur De Luers, gave
at George's Hill, of some possessed persons he saw in a remote
part of France, who could not bear the Sign of the Cross. These
unhappy people will not raise the hand to make it, or even suffer
you to help them ; and while they pour out dreadful curses on the
miserable man that deluded them, the/ will not move one step to
obtain reconciliation. It seems as if they could not. I never saw
schismatics before. They are worse in appearance than heretics.
The latter think they are right ; the others know they are wrong,
and yet are obstinate. If any of them mnke the Sign of the Crots
when we are with them, it is in the style of a stubborn child, who
is forced to say what is against his will.

" They are not persecuting me with letters to return. God bless
Father O'Hanlon, be put an end to that in Baggot-street. When
I returned from Galway, I looked so ill, that he particularly asked
what had distressed me. I told him the uneasy state my mind was
kept in with accounts from St. Mary's, saying, ' I would not be

* Very Bev. Dr. EnnlH, Booterstown.

886

LIFE OF CATHKBINE M<JATJLEY.

home before Sister Aloysia'3 death, &c., &c., and this wheu I had
& doath-bed to attend at St. Teresa's."

"l<hb. 14. — Ml 3 Egan has entered, a very fine person, aboat

twenty-four. Poor Miss M has no chance here, — money,

money is all the theme. I entreated in favor of a yonng lady with
sixteen pounds a year and a hundred in hand — it was regarded aa
quite in.-infficient. A convent never yet succeeded in tliis diocese
(Killaloe), it is supposed from imprudent arrangements. The
Bishop has given strict charges to the Yicar, who ks Ecclesiastical
Superior. I leave this on Monday. Some remarks have been
made on my being twice absent daring the novitiate of the Eng-
lish Sisters. The English Bishops think Superiors should be with
their charge. Sister Aloysia is about in all the bitter cold, a very
busy little vvoman, entering on her new state very quietly and very
efficiently. We saw little to expect first, now a bright light is
dawning. Sister M. Cecilia had three Bishops to entertain on
Sunday, and two en Monday She likes the Primate (Dr. Crolly)
and Bishop Wiseman very each.

" P. S. — Since I mentioned to S. M. Aloysia that I was going,
I have found her crying, and must try and remain eight or ten
days more. Besides, I promised to read and explain part of the
Rule for our postulant, at which I will work diligently to help my
poor Sister Aloysia, who cannot speak much. She has got a nice
lay Sister, strong and good-humored. Sister M. Josephine begs
that I will take Naas on my way home, in which I promised to |
gratify her." ;.

In another letter, she says :

" Dear little Sister M. llose is hke an angel, instructing the poor |
people led astray by the schismatical party. She has them con-
stantly about her, and begs the whole Order will unite in the {
Thirty days' Prayer for the conversion of the poor apostate leader.
I try to moderate her zeal. I am really afraid, that if they met
in any poor place, she would speak to him, and this wonld be ex-
ceedingly wrong.*

* Mother McAuley never allowed the Siaterti to iutrodiico controverey wheDJ
tliey met Protestantfl, &c., on the vinitation. She said, if poraoiis having doubtt |
about their own religion want ioBtruction, the Sisters were ever ready tu giva it;|

tJLEY.

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

387

, and this wheu I had

rery fine person, about
chance here,— money,
)r of a young lady with
id— it was regarded as
iceeded in tliis diocese
t arrangements. The
ir, who is Ecclesiastical
me remarks have been
. novitiate of the Eng-
uperiors should be with
11 the bitter cold, a very
,te very quietly and very
;, now a bright light is
Bishops to entertain on
the Primate (Dr. CroUy)

.loysia that I was going,
and remain eight or ten
and explain part of the |
ork diligently to help my
ach. She has got a nice I
ister M. Josephine begs
in which I promised to I

angel, instructing the poor
,rty. She has them con-
Order will unite in the
the poor apostate leader. I
^afraid, that if they met
m, and this would be cx-|

to introduce controversy when I
«ald, if persons having Uoubtt I
ibters were ever reudy to givs lt;l

" I will not expect a letter from you till I return to our dear
old habitation, where I shall never again see all my dearly loved
Sisters — all strange f:\ces now ! Tiiey all say that the first separa-
tion from home and kindred was & joyful sorrow, but that separa-
tions in Religion are bitter smroios. What must it be to me, who
have never yet seen one unkind Sister ? This is a gloomy subject.
We will all meet in heaven. Oh, what a joy to think of that !

" It is reported that poor Father Grotty is getting several preach-
ers to I'irr, to aid him in recovering some of his congregation
stolen by .^he L?isters of Mercy. Thank God, the poor deluded
souls are retnrjing very fast, and preparing to approach the Holy
Sacrament."

The dark spot which the obstinacy of the late Pastor of Birr
threatened to mark in the glorious history of orthodox Ireland,
hardly deserves the degrading distinction of being designated by
the name of schism. It was like a momentary eclipse of a very
small segment of the sun ; it passed as a noxious vapor, tainting
what it touched, but incapable of inflicting lasting injury. It left
no perceptible traces behind ; the people strove to bury it iu obli-
vion, und in a short time the very memory thereof seemed com-
I pletely obliterated. Had it not been so graphically described iu
the letters of the Foundress, we could not attempt to trace its his-
tory, no one being able or willing to give correct inforniatiou on
I the snbject.

The Birr Convent, which was dedicated to St. Johu the Evan-
Igelist, prospered exceedingly. The Apostle of Temperance cou-
I tinned its ective friend and benefactor, and the primary object of
I the mission was achieved in the rapid conversion of the "Crotty-
lites." The " most angelic Sister Aloysia Scott," when after lin-

Ibut if tliey desired to wrnnglo about religion, the Sisters had not tirno, nor waa

lit Hiiited to thuir vocation to jcin in auoh. She was so suocesoful in converting

Irrotostiuits herself, that a frlond onoo said to her: "I should think n great

Ideal more of your benevolence, if j ou did not olways take such pains, in yonr

Iquiet, irresistible way, to bring every one you relieved to your own way of

|tliiiiking." To wliioh Kov. Mother replied, her countenance g'owing, as it ul-

vays did, when she spoke of the Faith in which she gloried : " It is a burning

shame, and a lasting humiliation for me to think, that I, vho know so well

»bat the C«tholio Faith is, shoild show so little zeni in drawing all porsouB to It."

iui if she had little loal iu this matter, God help Iha most of lu.

1:1

^H'

888

LIFE OF CATHBBINB ICCAULET.

gering some years in consumption (but not invalided tUl near the
end), slie passed from earth in May, 1844, did not leave a schis-
matic behind her. Even the unhappy man who had vamly at-
tempted to tarnish the glory of his Church, at length sought, and
we hope found, mercy through the ministry which he himself had
for years exercised, with a zeal and fruit that secured him un-
bounded influence over his simple-hearted, impulsive flock ; and no
Catholic, in Ireland or out of it, bewailed the Birr affair more bit-
terly or sincerely than he who had the misfortune to ongmate it.
Very Rev. Dr. O'Brien, of All Hallows College, DubUn, who re-
ceived back this poor erring sheep, this real Prodigal, to his Far
ther's house, says of him : " He wept long and bitterly; indeed he
looked the very victim of broken-hearted sorrow. He kept ever
aud ever crying out : ' Oh, the pride of my rebel heart 1 What
could I expect ? Disobedience— this has been my curse from first
to last!'* Those who wituessed his heroic penance, hoped, and al-
most felt, that it was accepted by Him who wUIs not the death of
a sinner, but his conversion. Indeed Rev. Mr. Crotty's fine natu-
ral talents, his eminently prepossessing appearance.f and his pre-
viously irreproachable life, were not the only ckcumstances that
awakened sympathy for him, even in the minds of such as knew
well that he was using God's gifts against God hunself. There
were also those who thought that, had he been less sternly dealt
with, he had never attained so unfortunate a celebrity. Of this
we cannot speak with certainty; but of one thing we are certain,
that while many things may account for rebellion in religious mat-
ters, nothing can justify it. Besides, who could have thought
that there were in the breast of that exemplary, meek-lookmg
priest, passions, which a few sunple circumstances could lash into
such frenzy ?

* ThU Jnterviow took place in the College Chapel, All HallowB.

t Thefoundrew had one interview with Mr. Crotty, of which we do no
know the particulars; but she said that, except Bi.hop Nolan, she never me*
any eocle»ia*tio whose whole demeanor was so expressive of every pnesUy vir- 1

tue. ■ ■ ■ ■ . > L ,• I'. , .'" V -

.ET.

alided tUl near the
not leave a schis-
ivho had vainly at-
length sought, and
tuch he himself had
at secured him un-
ulsive flock ; and no
Birr affair more bit-
;une to originate it.
ege, DubUn, who re-
Prodigal, to his Fa-
d bitterly, indeed he
row. He kept ever
rebel heart 1 What
n my curse from first
•nance, hoped, and ai-
r/ills not the death of
Ir. Crotty's fine natu-
arance.t and his pre-
ly circumstances that
inds of such as knew
God himself. There
)een less sternly dealt
a celebrity. Of this
liing we are certain,
ellion in religious mat-
could have thought
■mplary, meek-lookmg ]
stances could lash into

All Hallows,
■otty, of which w« do not I
hop Nolan, she never me» |
issive of every priesUy vU-

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Frefih ubjections to the Institute. — Boverend Mother appeals to Rome. — Let-
ter. — She loses the last of her " earthly joys." — Ilor warm attachment to her
relHtives. — The Naas Convent. — A severe letter. — O'Connell's speech at Car
riok-on-Suir. — ^The Wexford Convent. — A spoiled vocation.

IN 1838 the rumors began to be renewed which had been pre-,
viously considered so injurious to the Institute. As far as these
concerned herself personally, Mother McAuley did not notice them ;
but when it began to be circulated that the Indulgences granted to
her Order merely signified approval of a temporary good work ;
that the approbation subsequently given by the Holy See was of a
similar nature ; that Sisters of Mercy were not Religious, nor
their Institute recognized ; and further, that these reports caused
several ladies to hesitate in joining the Institute, she eagerly in'
quired what she ought to do to perfect the work intrusted to her,
and, in a letter on the subject, she informs us that she " did ex-
actly what was pointed out," She wrote to His Holiness, praying
him to confirm the Rules and Constitutions of the Institute,
and every Bishop in whose diocese a Convent of the Order wvs
located made, at her request, the same petition. The documents
were forwarded to Rome by Right Rev. Dr. GrifiBfths, who very
courteously offered to use his personal influence in favor of their
speedy confirmation. They were confirmed in June, 1840, but as
this joyful intelligence did not reach Ireland for more than a year
later, she was unable to silence the objections urged, with apparent
reason, against her Institifte. These weighed heavily on her mind,
tending as they did to undermine the fabric she had raised with
such labor. They grieved her children, who did not always know
how to ruply to them. The Superioress of Charleville having
written to inquire what answer ought to be given to a person sho

390

hlFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

was bound to respect, who had made inquiries on the sabject, tho
Foundress wrote s follows :

" Mast Rev. Dr. Murray obtained the full approbation of His
Holiness for our Order in 1835. When the Rule was completed,
he affixed his seal and signature ; but we did not wish to ask a
confirmation of it from the Holy See till wo had reduced it to prac-
tice. When I was in London in January, 1840, a petition for con-
firmation was presented, accompanied by letters of strong recom-
mendation from his Grace, the Archbishop of Dublin,* the Lord
Primate.f the BishopJ of Dromore, the Bishop§ of Cork, the
Bishop of Cloyne,|| the Bishop^ of Limerick, the Bishop** of
Kildare and LeighUn, the Bishopff of Ossory, the Bishopjt of
Meath, and the Bishop§§ of London. Very Rev. Father Colgan,
of the Carmelite Order, was bearer of a most gracious reply. He
wrote to roc, saying that if he could remain in Rome some time
longer, he couF. bring home the documents. I spoke with Rev.
Dr. Cullen.llll of tho Irish College, when ho was in Dublin. He
assured me that the Confirmation was certainly granted, but that
in Rome they were slow in issuing final documents."

There was another cross in prospect for the Foundress at this
time, the only one of the kind she was destined to endure She
was about to lose her nephew James, the lust of her " earthly
joys." Poor youth ! his short life had been sadly chequered ; he
had lost bis beautiful sisters, whom he had loved with proud and
passionate affection ; his beloved but wayward Willie lay, perhaps,
beneath the cold, blue wave, and last of all, his friend, his com-
panion, his more than brother, had been snatched from him.
While Robert moaned away his young life in the racking pains of
a quick consumption, James hung over him like a mother, nursing
him day aud night. His aunt soon observed that if sorrow had
robbed his cheek of its fullness, consumption was beginning to color
it with its hectic flushes. Tho soft hair lay damp against his
clammy brow. The tumid lips, the hurried respiration, and the
quick little cough, were unmistakable symptoms ; and besides all

• Dr. Miirroy. t Dr. Crolly. t Dr- Bliike. S Dr. Murphy.

I Dr. Coppinger, f Dr. Ryan. •* Dr. Ilaly. tt Dr. KinselU.

{t Dr. Cantwell. H Dr. Oriffiaiis. Now UU Etiiinonco Cardinal CuUen.

HUP

on the subject, tho

approbation of His
;i,ule was completed,
. not wish to ask a
d reduced it to prao-
0, a petition for con-
jrs of strong recom-
f Dublin,* the Lord
.shop§ of Cork, the
:k, the Bishop** of
,ry, the Bishopjt of
Rev. Father Colgan,
, gracious reply. He
in Kome some time
I spoke with Rev.
was in Dublin. He
Qly granted, but that
nents."

he Foundress at this
ined to endure She
last of her " earthly

sadly chequered ; he
loved with proud and
rd Willie lay, perhaps,
11, his friend, his com-

Buatched from him.
I the racking pains of
ike a mother, nursing
jd that if sorrow had
was beginninji; to color

lay damp against his
d respiration, and the
toms ; and besides all

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET,

891

$ Dr. Murphy.
+t Dr. Kinsells.
Eminonoo Cardinal CiiUen.

this, there was a sickness at the poor boy's heart, the loneliness of
one who had lost all he loved on earth. James, if he did not pos-
sess the talents of Robert, was gifted with the beauty of Mary
Teresa, and the attractive amiability of the "innocent, playful
Catherine." He was gentle as a little child. His aunt fondly
hoped that this last memento of her departed sister would be
spared her, but the hand of God was already on him. In October,
1840, she wrote to the Superioress of St. Leo's :

" My poor James is in an advanced stage of consumption. He
keeps the same way, but is, I suppose, getting nearer to eternity.
He is really pious, and wishes the priest to visit him frequently, ind
receives Holy Communion as often as persons in his state can.
The Sisters are with him every day. He is quite cheerful, and
speaks of his death most happily. This is a great consolation.
Continue to pray for him. My poor Robert's last wish was, that
the Sisters would always pray for his poor soul. I am with my
dear child as much as possible."

In December, 1840, she wrote to the same :

" We have a Sister in fever, another had three attacks of hemop-
tysis in one day, another has erysipelas. In the midst of all this, a
note from Sister M. Genevieve, saying : ' Come as fast as possible;
James is dying, and wants to see you.' My cough was greatly in-
creased by going, as the doors and windows had to be kept open
to give air to my poor boy. Tho weakness passed away. I fear
my child will have many such. He is in a heavenly state of mind,
always imploring God's forgiveness. Get all the prayers you can
for him. Thanks be to God, he is quite joyful. How good our
Lord is to him !"

In the next letter, dated March, 1841, she thus pathetically
describes the departure of the last of " her earthly joys" :

" My poor James* is in eternity. He died like a saint. Though

• A college friend of JemcB McAuIoy's, whom tho Foundresii describes as "a
very good young man," nnd wlio seems to linvo loved liia dying friend as
Jonathan loved David, insisted on stnyiug np with James every niglit for &oino
months before the death of the latter. Tliis ielf-conistitnted nurse fell a victim
to his cliarity and affection. No sooner was James laid bcaide Robert, than hia
friend either caught tlie disease or became sympiithetlcully affected, and in a
few weeks wai no more. This death greatly affected the Foundreu, for the boy
woi the only ton ^f hii mother, and she was a widow.

893

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

parched with thirst, he woald not take a drop of wnter without
making the sign of the cross, or suffer his pillow to be moved with-
out saying some little prayer. He never yiea impatient for five
minates, though for six months he was not up an entire day. He
received the Holy Viaticum every eight days, and lived to the last
eighth, so as to receive it two homrs before he died. He would not
allow the cmcifix to be removed from his bedside, even when his
ancle came. Tell all this to Dr. Fitzgerald. It will gratify him
to find that the pious Impressions he made did not pass away. Yon
will all pray fervently for my poor boy, I know. My earthly joys
are all cnt down now, thank God, but the joys of my state remain,
and I feel the most lively gratitude. I have nothing now to draw
me one hour from my Religious Sisters, in whom all my earthly
happiness is centered. Every year's experience of their worth
attaches me more strongly to them, and I am as ardent for new
ones as if I were only just beginning. I suppose it is the spirit of
my state, and all my first children have it."

The intense affection which Rev. Mother manifested in life, in
dea^h and after death, ^or her sister's children, may excite some
surprise. Towards them she was peculiarly placed. She became
at once their father and their mother. God used her as His in-
strument in drawing them to the Faith. They had spoiled bright
eai'ihly pros^iects in choosing her for their guardian. She had pro-
mised their dying mother to regard them as her own children. For
these reasons and others she felt bound to show them the greatest
affection — indeed, their gentleness and amiability quite won her ;
and their fidelity to the Catholic religion, under extraordinary
difficulties, excited her to revere them. She possessed immense
influence over them. WiUie was the only one that ever resisted
her ; and we have already related how soon and how bitterly he
bewailed his disobedience. Yet it was in God and for God that
she loved them : all her influence was exercised only for God's
greater glory. Deeply as she loved them, they never came be-
tween her and her duty. Catherine was dying when she left for
Cork, Robert when she left for London, James when she left foi'
Birr — ^yet she turned aside from their dying beds when God's will
culled her elsewhere ; and she did this so cheerfully that those who

KT.

LITE OF OATHEBINE MCAULET.

898

[) of wfiter without
' to be moved with-
s impatient for five
an entire day. He
ind lived to the last
led. He would not
side, even when his
It will gratify him
not pass away. Yon
w. My earthly joys
I of my state remain,
lothing now to draw
rhom all my earthly
nee of their worth
im as ardent for new
jose it is the spirit of

manifested in life, in
en, may excite some
Llaced. She became
d used her as His in-
ey had spoiled bright
wdian. She had pro-
er own children. For
ow them the greatest
ibility quite won her ;
under extraordinary
le possessed immense
me that ever resisted
and how bitterly he
od and for God that
■cised only for God's
they never came be-
ing when she left for
mes when she left foi"
beds when God's will
lerfuHy that those who

accompanied her could not perceive the least trace of the terrible
struggle it cost a heart like hers. One by one she resigned them
all to their Father in heaven, freely, nay joyfully, though with a
bursting heart ; and if she bent over their fair young forms, beau-
tiful even in death, and performed the last offices for them, and
chanted requiems for their disembodied spirits, with a tearless eye
and serene countenance, it wap becausij her agony was too deep
for tears, though her heart coucurred with her pen in writing,
" My earthly joys are all cut down, thank God." She could
hardly step over the prostrate body of an only son, as did the
heroic widow of Dijon.* L'ie St. Bernard, however, she brought
the dearest of her relations to the cloister with herself, and them
all to the true Church ; und if in secret the tears gushed from her
soft, blue eye, her children remembered that " Jesus wept" over
his friend, and they could say with the Jews — " Behold how she
loved them." But well they knew that His will was dearer to her
than all else — that she " loved Him as well wheu He took as when
He gave," though the tear glistens in her eye when she recalls the
oCfering.

But to resume the history of the foundations :

A Convent of Mercy was opened in Naas in 1839. Its pro-
gress was for a time very slow, as Mother McAuley pleasantly re-
marks, thus : " Poor Naas is like the little chicken called creepy-
Crawley in a healthy clutch. It has been a little martyrdom to
my poor Sister M. Josephine, so mnch to be done and so few to do
it. I wish it would take a start." In time it realized her most
sanguine expectations, but a circumstance occurred in connection
with it, towardi the end of 1840, which drew from Reverend
Mother the severest letter she ever wrote. The circumstances
were these :

A lady entering St. Mary's, whose friends in Naas wished her to

* The fortitnde of St. Jane Frances looks too superhuman to edifj every one.
Thus her countryman, Lamartino, says something to this effect ; " M. la B*-
ronn«. de Chantal is regarded as patroness of the Visitation Order, but she
never oau he considered the patroness of niotlicrs and orphans." {VU d*
Madame dt Sevigni.) Monsieur le Comte does not seem to have read the
•aint's life very carefully.

IT*

^11

894

LIFE OF CATnJi-iilNE MCAULET.

enter Naas Convent, the latter undertook to induce her to Icare
Ba^got-strcet, the Pastor engaging to help them, and the Supe-
rioress consenting by her silence to the dishonorable proceeduig.
Mother McAuley, who waa the qnintescence of honor and nprighb»
ncss, was deeply pained on learning this. She would rather that
a hundred postulants «ere lost to the Order, than that one of its
members should use Jinesae in the most trivial matter. As soon
as she saw through the affair, she offered to send the young lady
to Naas, but the latter did not wish to go there. She then wrote
as follows to the young Superioress :

" St. John's, Birb, February 14, 1841.

" I have seldom heard anything more extraordinary than your
expectation of gettiug a Sister who was never spoken to on the
subject till she heard that Father Doyle had come for her. I was
not aware that she or her friends ever heard there was a Convent
in Naas. Had the least intimation been made to me, she would
never have been admitted here; of this you may rest assured. But
how couM such arrangements take place without communication
with you ? The Sister laughs at it, and says she thought the Su-
perioress was the uerson to act on such occasions. She was edu-
cated in a Convent, and knows how business of this kmd ought to
be transacted. Worldly persons can never arrange the affairs of B«-
ligious. I am much distressed, dear Sister, to hear yon say, ' I
wrote to you, but just at that time I got the painful intelligence of
my Sister, which absorbed all my thoughts since.' All jour
thoughts ? I hope not, my dear Sister ; that would be a very
bad way to make Religious houses flourish, or advance the work
Of God

" Earnestly wishing you all the graces and blessings of this holy
seucon, I remain," etc., etc.

This cold, almost bitter letter, comes strangely enough from the
sweet, gracious Foundress; but anything that savored of duplicity
she could never understand or tolerate in a Religious. At the
very time she wrote the above, she sent to Limerick a letter which
has this passage : "I feel very much for my poor dear Sister M.
Josephine, she was so fondly attached to her sister." " Easy to

•WMP*'

uce ber to leare
n, and tto Supe-
rable proceeding,
onor and upright-
rould rather that
,n that one of its
matter. As soon
Qd the young lady
, She then wrote

trnary 14, 1841.
)rdinary than your
spoken to on the
me for her. I was
ere was a Convent

to me, she would
r rest assured. Bat
out communication
ke thought the Su-
ras. She was edu-

this kind ought to
ge the affairs of Re-
) hear you say, ' I
jnful intelligence of

since.' All your
t would be a vtry

r advance the work

essings of this holy

ily enough from the
lavored of duplicity
Religious. At the
lerick a letter which
)Oor dear Sister M.
sister." "Easy to

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

895

forgive," she took the earliest opportunity of visiting Naas, to
show how entirely she was appeased, and to ease the mind of the
poor Superioress.

Wexford Convent, St. Michael's, \\as founded in 1840, at the
request of the Bishop of Ferns, Dr. Keating, and Very Rev. Fa-
ther Lacy. Besides attending to the more spiritual wants of the
new houses, Reverend Mother used to purchase for them what
could not be easily procured in country towns, as materials for
veils and '..^Mts, etc., the house at which she used to deal in Dub-
lin always sending to Baggot-street, whenever she desired it, pieces
from which she might select what best suited. Sending a piece of
veiling to Wexford, she gives an amusing extract from a speech of
O'Connell'd :

" While providing for the head, do not forget the poor feet, to
which the Repealer thus called attention at a public dinner lately
given him in Carrick-on-Suir :

" ' No country on the face of the earth is like Ireland. Look at
the fairest portion of creation, educated and possessing all the vir-
tues that adorn and endear life, forsaking their homes and families,
and friends — entering a convent in the morning of then* days, to
devote long lives to piety and the promotion of virtue. Look at
the Sisters of Mercy (hear, hear), wrapped in their long, black
cloaks. They are seen gliding along the streets in their humble
attire, while a slight glance at the foot shows the accomplished
lady. (Cheers.) Thus they go forth, not for amusement or de-
light ; no. They are hastening to the lone couch of some sick
fellow-creature, fast sinking into the grave, with none to comfort,
none to soothe ; they come with love and consolation, and by their
prayers, bring down the blessings of God on the dying sinner, on
themselves, and on their country. (^ Great cheering.) Oh, such a
country is too good to continue in slavery. (Immense cheering.)' "

" This afforded great amusement hero, each claiming for her own
foot the tribute of praise."

No wonder that, when the Foundress read this speech at recre-
ation, there was plenty of laughing. How Dan. contrived to give
" a glance at the foot," they could hardly imagine, f(\r the " long,
black cloaks" neither " began too late, nor ended too soon ;" bat

396

LIFB OP cathbrute mcaulkt.

how he conld read " the accomplished lady" in the homely foot-
gear, embroidered with the rich metropolitau mud, which clings
heavily and gratefully to all who tread the lanes and alleys of
Dublin, was a problem, the solution of which is, that O'Conuell
was an Irishman of the old stamp, and as such, could not mention
ladies, religious or secular, without paying a compliment.

The following little passage shows that Mother McAuley's zeal
extended to every thing connected with the Order, nor did she
thuik any thing so trifling as to be beneath her notice : \- ,>>

" Sister M. Teresa takes a paper daily to look at arrivals at
hotels, &c., (in order to seek work for poor girls from the Catholic
nobility, &c.) She pointed out to me a paragraph annoancmg the
arrival of Sisters of Oharity in Wexford. I immediately sent the
following correction, which will appear to-morrow :

"SISTERS OF MKBCT.

" The belovsd and venerated Dr, Keating, Cathohc Bishop of
Ferns, has brought a branch of this Order to the town of Wexford,
from the flourishing establishment in Carlow."

Some time after, one of her convents met with a two-fold loss,
that of a promised subject and of a liberal benefactress. A lady
who had been most generous to the convent we allude to, had de-
cided on entering, and even went to Dublin to make conclusive ar-
rangements. Daring her stay at Kingstown, whither she repaired
to recruit her health, she became acquainted with a gentleman con-
siderably her junior, whose wealth consisted in a dashing appear-
ance, high blood, a light pm-se, and an unconquerable objection to
every thing vulgar, especially eammg his bread. This acquaint-
ance ripened into friendship, on one side at least. When very wise
people become foolish, it is generally on a large scale. The young
gentleman soon gained so complete an ascendancy over the fair
spinster, that, the day before the marriage, persuading her that
the rough work of looking after real estate was ill-saited to so line
a lady, he induced her to settle nearly all her property on him.
A few days after, he informed her that his ' affairs' requured his
presence in London. A scene took place. He went next morn-
ing, but foi-got to return. His wife had the pleasure of sending

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

le homely foot-
d, which clings
3 and alleys of
that O'Conuell
lid not mention
iment.

McAuley's zeal
er, nor did she
tice :

t at arrivals at
rom the Catholic
i announcing the
lediately sent the

the bulk of her income every year to be sqaandered in the gam-
bling-houses and race-courses of England. Once when she refused
to do this, he coolly told her, that, in case she delayed payments,
his lawyers had instructions to commence proceedings against her.
The poor lady knew that, however dishonest the conduct of her
juvenile spouse wa". it ^as perfectly legal. None pitied her more
sinfierely than Rev. inuJi-"", who could never see the wisdom of
censuring people when '* the harm was done," while she regretted
that, by this ill-starred union, the Sisters lost a benefactress able
and willing to assist them in their charitable undertakings. But
Qod raised up other friends for them, that his poor might meet
with no loss.

itholic Bishop of
;own of Wexford,

a two-fold loss,
factress. A lady |
allude to, hadde-
ike conclusive ar-
ither she repaired
a gentleman con-
dashing appear-
rable objection to
This acquaint-
When very wise
scale. The young
ancy over the fair
rsuacUng her that
ill-suited to so fine
property on him.
iffau-s' requured his
B went next mom-
leasure of sending

tnMm

CHAPTER XXXVIII. ^..

Declining health of the FcundresB. — The English SiHterg. — Letter of the
Bishop of Birminghani. — Bishop Wiseman. — The Bishop of Liverpool.^
jiliBs O — - , of Eaton House. — Kenowal of tlie Liverpool negotintions. — Let-
ter of D/. Youens.— Dr. Pusey,— Conflrraation of the Kule.— The Bincing-
ham Foundation.

IN the spring of 1841, it became evident that Rev. Mother was
not long for this world. All her old complaints attacked her ;
and the cough, previously only an occasional visitant, scarcely ever
left her. " Her face was as of one going to Jeiasalem ;" already it
reflected the rays of brightness that emanate from the Eternal Sun
of Justice, who is the light of that distant promised land. The
Sisters, whom she called her " kind tortoentors," entreated her to
try change of air ; but she replied, by repeating her favorite lines;

" Ne'er quitted but to Bolace man,
Ne'er entered but to worship God."

&he had never yet gone beyond her cloister for purposes of health
or recreation — it was hardly likely she would do so now. " I must
■wait for change of air," she wrote, " till May, when I have in view
another toilsome journey to Birr. It would not stand without aid.
I had the kindest of notes yesterday from Father Mathew, God
bless him ! He fixed Ascension Day for the ceremony. Pour
here are preparing to play and sing, all possible excitement being
required."

In the same letter she informs her correspondent that she has
sent the Mistress of Novices on a visit, and, ill as she was herself,
she took, for the time, the direction of the Novices in addition to
her other duties.

" Sister M. Cecilia is gone to Birr. She was very weak, and
bad some complaints similar to the last poor Sister Frances had ;

'"-'■-'■'■'."F*"*'^

LIFE OP CATHERINE MOAULET.

899

rg.— Letter of tli«
lop of Liverpool.—
. iicgotiiitionB. — Let-
:ule.— Tbe Blriring-

Rev, Mother was
Qt8 attacked her ;
»nt, scarcely ever
salem ;" already it
n the Eternal Sun
)mised land. The
' entreated her to
her favorite lines;

purposes of health
, BO now. " I must
hen I have in view
stand without aid.
her Mathew, God
J ceremony. Four
} excitement being

adent t'uat she has
as she was herself,
vices in addition to

ms very weak, and
ilstcr Frances had ;

it being the same period of the year, we became a little snpersti*
tionsly affected — a favorable opportunity offered, and I sent her.
As we had designed she should go there to assist at the ceremony,
I had not much difficulty to surmount — all have strong objections
to move merely for health. She Is better, but still weak. I fear
she will never be strong. I am now a very busy woman, minding
my Novices. Our English Sisters edify us greatly. They give
unquestionable evidence of a real desire to understand perfectly the
obligations of the religions state, and to enter into its true spirit.
I look forward to my journey to Birmingham with fear and trem-
bling. The Sisters for that foundation continue to be all that we
desire. Not a doubtful one among them. Pray, and get all the
prayers yon can, that God may bring us well through this business.
His Divine aid alone can. I am greatly perplexed about a Su-
perior." *

At the suggestion of Dr. Wiseman,* wb< kindly offered to
preach on the occasion, and with the full approval of the Arch-
bishop, the venerable Bishop of Birmingham was invited to St.
Mary's, to receive the profession of his future children. To this
invitation he kindly acceded, and he thus concludes bis courteoos
letter :

" I shall have great pleasure, indeed, in receiving the vows of
my dear daughters in Jesus Christ, and the more so as I have a
beautiful convent, the admiration of all who see it, furnished with
every reqiiisite, ready for them to commence their works of mercy."

Archbishop Murray, on reading this very courteous letter, re-
marked that was " a high honor to all concerned."

The greatest possible interest was manifested in the Institute by
the English bishops and priests. Right Rev. Dr. Brown wrote for
a colony, but the Foundress was obliged to refuse, because she had
not a single Sister to spare that was not already destined for pre-
vious applicants. The following letter from a wealthy and pious
lady of Lancashire reached St. Mary's just as Reverend Mother
had declined, for the present, to undertake the Liverpool foun-
dation ■.

* Lftte Cardinal WinemAU.

■■^t"""^

^■*^^**i-!t,,. ,»..«»*^. ;

400

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

"Dear and Respkcted Mother: > .- ■

" I take the liberty of addressing )oa as a child, to beg a faroi
which I hare long wished for, of being really admitted as one
among your community. I deferred writing until I could take this
decisive step, and now the consent of ny parents enables me to
do so. I think you know the difficulty I hare had in obtaining
this, being the only daughter with them, and how mnch I feel ieav*
ing my present happy home ; but I hare long had a strong desire
to dedicate myself to God in the admirable Order of Our Lady
of Mercy, and I think I have met with snfBclent trials f o prove
that this desire comes from the Almighty, and from a conviction
that it is in that state I shall meet with the most abundant means
for working out my eternal salvetion. It is with the advice of my
Director that I now humbly beg to be admitted a postnlante
in yo!^r honsc. I know I have many, many faiults. I have so
long followed my own will and inclinations, that, no doubt, my idle
habits will repine at a life of continual activity, but I trust our
good God will give me grace proportioned to my necessities. I
feel determined to make every effort in my power to become a true
spouse of Christ, and prove my gratitude for the inestimable grace
of a religious vocation. I cannot tell exactly the time when I shall
be able to leave home.

" Should I be allowed to spend u year and a half or two years
in the noviceship of your house, with the intention of retaming to
England at the end of that time ? I fuel very dcsirons of doing
what little good I can in my own country, where I see instroctioa
and good example so mnch needed, but I do not wish to bind my-
self to any place. I certainly should like very much to go to Bi^
mingham, but I should be sorry to relinquish the advantage of
passing my whole novitiate with you, and I cnnnot tell what estab-
lishments may be founded in my own district meanwhile.

•' But above all, I desire to be guided by what you consider most
advisable for me, and for the advancement of God's honor and
glory. Papa will pay any sum required during my novitiate, and
the usual portion to the house at which I am to be professed.
Perhaps you will be good enough to say what that is, when yon
write ; aluo, if there is anything you wish ma to bring. Sister {

LIPB OP CATHERINE MCAULEY.

Id, to beg a favoi

admitted as one

I could take this

its enables me to

had in obtaining

r much I feel ieav-

id a strong desire

•der of Our Lady

it trials to prove

from a conviction

t abundant means

1 the advice of my

itted a postulante

faults. I have so

, no doubt, my idle

r, but I trust owr

my necessities. I

5r to become a true

e inestimable grace

10 time when I shall

half or two years
ion of returning to
y desirous of doing
ere I see instruction
•t wish to bind my-
much to go to Bi^
\i the advantage of
mot tell what eatab-
leanwhile.

at you consider most
)f God's honor and
ig my novitiate, and

am to be professed,
it that is, when yoa
na to bring. Sister I

Juliana will bo able to tell yon anything about me which I may
have omitted.

" May I beg of you, dear Mother, and your charitable, holy
community, to remember me sometimes in your prayers. I feel
that I stand in need of them under the present trying parting. I
trust, if I leave all those dearest to me on earth, it is to do God's
will, and to attach myself more closely to Him, while I hope to
meet them in a far better world, never more to be separated.
" Believe me, Reverend Mother,

" With sincerest respect,

" Your most obedient child,

"Fanny G .*

"Eaton Hall, Lancashire, March 26, 1841."

The Foundress was greatly pleased with this letter, the penman*
ship cf which is very beautiful. The young lady arrived in a few
days, and was regarded as the beginning of the Liverpool founda-
tion. Her letter is endorsed in the cramped writing of Mother
McAuley : " Sister Fanny is as nice as her letter ; a docile, affec-
tionate creature, all alive and delighted with her duties, highly ac-
complished, and as humble as if she entered for a Lay Sister. She
is a real treasure."

Reverend Mother, with that beautiful urbanity which hcroio
charity produced in her, used to go a little way with everybody.
She could be a merchant with a merchant, a divine with a divine,
a poet with a poet, a physician with a physician, but it was only
with O'Connell that she became ever so little of the politician.
Now, she knew that this grct t champion of the Church was highly
pleased to see ladies of the highest rank in England, coming to
learn the alphabet of the spiritual life in what he delighted to call
" the finest country on the face of the earth." Hence, whenever
an application of the . above nature reached her, she always in-
formed the Liberator, who was a frequent visitor at St. Mary's.
On reading the above letter, he remarked : " Miss Fanny will per
severe — she will never repine in Gcd's service." Ho was right.

The Bishop of Liverpool wrote again to Baggot-street, and sent

ran

402

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

Dr. Yoaens, his Vicar-General, to urge the Fonndrcsa to giTS him
a colony. Eager to oblige his lordship, and jet nnable of " stones
to raise up children," she offered to procure a few Sisters from some
house in the provinces ; but he desired that Religious trained di-
rectly by herself shoold, if possible, be obtained. As this could
not be done, and as the matter was still pressed, she wrote to Very
Kcv. Dr. Youens as follows :
"Respected and Very Reverend Father:

" I this day received a letter from my dear Sister Warde, of
Carlow, speaking of your intended Institute, and of the arrange-
ments she intended to make if called upon ; and they seem to me
exceedingly good. She makes me perfectly understand the Sisters
she designed to give, who are truly desirable. Some of them
would, I thiak, bring the usual portion. Indeed, all she proposes,
Reverend Sir, far exceeds what we could do; and I am now as ar-
dent as my youthful Sister, praying and trusting that the good
work will not be frustrated. Very little preparation would be l. i-
cessary on your part, dear Father, and we might sail together for
Birmingham and Liverpool. I have been speaking with Sister
Fanny J , and find that she would go at once with the Liver-
pool foundation. , '"'

" Recommending myself to your charitable remembrance, ''^'

" I remain," etc., etc.

His reply, dated July 30th, 1841, is as follows:
" I received your letter, and also one from Father Maher mclosing
one from Mrs. Warde. At the moment these letters arrived I was
preparing to write to you, as I had just returned from a journey to
Lancaster and Wild Bank, where I had been to confer with his
lordship and the Qrand Vicar on the subject of a convent After
describing how much I was delighted and edified by all I saw in
Carlow, his lordship's conclusion was, that he intended to treat
with the mother house, and he desired me to write to Ireland to
that effect. Just as I was about to execute this order, the letters
arrived from Ireland. I must again confer with the Bishop before
I can give a conclusive answer."
" Dr. Youens requests that I will write again before he sees tbo

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEf.

403

rc88 to give him
lable of '• stones
istersj from some
gious trained di-
Ae this could
le wrote to Very

Sister Warde, of
of the arrange-
they seem to me
rstand the Sisters
Some of them
, all she proposes,
i I am now as ar-
ng that the good
ition would be n >-
t sail together for
aking with Sister
ce with the Liver-

uembrance,
c, etc.

jer Maher mclosing
jtters arrived I was
i from a journey to
to confer with his

a convent After
ied by all I saw in

intended to treat
write to Ireland to
lis order, the letters
h the Bishop before

n before he sees tha

Bishop," says Mother McAuIey. '' I shall be obliged to state
that we have no colony to give. If his lordship had any consnlta
lion with Dr. Griffiths, of London, and Dr. Walsh, of Birmingham,
they would endeavor to impress him with the feeling that establish-
meuts in England ought to be made from the chiei, or mother
lionse in Ireland."

Dr. Youens did not seem to think bis Bishop's answer conclnsivc,
and wrote again and again to urge the bueincss. His lordship,
who had gone to the Isle of Wight in delicate health, begged of
Mother McAuley to await his next decision, which was slow in
coming. " These good Bishops," said she, " take their own time
to consider every little circumstance, and those who are inclined to
be impatient, like myself, had just as well make up their minds to
wait."

Ycry Rev. Dean Qaffney consented to conduct the August re-
treat this year, but as he became suddenly ill, this important duty
devolved on the Foundress herself, who, when asked by one of the
Sisters what Father would replace the Dean, pleasantly replied,
" Father McAuley, my dear." And well she knew how to stimu-
late the weary, encourage the weak, and keep up the fervor of the
fervent. She dwelt chiefly on those parts of our Lord's teaching
best calculated to excite gratitude and love, thus to expand the
soul with a generous desire of making every possible return for
such unmerited goodness. And she made her children clearly un-
derstand that the end of spiritual as of corporal refection, is not
to rest in the indulgence of it. not to seek it for its sweetness only,
but to invigorate the soul, and to become more capable of glorify-
ing Qod by performing more efficiently the duties of our state.
Those who assisted at tliis retreat were favored indeed. It was the
last time that Mother McAuley led her little flock into the desert,
as she would say, to gain new strength for the coming year.

She was now far gone in consumption, but " suffer and be si-
lent" had ever been her motto and her practice. In reply to the
repeated queries of a spiritual child, she writes :

" I am sorry to find by your letter that they are saying too
much about my loss of health. My rather new visitant, a cough,
has been with me very constantly. To please my kind tormentors

mmm

401

LIFE OP CATHERINE M^ AULET.

I took a large bottle of medicine, and put on a blister, from which,
for want of faith, perhaps, I did not receive any benefit. I am
now doctoring myself as I doctored my Mary Teresa — warm flan-
nel, barley water, a little h ppo at night ; and I think, Mr. Time
taken mto account, I am doing very well. I am now hiding from
the doctor, who is gone np to four influenza patients. When I re-
turned from my last journey. Father O'Hanlon exclaimed, as he
entered the parlor, ' Oh, my dear, how well you look, thank
God I' By this you will see that he does not urge change of
air."

The last gleam of comfort vouchsafed her on earth, was the joy-
ful intelligence of the confirmation of the Rules and Constitntions>
which reached her July, 1841, though not officially communicated
for some weeks later. This speedy confirmation excited universal
surprise, the Order not being yet ten years old. " How was it ob-
tained ?" was the question heard on all sides. Certainly, many
kind friends of the Institute, in Rome and elsewhere, used their in-
fluence in its favor, but greater efforts had been made, and made
nnsuccessfully, to obtain the confirmation of other Orders. Apart
from the will of Him who holds in His hands the hearts of pope^
as well as of kings, we may venture to conjecture one cause of this
speedy recognition : that Church which regards the poor as her
treasures, and which commands emperors and kings to celebrate the
festivals of beggars and slaves, could not long withhold its sanction
ftom an Order specially devoted to the poor.

In August, the Sisters for Birmingham were professed. Several
distinguished persons came from England to witness the ceremony,
among whom were Dr. Pusey, the celebrated Hebrew Professor of
Oxford, and his accomplished daughter. He spoke much of illu-
minated works, and expressed himself greatly pleased with the ex-
quisite specimens of the ancient Church art of illumination exe-
cuted by the Sisters of St. Mary's ; so much so, that Reverend
Mother expresses great regret in a letter, because she had not the
. Baggot-street Register, then loaned to Carlow, and which is a pe^
feet gem of that art, to show him.

News reaching Dublin that Mr. Hardmau, who had built and
endowed tao convent in Birmingham, was dying, this impelled the

i»

LIFE OF OATHBBINE M^AULEr.

405

lister, from which,
ly bonefit. I am
.f(^ga — warm flan-
: think, Mr. Time
1 now hiding from
>nt3. When I re-
exclaimed, as he
yoa look, thank
)t arge change of

arth, was the joy-
and Constitutions*
ally communicated
I excited universal
" How was it ob-
. Certainly, many
here, used their in-
n made, and made
ier Orders. Apart
the hearts of popes
PC one cause of this
is the poor as her
ings to celebrate the
withhold its sanction

professed. Several
itncss the ceremony,
Sebrcw Professor of
spoke much of illu-
pleased with the ex-
of illumination exe-
h so, that Reverend
luse she had not the
r, and which is a per-

, who had built and
ng, this impelled the

Foundress to hasten the departure of the missioners, that his child,
Sister M. Juliana Hardmau, might arrive In time to soothe his last
moments. Sister M. Cecilia Marmioa was appointed temporary
Superior of this colony. In the following letter the Foundress al-
ludes to her : — ,»

" Sister M. Cecilia, you know, is a general favorite. Perhaps
there never was a more beloved Mistress of Novices. They call
the noviceship ' Paradise,' though the best discipline is kept up.
Iler going will make it easier for any novice or postnlante to be
removed, and will be another great blow to poor Baggot-street,
which has already passed through so many sorrows. Dean Gaff-
ney saw Mr. Hardman in his bed. He said if he lived only an
hour after our arrival he would be happy. The whole family have
been such generous friends, that Bishop Walsh writes to Dr. Mur*
ray begging there may not be any more delay. Young Mr. Hard-
man gave fifteen hundred pounds for the Cathedral, and purchased
an organ, at the expense of five hundred and fifty pounds, for the
Convent. The Dean promised the good old father that he would
bring him his nice child, and he sails with us on Friday.

" Poor Sister Fanny G had a sorrowful letter coming out of

retreat. She is a delicate ci'cature, and looks as thin as a ghost,
since she read the sad communication. As a source of great con-
solation, I have promised to take her to England. She will see
her poor, afflicted parents ; and her father, seeing his very sweet
child in the Religious dress, may be inspired to do for Liverpool
what Mr. Hardman has done for Birmingham."

Who will say that the wrijter of the last sentence had not a large
share of the prudence of the serpent ?

" Her spirit willing" to do great things for God, though her
" flesh was weak," and " the time of her dissolution at hand," she
set out fot Birmingham, not in fear and trembling, as she had an-
ticipated, but with the most lively joy, for she felt that once re-
turned, she would not leave St. Mary's again. In its little cem-
etery she would soon repose, among the precious remains of the
Sisters she loved so well, till the last trumpet should summon her
to hear her well-merited doom : " Come ye blessed of My Pal her,
possess the Kingdom prepared for you. For I was hungry, and

406

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

jou gave Me to cat. I was thirsty, and you gave Me to drink ;
naked, and you covered Me ; sick, aud you visited Mu. I was in
prison, and you came to Me. Amen, amen, I say to you ; as long
as you did it to one of these. My least brethren, you did it to me."

A little before her departure for Birmingham, she received a
pressing Invitation to try Carlow air, which Dr. Fitzgerald de-
clared would exhilarate and strengthen her. She returned this
noble answer, worthy of the whole life of Catherine McAuley :

" It would be delightful to me to accept your kind invitation to
St. Leo's, but thmk of all that must be left behind. They would
feel it very much, indeed. It is quite impossible for one in my
situation to think of pleasing herself. My pleasure must ever
consist in endeavoring to please all."

In a letter dated Birmingham, September, she says :

" We got here about four, Saturday evening, and had scarcely
time to change our dress, when we were summoned to the choir,
where the Right Rev. Dr. Wiseman, in full pontificals, recited the
Te Deum, said a few animating words, and concluded with a fer-
vent prayer for the aid of Almighty God. Tlie convent a ')eau,.-
ful, and fully furnished for twenty Sisters. Mr. Pngin would not
permit cloth of any kind on the parlors. We have rash chairs
and oak tables, and all is so admirable and religious, that no want
can be felt. The building cost but three thousand pounds. I
would say six without hesitation. We were most happily cu*cam-
Btanced while travelling, nine of us. Father O'Hanlon came with
us. Dean Qaffney was our angel guardian, and Dr. Brown, ^ishop
of Eilmore, who is going to Leamington — ^not one stranger amongst
us. The convent bell weighs a hundred and fifty pounds. It is
hard work to ring it. The ceiling of the choir is very beautiful,
the walls all blue and gold. The stained glass windows have
Merct in every type and character over them. Indeed, we may
say we are surrounded with Merct.

"Old Mr. Hardman, whose death was expected, has rallied
wonderfully. They are a most holy family."

Bat we must now leave the Foundress in Birmingham, and relate
some events passing south of it, painfully interesting to her and
her Institute.

e Me to drink ;
1 Mo. I was in
to you ; as long
'ou did it to me."
1, she received a
r. Fitzgerald de-
she returned this
ine McAuley :
kind invitation to
ind. They would
le for one in my
^asure must ever

says :

and had scarcely
)ned to the choir,
itificals, recited the
.eluded with a fer-
« convent is ')eau--
, Pugin would not
have rush chairs
;ious, that no want
)usand pounds. I
jst happily circum-
Haulon came with
Dr. Brown, Bishop
e stranger amongst
Bfty pounds. It is
if is very beautiful,
lass' windows have
Indeed, we may

ipected, has ralUed

mingham, and relate
eresting to her and

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Botiirn of the London SuperioreBS.— Innovations and roformationg.— Unfkvor-
sblu Report by an £ngligh priest. — Very Kev. Dr Batter congratulates him-
self on being independent of "borrowed plv nes." — Sto'-iy nationality. —
Forbearr>nco of the Foundress. — Visions.— Bishop Baines. — " Where Paul
and I differ." — The lady who has had the visions secedes.— She goes to Rome.
—Is protected by Cardinals Acton and Frnnsone. — Sho gives her revelations
in a Catholic novel.— The "Solitaires" and "Handmaids" disperse.— Their
projector writes another story. — Why did she leave na f

IN June, 1841, Mother McAuley had the consolation of seeing
her "beloved old companion. Sister M. Clare," whom Dr.
Butler accompanied to Dublin, where Bishop Murphy received her.
" The Bishop of Cork met her here," writes the Foundress, " and
is quite proud of her return. He sayii she must come home di-
rectly, and adds, what I have no recoKection of, that I promitied
to let the other S. M. Clare go to Cork, to do some wonderful
things for him. So our artist* goes, too. He made it imperative,
and I dare not venture to contend with his lordship."

As Rev. Mother predicted, a change in the government of the
London House proved dangerous, indeed ; but God, who watched
o?cr its interests, protected it. And though the new Superioress
was the medium through which innovations were attempted, the
community, in general, were faithful to their vocation, as Sisters of
Mercy, and anxious to maifttain the spirit of their Rule, which had
just received the highest sanction, that of the Vicar of Christ.

To. reform an Order is an ungracious work even for a Saint; and
such as hare been inspired to accomplish so gigantic an undertak-
ing, have usually been endowed with uncommon gifts of grace and
nature. But reformation simply means the restoration of primitive
fervor, the keeping of the rules aid observances kept in the days of

* " Our artist :" a Sister wlio painted and illumlDated beautifully.

408

LIFE OF CATHEBmE HCAULET.

the fonnder. No Order is warranted in aspiring to more than this,
no Superior has a right to enforce more, no subject is obliged to
obey when more is enforced. " Oh, golden age of Romnald !"
sighs a Camaldolese writer; he knows he can aspire to nothing
higher. But the Order of Mercy was still in its infancy, still In its
" golden age." If any of its members had " inspirations," snch in*
epirations ought to agree with, or, at least, not contradict the
Rules and Constitation just confirmed by the Holy See. Should
doubts as to their interpretation arise, the Foandress was still
living, and she whom the Church described as " most religious,"*
would surely be able, ex officio, to clear them up. Innovations
were not to be tolerated, for deviations from the will of the Foan-
dress, as expressed in the rules she wrote, and the observances she
established, cannot be considered otherwise than as deviations from
the will of Him who inspired her: God will not contradict His
Church, for this would be to contradict Himself. And though the
visions which impel any person to innovate upon or change the
Rules confirmed by the Church and the observances by which the
Foundress interprets these Rules, may be very specious, the re-
ceiver ought to remember that Satan can transform himself into an
angel of light. In this case, the Religious who had " visions" pro-
posed the establishment of perpetual adoration, while the duties
already impo^ied by the Rule which says, " the Sisters are continu-
ally employed in the spiritual and corporal wor" s of mercy," did
not give leisure for more spiritual exercises than those observed
from the beginning. The ingenious visionary also suggested that
the Sisters should be permitted to follow their respective attraUi^
as they might happen to incline to action or contemplation, but the
Rule said : " The daily duties are the same for all ; the manner of |
performing them alone distinguishes one from the other."

Yisions from God are discerned to be such by direct superiors, i
especially the Confessor, the Bishop, and, in case of a Religious, the
Foundress or her successors. But here, though all three were
versed in the theory and practice of high spirituality, the Bishop
vetoed the proposed "improvements" at once; the Confessor, in a I

* Kelif^osissimss prffisertim fcniioB Catharinn MooAuIey studio fun(UU.—
J)taretum.~Sor0ruM itMritordim,

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

409

more than this,
5ct is obliged to
B of Romualdl"
apire to nothing
infancy, still in ita
)irations," such in-
it contradict the
[olySee. Should
mndreas was still
'most religious,"*
up. Innovations
, will of the Foun-
be observances she
as deviations from
not contradict His
'. And though the
ipon or change the
ranees by which the
ry specious, the re-
form himself into an
) had "visions" pro-
)n, while the duties
Sisters areconttnu-
or* s of mercy," ^d
.ban those observed
r also suggested that
r respective cUtraits,
)ntemplation, bat the
,r all ; the manner of
the other."

by direct superiors,
aeofaReUgious,the|

lOugh aU three were
drituality, the Bishop
the Confessor, in a
jAuley rtudio fuiMtato.-

little time, suspected delusion, and speedily acted on his suspicions;
and the Foundress, whose humility made her shrink from giving
her opinion as to the more supernatural part of the affair, said
quite enough in these few words : " Sister A is given to ex-
tremes in matters of piety — that is her greatest error."

How any person of understanding and piety could attempt to
change the rules and observances of an Order just confirmed by
the Holy See, and whose Foundress was still living, is a marvel.
For such a person must have known that her subjects' were not
only not obliged to obey her in this, but positively obliged to diso-
liey her. For every command of a Superior, in order to be obliga- '
tory on the subject, must be accompanied by three conditions : 1.
It must be not sinful, for Qod does not give any one authority to
command what is opposed to His service. 2. It must be good in
itself, or at least an indifferent thing imposed for a good object.
3. It must be not only good, but conformable to rule. Hence, if
the Superior commands a thing opposed to the rule, or above the
rule, that is, more rigorons than the rule, or below the rule, that is,
less rigorous than the rule, the subject is not bound to obey. This
is the doctrine of approved writers on the subject. " Let the com-
mand of the Superior," says St. Bernard, " keep within the limits
of my profession ; let it neither rise higher nor sink lower; let him
not hinder the accomplishment of what I have promised, but let
hira demand nothing more of me; let him add nothing without my
consent, and let him diminish nothing without great necessity."*
And the same Saint, speaking of commands in which Superiors ex-
ceed their authority, says, that if we were obliged to this kind of
obedience, it was useless for the Apostle to say, "Prove all
things, and hold to what is good;" and that we onght to efface
from the Gospel the words, " Be prudent as serpents," if thoso
which follow them, " Be simple as doves," suffice.f

The authority of the Superior being always limited by the estab-
lished rules and observances, she to obliged to enforce these, as she

* " Preloti joAsio rel prohibitio uon pmtereac termiaos profeuionia," etc. —
J>* Pt<»<!tp. tt ditptnt, c 8.

t Bern. Epist. 7. /"

wmm

410

LIFE or CATHERINE MCAULBT.

is obliged to observe them, but can neither add to nor sabtract
from them.

Now all this the lady to whom we refer mast have known, or at
least must have learned in her novitiate. The very terms of her
TOW of obedience, which was made ^'according to the approved
Hide and Constitutions of her Order,^' must have taaght her
this. And probably had she not had " visions," she had never at-
tempted innovation. •;. K .

Bat even this was not enough; if the direct Superiors do not m-
cognize the inspiration, taere is ordinarily no obligation to act on
it, and it could not in her case bo acted on without their consent.

But, if the ordinary director do not recognize the inspiration,
another may be more lenient ; and, by a strange fatality, poor
human nature usually prefers what best accords with the ideas
suggested, naturally or snpematurally, though not necessarily
divinely.

The brilliant Cardinal Wiseman gives this comprehensive glance
at the late Bishop Baines :

" He had a power of fascinating all who approached him, in
spite of a positive tone and manner which scarcely admitted of dif-
ference from him in opinion. He had sometimes original views on
a certain class of subjects ; but on every topic he had a command
of language, and a clear manner of expressing his sentiments,
which commanded respect, and generally won assent. Hence, his
acquaintances were always willing listeners, and soon became sin-
cere admirers, then warm partisans. Unfortunately, this proved to
him a fatal gift. Assent to his plans was the condition of being
near him : any one that did not agree, or that ventured to suggest
deliberation, or provoke discussion, was soou at a distance. He
isolated himself with his own genius ; he had no counsellor but
himself ; and he, who had at one time surrounded himself with
men of learning, of pmdence, and of devotedness to him, found
himself at last alone, and fretted a noble heart to a solitary
death."* -: .;J™-„-.^,..

Perhaps, we may say, without disparagement to the higher and

* " BeooUeotions of the Four Lwt Popes," p. 282.

;

LIFE OF CATHEBINB MCAULEr.

411

,0 nor sabtract

,ve known, or at
ry terms of her
lo the approved
lave taught her
ihe had never at-

jeriors do not re-
igation to act on
It their consent,
the inspiration,
ge fatality, poor
ia with the ideas
I DOt necessarily

iprehensive glance

)proached him, in
y admitted of ^f-
original views on
le had a command
g his sentiments,
isent. Hence, his
soon became sin-
sly, this proved to
;ondition of being
ntnred to saggest
it a distance. He
no counsellor but
nded himself with
ess to him, found
jart to a solitary

to the higher and

p. 292.

better powers of Dr. Baines, that such a prelate, though a Bene>
dictine, was not the best director in the world for one " given to
extremes in matters of piety."

But it often happens that the recipient of "extraordinary
favors" (?) will not choose to acquiesce in the decision of a direct
superior, unless the decision agree with the " revelation." It will
be understood, that whatever we say here refers not to such extra-
ordinary things as are proved in the proper manner to be of divine
origin, but such as are produced by the human or the diabolical
spirit, or a union of both ; for the devil, whom a holy Father
aptly calls " the ape of God," has often given evidence of much
power in this respect, though it is seldom a matter of difficnlty for
the learned to discern by certain signs whether he is the origin of
any given supernatural illumination, etc., or not.

Now it is very absurd for any one to prefer the vagaries of her
own imagination to the calm judgment of an enUghtened director ;
it is so absurd that we can hardly imagine it, except in a person
who cares not if she is deceived, when the delusion is pleasing.
And, as it is better to smile at absurdity than to lose one's temper
over it, persons of such a class will excuse us for hinting that they
remind us, very distantly, of course, of an ancient lady, whose elo-
quence at " class-meetings" was the admiration of — herself.

This venerable maiden determined to give up her former " way
of thinking," though not of preaching, applied to be received into
the Catholic Church, informing the priest that she designed to
make prayers and orations for the good of the brethren every Sab-
bath, as the Spirit might move her. Notwithstanding the admira-
tion he must have felt for the zeal which excited her to give to the
world the full benefit of her ready oratory, he was obliged to io-
form her that his Church did not allow women tu exercise the
fanctioti of preaching in public. But, as the bashful vestal ob-
jected strongly to every thing he urged in defence of this point
of discipline, he quoted St. Paul, innocently sopposing that she
was willing to abide by the Bible, which she grasped in her
shrivelled hands. Whereupon, striking the blessed book with the
index finger, she exclaimed, with terrible emphasis : . .»^; ,i,

"But, my dear sir, therms where Paul and I differ I" i^ i

■ ■,iyill(lt'K"'-.fililMl.

412

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

It is thus with the victims of delusion. It is little nse to quote
Paul, or a higher than Paul, if he and they " differ."

The lady who, in this Instance, desired to introduce novelties,
was a convert, of that high burth* which adds lustre to the sacri-
fice made in quitting the world, when she who makes it says, with
her heart as with her lips : " The empire of this world, and all the
glory thereof, I have despised for the love of my Lord Je8ns."f
She had already seen more than forty summers ; her intellect wr.s
beyond the average; she wrote with ease, and sometimes with
elegance ; her accomplishments were numerous ; she spoke several
languages, sang, played on many instruments, and painted, in a
style that some professors might envy. And, to do her justice,
she did not seem to be in the category of those who are " deprived
of the fruit of the tree of life for having eaten too greedily of the
tree of knowledge." In appearance she was plain, but every one
agreed that " the beauty of the king's daughter was within." As
to manner, she seemed a perfect Religious, and that, in Reverend
Mother's vocabulary, included a perfect gentlewoman. We meet
with one passage in the Foundress' letters, in which she regrets

the necessity there exists of taking down some of Sister A- ^"s

*' self-importance with regard to opinion ;" but every thing else

said in them is in praise of Sister A . Would that she had

used her gifts more for the glory of the Giver I

The desire to introduce duties incompatible with the Rule, is
nothing new in the hi';cory of Religious Orders. Thus Orviedo and
Onofrio wished to become hermits, and still retain the title of
Jesuits, but there they and St. Ignatius differed. Thus Manda-
rini wanted to improve on St. Liguori's views, but there also he
and the saint differed. In these caKes the delusions were very
specious, nevertheless the two saints quickly discovered the ruse.
If people want, as they somelimes would pretend to make as un-
derstand, something more perfect than the rule the Church of
God approves for them, the more honorable course is to quit the

* Hardly high euough, however, to justify the frequent allusions made to It
in her works, which, to say Uio least, cannot be considered in very good tute.
t *' Btgnum mutidi," eto. ProfeMion oeremoulal.

■ .»»»»«i»M»»(««KBWMiaii^!|||i^^

,^„^^

5T.

LIFE OP OATHEBINE MOAULBT.

418

little use to quote
•er."

itroduce novelties,
lustre to the Bacri-
Qakes it says, with
world, and all the
my Lord Jesus."t
; her intellect wr.s
d sometimes with
she spoke several
and painted, in a
to do her justice,
ffho are " deprived
too greedily of the
lain, but every one
■ was within." As
I that, in Reverend
woman. We meet
I which she regrets

I of Sister A ^"s

it every thing else
rould that she had

B with the Rule, is
Thus Orviedo and
retain the title of
red. Thus Manda-
1, but there also he
lelusions were very
liscovered the ruse,
nd to make as un-
rule the Chnrch of
)urse is to quit the

lent allusions made to it
ired ia very good tate.

Order, and not to remain within it to injure, if they cannot sub*
vert it.

Now, the Rules, the common life, the perfection which consists
in " performing extraordinarily well the ordinary exercises of every
day" — this was all Reverenii Mother ever directed the Sisters to
aspire to. This was the will of God in their regard. " I had
rather assist my neighbor than be rapt in ecstacy," said a great
contemplative,* "because in an ecstacy God assists me, but in
serving my neighbor, I assist Him." With far greater reason
should a Sister of Mercy make a similar selection. Mother McAu-
ley wished all her children to be saints, but she was not ambitious
that some should " appear before men" ecdowed with greater gifts
than others ; and she thought it a very good mortification for the
strong to wait sweetly for the weak, and accommodate their pace
to that of the weary and sickly, as Jacob slackened his speed
through compassion for the children and lambs that brought np the
rear of his Oriental cortege. When she praises a Sister in particu-
lar, it is not for severe discipline, high contemplation, extraordinary
fasts, prolonged vigils. These are excellent things, but from their
very nature they cannot be always and universally practised in any
Religious house, still less if such house be occupied by " Sisters of
Mercy, whose charity is their inclosiire, while for the love of
their Heavenly Spouse, in His poor and suffering members, they
deny themselves the peace and protection of a cioiscer."f But
she,, praises for exact observance of Rule, and she inatrccts her
children to emulate the virtues of the saints, not their extraordi-
nary actions. Her letters abound in such paasages as the follow-
ing : " Little Sister M. De Sales is well versed in all our ways, and
very faithful to her vocation." " Sister M. Aloysia is most humble
and edifying ; in the most trying circumstances she is never moved.
She l^ibors incessantly for the objects of the Institnto." " Sister
M. Teresa i« proving that she profited of the advantages she re-
ceived. She 's now laboring ut the manuscript, and though she
cannot do it in the very btst style, she is so anxious that I am
forced to appear content." " Sister Teresa ' the Less' is doing

*■ iialDt Mary Maj^dalen di Paxzi.

t Faber.

■wr

414

UFE OF OATHEBmS MOAULET.

great good among the poor." " Sister M. Clare teaches me, hj her
example, what gcnaine meekness and hamility are." " I hear great
accounts of Sister M. Josephine's prudence, and nice, regular ex-
ample. I saw all that was amiable in her character." And as a
preparation to enter a new house with a renovated spirit, she does
not prescribe extraordinary fasts and novenas, bnt a more perfect
obserranco of the common regulations. Thus she writes : " It is
gratifying to hear that you are to hare the comfort of entering
your new convent in May. Yon will all be making a fervent pre-
paration for that happy event, and draw down upon yourselves the
blcssmgs of heaven, by observing all the regulations, and by a cau-
tiousy salutary fear of every departure from rule and observance.
Then will God make yonr house His own, and love to dwell among
you."

She did not undervalue the extraordinary things that often ac-
company or form an element in heroic sanctity, bat she preferred
the common life to the working of miracles, and she thought, with
the great masters of spiritual science, that only stem necessity
shonld compel one to speak of such things in connection with self.
" My secret to myself" was her motto, and so well did she practice
that beautiful " reserve" she constantly inculcated, that though it
was only when her weak arms refused to tortare her dying frame,
that she laid aside the " discipline" wet with her blood, yet it was
after death that her wounded shoulders and lacerated feet bore
eloquent testimony to a degree of bodily mortification her most
confidential companions never suspected till all danger of paining
her humility and " reserve" was past forever I

The following letter will show that she d' ' hj- Cecm it in ac-
cordance with religious modesty to speak c t .' too much on
•'the delectations" experienced in prayer, the ui p, tif ace to "con-
summate the sacrifice," the boiling fervor which may be in some
danger of boiling over, &c. :

" My dear Sister, accept my thanks for your kind note, which
was quite cheering. You are timely in thinking of your profession,
and I feel satisfied you will make duo preparation for it, and that
you will never be unworthy of so great a favor. But I expect to
see in all my dear Sister novices, a sweet, holy reserve, which will

-^MW

IT.

teaches me, by her
e." "I hear great
[ nice, regular ex-
cter." And as a
ed spirit, she does
but a more perfect
ihe writes : " It is
jmfort of entering
ling a fervent pre-
ipon yourselves the
ions, and by a cau-
lie and observance.
ove to dwell among

ings that often ac-
', but she preferred
1 she thought, with
)nly stem necessity
onnection with self,
well did she practice
,ted, that though it
ire her dying frame,
,er blood, yet it was
lacerated feet bore
rtiflcation her most
1 danger of paining

jiur deem it in ao-

■Ki f too much on

uiipvtiface to "con-

ich ma) be in some

>nr kind note, which
ng of your profession,
ition for it, and that
or. But I expect to
ily reserve, which will

LIFE OF OATHKBINli^ UOA.VLET.

415

bo as a shield around them. This word ' reserve' is extensively
useful for meditation. If we acquire Religions reserve, we shall
never speak too much, write too much, grieve too much, laugh too
much ; and when we do all things in due order, and do not exceed
in any, then a good foundation will be laid for advancement in re-
ligious perfection. May God grant to ns all this beautiful reserve,
that restrains words, looks, and actions, and continually whispers :
'Go back, stop, say no more." It is of immense value, and
greatly to be desired.

" I mast select a nice postulant for yon, and endeavor to induce
her to help the poor Sisters. Some one has said that a great barn
must be opened in Bermondsey, to admit all who are talking of
going there. Perhaps their pious intentions will evaporate in talk,
for want of that heavenly reserve we were speaking of. Now,
like a dear good child, pray for me, and believe me most affection-
ately yours in Jesus Christ." . ;

In young, lively persons, who enjoy rude health, and are still un-
tried,, nature may have as much to do with spiritual sweetness as
grace has. Evidently, the wise Foundress would prefer a little
" reserve" to all the splendid resolutions of her youthful corre-
spoudent — she feared the perfume might exhale if the vase were
too freely uncovered. She loved flowers, but she liked fruits bet-
tor. Of her own resolutions hardly one has reached us, but her
acts are, at this moment, animating thousands of her chUdren.

When first "the improvements" to be introduced into the Lon-
don House were discussed, it got out, in some way or other, that
the late Superioress was opposed to them. A distinguished lawyer,
a friend of the convent, consoled her successor by expressing a
hope, that '* the house would do better now since ' Paddy' had left."

In many instances there exists between the English and Irish an
antipathy which persons of ordinary virtue cannot easily overcome,
and which, after it seems to be eradicated, starts into being again,
An inordinate love of country may make narrow-minded people
imagine they cannot prove their loyalty without insulting or
wounding tha natives of other places ; just as some persons fancy
they cannot show their independence without showing their vul-
garity. Not a shade of this ignoble feeling existed in the heroic-

416

LITE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

ally charitable Foandress. She loved her country as St. Francis
of Sales loved the mgged soil of his native Savoy, aud like the
same saint, she was ready " to fly to England," or anywhere else,
to promote God's glory and the salvation of souls. One quality
she possessed in common with St. Ignatius, that every Sister of the
Order beliered herself to be a particular favorite of hers ; bat
certainly, if she showed any partiality, it was for the strangers, not
for her own coantrywomen. She praises her Scotch and English
Sisters much more frequently than her Irish Sisters — the former
had left happy homes and their native land, the latter had only
stepped from the paternal roof. The former were, in several in-
stances, converts, who, by embracing the faith and the Religious
life, had broken the ties that bound them to all they loved, and
really taken up the cross ; and hc' immensely she appreciated such
a sacrifice, her description of Sister M. Gertrude Jones, whom she
views as a martyr for the faith, beautifully shows.

To hear nationalities discussed in a manner capable of wounding
the most sensitive, would be exceedingly painful to her. And be-
cause England was regarded as the hereditary foe of Ireland, she
did not allow politics to be mentioned at recreation, lest any thing
shonld escape an impulsive Hibernian,* tending, in the slightest
degree, to wound those who had crossed the sea, and left every
thing they loved, to learn the maxims of perfection in a country

* It will be remembered that the greater part of Mother MoAuley'a life be-
longed to the moRt exciting period of Irish history — the leadership of O'Con-
nell. Beligion and politics were mingled, aud the fathers and brothers of many
of the Sisters were enthusiastic supporters of the " great champion of Catho-
lic freedom." Her dearest fViends, as Archbishop Murray, Dr. Doyle, Dr.
Blake, etc., were among the public men of the day. The talented daughters
of the Liberator daily ossisted in her poor schools ; yet with all this, a word
that could pain a foreigner was never uttered in her community. Like hor
ftioud, the Apostle of Temperance, while she sought to do good to every party,
her sympathies wore chiefly with the vanquished aud unfortunate; and when
there was misery to be relieved, or sorrow to be assuaged, repealers and
orangv..nen, Catholics and non-Catholics, natives and foreigners, were all the
same to her. Or, rather, the foreigners, of whom she know comparatively few,
were the moKt tenderly cherished. She even required the Sisters who spoke
foreign languages, to continue to study them occasionally, that they might be
able to afford the foreigners they constantly encountered iu the hospital* and
prinons, the comfort of instraction in their native tongue.

LIFE OF CATHKRINE IfOAULEY.

417

ry as St. Francis
Toy, aad like the
)r anywhere else,
ulfl. One quality
jvery Sister of the
rite of hers ; bnt
the strangers, not
!Otch and English
sters— the former
e latter had only
yere, in seTcral in-
and the Religions
,11 they loved, and
le appreciated such
e Jones, whom she
s.

ipable of wounding
i to her. And be-
foe of Ireland, she
;ion, lest any thing
Dg, in the slightest
sea, and left every
ction in a country

her MoAuley'8 life be-
10 leadership of O'Con-
■8 and brothers of many
BBt champion of Cutho-
urray, Dr. Doyle, Dr.
The talented daughters

with nil this, a word
community. Like hor
do good to every party,
unfortunate ; and when
3«uagod, repealers and
foreigners, were «ll the
;now comparatively few,

the Sisters who spoke
illy, that they might be
)d in the hospitaliuxd
ue.

which, in the days of its prosperity, had opened its glorious mon-
asteries to Frank a'jd Norman, Dane and Saxon, and had ever re-
ceived the stranger with the national cead mille a faltha. That
this ancient spirit still lived, in the Foundress at least, the follow-
ing pleasant passage, in a letter to the Superioress of Gal way Con-
vent, will show :

" All our English Sisters have signs of solid, genuine piety, and
strong vocation to their state. They are, indeed, all that we could
wish. Our veneitited Archbishop has promised to receive them,
but cannot yet appoint the day. The Irish Sisters are going to
treat them to a great christening cake, to impress them with a due
sense of Irish hospitality; and even now, when some fruit is being
distributed at recreation, the English Sisters always get the best
of it. I am instructing them for nearly two hours a day for the cer-
emony. Thank God, they love instruction, and seem most desirous
to profit by it. Their new convent is a beautiful Pngin structure.
It could not be too nice for those whom God has destined to be
its first occupants."

!No one would think, from the following letter, that Mother
McAuley had just had an unfavorable account of the house she
addressed it to; the Superioress, however, must have understood
the hint conveyed in the second sentence, about " the active prac-
tice of our duties." It is written to Sister M. De Sales White :

" We shall leave this house so badly provided, when going to
Birmingham, that we thought it would be necessary to get you
and dear Sister M. Xavier home before we left ; bnt I am now sat-
isfied to wait till my return, though indeed I see the necessity as
clearly as those who do not deem it prudent to wait so long. But
we will get you both so much improved by the good example you
have had, and the active practice of our duties, that yon will soon
help us to get all in order, that is, to teach the new children."

Nor is there a shade of anxiety expressed in this quiet, humor-
ous passage, written about the same time to a Sister in Limerick :

" We shall soon have a very thin house, if God is not pleased to
send us a new batch. If four go to Newfoundland, and nine to
Birniingham, thirteen vacant cells will be a curiosity here. This
will lie a great relief to my poor little houscrsteward, Sister M.

■i

LIFE OF CATHEBINB MCAULET.

Teresa (the Less), who has been often perplexed to make oat a
bed, so much so, tliat I nsed to try to avoid her when an addition
was on the way. We were sure to hear something like the follow-
ing dialogue : .!;'"i: srj a{ ^J.^ui „.'/„;:. y .t.r':!a;
' Reverend Mother, I hear there's another Sister coming T

" ' Yes ; have you any objection V

"•Where is she to sleep?' - > ,, .^':i,':.'^ j

'In my lap.' ^^ 'ti;:^

" ' Oh, I declare. Reverend Mother, it is impossible to make
any more room — the Sisters are dreadfully crowded. Come, look
into the dormitory,' etc.

" Read this for her, and she will rejoice at the prospect of thir-
teen spare beds. She must come home soon; we cannot afford to
have our poor reduced forces scattered."

St. Mary's was never without a cell for a new Sister. In con-
junctures like the above, Mother McAuley quietly led the stranger
to her own, and took her rest in an old arm-chair, if, indeed, she
rested at all.

The following extract, however, is not very complimentary to
the " improvements" attempted in London :

" I hope my dear Sisters M. Xavier and De Sales will come
home in their own native style, and that the Irish malediction,
' Bad manners to you,' will not have fallen on them. As my last
poetic effusion has been on this subject, I send a copy of it to dear
Sister M. Catherine, as a tribute of affectionate remembrance, not
at all insinuating that the curse has fallen on her."

Mother McAuley's life-long intercourse with the poor made her
familiar with all their very energetic modes of expressing joy and
sorrow, anger and affection. She was acquainted with every per-
sonification of poverty, from the venerable vendor of apples and
nuts, who sat at her " standing" conning her beads when not sell-
ing her merchandise, to the poor little boy who slept anywhere,
and dined on a " crust of bread and the smell of Gresham's Ho-
tel." She sometunes repeated at recreation their witty sayings,
but their ordinary mode of expressing dissatisfaction, " Bad man-
ners to you," greatly struck her. She wrote a few verses on it for
the amusement of the Sisters, playfully deprecating the malodic-

BY.

ed to make out a
p when an addition
ling like the foUow-

jister coming ?'

impossible to make
)wded. Come, look

the prospect of thir-
we cannot afford to

lew Sister. In con-
etly led the stranger
■chair, if, indeed, she

sry complimentary to

De Sales will come
he Irish malediction,
n them. As my last
d a copy of it to dear
ate remembrance, not
her."

th the poor made het
of expressing joy and
Eunted with every per-
vendor of apples and
• beads when not sell-
' who slept anywhere,
nell of Gresham's Ho-
n their witty sayings,
tisfaction, "Bad man-
e a few verses on it for
precating the maledio-j

LITE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

419

tiOD, and regretting that it fell on so many. She thpnght tho
world would be a happy place, if people's manners were as good as
their hearts ; since much of its nnhappiness comes frrm " bad
manners." Good manners, she said, should always accompany
good works, of which they are the most graceful ornament ; and if
the ugly malediction, " Bad manners to you," should fall on her
children, she believed their usefulness would be greatly diminished,
if not utterly destroyed.

One virtue which she considered peculiarly necessary for a Reli-
gious was forbearance. Forbearance when under any little excite-
ment, forbearance in School, forbearance in the House of Mercy,
forbearance everywhere. " We mast not make too many laws,"
she would say ; " if we draw the strings too tight they will break."
She desired for her Sisters a share in that adorable dissimulation
that " winketh at the sins of men to draw them to repentance,''
Hence she wished them to be ever ready to praise, to encourage, to
stimulate, but slow to censure, and still more slow to condemn.
The surgeon does not apply the knife and caustic until gentler
means have failed, and even when circumstances justify the severest
applications, we all know that the remedy may often prove worse
than the disease. There are disorders, too, that of their nature
are incurable. No physician will attempt to remove the unsightly
excrescence of a hunchback. Yet if diseases of the body were
treated with as little consideration as are those of the mind, what
would be the physical condition of the human race 1

But, with reference to the London difficulties. Reverend Mother
surpassed herself in forbearance. As Foundress of an Order which
had just received the highest possible sanction, every attempt at in-
novation must have been hateful to her. Yet her whole conduct is
conciliatory in the highest degree ; she never insists on the author-
ity her office necessarily gave her — she refrains from uttering a
command — she explains, suggests, entreats. The lady " inspired"
to improve on what the Sacred College had just confirmed, de-
signing to begin with the exterior, asked her whether the visitation
dress could not be changed. Hoods were to be substituted for
bonnets, and something else for cloaks. Mother McAulcy replied
that she would consider it, and when next Bishop Griffifths called,
she inquired whether the state of things in London required any

mSmmmmimm

420

LIFE OF CATHERmE MOAULET.

alteration in non-essentials, for in essentials none conld be made
withoat changbg the Order into something else, very good, perhaps,
but yet not the Order of Mercy. His lordship replied very em-
phatically : " I do not wish any changes." But innovations were
attempted in more important matters, and the lady " inspired" to
make them, whatever her othe> qualifications were, does not seem,
on this occasion, to have evinced over much respect for the Foun-
dress, who writes : " We can clearly discern a desire that John
Bull should be head on all occasions." She had just heard the Irish
element designated as we have described by the courteous, hospit-
able counsellor above quoted, and she adopts his elegant phrase-
ology in the confidential letter in which this passage occurs.

Bermondseyliad every earthly prospect of success. The house
was rich, its members persons of talent, rank, and influence, its Su-
perioress well known in the literary world, and its Pastor the ever-
devoted Dr. Butler. Still, rumors reached St. Mary's, and bishops
and priests began to suspect that however excellent its members
were, some of them were no longer Sisters of Mercy. An Eng-
lish priest having written to Mother McAuley that the Religious
were following their respective attraits, not the Rule, she imme-
diately begged Dr. Butler, who was Ecclesiastical Superior and
Confessor, to let her know exactly how matters stood. The Doc-
tor, who then thought that with such a staff it was impossible for
a convent to get ever sc little on the left side of perfection, in-
formed her by next post that he knew not what enemy of the Order
in general, and the London house in particular, had been dissemin-
ating such mjurious and false reports. Proceeding to describe the
flourishing condition of the house in spirituals and temporals, he
states that the two senior novices had just passed their examination
for profession in the most creditable manner, as Bishop Qriffifbhs
could testify. " Hitherto," continued the aggrieved Doctor, " we
have been obliged to depend on borrowed plumes for our ornaments,
but these being bo difficult to procure, I am happy to say that now
we can dispense with them." He concludes by entreating the
Foundress to ease her mind on this matter, since nothing could be
more satisfactory than the manner in which the House was con-
ducted. He forgot to say why " two Sisters left under such angry
circumfitances that they became enemies to the House," although

LIFE OP OATHKBINE MOAULET.

421

I conid be made
ry good, perbaps,
replied very em-
innovations were
dy " inspired" to
e, does not seem,
ct for the Foun-
desire that John
st heard the Irish
conrteons, hospit-
i elegant phrase-
ige occnrs.
cess. The house
i influence, its Sn-
} Pastor ttie ever-
[ary's, and bishops
llent its members
tfercy. An Eng-
lat the Religious
I Rule, she imme-
ical Superior and
stood. The Doc-
ras impossible for
i of perfection, in-
nemy of the Order
lad been dissemin-
ng to describe the
and temporals, he
I their examination
} Bishop Qriffifths
leved Doctor, " we

for our ornaments,
py to say that now
by entreating the

nothing could be
le House was con-
t under such angry
) House," although

she had specially inquired ; and she knew that though it is 8ome<
times necessary to send novices away, it is never necessary to treat
them in a manner calculated to make them " enemies." She did
not, therefore, set her mind at rest ; Bermondsey continued a thorn
iu her side till the day of her death. Dr. Butler was soon obliged
to come to Ireland " to borrow plumes," or rather to ask them as
a gift. The original Superioress returned with him, and things be-
■ came as the Foundress had established them before twenty hours
elapsed. The somewhat ancient projector of the innovations at
once seceded.* She retired to Rome, where, protected by Cardi-
nals Acton and Fransone, as she herself informs us, she wrote a
Rule for a community destined to include '* Solitaries" for contem-
plation, and " Handmaids" for action. These she afterwards es-
tablished near St. George's Church, Sonthwark, London, where, as
she herself was Foundress, she had ample scope for her zeal, and
no " tepid Religious'' to restrain her. Yet, notwithst^ding these
and other advantages, " the Consecrated Abbess," " the Mother
Almoner," and the rest of the " Solitaries" and " Handmaids," dis-
persed. Their projector resumed her literary labors, but her next
work shows little of " the Recluse," and less of the saint.t

It is a high eulogium on the Foundress, that when this lady left
the Order'she carried with her the highest veneration for her for-
mer Superioress, whom she always styles " the sainted Catherine
McAuley," and of whose immediate admission into glory she says
she had a vision. Such testimony from an opponent, who, what-
ever were her errors of the head, was appreciated in the Order and
out of It for her high moral worth and splendid literary ability,
may have its value; but of all who knew Catherine McAuley,
there was not one who did not feel certain of her admission to
glory, or that required a vision to confirm this belief.

Poor S. M. C ! did she go out from us because she was not

of us, or did God inspire her to take that step ?

* This unhappy finale the Foundress did not live to see.

t This lady wrote an acoounh of her stay in Rome, her projected Order, Ao.,
which she dedicated to the Prii seas Doria. When saints wrote their visions, it
was generally by the command of their spiritual directors, but thia lady pub-
lished hers in a Catholic novel I What would Mother UoAuley think of tueb
'' reserve I"

CHAPTER XL.

The FuandresR writes to the Bishop of Galway.— Her retarn to Ireland. — ^Let-
ters to Very Rev. Dr. Burke, of Westport ; to Sister M. Joseph Joyce ; to
Mother Teresa 'White. — Her continued interest in her Houses. — Her zeal.—
Old opinions about the New World.

DURING her stay in BirmiDghsm, Mother McAnloy's congh
became so mnch worse, that every one saw she was not long
for this world. The Bishop of Qalway having written to invite
her to assist at the profession of the Sisters who had been received
with such Sclat, she immediately forwarded the following reply :

" St. Mabib's, BiBHiNaHAV, SepttmUr SO, 1841.
" Mt Lord and dear Father in God :

" I have just had the honor to receive your esteemed favor, and
deeply regret that I am not to have the happiness of meeting my
beloved Sisters on the joyful occasion of their holy profession.
Even in this warm weather, my lord, if I remain in a room with a
window open, I cough all night, and so disturb the poor Sisters
who are near me. When I return to Baggot-stroet, I expect to
be confined to a close room, as the least blast makes me very
tronblesome for several days together. The good Bishop here
celebrated Mass for us yesterday. To'day, Dr. Wiseman continues
his course of lectures in the grand cathedral. He commenced with
the novel opinions of the sixteenth century, placing before the con-
gregation the arguments of both sides. Right Rev. Dr. Walsh
said there were at least twelve hundred persons present at the pre-
paratory discourse, some hundreds of whom were Protestants. It
is thought these discourses will produce many converts.

" My Lord, I should apologize for encroaching on yoor valuable

LIFE OF CATBEBINE HOAULET.

428

" /-•

etnrn to Ireland.— Let-
r M. Joseph Joyce; to
sr Uoaaes.— Her ie»l.—

r McAuley's congh
aw she was not long
ng written to invite
10 had been received
I following reply :

.H, Stptemitr 20, 1841.

' esteemed favor, and
)ines8 of meeting my
lieir holy profession,
ain in a room with a
urb the poor Sisters
tfltreet, I expect to
)laBt makes me very
e good Bishop here
r. Wiseman continues
He commenced with
lacing before the con-
ight Eev. Dr. Walsli
ns present at the pre-
were Protestants. It
' converts,
bing on your valuable

time, begging to thank yonr lordship for all yoar kindness to me
and the Sisters, and entreating yoar charitable remembrance.
* " Your grateful child and servant in Christ,

"Mart Catherine McAulet."

Mother McAuIey left Birmingham, September 23d, accompanied

by Sister Fanny O , now Sister M. Liguori. They made sqme

hours' stay in Liverpool, where the latter met her mother. Very
Rev. Dr. Yonens received them most hospitably, and, renewing
the subject of the Liverpool Foundation, conducted them to a
large, gloomy-looking house on Mount Yernon, which he was
fitting up for a temporary convent. The day was wet and cold
— one of those bleak days that, in England, often fall towards the
end of September. Reverend Mother's clothing was scant, and
her shoes, though decent in appearance, old and worn — damp feet
did not improve her health, and the tossing on the stormy channel,
daring a very anpropitious voyage, seemed completely to over-
whelm her. It was her favorite Feast of Our Lady of Mercy, the
last she spent on earth. On the morning of the next day, she
reached Kingstown, and the Sisters were shocked at the change a
few weeks had wrought in her appearance. On the same day, she
wrote the following letter from St. Mary's, in which, as usual, she
expresses more concern for the afflictions of othTs than her own:

",S^pfcfni«'25, 1841.

*' My dkab Sister M. Frances :

" We had a weary passage : kept three hours waiting for the
tide, and did not arrive at Kingstown till nine a. u. The poor
Sisters had comfortable tea for us, and we rested there till
twelve. I had with me the young Novice, Sister Fanny, who has
had great family afflictions. Her poor papa now in London, after
a severe operation ; her mamma's letters such as it is wonderful
she can bear. Never did I see a vocation so well proved. Very
Rev. Dr. Youens, an intimate friend of hers, had her mamma to
meet us at his house. We dined with him ; and, as the packet
did not sail till eight, he brought us to the place he "•♦^^ends for the
convent. It is very well suited, quite close to the town, with three
good approaches to it. He says the present House shall remain

424

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

for a Uonse of Mercy. We changed our visitation dress for onr
Hoose dress before dinner, and some of his priests have now seen
our full costume, which they like very mnch. He seems quite
ardent about the Foundation, and sent a lady here in my absence,
a Miss Coucitt, very nice person indeed."

That hor interest in her convents continued to the last is proved
by such sentences as these, scattered through her letters : " Their
progress in Galway exceeds all expectation." " 1 hope they wUl
go on iu Bermondsey with great ardor now." " In Cork they ad-
vance piano, piano." " I think Birmingham will be a flourish-
ing House." " I am delighted to learn of the prosperity of
Wexford." " I am happy to learn that poor, sickly Naas is re-
covering so fast." " The Sisters in Birr have four hundred and
fifty children in their schools. Poor Father Crotty is greatly
afflicted. He calls the Sisters poor deluded dupes." Notwith-
standing all that pressed on her, she still sympathizes with her
children in their little troubles. "It distressed me much," she
wrote to one of them, "to hear that your good director was
changed. I know it is an r 'on for you ; but rest assured God
will send you some, disting consolation. This is your life —

joys and sorrows mingled — one succeeding the other. Let as not
think of the means God has employed to send us some portions of
His holy Gross, being ever mindful that it comes from Himself."
Grateful for every kindness shown a delicate Sister, she says :
" How shall I express the affectionate gratitude I feel for your
kindness to my poor novice, Sister M. Justina, who is, indeed, a
good Religious, and valuable in every way. I believe sending her
to the world would be followed by her death. Dr. Corrigan is
attending her, at her father's request. Dr. Stokes, who is now
considered the best opinion in lung cases, desires she should drive
out every fine day. He says she is better, but fears consumptioD
is lingering about her."

Towards the end of Mother McAuley's life her zeal redoubled,
and she would gladly go to the ends of the earth, " to plant Jesus
Christ in the hearts of the poor." She offered to go to Nova
Scotia with )ut foundation fund or settlement, to assist poor e u -
grants and their children, of whose sufferings she had heard.

;ion dress for onr

its have now seen

He seema quite

re in my absence,

the last is proved
r letters : " Their
' 1 hope they will
' In Cork they ad-
will be a flourish-
the prosperity of
sickly Naas is re-
four hundred and
Crotty is greatly
iupes." Notwith-
mpathizes with her
ed me much," she
good director was
it rest assured God
This is your life —
other. Let as not
08 some portions of
nes from Himself."
Sister, she says:
ude I feel for your
who is, indeed, a
believe sending her
Dr. Corrigan is
Stokes, who is now
ires she should drive
t fears consumption

ler zeal redoubled,
th, " to plant Jesuj

red to go to Nova
to assist poor e a -

ga she had heard.

LIFE OF CATHEBINE XCAULET.

4S6

When Right Rev. Dr. Fleming, of Newfoundland, applied for a
colony, she desired to accompany her Sisters to the New World.
At that time this was something of a sacrifice. The most exag
gcratcd accounts of the climate and inhabitants of America were
prevalent among the better class of Irish, some thirty years ago.
It was, indeed, a terra incognita to most of them. Persons of
good abilities and information in other respects, who could accu-
rately describe the Steppes of Russia, the Pontine marshes, the
beauties of ancient Greece, the orange groves of Spain, the climate
of Saxe Weimar or Andorra, spoke of America as an immense
continent, every inch of which was subject to irregular vicissitudes
of tropical heat and polar snow — a vast prairie, in which Indians
and buffaloes wrestled for dominion. Many who crossed the At-
lantic expected to find wigwams in New York and Baltimore, and
see Cherokees, Crows and Blackfeet smoking the calumet in
Broadway. "To converse with an American," says a noble au-
thor of the present century, " is like speaking with posterity from
the other side of the Styx." But no dangers, real or imaginary,
could deter Catherine McAuity when the salvation of souls was in
question ; and could the Archbishop's consent be obtain';d, she
had been the first of her Order to touch American soil.

In the beginning of October her health seemed greatly improved.
Father O'Hanlon expressed astonishment at this. " O, my dear 1"
he exclaimed, " yon are looking qnite yonrself again, thank God."
It was a change before death ; yet the too bright light of her soft,
blue eye, and the hectic of her sunken cheek, could deceive only a
sup irficial observer. On the seventh she was so exhausted that
the Sisters prevailed on her to take a little rest. The following
note she wrote to Dr. Burke, of Westport, on the 8th :

" Many thanks, dear Rev. Father, for the kind concern you ex-
press about my health. I am really quite a fine lady, doing nothiog
but looking on, keeping np the little remnant for foundations, and
above all, for Westport.

" Earnestly begging a remembrance in your prayers,
" I remain, dear, respected, Rev. Father,

" Your very grateful Sister and servant in Christ,

"M. C. MCAULKT." ,,,

, ■

426

LIFE OF CATHEBmE HOAULXT.

A little later she wrote to Sister M. Joseph Joyce,'*' the first Si»
ter of Mercy professed in Galway :

•' How jcyfnlly, how sincerely I congratulate you on the com-
pletion of your hopes and wishes. What a sweet and blessed
union you have formed ! Prove your gratitude by going hand in
hand witb yonr Divine Redeemer ; nothing to interest yon but
what relates to His glory. May He grant yon every grace and
blessing, and make yon one of His dearest and best beloved."

At the same time she wrote to the Superioress :
•. "How heartily I rejoice that all difficulties have been sur-
mounted, and that our dear, dear Sisters have been professed.
Thanks be to God ! How I felt for them, k' )t fasting till three
o'clock. But the holy and delightful view G d inspired them ♦,o
take of their mortified Redeemer at that hour, was well calculated
to support and animate them. My poor Sister M. De Sales was
disappointed at not going to you, but she is my constant, aSac-
tionate nurse, and indeed I am a troublesome child. I have felt
the last heavy days very much — great increase of the cough — thank
God — this mild day has revived me. Yonr mamma was here siace
we returned. She looks as well as ever I saw her, I must try to
write a few lines to each of my grandchildren. May God bless
and protect you all."

The Sisters professed on the foundations she playfully styled her
grandchildren, and she showed them, equally with the rest, the
nfiection of the fonaest mother. The racking cough, and the
twitches of inflammatory rheumatism, were insufficient to lessen the
heavenly sweetness of her countenance ; but she was no longer
able to make much physical effort. " The singin(,' I have beside
me, and all the noise they make at recreation, do not disturb me,"
she wrote, " but the sound of a carriage-wheel rouses mo at once."
To the last, she strove to conceal the gravity of her disease, lest
her approaching death should grieve the Sisters ; and she denied

* Sister M. J. Joyce was one of " the first seven" professed at St. Tercsa'a.
Before the confirmation of tlie Bulo, " the flrsi. sevun" entering eaoh house won
professed after one year's novitiate; but since the confiriiition, tlie novitiati
must continue " two entire years" before profession, and two years after. Tliia
was the only ohango made In the rules, Ac, at Kome.

[iET.

LIFE OF OATHEBIKS MOAULET.

427

Foyce,* the first Si»

ite you on tbe com*
swoet and blosBcd
ie by going hand in
to interest you but
fovL erery grace and
[ best beloved."
'ess :

ties have been snr-
lave been professed.
n pt fasting till three
lod inspired them *.o
r, was well calculated
Bter M. De Sales was
is my constant, affoc-
le child. I have felt
B of the cough— thank
namma was here since
ff her. I must try to
ren. May God bless

he playfully styled her
ly with the rest, the
jking cough, and the
isufficient to lessen the
it she was no longer
singinti have beside
a, do not disturb me,"
el rouses me at once."
ity of her disease, lest
jters ; and she denied

" professed Bt St. Tercsa'i.

" entering each house wort

eonfln ntion, the novitiati

snd two yeara after. Th"

le.

to herself in her last days the care she had lavished on hundreds.
Speaking of a Sister who was dying at TuUamore, she thus uncon-
faciously describes herself: "Blessed is that sweet and spotless
soul, getting rapidly out of this miserable world." No wonder that
her own jcy was great when she was " getting out of this misera-
ble world;" she had led " that blessed and happy life which makes
death so sweet." The following letter is, so far as we know, the
last she ever wTOte. It is dated October 12, 1841 :

"My Dear Sistkr M. 'Frances: '

" Very Rev. Dr. Kirby, Vice-President of the Irish College at
Rome, having called here the day before he sailed, I mentioned to
him some evident mistakes in the copy of our Holy Rule : he
told me to select them, and forward the document to him, with
Archbishop Murray's signature, and said we should, without any
more trouble, obtain permission to rectify them. I almost forgot
to add, what will occur to yourself, not to speak of any mistakes
in the Rule.

" I have jui t received your welcome letter. How grateful I
ought to be for all your anxiety. We shall meet again, please
God, but not at present. I was sorry to hear poor Dr. Fitzgerald
is suffering so much. Tell him I pray with all the fervor I can for
his comfort, etc. Ever your affectionate, ' ,;

' , , "Mary C. McAolkt."

The Rules and Constitutions were originally written in Ilnglish.
They were translated into Italian for the greater convenience of
the Sacred Congregation I y whom they were examined. Very
Rev. Mr. Colgan, of the Carmelite Order, certified the translation
to be "substantially accurate." After their confirmation the/
were translated back into English, and this new translation Mother
McAuley found did not atrree exactly with the original ; the errors
she pointed out were, however, immediately rectified. The first
printed copies of the Rule were those sent from the Propaganda to
the Bishops in whose dioceses convents of the' Order were located
iu 1841.*

* In the last edition of the Bule, pnbliahed in Dublin with the imprimatur
of U. £. Cardinal Callan, and certified by Monaignore Forde, who " carcfiillr

I ^Miiii nr *

■*

kUW " .-lJi l .. I | .< B-

4S8

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

The examination of the Knle, and the effort to hare it«i inaccu-
racies rectified, occupied the time of the Foundress, and the recti-
fying of these \:ea almost the last act of her life. She rallied for
a coaple of weeks, without any new indication of her approaching
demise. Present at every community exercise when she was scarce
able to crawl, it was with difficulty the Sisters persuaded her to
allow herself the comfort of retiring in the evening an hour before
the appointed time. When her cough was unusually bad at night,
she seemed greatly distressed next day lest she had disturbed any
of the Sisters who slept near her cell, and she would sweetly apolo-
gize when they came to sec her, for having made so much noise at
a time of strict silence. Weak and exhausted as she was, the Sis-
ters could not believe her to be in danger of death, because they
considered her indispensable to themselves and to th(;ir infant In-
stitute. But that Institute was Ilis work more than hers, and she
had ever taught them that its prosperity did not depend on any in-
dividual, but on a continuation of His blessing. She herself knew
what was coming; she set all in order, and when she had arranged
her papers, turning to Sister M. Teresa Carton, she said : " Now,
they are ready, my child." Calmly she settled all her business, as
if she were going to be absent for a long time ; but this excited no
alarm, as she always did so before setting out on foundations. After
death, her papers were found, every one in its own place ; the
thousands and tens of thousands which had passed through her
hands were accounted for to the very farthing, in the clear, concise
method of book-keeping which she had adopted ; wills, deeds, and
legacies were arranged in order, and an index showed where each
item could be found ; such of her correspondencef as might not, if

examined it," to be " Hubfltantialty accurate," the latter rooommonda that th<
Italian always be pnblished with the Engliah, " tlie better to decide any quu-
tiona tliut may arise." The word dotuna, for instance, admits of two render-
ings, yot, after nil, both come to the same thing, so far as the Order is con-
corned, In translating the passages in which it occurs : " Non si ammetters tl-
onna a dotxtna, ud cccoziono di una foudatrloe, o grando benefuttrioe." (Cnpo
viii. s. 4.) And : " Siocome le sorelle Ui quosta Santa Congrogazione aono dedi-
catl ai povori— e sicconie 6 loro rigorosamente proiblto di ricevere a doM4na,
non si aprirA aloun nuovo Monastoro, se non abbia una oerta rendlta pel luo
nantenimento," etc. Cnpo x. I>*gU SkAUitMiUi,
i As, for instance, the letter* of Uishop Blake and Bi«hop Haly on the chsp-

ii* iiii ili i SiiB

iBY.

to hare ite inaccftt-
ress, and the recti-
fc. She rallied for
of her approaching
rhen she was scarce
I persuaded her to
ning an hoar before
isually bad at night,
e had disturbed any
would sweetly apolo-
de so much noise at
as she was, the Sia-

death, because they
I to thdr infant In-
re than hers, and she
ot depend on any in-
;. She herself knew
»eu she had arranged
•n, she said: "Now,
id all her business, as
; but this excited no
)n foundations. After

its own place ; the
1 passed through her
r, in the clear, concise
ted ; wills, deeds, and
X showed where each
encef as might not, if

ter rooommonda that lh«
letter to decide any quc»-
se, admita of two render-
j far as the Order is con-

: " Non si ommettera »1-
,ndo benefttttrioe." (Cnpo

Congrogaziono sono deJi-
bito di ricevore a dotttM,
una certa rondita pel suo

BitUop Haly on the ch»^

LITE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

429

produced, prove agreeable to persons still living, and such as was
strictly confidential, could not be found, she probably having de-
stroyed it to prevent any unpleasant consequences. As far as she
could, she made the way easy, as she would say, for her successor;
and one could not examine her papers, arrangements, etc., spiritual
and temporal, without seeing that "He that feareth God, ney-
lecteth nothing."

During life she always manifested a singular devotion to the
abandonment of Jesus on the cross ; in death she desired to par-
ticipate in this sorrow. She preserved silence as to what she knew
to be inevitable, lest the Sisters should send to distant Houses for
her old companions, whom she always particularly esteemed, and
whom, according to nature, she might rejoice to see thronging
around her death-bed.

laincy question. As they entirely agrreed with her, passages in their letter*
miglit be considered strictures on Dr. Meyler, whose own Bishop did not deem
it necessary to interfere in this matter.

17*

fli 'ft«, f

^mm

CHAPTER XLI.

All Saints' Day. — All Souls' Day. — Joy of the Foundress at the approach of
death. — She reoeives the Last Sacraments, — Her last moments. — The rullDg
passion strong in death. — Her obsequies. — The remains of her departed chil-
dren are brought home. — Her personal appearance. — Her portrait. — Statistics
of ther Order.

BROWN October had robbed the trees of their beanty ; nature
was stripped of her fairest ornaments ; the birds had flown
to a more genial clime ; but, though the bright and beantifnl
things of nature had faded, nature's God remained, as ever, with-
out vicissitude. The glorious festival of All Saints, so consoling,
80 inspiring, came round. With what fervor did our dying saint
celebrate it t It gives us a glimpse of heaven, when the beauteous
things of earth have vanished, reminding ns that in onr tme home
all things will be made new forever. Other feasts show us Jesus
the Head, or Mary the Mother of the Church, or angels her
guardians, or saints her body ; but, on this, the gates of heaven
are thrown open to us, " poor, banished children of Eve." There
we see Jesus, the First-born of the samts, Mary, the Queen of
saints, and mUIions of ransomed sodIs, of every tribe and tongue
and people and nation : souls decked in the fair garb of baptismal
innocence, and souls adorned with the martyrs' palm ; the souls of
our parents, our brothers, oar friends — those who had the same
trials and temptations as we, who wallced in the same streets, who
prayed in che same church — those who instrncteri us, who loved
us. They pray for us now — charity is perfected in heaven ; they
ardently long for our arrival among them — their bliss will not be
complete without us. Our thrones await us : when shall we be
summoned to fill them? When shall we increase that "great
mnltitade which no man could number?" This feast is placed
near the end of the ecclesiastical year, when tho fallen leaf is

LIFE OF OATHEBmX KCAULKT.

481

BR at the nppronohof
momenta.— The ruling
s of her departed chil-
ler portrait.— SUtietics

leir beauty ; nature
ihe birds had flown
right and beautiful
lined, as ever, with-
iaints, so consoling,
did our dying saint
when the beauteous
it in our true home
easts show us Jesus
irch, or angels her
he gates of heaven
in of Eve." There
iary, the Queen of
ry tribe and tongue
r garb of baptismal
' palm ; the souls of
who had the same
le same streets, who
Qctef' us, who loved
«d in heaven ; they
leir bliss will not be
when shall we be
icrease that "great
This feast is placed
in the fallen leaf ia

beautifully teaching us that all we love on earth must sooner or
later vanish from our view ; it opens heaven to us " towards even-
ing, when the day is far spent." I^ o wonder that t!ie dying servant
of God longed for her release, sighing, with the Prophet, " How
miserable am I that my exile is so prolonged P or, with her be-
loved St. Teresa :

" Ah I Lord, my life and living hreatb,
Take me, oh 1 talte ma from this death,
And burst the bars that sever me

From my true life above I
Think how I die Thy f&ce to see, : '' :
And cannot live away from Thee, ,,• ^^ : ,

Oh, my Eternal Love 1" ,-

And gazing in spirit on her departed children, whom she fondly
called her " Community in heaven," v?ith what ardor did she not
exclaim, " O Jesus ! First-boni of the el^st I Saint of saints, and
King of glory ! l mand me to come to Thee, that, with Thy
saints, I may praise Thee forever and ever !" 'isVit/,-'

Though the Church sometimes celebrates the glory of thousands
of her children in a single day, still the year is not long enough to
commemorate the millions and billions of her sainted children.
Bat, on this day, not a member of the Triumphant Church is for>
gotten. All are praised and venerated by their b'^thren of the
Militant Church.

Nor was the Feast of All Souls less animating to the departing
Foundress. How often, during life, and still more at the approach
of death, did she not sigh for that " Eternal Best" which the
Church so lovingly and so perseveringly implores for her departed
children.

Death hovered around her yet a few days, as though this king
of terrors were afraid to make her his prey. Consumed by love
rather than pain, her light v/ent out, but slowly. Like the glorious
Apostle of the Gentiles, she longed to be dissolved and be with
Christ. Like the same Saint, charity and zeal so urged her, that
she seemed not to have elbow-room in this world.

All her life she appears to have had a peculiar gift of joy ; and
during the too short period of her religious life, she never seemed

. imiiiiPPiifrfTirm'fir

482

LIFE OF CATHEBmE UOAULEY.

weary of expatiating on what she called "the joys of her
state."

"We must be happy," ihe said, "while the spirit of onr snlh
lime vocation animates as." She could not understand sadness in
Beligious. The joy of a good conscience, the joy of spending
themselves in the service of Christ, the joy of wearing the livery
of such a Master, ought to beam on their very faces, she thought.
She bad seen and mingled with the world daring the greater part
of hei life, and she had seen it under favorable aspects, for her
friends and connections were all estimable persons ; yet she ever
held, that if there is true happiness on earth, it is found in the Re-
ligious life ; by those who are animated with the spirit of their
vocation. Writing to a lady about to join her Institute, she thus
concludes her account of the day's employments : " After supper,
we make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament, and then go to recrea-
tion ; and you never saw such a happy, merry party, nor never
will, except in a Beligious community." To Sister M.Catherine, in
Galway, she writes : " While the spirit of your vocation animates
your actions, happiness must await you, even when you have many
charges to bring against yourself in your dally examens." Id
another letter, she says : " How sweet, how blessed is our life,
which affords so much solid eqjoyment when all that the world
values is shut out from m. O blessed and happy life which makes
death so sweet 1"

Towards the end, her joy became so int«nse, that, when asked
by her friend, Dean Gaflfney, whether she still experienced that fear
of dying which at one time threatened to become excessive, sh*
replied : " If I thought death could be so sweet, I never should
have feared it. Our Lord has spared me very much."

One of the Sisters having remarked that, after doing bo macli
for God and His poor, the Foundress of the Order of Mercy could
have nothing to fear, the latter said, impressively :

"My child, let ns never think of what we have done bnt
rather of what we might have done, had we been more faitbfiil
stewards of God's gifts and graces."

If Alexander sighed when the philosophers told him the stars
were worlds, because there were many worlds, and be had not yet

iBT.

"the joys of her

I spirit of oar snb-
lerstand sadaess in
be joy of spending
wearing the livery
faces, she thought,
ig the greater part •
ble aspects, for her
•sons ; yet she ever
t is found in the Re-
i the spirit of their
r Institute, she thus
its : " After supper,
i then go to recrea-
Ty party, nor never
ister M.Catherine, in
ir vocation animates
when you have many
daily examens." Id
r blessed is our life,
1 all that the world
ppy life which makes

se, that, when asked
experienced that fear
)ecome excessive, shi
sweet, I never should
y much."

after doing so mnch
Order of Mercy could
vely :
we have donct bat
e been more faithful

rs told him the stars
I, and he had not yet

LIFE OF CATHBRINB MCAULEY.

433

conq^e^ed one, mnch more did Catherine McAuley sigh, because
there were so many sinners in the one worid she knew, and 3he had
won so few of them back to their Creator.

During the Octave of All Saints, her exhaustion became so
great, that she was unable to leave her bed ; yet she would not
grieve the Sisters by telling them that the hand of death was on
her. Bat her debility increasing, the last Sacraments were ad-
ministered on Monday, the 8th of November, the Sisters still
clinging to the hope that Extreme Unction would restore her.
But God decreed otherwise. ; . /; j v .

To one of her children, S. M. Gertrude B , who came from

a distance to see her about this time, she said :

" Have you received the necessary permission to leave home, my
child?" i,;:: fiK^vft -gsica " .^5;£;*«.; ,>u.i; i, ;.,■;;':■;- ■

The Sister, who was a local Superior, candidly confessed she had
not, and Mother McAuley having embraced her with a fervent
" God bless you," desired her to return dkectly.

Mother Elizabeth, of Limerick, came with " the necess' ./ per-
mission" to see if there were any real danger of death. Her dying
Mother received her with the utmost cordiality, and when she left
the room, called the infirmarian, and said :

" Who sent for Sister M. Elizabeth, my child ?"

The Sister replied, that Mother di Pazzi and the Community
Sisters, fearing there was some danger of death, wished some of
tiie old Sisters to come and see her. -^-i •' v

One gleam of a long-suppressed aflfection now burst from the
expiring saint. Of the two Sisters whom she had reproached her-
self with loving too well, in 1837, one was still living, but at a
distance. Naturally, she might wish to see this cherished friend
once more ; but grace would not allow such a gi-atificatiou to na-
ture, and she expressed no wish on the subject. Fearing, however,
that the Sisters might anticipate her natural desires, she said, some-
what cageriy to the infirmarian. Sister M. Teresa Carton :

"Sister, have they sent for my child?" And on receiving a
negative reply, she raised her eyes towards heaven, but said
nothing. The Sister, in deference to what she knew to be the
wishes of her dying Mother, did not mention this circumstance till

,. .■^,LL,ij|g»ijp >*'MweaMap"*itt

484

LITE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

the Foundress was beyond all danger of participating in mere ha-
man gratification.

On Tuesday, November 9th, she handed to the same Sister her
discipline, still reeking with her blood, ordering her to put it in
the fire, and see that it was burned. The same day she gave to
Mother Elizabeth a parcel carefully tied np, desiring her not to
let any one see the contents. It was supposed that it contained,
among other things, her old shoes, which were nowhere to be'
found after her death, and which, it was often observed, seemed
to fit her very uneasily. Owing to the " reserve" which she prac-
tised far better than she preached, the full amount of her mortifi-
cation can be known only to God. But when life was extinct, the
scarred shoulders, the lacerated feet, and the attenuated frame,
eloquently testified that she had " borne about in her body the
mortification of Christ."

At four A. M. on Thursday, November 11, she called the infirmar
rian, and said :

" My darling, could you have this bed moved to the middle of
the room ? I shall soon want air."

It was only after she had said this, that the Sisters believed she
would never leave that bed alive.

She expressed, several times, an ardent desire that the prayers
of the poor might be procured for her soul, and especially the
prayers of the servants, to whom she had ever been so much de-
voted. But, with her usual beautiful considerateness, she remarked
that it would be troublesome for the Sister in charge of these to
make this request of each one of them as they happened to come;
and she suggested that a card could be hung up in the Servants'
Office, on which one of the Sister's should print :
" Pray fob t6e Soul op poor Cathkrinb McAulet."
This little incident shows her deep humility. She had the
highest idea of the dignity of the Heligious state, and she used
often say to the Sisters : •' There is more difference between what
you were in the world and what you are now, than there is between
the rudest peasant and the greatest princess on earth." And in
her last appeal for the prayers of the poor, she used not the title
wliich Beligioa gave her, and of which she deemed herself utterly

fLET.

icipating in mere ha-

the same Sister her
ing her to pot it in
me day she gave to
, desiring her not to
id that it contained,
were nowhere to be'
ten observed, seemed
rve" which she prac-
loant of her mortifi-
1 life was extinct, the
le attenuated frame,
out in her body the

he called the infirma-

ed to the middle of

i Sisters believed she

lire that the prayers
il, and especially the
ver been so much de-
ateness, she remarked
n charge of these to
!y happened to come;
^ up in the Servants'
int :

E McAULET."

aility. She had the
3 state, and she used
ETerenco between what
, than there is between
; on earth." And in
she used not the title
deemed herself utterly

liIPE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

435

unworthy, but her secular narae, and that still further qualified in a
manner that showed she felt ber need of the prayers she was so eager
to obtain.

About seven, she said she would like to see the Sisters indi-
vidually, and as each one came, she gave to her the spiritual ad-
vice best suited to her particular necessities ; but with every one
of them she began and ended by inculcating perfect union and
charity. To all in general she said : " My legacy to the Institute
is charity. If you preserve the peace and union which have never
yet been violated amongst us, you will feel, even in this world, a
happiness that will surprise you, and be to you a foretaste of the
bliss prepared for every one of you in heaven."

She then called again the venerable Sister M. Genevieve, who
had affectionately nursed James McAuley, the last of his aunt's
"earthly joys," and consequently was particularly dear to the dy-
ing Foundress. In the natural course of things. Sister M, Gene-
vieve's death could not be far off, and her Mother, as if to encour-
age her to think happily of it, exclaimed :

" My fears have all vanished, Sister darling. I feel exceedingly
happy." Thus did she strive to encourage and console others
when hardly able to speak herself.

To the very last she recognized every one that entered the room.
Seeing her god-child Teresa (little Sister Camillus) weeping bitterly,
she said to her : " Kiss me, my heart, and then go away, but don»t
be crying." It was not easy to obey the last injunction. She had
held Teresa at the baptismal font, she had reared and educated her,
she had been for years her spiritual Mother ; how could the poor
young Sister restrain her tears when she saw herself about to lose
the gentle guardian of her childhood ?

About half-past eight, the Holy Sacrifice w»s offered in her
room. While preparing for Mass, she called a Sister and said
that as she had been anointed without the usual ceremony, — rather
to hasten her recovery than to prepare her for death,— it would
be a comfort to her to see the Church-cloaks on the Sisters once
more. She always directed that these white cloaks should be worn
at the last anointing and burial of her Religious, as well as at Re-
ceptions and Professions : " for," said she, " the burial-service of

wmm

"LITE OF CATHEBIKE MCAULET.

a Religioas is a heavenly ceremony, more so than any Kece})tion
or Profession."

Abont eleven, her breathing became greatly oppressed, bnt, dis-
tressing as it was to make the effort, she spoke as calmly and
cordially as ever to those who visited her. On this dall JS'overa-
ber day " the sun mast have shone very brightly" to her, for in
reply to a remark of Father Gaffney's, she said : " Oh, if this be
death, it is easy indeed ;" and she repeated the same several
times. To her brother, who asked whether she had any thing pa^
ticular to say to him, she replied :

" Nothing, James, only what I have so often said before. Re-
turn to the Faith of your' Fathers." > aa- ~ t :l,-^^". > «4

She was particularly affectionate with Very Rev. Dean Meyler,
as if to show how completely she had forgiven the annoyance he
once caused her ; and, though he had never granted her any thing,
she received him as cordially as she would Bishop Blake, and said,
confidingly :

" You will be a father to my poor children when I am no more ?
I know you will."

The Dean, deeply moved, answered that he would ; and the
promise he then made was toell redeemed. In future, the Order
had no better friend.

With Rev. Messrs.Walsh, of Kingstown, O'Carroll and O'Hanlon,
of Dublin, she spoke so serenely and collectedly, that they could not
believe death was so near. To the physician, she said, pleasantly :

" Well, doctor, the scene is drawing to a close."

She then thanked him for his attention, and gratefully acknowl-
edged his kindness, though she had not been benefited by his
skill. At the vesper hour (five r. m.), she asked for the blessed
candle ; this she held firmly for some time, bat, as it burned too
brightly for her failing sight, she entreated the inflrmarian to re-
place it by a smaller one. But, weak as her sight was becoming,
■he noticed that the Sisters who surrounded her had not taken
any supper, and, with that exquisite considerateness for others,
which was always a prominent feature in her beautiful character,
she called the Sister who presided over the culinary department,
and made on effo j to whisper :

XT.

:han anj Eecqttion

oppressed, bat, di8<
lokc as calmly und
1 this dall Noveni-
htly" to her, for in
I : " Oh, if this be .
1 the same several
had any thing pa^

n said before. Re-

Rcv. Dean Meyler,
1 the annoyance he
mted her any thing,
op Blake, and said,

rhen I am no more 1

le wonld ; and the
n future, the Order

irroll and O'Hanlon,
, that they could not
she said, pleasantly :
se."

gratefully acknowl-
jn benefited by his
sked for tlie blessed
ut, as it burned too
he inflrmarian to re-
sight was becoming,

her had not taken
Tateness for others,

beautiful character,
culinary department,

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

487

" My child, the poor Sisters look greatly fatigued ; be sore yoo
have a comfortable cup of tea for them when I am gone." Some
of the Sisters had ccme from ii distance to be present at her Xaai
moments, and she feared that, for the first time, the duties of hos-
pitality might be forgotten or neglected at St. Mary's.

She continued praying and responding to the prayers for the
departing as long as she was able. Mother Elizabeth having said
for her a favorite prayer of hers, she turned her head towards her,
and said, impressively, " May God Almighty bless you, my child."
About a quarter to eight, the Sifters, fearing she did not hear tho
consoling jirayers, suggested to Mother Elizabeth, who was recit-
ing them, to raise her voice a little, which she did ; but the dying
Foundress at once said, " N^o occasion to speak so loud, my dar-
ling : I hear distinctly." A few minutes before eight, she gave an
affectionate blessing to all her children, present and absent, and
then calmly closed her eyes to open them no more. Seldom has God
summoned from earth a soul so well fitted " to deck His paradis<}."

" The poor Sisters," says the annalist, " now had recourse to
their Heavenly Father, and, with touching earnestness, prated
Him to receive their cherished Mother, and to look with com-
passion ou themselves. They besought grace to become worthy of
their sainted guide, and calm resignation to sustain their heavy
affliction.

" The death of any one to whom the survivor has been united is
a bereavement — it « hard to look the thought full in the face that
we shall never see such a one agam. But when that one has been
light to one's feet, the stay and encouragement of moments of trial
— moments when God's servant is so necessary to expiniu God's
dealings, and to point out the opening dawn in the dark night-
time—the removal of such a one is, for a while at least, a foretaste
of death to those who remain behind. Accustomed to rely and
confide and lovingly obey, and thinking of nothing else, when the
spring of activity breaks, everything appears in confusion — i,o want
an aim and a use. Thus, for a moment, the poor Sisteni found
themselves, when they sank on their knees to beg God's prcitection,
and to end by saying, as Jesus had said before them, * Not my
will, heavenly Father, but thine be done 1'"

438

LITE OP catherhtk mcatilkt.

Great as this affliction was, it had nonA of the marks of an
angry cross ; " there was no disanion, no gloomy depression of
spirits resulting from it." The orphan Sisters exclaimed, with one
accord, " God's will be done ;" and they " loved Him •as well when
He took, as when He gave." Besides, they were determined to
keep her precious remains ; and when, on Friday, the Archbishop
paid his visit of condolence to the Community, he gave permission
to have the part of the garden the Foundress had designed for a
cemetery consecrated.

Even this singularly accorded with her wishes ; for the expense
of procuring the kind of coffins necessary to prevent the deleterious
effects decomposition might produce in a pnblic church, did not
seem to her to be in accordance with the perfection of poverty,
and she often said, " When I go, I hope I shall be laid in the
eartii like the poor."

It is almost unnecessary to say that every thing appertaining to
the Foundress was seized by her orphan children. Her books,
articles of clothing, autograph letters, etc, are still preserved with
veneration. Her successor in office, M. M. di Fazzi Delany, with
con«'iierate kindness, sent some littjp memento of the sainted
Mother to each of the distant convents. Miracles are said to
have bcou wronjrhl ivith some of these, and the late pious and
talented Mother Mary V. Hartnett, of Roscommon, has left it
on record that she "never a°ked God to grant her any favor,
thronjjh the merits of His servant CatlK.rlne," without obtaining her
re.;.i;est. Only the oldest Sisters ever prayed for her, and this they
did in consequence of a promise they had made her. The Bequiem
Mass, usually celebrated in every House of the Order, on the 11th of
November, is oflFered for the deceased members of the Institute.

On Saturday, 13th November, 1841, Catherine McAuley was
" laid in the earth like the poor," her old and devoted friend. Dr.
Kinsella, Bishop of Ossory, presiding. Archbishop Murray, on
account of illness, was unable to attend, and Bishop Ein.selia,
therefore, preached tbe funeral oration of her whom he did not
hesitate to c^il '' tlic Saint." Five bishops and sixty priests cele-
brated hcT obsequi. "\\d foliov.d her to the grave. A little more
than a month bcfo:a her death, she had attained her fifty-fourth

:<BT.

LIFB OF CATHEBINi: MOAULBT.

439

of the marks of an
)omy depression of
exclaimed, with one
1 Him -as well when
nrere determined to
ay, the Archbishop
he gave permission
had designed for a

es ; for the expense
vent the deleterious
)lic church, did not
•fection of poverty,
hall be laid in the

ling appertaining to
Idren. Her books,

still preserved with
Pazzi Delany, with
ato of the sainted
[iracles are said to
the late pious and
:onmion, has left it
rant her any favor,
ithont obtaining her
)r her, and this they
her. The Requiem
)rder, onthellthof
of the Institute,
erinc McAnley was
devoted friend. Dr.
bishop Murray, on
1 Bisliop EiiiHcIia,

whom he did not
id sixty priests cele-
ave. A little more
led her fifty-fourth

year.* A small cross, bearing her name and the date of her
death, marks the spot where her sacred remains repose, but her
noblest monument is the Order of Mercy. In a few days, her
children who slept at St. Teresa's were brought home and depos-
ited around her.

Catherine McAuley was above the middle size, rather slight in
youth, but in after life, full though not corpulent. Her figure was
very fine — erect and well-proportioned ; she moved or sat with
utmost grace. At any period of her life she might be pronounced
handsome, for ^ears and sorrows dealt very gently with her beauty;
but there was a something in her look superior to beauty, which
cliarmed every beholder. Her complexion was transparently fair,
iier cheeks rosy, her eyes were deeply, dorkly, beautifully blue ; her
features well formed, her contour soft. Serenity and intelligence
beamed on her countenance, but benevolence was its prevailing ex-
pression. Her eyes were singularly expressive, and her glance so
penetrating, that with a look she seemed to read your inmost soul.
Those who had given her cause of displeasure, almost quailed
before her eye, till reassured by her smile. Her hands and feet,
though not •" aristocratically small," were well shaped and in pro-
portion. In the phrenological formation of her head, the organs
of benevolence and veneration were very strongly developed.

No accurate likeness of the Foundress exists, as there never was
one taken during her life. After her death a sculptor was em-
ployed to take a cast of her features, and the Sister frequently
mentioned in her letters in connection with the fine arts, painted
in oil a life-size portrait, which Is considered tolerably correct,
though taken from a corpse. She is represented in a sitting pos-
ture, clothed in the costume of her Order, and holding the book of
the Knles. Her eyes are very beautiful, her hps somewhat thin,
and the formation of the mouth indicative of much firmness.
Her hands are fair, plump, and finely shaped. The expression of
the countenance is serene and dignified, the posture easy and grace-
ful, and the tout ensemble very pleasing. The original is in Baggot-

■ iiy i n i-| «^H W if ^ i ;! < ij i M >w

440

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCaULEY.

t .

Street,* but several other convents possess copies. Every one
acquainted with Motbei McAuley bears witness that her very look
inspired love of virtue, and that her whole demeanor evinced cor-
Btant recollection of the presence of God. " Her deportment was
ever kind and compassionate to the poor," says one of her biogra-
phers, " and ever maternal to the Sisters," They loved her as a
mother, and revered her as a Saint, while she venerated them as
spouses of Christ, and loved them as her most dear children. She
one 3 admitted that she had seen " human weakness " in a Sister,
but such were her heroic charity and the immense allowances she
made for natural character, early training, peculiarities of con-
stitution, and other accidental circumstances, that in her volum-
inous correspondence which is always addressed to her subjects,
and in which she is constantly speaking of her inferiors, she never
charges any one with a positive fault.

Bishops and divines who revered her, and Sisters who loved her
intensely, have sought to portray !n;r character, but this will be
best done in the words which she herself applied to a Sister in

1839 : " Sister Mary C f is a delightful addition— always

recollected, but never too solemn — no show of any kind, but every-
thing valuable shows itself continually. She is evidently selected
for a great work — every day becomes more pleasing and amiable
— she yields to the opinion of others like a little child, and you feel
irresistibly drawn to hers, by the very manner in which she sub-
mits. She teaches me by her example what genuine meekness
and humility are,"

The Sisters, to evince their affection for dear Reverend Mother's
memory, and to honor her Patron Saint, changed the title of Bag-
got-street Convent from St. Mary's to St, Catherine's. Nor have
they been without a confident hope that their own Saint Catherine

* Tho likeness in this booli is taken from a small portrait executed from momor;
by ono of the Sisters, Though not exprosiivo of all the ease and sweetness of the
original, it is a fairly, accurate likeness,

t This Sister was an English convert of high birth, and so singularly gifted by
nature and education, that her friends declared they never would give her in mar-
riage to any one less than a prince ! She kept them to their word, and espoused
the King of heaven. However, she was nearly forty years old before they could
be prevailed on to part with her.

^mm

mma

BY.

LIFB OF CATHEBINE MOaULET.

441

jopies. Every one
3 that her very look
leanor evinced coi-
ler deportment was

one of her biogra-
hey loved her as a

venerated them as
dear children. She
kness" in a Sister,
mse allowances she
eculiarities of cou-
that in her volura.
ed to her subjects,

inferiors, she never

sters who loved her
er, but this will be
plied to a Sister in
il addition — always
any kind, but every-
is evidently selected
leasing and amiable
e child, and you feel
: in which she snb-
t genuine meekness

Reverend Mother's
ed the title of Bag-
lierine's. Nor have
wn Saint Catherine

t executed from momor;
use and sweetness of the

1 ao singularly gifted by
r would give her in mar-
leir word, and espoused
rs old before they could

will one day participate in the title and the honors of the Saint
of Sienna.

Tlie Order of Mercy commenced in Ireland 1827, was introduc-
ed into England in 1839, to Newfoundland 1842, to the United
States 1843, to Australia 1845, to Scotland 1849, to New Zealand
1849, and to South America in 1856. Ac present (1866) the
number of convents is over two hundred, and the members of the
Order over three thousand. Considering that more than half the
Sisters join the Institute under twenty, and nearly all under twen-
ty-eight or thirty, the mortality is very large. It was twenty-five
per cent, the first ten years of the existence of the Order, and has
since been above ten per cent. ; and amotij: all the Sisters of Mercy
scattered over the world, there are scarcely twelve who have at-
tained the age of fifty. Mother McAuIey used to say that, sub-
tracting the period of novitiate and that of declining health, few
of her children would give much more than ten years of active
service to the Order. Just ten years she gave herself, but what a
service hers was I

Between endowments and the surplus dowries of the Sisters, the
poor in Ireland have received, through this Order alone, during the
first thirty years of its existence, three million five hundred thou-
sand dollars.* In England the amount is proportionally great,
rnd the aggregate sum given by bequest in both countries must be
very large, but we cannot ascertain the exact amount.

In a letter alluding to the affairs of Kingstown Convent, Cath-
erine McAuley wrote with exqusite simplicity : " God knows that
I would rather be cold and hungry than that His poor should suf-
fer want." How would she have felt had she lived to see her un-
happy country depopulated at the rate of " a million a decade " by
famine, pestilence, and eciigruilcu ?

* Very Rev. Dr. O'Brien gives the amount as jeTOO.OOO.
19*

1 ■..( ,li:.:

• Lc„ Ji^U'

i;'*.

CHAPTER XLII.

Letter of Bishop Blaks.— Letter of Dr. Oaffney, Dean of Maynooth.— Obituary,
from the Halifax RegitUr.

FROM the letters of condolence that flowed into Baggot-street
after the death of the Foundress, we select two, written re-
spectively fty the Bishop of Dromore and the Dean of Maynooth,
who, as her intimate friends and sometimes her spiritual directors,
were well qualified to speak of her. The former writes :

" We have all reason to weep at the loss which Ireland nnd
England have sustained in the death of the crer-memorable Foun-
dress of the Order of MERcr. A more zealous, prudent, disin-
terested and successful benefactress of the human race, has not
existed since the days of St. Bridget.* She has been taken from
us after bestowing incalculable services and benefits on her fello;v-
creatures. What she accomplished would suffice to attach celebrity
to many individuals. Her course was long enough to render her
name immortal among the virtuous. But judging what she would
do had she been left longer amongst us, from what she executed
amidst difficulties and trials of no ordinary magnitude, we cannot
but lament her departure, and we are tempted to exclaim : ' Oh,
it was too soon i' But Qod's holy will be adored at all times ; to
Him we are indebted for all that she did ; from Hira she received
the spirit that animated her pure soul. His Providence guided her
steps, removed her difficulties, strengthened her heart, and ensured

* Tlie thouBandB of virgins who, in the palmloRt days of the Irish Church,
served Qod under t.ho Kiilo of tlie groat St. Bridget, (t'\ero are fourteen St.
Bridgets coinuiemoru*od in the Irish calendar), were not cloUtored, though
bound by tlio vows of Ucliglon, They chanted the office in choir, but at stated
bourn performed tlio works of mercy towards their loss favored follow-oreaturos,
Porhnps this ia wliy Uight Bov. Dr. Blake alH-\}'s puts St Bridget nud Catherine
McAuley together.

HMB

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

443

Maynooth.— Obituary,

into Baggot-street
ct two, written re-
•ean of Maynooth,
spiritual directors,
r writes :

which Ireland find
T-mcmorable Foun-
ous, prudent, disin-
mari race, has not
3 been taken from
fits on her felloiy-
to attach cciebrity
ugh to render her
ig what she would
vhat she executed
jnitude, we cannot
to exclaim : ' Oh,
d at all times ; to
Him she received
vidence guided her
beart, and ensured

of the Irish Church,
ere are fourteen St.
ot cloistered, though
n choir, but at stated
3red fullow-oreaturos.
iridgct Hiid Catherine

her success. By His ever-watchful care and ever-assisting grace,
CTcry opportunity of doing good was turned to advantage, every
undertaking well prcconsidered, every work made yolid and perma-
nent ; and though her sojourn here was, alas ! too short for our
wishes, it was, nevertheless, so far prolonged as to have enabled
her to finish the great machine she planned and constructed for
the glory of God, the salvation of souls, and the corporal relief of
the destitute. Let the holy will of God fie ever adored — let us
bless His name at all times ; and in this moment of bereavement,
while we lament the loss such a removal has occasioned, let us be
grateful for the benefits conferred, and profit of the good example
still fresh before our minds.

"Most earnestly and sincerely do I sympathize with all the
members of the Holy Order of Mercy. Most ardently do I be-
seech the God of all consolation to pour His healing balm into
their woundi^d feelings, and in this trying conjuncture, while their
hearts are mellowed with love, grief, and gratitude, to fill them all
with the spirit of prayer. Although the Foundress was holy, and
eminently holy, still she was a human being, liable to human
temptations and infirmities, and obliged daily to repeat that hal-
lowed petition — ' Forgive us our trespasses,' Let us now be
mindful of her, and by our fervent supplications obtain for her, if
indeed she need it, the entire remission of the smallest debt which
could retard her admission into the realms of bliss.

" Your letter, dear Sister, reached me just as I was going to the
Altar this mri-ning. On seeing the black seal I hastily opened it,
and my heart m intensely filled with grief; but this was useful, I
hope, in making me offer the Divine Sacrifice of propitiation for
the happy repose of that dear, departed friend, whom I ever
esteemed and reverenced, and whose memory I shall ever value and
revere."

Very Rev. Dr. Gaffney wrote as follows :

" It is not necessary, in speaking of the revered Foundress of the
Sistars of Mercy, to conjure np an imaginary picture of perfection
and benevolence, and then apply it to the character we wish to
praise. No : her eulogy would be written by the mere mention of
one hundredth part of what she has done for suffering and destituto

444

LIFE OF CATHMBINB MCAULET.

hnmanity. In 1830 she entered tbe Presentation Conrent, George's
Fill, to prepare herself for the great work she was about to aader-
take. In 1831 she began the foundation of the Order of Mercy,
and in 1841 she died. How short the time, yet how wonderful
the works of that mighty mind — of that expansive heart. They
would hardly seem credible, had they not happened in our own
time, and passed nuder oar own eyes.

"This great and good woman had three objects in \io\\ ,u
founding the Order of Mercy — the instraction of poor girls, the
visiting and relief of the sick, and the spiritual and temporal
care of distressed women of good character ; and far beyond her
own most sanguine expectations she succeeded in realizing her
desures. Whoever visits the schools of Baggot-street will be con-
soled and delighted by the scene that presents itself to his view
But what shall I say of her charity towards poor servants who
had no resource, no friends, no home? She built a house for
them, she supported them, she clothed them, she instructed them,
she provided situations for thousands of them. K all this good
has been effected by one convent of the Order of Mercy, how much
may be effected by the fourteen convents she was instrumental in
establishing ?

" Pew ever left this world that could with greater confidence
expect to hear, on the great accounting day, from the lips of our
Divine lledeemer, 'Come, you blessed of my Father, possess
the kingdom prepared for you ; for I was hungry, and you gave
me to eat ; I was thirsty, and you gave me to drink ; I was a
stranger, and you took me in ; naked, and yon covered mo ; sick,
and yon visited me; I was in prison, and yon came to me. As much
as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me.'

" Catherine McAnley's death was such as might be expected
from a life replete with good works. It was the death of the just,
which is precious in the sight of the Lord. Her soul was calm and
joyful, and perfectly rchigned to the Divine will. The Sisters of
Mercy have one more advocate in heaven. May their Order pros-
per 1 May they ever keep before their eyes the example left them
by their Foundress. May they ever imitate her virtues, and they
will have glory before Qod and man."

[iET.

LIPB OF CATHERINE MCAULET.

445

in Convent, George's
was about to under-
the Order of Mercy,
yet how wonderful
jansive heart. They
ppened in our own

J objects in vio^\ m
n of poor girls, the
ritual and temporal

and far beyond her
led in realizing her
ot-street will be con-
nts itself to his view
8 poor servants who
e built a house for
she instructed them,
m. If all this good
of Mercy, how much

was instrumental in

th greater confidence
from the lips of our
my Father, possess
lungry, and you gave
) to drink ; I was a
m covered me ; sick,
;ame to me. As much
•en, you did it to me.'
s might be expected
the death of the just,
[er soul was calm and
will. The Sisters of
May their Order pros-
the example left them
her virtues, and they

Of the numerous obituaries that appeared, we give the.followiDg,
abridged from the Halifax Register:* ',; rniti.jaa s?.:

" The amiable Foundress of the Order of Mercy has departed to
that land ' where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary
are at rest.' Ireland proclaims the loss to be a national one, and
a thousand hearts lament it with the deep intensity of domestic
sorrow. Many a houseless orphan, to whom her institution gave a
■resting-place ; many a straying one, to whom it gave virtue and a
name ; many a child of poverty, to whom it opened the ample
pages of sacred and profane learning, will gaze with a tearful eye
and a full heart on the grave of Catherine McAuley 1 It is not to
be wondered at that one of the most saintly prelates of the Irish
Church has declared that, since the days of St. Bridget, his country
has seen no such benefactress. 4-4 Act -fti ^^^fcji yi.:-

" At an early age, Catherine was adopted by a rich Protestant
fauiiiy, and she lived to see the venerable parents of her adoption
received into the Catholic Church. She became heiress to their
immense wealth, having previously become, through her own great
merit, the object of their affection, respect, and admiration. And
truly, few could bo found so transcendantly fascinating in person
and manner as the venerated Foundress. The bright intelligence
of her all-accompUshed mind addressed you in every glance of her
calm, but penetrating eye ; and as it diffused itself over her fea-
tures, cast in the finest mould of benevolence, but on which passion
had never left trace or shadow, you could scarcely imagine any ono
physically or iutellectnally superior to the Foundress of the Order
of Mercy. Before her death, she beheld her Institute diffusing its
blessings throughout the length and breadth of the land. Hun-
dreds of consecrated virgms owned her epuritual parentage with
pride, and, taught by her example and instruction, ministered like
angels of light at the death-beds of penury, and in haunts of misery
and destitution. For some years she had become the centre of

* In a lute memoir of the FoundresB, this obituary is not correctly quoted.

Througli tlie kindness of Motlier Elizabeth 8 , of Pittsburg, wlio loaned us

the original, wo ore enabled to give a correct copy. Wo have made one omis-
sion— the reason which delayed Dr. O'Brien in Dublin, 1883— wUioh, of oonne,
would bu irrelevant here. -r^Aoo^ li^ij /t ■'M^ti ;, >U iiv

wmm

■ AAA

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

attraction to the h\^ and titled of the three kingdoms. Her
time was much occupied in bestowing those attentions which the
distingnished cf every coantry demanded from her high position
and exalted character. No variety of intercourse could exhanst
the versatility of her conversational powers, no difference of char-
acter could baflle her penetration. Whether her visitor were a
votary of this world or the next, he quitted her presence in aston-
ishment at her powers, and in admiration of her virtues.

" But Nova Scotia itself owes Mother McAaley and her Order
a debt of gratefnl remembrance, which no country could be more
ready to acknowledge. Very Eev. Dr. O'Brien had a considerable
delay in Ireland between the period of his engagement by Most
Bev. Archbishop Murray, and that of his departure for Halifax.
It was natural that the possibility of introducing the Order into
this province should become the object of his thoughts. He had
been engaged to deliver a few lectures to the nuns of Tul'amore.
Their convent had just been built at an expenditure of some
thousands. The community comprehended many accomplished
young ladies, who had recently abandoned their happy homes ; yet,
at the bare mention of the wants of a new country, every indi-
vidual of the community offered to abandon friends and country to
encounter poverty and privation in Nova Scotia.

"Some- time after, the same clergyman's surprise at the self-
devotion of the children, was not a little increased by the heroism
of the parent. He preached in Dublin to a numerous community,
including the venerable and lamented Foundress. He expressed a
hope that a branch of the Order of Mercy might be introduced
into Halifax by its respected Prelate. After a few days, when
Catherine McAuley, unknown to the world, had contemplated the
sacrifice she was about to make — li sacrifice much exaggerated by
false notions of our climate and state of society — she declared her
intention of devoting herself, if permitted, for the rest of her days,
to Nova Scotia. To every representation of the loss that would
accrue to her native country, she calmly replied : ' The Institute
does not require me at home. It has young, intelligent, and de-
voted children, and I may be fit for the rough work to be encoun-
tered in a ne.v region.' When spoken to regarding the funds

,EY.

LIFE OF CATHEBINE MCAULEY.

417

ree kingdoms. Her
ittentions which the
a her high position
ourse could exhanst
) difference of char-
r her visitor were a
If presence in aston-
er Tirtues.

Lnley and her Order
intry could be more
n had a considerable
engagement by Most
jarture for Halifax,
icing the Order into

thoughts. He had

nuns of Tul'amore.
ixpenditure of some

many accomplished
ir happy homes ; yet,

country, every indi-
riends and country to
ia.

surprise at the self-
eased by the heroism
umerous community,
iss. He expressed a
might be introduced
sr a few days, when
ad contemplated the
nnch exaggerated by
ity — she declared her
> the rest of her days,
' the loss that would
tiled : ' The Institute
y, intelligent, and de-
i work to be eacoun-

regarding the funds

necessary for such an object, she smiled, and said : ' For ourselves
we need none. We shall teach a day-school in addition to the
poor-school ; and yon know not, Sir, upon how little a nun can
live.'

" We have dwelt, perhaps, too fondly on these details ; but
the recollection of Mother McAuley calls up associations endear-
ing by their holiness, and by the remembrance of the country which
they bless whUe it cherishes them. She is gone I The blessed
benefactress of her race had not the coveted happiness of closing
her eyes in this distant region ; bat there is no child of the Faith
vMch she professed, of the religion for which she lived, and in
whose service she yielded her last breath, that will not cherish the
remembrance of her heroic virtues."

r-cK .'.'t ''.

«tt, ,\- ft \

i^s>rt !'it''w)i"i'' m;

iW'j^

v:^

iZi^-

'a^-^^^ CHAPTER XLIII.

Mother MoAuIey's views on various snbjeots. — Gentleness.— St. Anaelm.—
St. Catherine of Bologna. — Sweetness and condescension. — Importance of
the education of women.— Patron Saints.— Amusing anecdote.— Converts.—
Kegnlar observance.— Works of literature and art.— M. I'Abb^ Gron.—
Mother MoAuley's special devotions. — Her abstraction.— Her appreciation of
the Sisters.- Her unbounded confidence in them.— Profession and renovation.

—Prayer.— De La Mennaia.

'*■ ■■

TO the last, Mother McAuley paid the same attention to the
manners of the Sisters. "A Religious," she would say,
" should be a perfect lady. As spouse of Christ, her manners
should be dignified ; as modeled on Christ, she should ever bo
sweet, kind, and gracious." To a Superior who urged her to ad-
mit a young person with whom she was unacquainted, she wrote :
" If her manners are not plain, if she is rather nice than otherwise,
I think they could take her in Galway. You would not bring dis-
credit on me ; and if the little lady is not such as I describe, you
will tell me." St. Mary Magdalen di Pazzi desired that her
novices should be a« uncultivated as wild deer. How diflferent is
Reverend Mother's opinion I Yet what would suit Carmelites, des-
tined to live between the cell and the choir, might be very wnsuit-
able for Sisters of Mercy, established to edify and instruct the
world, and to seek outside the cloister to relieve Jesus Christ io
His suffering members. The Foundress would never admit any
one whose manners were not calculated to win respect. Even in Lay
Sisters, she looks- for " manners and appearance suitable to persons
who must be seen in public." If the Sisters were to be employed
only in saving their own souls, all this would be superfluous. But
they had also to labor for the salvation of their neighbor, in the
manner their Rule directs. They had to confer with physicians in
hospit4l8, with inspectors in schools, with persons of every rank

.:\

LlfE OF CATHEBIKK MCaULEY.

449

itleness. — St. AoBelm.—
ension. — Iinportauce of
anecdote. — Converts.—
t.— M. VAbhi Gron.—
1. — Her Appreciation of
>fe»slon and renovation.

ae attention to the
!," she would say,
Dhrist, her manners
she should ever bo
10 urged her to ad-
nainted, she wrote :
nice than otherwise,
nrould not bring dis-
ss I describe, you
d desired that her
•. How different is
suit Carmelites, dcs-
ght be very wnsuit-
Fy and instruct the
eve Jesus Christ in
d never admit any
spect. Even in Lay
i suitable to persous
rere to be employed
e superfluous. But
iir neighbor, in the
r with physicians in
sons of every rauk

and profession in the parlors. Now, if fliey could not, on all occasions,
appear before the world as gentlewomen, religion would be the suf-
ferer. Hence, she continually impressed on them that each one of
them had the reputation of the whole Order to sustain ; that, while
individual virtues are reputed to their owners, individual faults are
charged upon th3 whole Institute ; and that upon the reputation the
Order sustains, depends, in a great measure, its power of doing good.
She took every possible precaution before receiving a Sister, but once
entered, all were treated with democratic impartiality — the gover-
ness, the daughter of a merchant or professional man, the reduced
lady, the simple country-girl, and the countess who had laid aside
the coronet to assume the veil — all performed the same duties; there
were no distinctions — virtue was the only aristocracy acknowledged
by the Foundress ; and, if she valued talent, as she certainly did,
it was only when it became the handmaid of virtue. In the novi-
tiate and community-room, all conversations tending to nourish
family pride were prohibited ; one Sister seldom knew who the
other was — the Foundress had made the necessary inquuies, and,
once inside the walls, all were known only as Spouses of Jesns
Christ, Sisters of Mercy, and Servants of the Poor.

To the end, she practised the same unfailing gentleness to every
one. "I have tried all methods of governing," says St. Jane
Frances de Chantal, " and I have always found that to be best
which is based on meekness and condescension." Our Foundress
could not say as much : she had never tried any method bat one,
and that was the gentlest of the gentle. When any thing was to
be done, she entreated in the humblest terms — a command never
issued from her lips. Her very manner of addressing the Sisters
won them. Whether in speaking or writing to them, she alwuys
prefaced her remarks by some endearing epithet, as "my dearest
child," "my heart,"* "my darling," etc. She loved to yield to
them as much as possible, and, like St. Anselm, she took this
method to prove that she had become a little child for the king-
dom of heaven. She strove even to gratify their inclinations, and,
when she could not do so, she was sure to make up for the disap-

• Alachrtt, " my lieart," is a common term of endearment in Ireland, A still
warmer expression, Outhla machrer, " pulse of my heart," is also common.

matm

460

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

poiatment in some way or other. " Sister M. Teresa," she wrote,
" must come with me to Carlow, to the ceremony ; she was so
disappointed at not going to the consecration of the chapel, that I
must bring her this time." She condescended to the harmi ss
peculiarities of every one — weak with the weak, and strong with
the strong, she was all things to all, that she might gain all to
Christ ; and when unable to grant a request, or net on a su/j^es-
tion, her refusal was couched in terms that placed you under a new
compliment.

The nuns of St. Catheriuf of Bologna often complained that
their Rule lost its force because of the excessive lenity of the
Saint, who never could see a fault in any of them ; and when their
faults were pointed out to her, she would manifest the preatest
surprise, and obstinately refuse to see them as faults. Similar
objections might be urged against Mother McAuley's government,
but they would be urged in vain, for she thought that, by their
very name, Sisters of Mercy, her children were bound to pourtray
to the world tlio sweetness of Jesus ; and how could she expect
them to do this if she did not set them the example ? " The doc-
trine of Christ surpasseth the doctrines of the saints," and He was
the meek '* Lamb that taketh away the sins of the world." This
sweetness, this pliability, is not a mark of weakness, but of
strength ; those who exercise it from supernatural motives, have
the power of acting in a contrary manner ; and that they prefer to
exercise the meekness of Jesus, proves that they have perfectly
overcome themselves, and thus achieved the greatest of all vic-
tories. " He who prevents his neighbor with the blessings of his
sweetness," says St. Fr lucis de Sales, " is the the most perfect
imitator of our Lord."

The following exquisite passage from the same Saint will de-
scribe Mother McAuley no les^ accurately than it does St. An-
selm :

" When St. Anselm was Abbot, he was extremely beloved by
every one, because he was very condescending, bending to the
wishes of all. One said to liim, ' Father, take a little broth,' and
ho took some. Ano'her sai \ 'Father, that will do you harm,'
and he directly leit it. Thui he submitted, in every thing that

LET.

Tcrosa," she wrote,
pinony ; fihe was so
»f the chapel, that I
cd to the harnii ss
lak, and strong with
le might gain all to

or act on a su.r(?es-
:ed you under a new

en complained that
;essive lenity of the
3m ; and when their
lanifest the prcatest
as fanlts. Similar
A.uley's government,
lught that, by their
e bound to pourtray
w could she expect
ample ? " The doo-
saints," and He was
f the world." This
weakness, but of
itnral motives, have
1 that they prefer to
they have perfectly
greatest of all vic-
the blessings of his
le the most perfect

same Saint will de-
an it does St. Au-

ctremely beloved by
ng, bending to the
) a little broth,' and
will do you harm,'
in every thing that

LIFE OF CATHERINE MOAULET.

451

did not offend God, to the will of his brothers, who, no doubt, fol-
lowed their own inclinations. Now this great pliancy of the Saint
was II' pproved by all, tiiough he was very much beloved by all;
so that one day some of his brethren poii ted out to him that he
ought not to be so yielding and condescending, but to make those
of whom he had charge bend to his will. ' Oh, my children,' re-
plied the great Saint, ♦ perhaps you are not aware of the reaHon
why I do it. Know, then, that remembering our Lord's command
tiiat we should do to others what we would wish done to ourselves^
I cannot do otherwise, for I wish that God should do my will, and
I willingly do that of my brothers and neighbors, in order that it
may please our good God sometimes to do mine. Besides, I have
tlii^ consideration, that after God's own signification of His will to
t' me, I can have no bett'r or more secure means of ajscertaining
His good pleasure, than by the voice of my neighbor ; for God
does not speak to me, still less does He send angels to declare to
me His good pleasure. The stones, animals, and plants do not
speak. It is only man that can make known to me the will of my
God, ainl therefore I attach myself to this as much as I can. God
enjoins me charity towards my neighbor; it is great charity to keep
ourselves in union with each other. I know no better way of do-
ing this than by being gentle and condescending ; a sweet and
humble condescension should always preside over our actions. But
my principal consideration is the belief that God man iests His
will to me by that of my brothers; and, therefore, I obey God when
I yield to them. Besides, has not our Lord said that if we do not
become like little children we shall not enter heaven ? Do not be
surprised, then, if I am as gentle and yielding as a little rliild, for
I am thus doing what my Saviour has commanded me. i is not
of much consequence whether I go there or stay here, but there
would be great imperfection in not submitting to my neighbor in
these things.' 'I know nothing better,' says the gloriou'* St.
Paul, ' than to render myself all things to all men, to rejiacc vith
them that rejoice, to weep with them that weep, and, in short, to
make yself one with each.' "*

Conference on the Will of God.

■*«*I!P

452

LIFE OF CATHERINE M-AULEY.

Mother McAulcy was of opinion that the perfect observance of
Rule was the greatest of all mortifications ; that occasioual severe
disciplines, prolonged vigils, and severe fasts, were incomparably
more easy than persevering exactness in observiig the common
Rules every day. With regard to corporal roortificaliotis, she
thought great prudence ought to be used, and she makes none ob-
ligatory on the Sisters, except a few additional fast-days. Sha
would never give any one permission to perform severe nnsteritiva
who could not lead the common life perfectly, without requhing a
dispensation from any of its observances ; nor would she iillow any
that could incapacitate them in the least for the duties timy are
bound by vow to fulfil to the poor, which are always fatiguing
enough, and sometimes very great mortifications. She was, how-
ever, never weary of recommending mortifications of a nobler and
more useful description than tiio hair shirt or catanella, such
as mortification of the eyes, of the other senses, mortification of
the tongue, which, though the most useful of all, can never, as St.
Teresa remarks, hurt any one's health. She preferred frequent
small acts, that escaped the notice of others, and never hindered
the Sisters from applying to their duties, to great acts, which can
only be performed occasionally, especially in an Order devoted to
the works of Mercy, and which are often dangerous, as attracting
observation, or, at least, tempting the performer to congratulate
herself, like the Pharisee, on not being " as the rest of people."
Whatever mortifications she herself performed — and they were
neither light nor few, for we know it took many a stroke of the
chisel to make of unhewn human nature so exquisite a statue—
they never hindered her from applying to her duties. She would
have deemed it absurd to use the discipline to-day, and require
something better than the common fare to-morrow ; to weaken her-
self by fasting, und then be obliged to go to bed, neglect her duties,
or burden otheri^ with them, and put a Sister to the trouble of
waiting ou her.

Mother McAuley considered all society to be in the hands of
women ; if wives were good, they could save their husbands ; if
sisters were good, they could convert their brothers ; if mothers
were good, they could rear their children well. She delighted to

LEY.

orfcct (.hseiTance of
lat occasioual severe
, were incomparably
serving ihc common
1 roortificationn, she

she makes uone ob-
onal fast-days. 9H
•m severe nnsteriti^a
, without requiriDg a

would she ;illow any

the duties tlicy are
are always fatiguing
ions. She was, how-
ions of a nobler and
t or catanella, such
nses, mortification of

all, can never, as St
de preferred frequent
!, and never hindered

;reat acts, which can

in Order devoted to
igerous, as attracting
rmer to congratulate

the rest of people."
med — and they were
many a stroke of the
> exquisite a statue—
T duties. She would

e to-day, and require
)rrow ; to weaken he^
jed, neglect her duties,
iter to the trouble of

) be in the hands of

re their husbands ; if

brothers ; if mothers

Bll. She delighted to

LIFK OF CATHERINE MOAULEY.

453

pithcr poor little ones about her, to make them happy and to sur-
round them with holy and gentle influences. She would never
hear of severity with them. " Theie is a way to deal with them,"
she would say. If children are made to feel that their teachers
are their best friends, it will be easy to manage them ; but as she
says, speaking on another subject, " if our own hearts be not af-
fected," if we do not realize the importance of performing our duties
veil, " in vain shall we hope to affect the hearts" or iustinict the
minds of those with whom we come in contact. '■- " "

As regards patron saints, the Foundress wished the Si3ters to
choose those whom they could best imitate. There was St. Agnes,
for those who entered very young ; St. Clare, for such as had a
great spirit of poverty ; St. Cecilia, for the musicians ; St. Cathe-
rine, the philosopher, for the bos bleus ; St. Jane Frances, St.
Paula, etc., for widows. She preferred female Saints as patrons
for the Sisters ; but if they were particularly devoted to the
others, she conceded to their wishes. Afterwards, however, she
would playfully revenge herself by styling them, " My fine boys."
She would, if possible, induce them to be satisfied with the fem-
inine of the names they wanted, as Josephine for Joseph, Aloysia
for Aloysius, Paulina for Paul, etc. In addressing each other, she
wished them always to prefix Mary to the pntronal name, thus,
Sister Mary Frances, etc. She was very particular about this.*

* She 0DC6 related a droll anecdote in conneotion with this subject. Her
brother-in-law being called in for consultation to a very bud case of fever in
tome convent, noticed that several of tlic nuns who surrounded the patient,
spoke T)f " John," " Paul," '• Vincent," " Joseph," eta, without prefixing the
usual Sitter Mary. The Doctor, who caught an odd word of their discourse,
vos greatly puzzled to know what this meant. Dissembling his surprise till bin
return home, he told the affair to his sister, at dinner, after thus accosting her:

" Why, Kittle, how is it that you never told me they had men among them in
that convent V .

She explained about the nana having patron saints ; but her brother's guests
could not, or would not, understand her. One of the gentlemen muttered
something about " the scent of the roses," alluding to a popular song which
has this couplet :

" You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will.
But the scent of the roses v/ili bang round it still.''

This set the whole comj)any laughing. The future Foundress smiled with the
rest, but the lesson wan not lost on her. Indeed, it was the critiques i-lie some'

451

LIFK OF CATHEBINE MCAULST.

She often said, that if seculars perceived in Religions the least
defects contrary to good breeding, they often unjustly drew the
conclusion that it was only good-for-nothing persons, who would
not bi- tolerarod in refined society, that entered Religion ; and such
an inference, with reference to an active Order, as tbe Order of
Mercy, would be most detrimental to the glory of God and the
salvation of souls.

Mother McAuley had the utmost consideration for converts.
" Those who have been always among Catholics," she would say,
"can have no idea of the rank prejudice in which most Protestants
are reared. Every thing in the Catholic religion is new to them.
They have continually heard it misrepresented, and it requiires ex-
traordinary grace to overcome prejudices which are as firmly rooted
as if they were born with them." But while eager to make every
necessary allowance for these things, she was opposed to that glo-
rification of converts so common in many instances, as if, forsooth,
Protestants deserved extraordinary credit for preferring a little
temporal inconvenience, to the fate of those who, being enlightened,
refuse to confess Christ before men. She often deplored the hold
human respect has on our separated brethren, and which more than
any thing else, blinds them to conviction. She regretted, too, that
some, who were willing their friends should become Catholics, re-
fused to bend their own necks to the sweet yoke of Jesus Christ.*
She had a peculiar talent, or, rather, a grace, for working the con-
version of Protestants, though she never introduced controversy.

Mother McAuley's zeal for regular observances was such, that
no public exercise was ever neglected in her convent. " The per-
fection of ordinary actions," this was a favorite theme with her.
When writiiig, or otherwise occupied, she was often seen to panse
and direct her glance heavenward, after which she resumed her

times heard on nun>, while yet a secular, that made her so scrupulously exact
with reference to intercourse with worldlings.

* Thus Lord Byron, who sent his daughter to a convent, writes : " I iiuva
placed my daughter AUegra in a convent of the Romagna, at much expense, for
her educutinn. It is my wi»h that she should be a Roman Catholic, whioli reli-
gion I look upou as tho best, os it assuredly is the oldest, of the varioni
braavhes of Christianity." ,

[JLKT.

a Religioas the least
tea unjustly drew the
5 persons, who would
id Religion; and such
rder, as ibe Order of
;lory of God and the

leration for converts,
lolics," she would say,
hich most Protestants
igion is new to them,
id, and it requires ex-
;h are as firmly rooted
e eager to make every
i opposed to that glo-
tances, as if, forsooth,
for preferring a little
irho, being enlightened,
'ten deplored the hold
1, and which more than
he regretted, too, that
i become Catholics, re-
iroke of Jesus Christ.*
3, for working the con-
ilroduced controversy,
rvanoes was such, that
convent. "The per-
'orite theme with her.
as often seen to pause
rhich she resumed her

9 her so scrupulously eiact

convent, writes : " I iiave
lagnB, at much exponso, for
Roman Catholic, whicli roll-
tlio oldest, of the varioM

LIFE or CATHERINE MCAULBY.

455

work. In general she did not spend more than the prescribed
time in prayer; and when she did, she rose before the rest, or pro-
longed her prayer while they slumbered, that no one might be in-
convenienced by her devotion, " H.aving fulfilled the prescribed
exercises," she would say, " our time belongs to our community and
the poor." During her life several valuable books were translated,
illuminations and other works of art completed, by her children,
though how they fcf;a<l time to accomplish any thing outside the
ordinary duties of the Institute was a marvel to themselves. By
seiz.ng on the spare moments of every day, a great deal may be
accomplished in a month. " Do all you can for God," she would
often say, " because time is short." She herself was never known
to waste a moment. The five or seven minutes her simple toilet
cost, was a pain to her. " What a pity to be obliged to take so
much trouble about a life that passes so rapidly," she would say.
"How pleasant it would be if we could invent some contrivance to
save our precious time by dressing only once a year. It seems as
if we have done no more than put on our clothes in the morm'ng,
when the night prayer-bell rings." . ^ , .

She laid such stress on spiritual reading, that she appointed an
hour's lecture to be made in common every day.* Her favorite
works, after the Holy Scripture, were the Spiritual Combat, the
Imitation of Christ, and the Lives of the Saints, especially those
most devoted to the sick and to the education of youth. She had
a iiigh opinior of Rodriguez's " Christian Perfection," but she con-
sidered the English translation coo diffuse. She herself wrote an
immense amount of spiritual matter, consisting of prayers to be
used on the visitation of the sick, instructions on the Rules, direc-
tions to be observed in the schools. House of Mercy, etc., but the
result of much of her labors in this way was accidentally burned.
Looking for some will or deed, she dropped her taper among her
papers, and before the conflagration could be extinguished, most of
them were destroyed. She was not in the least disturbed at this
great loss; probably she thought as the Abbe Orou did on a simi-

* Ilulf an hour in Uie morning, and llie same in the evening. At those leo-
turca oho allowed tlie Sisters to worlc, paint, or do any thing else that oocnpied
tlio flngora und loft tho mind rr»».

■

456

LIFE or CATHERINE MCAULET.

lar occasion, that if God had willed to draw His glory from the
works, be would have preserved thera*

She could never bear to see a Sister lose a moment of time. If
one came from a duty ouly a few minutes before office, she ex-
pected that these few minutes would be employed in something
nseful, as reading a page in the Testament or Imitation, etc. She
would often quote the saying of St. Paul to Timothy : " Apply
thyself to reading ;" and St. Jerome's advice to Euatochium :
" Let sleep surprise you with a book in your hand, and let the
Holy Scripture receive your reclining head." With her, spiritual
reading was " oil for the lamp of prayer," but she would prefer
any kind of good reading to idleness. To a postulant who excused
herself for loitering, bv saying it was only five minutes before some
exercise, she said : " Ah, my child, many a fervent prayer was
said in five minutes.'* . ?^«_5.'s: /^',........

The special devotions pointed oat in the Rule were her ^cial
devotions. Meditation on the Tax sion was her favorite exercise ;
from this she drew strength to bear her Cross with joy. Y/hon a
trial came, she would quietly say: "It is part of the Cross of
Christ, which we so often pray may be always about us." Her
life, from the cradle to the grave, may be reverently called her
" Way of the Cross." She made a regulation that meditation
uiiould be made on the Passion every day in Lent, and every Fri-
day through the year; also, that prayers should be said in honor of
the Five Wounds, at three o'clock every Friday, " for those ia
their agony, in mortal sin, and for the souls in purgatory." Her
heart, so tender to all, was not less tender towards her suffering
Spouse; and to meditate on the various circumstances of His do-
lorous Passion was a physical pain to her, as she once told a Sister
in confidence. " For us He suffered," she would say, and this, she
thought, was more vhan sufficient to move all to gratitude and
love. So great was her devotion to the Sacred Heart of our Lord,
th'* ihe scarcely ever used any prayer-book but that entitled
"Devotions to the Sacred Heart of Jesua."

* "Son grand ouvrngo,lo fruit deqiiivtorzuftnu6esnvttit6t«S bnllt! i PBris. U
■outieiit colto porto tivoo bonnooup do ouliiio, ot dit sirapleiaetit : ' 81 Dieu ovait
voulu tiror Bii gloiro do cet ouvrage, il rBuriiit ooiisorvi.' "— Alalia) tur Ji. !'•
Jtan Orou, S. J.

■j-EY.

LIFE OP CATHERINK M^AULKY.

457

His glory from the

loment of time. If
jfore office, she ex-
loyed in something
Imitation, etc. She
i Timothy : " Apply
ce to Enstochium :
r hand, and let the

With her, spiritual
it she would prefer
>stnlant livho excused
minutes before some

fervent prayer was

ule were her special
jr favorite exercise;
with joy. Y/hon a
art of the Cross of
ys about us." Her
reverently called her
tion that meditation
Lent, and every Fri-
Id bo said in honor of
piday, "for those ia
in purgatory." Her
owards ber suffering
imstanccs of His do-
she once told a Sister
luld say, and this, she
all to gratitude and
i Heart of our Lord,
3k but that entitled

irnit 6t<S bnlltS k Peris. II
ai>l8iD.ent: 'SlDieuovalt
irv(5.' "—MliM tur Ji- i'.

From her devotion to the Sacred Infancy sprang her love of
little children. If the majesty c' God inspires our admiration, His
littleness in the crib must awaken tenderest love. She felt, when
meditating on these endearing mysteries of the " Word made flesh,"
and beginning to " dwell amongst us," as did St. Bernard, when
glancing from the Son in the bosom of His Father, to the Son in
the crib ox Bethlehem, he exclaimed, " O, Jestis, how great thou
art, and how adorable I O, Jesus, how little thou art, and how
amiable !"

On every feast she was sure to note down the fruit the Church
wishes to be drawn from the commemoration of the saint or mys-
tery ; but she was never weary of extolling her who, next to Jesus,
is the most perfect model of every virtue. "All religious per-
sons," she would say, " ought to make known her virtuea and
power wherever they have influence ; but we, who are her own
chosen children, who bear hci- name, and that of her sweetest at-
tribute, Meboy, tve are specially bound to love and honor her."
She appointed the Rosary and OfiSce to be daily recited in honor
of Mary, and Novenas to be offered with much solemnity before
her feasts, especially the Feast of our Lady of Mercy.

She urged the Sisters to cultivate among the poor a great devo-
tion to the Mother of God — a devotion which, she said, would
lead them back to Him, even if they should have the misfortune to
wnnder for a time. Indeed, she was often touched with the great
devotion the poor evinced towards the Blessed Virgin Mary. The
Son and the Mother are never separated on their lips ; and in the
south and west of Ireland the poor peasant or laborer frequently
dies murmuring, in his expressive Gaelic, " O, Holy Motherl"

The saints to whom the Rule recommended the Sisters to bo
devout were those to whom she was most devoted, and among
them St. Joseph, the fostei^father of Jesus and spouse of Mary ;
St, John the Evangelist, the disciple whom Jesus loved, and the
first " Child of Mary ;" and St. Patrick, who had brought the faith
to her itative land, and changed it into an island of saints and
scholars, were her special favorites.

In choir, reverence and love were depicted on her countenance :
she cliantod the Office and recited the prayers in a tone which

IkfrJa

458

LIFE OV CATHEBINE MCAULKT.

showed that she felt what she uttered. At cererr,onies she 80me-
times became so absorbed that she forgot the exterior observances
prescribed. This at length became so fi-equeut that she was
obliged to request some of the Sisters to remind her of her duty
on such occasions. These monitors, who were sometimes oppres.
sively importuaate, she would playfully style her "mistresses."
Ceremony days were delightful to her. She rejoiced to see laborers
enter the vineyard at any hour. Often she would expatiate on the
sacrifices the Sisters bad made to enter religion, and her affection,
ate heart led her to lay particular stress on that entire separation
from those to whom they were bound by nature's dearest ties, and
whom they quitted, not because the/ loved Ihem leas, but because
they loved God more. She used to say tliat nothing but a spark
of the fire that Jesus came to cast on earth could enable nature to
make this sacrifice.

At the Renovation her fervor seemed to reach her greatest
height, and she renewed her vows in a tone of exultation the
hearers could not easily forget. "It is no wonder," she would
say, " that our voices are weak and timid when first we pronounce
our holy vov/s, for then we are only beginning to know the God
whom we are privileged to serve ; but at Renovation our tone
should evince joy and triumph, for then we know better what He
is to whom we have the honor to be espoused." When writing
about the time of renewal (the Feast of the Circumcision), she
would always say something on the subject, as, "May God grant
you, and us all, the full benefit of our Renovation, and grace to
perform our resolutions."

At recreation she would sometimes lay aside her sewing or
knitting, and gaze upon her children, while her countenance beamed
iritih intense delight, as she thought of the glory given to God by
iuelr labors and sacrifices. Their sorrows were her sorrows—
their joys her joys, ^''hen possible, she perir>lttcd them to under-
take long journeys, for the cousolutlou of their sick and dying
relatives. Thus she hastened the departure of the Birmingham
mission, that one of ilio Sisters who composed it might have the

comfort of tending her dying father ; and she took Sister G •

to England, to cousolo ucr parents, who had Just met with sovore

--H' ■^■^.f ■

iJtm^-

—--*!!»!*''

9eMMWkai«

lULKT.

t ceren^onies she some-
lie exterior observances
i-eqneut that she was
remind her of her duty
vere sometimes oppres.
yle her "mistresses."
rejoiced to see laborers
ffonld expatiate on the
;ion, and her afFection.

that entire separation
itnre's dearest ties, and
Ihemhaa, but because
at nothing but a spark

conld enable nature to

to reach her greatest
tone of exultation the
a wonder," she would
fhen first we pronounce
ining to know the God
; Renovation our tone
! know better what He
juscd." When writing
the Circnmcision), she
t, as, "May God grant
cnovation, aud grace to

y aside her sewing or
her countenance beamed
glory given to God by
s were her sorrows—
erir'lttcd them to under-
f their sick and dying
re of the Birmingham
posed it might have the

she took Sister G ■

lad Just met with sovore

LIFE OF CATHKRmS MCAULET.

afflictions. She placed such unbounded confidence in her children,
that she never would believe anything to their disadvantage. Wheu
informed that a Superioress had made arrangenv ts to found a
House without her consent, she wrote to her, sayiu^- , " I have been
told several times that you are going to Liverpool ; but I am sure
matters are not closed with you, or you would let me know." If
love begets love, it is no wonder that the Sisters loved' this loving,
confiding mother.

Prayer seemed to be the life of Catherine McAuley. If her
duties required her to be nearly always in action, every action of
hers was, as one of her sisters sweetly said,* "embalmed with
prayer." If they left her little time to kneel in clioir, they were
animated with that purity of intention which is in itself a perfect
prayer. She wished the sisters whether sighing for heaven, or
sinking under affliction, or thirsting for the salvation of souls, to
seek their strength and consolation in prayer. The happincsft of
pleasing God was the greatest reward she looked for. Heuce she
directed the sifters to say often : " O, most compassionate Lord
Jesus, grant me grace to be perfectly pleasing to thee, even for
one moment 1" She often told them to have real faith in the
divine promise, " Ask and you shall receive." The following pas-
sage contains so many of her ideas, though it is probable that she
never read a page of De Lamcnnais, that it may with propriety bo
inserted here :

" When you pray, do you not feel your heart lighter and your
soul more content ? Prayer renders affliction less painful, aud joy
more pure ; it gives to the one something ineflfably sweet, to the
other a celestial perfume.

" You arc a stranger seeking your country ; your country is
heaven, and when you look towards heaven, does no desure press
you, or is that desire mute ?

" You say God is too high to hear such poor, mean creatures
as we. And who, then, made those mean creatures ? Who but
God gave them feelings, and thought, and speech ? And if he has
been so good to them, was it that he might afterwards drive them

• M, M. Dl I'uMl Dolftiiy, one of " tUo flmt sevcin," In a privHte l«ttor.

■ if,

■■ ' n> i<< wi j yii Mp >jf< p v. t.> Bitf-

460

LIFE OF CATHERINE MCAULEY.

from him 7 Yerilj. I tell yon, that whoever says in his heart that
God despises his own creatnres, blasphemes God.

" Others say, Does not God know our wants better than we?
What good, then, is it to pray ? God knows our wants, and it is
for that reason be wishes ns to speak to him, for God himself is
our first want, and to pray to God is to begin to possess God.
The father knows the wants of his child ; is the child, therefore, to
address no word of petition or gratitude to his father ?

" When animals suffer, or fear, or are hungry, they ntter plain-
tire cries, which are the prayers they address to God, and God
hears them. Shall man be the only creature whose voice never
ascends to the ear of his Creator ?

" There sometimes passes over countries a scorching wind which
dries np plants and flowers ; but, moistened by the dew, they re-
cover their beauty and raise their languishing heads. Burning and
scorching winds are always passing crver the soul of man ; prayer
is the dew which refreshes it."

But our task draws to a close. Perfection was the bright goal
to which Lh i Foundress tended, and hence we find her possessed of
" such noble self-command, so crucified in the flesh, so meek, so
gentle, so tender-hearted, so merciful, so sweet, so prayerful, so
diligent, so forgetful of injuries,"* that we involuutarilly exclaLn :
" The finger of God is here."

That Mother McAuluy was a woman of eminent literary ability,
her letters mid ascetic writings remain to prove. The former ex-
hibit great versatility. She describes spirituality like a divine,
she sketches house-plans like an architect ; she gives the diagnosis
of disease in a manner that would not disgrace her distinguished
medical friends. Sir Philip Crampton and Sir Henry Marsh ; she
reads countenances like a professed physiognomist ; she describes
joy and sorrow with the imagery of a poet ; and though her ten-
der, humorous, racy epistles were, as the writing shows, dashed off
with extrao-rdinary speed, there is not in them a single line that
could disedify, and liardly a superfluous word. Evidently, had her
talents been thoroughly cultivated, had she been trained exclu-

♦ Dr. Nowman.

/LULEY.

ir says ia bis heart that

God.

wants better than we?
)ws our wants, and it is
him, for God himself is

begin to possess God.
I the child, therefore, to
his father ?

nngry, they utter plain-
Iress to God, and God
tore whose voice never

a scorching wind which
ed by the dew, they re-
ng heads. Borning and
he soul of man ; prayer

ion was the bright goal
we find her possessed of
I the flesh, so meek, so
sweet, so prayerful, so
5 involuutarilly exclaim :

' eminent literary ability,
prove. The former ex-
)irituality like a divine,
; she gives the diagnosis
sgrace her distinguished
Sir Henry Marsh ; she
ognomist ; she describes
et ; and though her ten-
writing shows, dashed off
them a single line that
3rd. Evidently, had her
she been trained excla-

LIPE OF CATHEBIKB VPAJTUSY.

461

givety to literary pursuits, no woman of her age, and few men,
could have attained greater eminence in the republic of letters.
Happily, she was zealons for better gifts, and if she were bom to
a throne, she had taken off her crown and laid aside her sceptre,
for the honor and happiness of serving Jesus Christ in His suffer-
ing members.

We have failed to portray Catherine McAuley aright, if the
reader do not discern in her, the spurit of tenderness for the affict-
ed, of compassion for the erring, of zeal for those who" need a physi-
cian, of anxiety to serve not merely the just but sinners — the Spkit
of Mercy which is pre-eminently the Spirit of Jesus. And may He,
whose mercy is above all His works, increase in His servants the
the spirit which animated the pure heart of the saintly Foundress ;
that spirit of love and compassion, which, far more than the most
persuasive words of humac 'oquence, keeps the just with Jesus,
and leads the sinner weeping vo His fpci ; that spirit which is a
surer test of His presence than the gift of miracles ; that spuit
which teaches us to weep with those who weep and rejoice with
those who rejoice, that by becoming all things to all, we may gain
all to Christ.

It was said of Mother McAuley, in her lifetime, that every one
who approached her carried away some of her contagions sweet-
ness, and felt a new degree of love for Him whose Spirit her whole
exterior so beautifully portrayed. Bisliops, priests, millionaires,
came into her presence without any distinct projects of charity,
and left it, after a few minutes' interview, to erect convents, hos-
pitals, and schools, and to increase their customary alms. May
God give this blessing to our work, that all who commune with
the Servant of God through these pages, may experience the «ame
blessed results.

MOTHER M. ELIZABETH MOORE'S ACCOUNT OP THE DEATH
OF THE fOUNDKESS.

" Of cur dear Reverend Mother, what shall I say, but that she
died the death of the just ? Cautions as she was of bringing her-
self into notice while in health, she was still more so in sickness,

~«;wi». <a« li >B i m il«p«jig «.» i i< I W»l » y t < »I WIWf-t'j ''> i 'li W.. - ■

LITE OF CATHEBIKB MOAULIT.

toaiting on herself even in her last agony, and prepervinp; to the
end the peace and serenity which so eminently distingai&hed her
through life. She omitted not an iota of what was essential but she
disregarded all else.

" I was not aware that her death was so near. I wait full of
hope till the day before she died. Had I then known what I
hare since heard, I should not hare been so unprepared for the
shock.

" For the last six months, she was well aware that she was
dying, but was perfectly silent on the sabject. About a month
ago, she arranged all her papers, and said to Sister Teresa Carton,
' Nov, they are ready.' About four on Thursday mornings she
desired her bed to be removed to the centre of the room, saying
that she would soon want air. About seven, she desired the
Sisters to be brought to her, and said to each individually what
was best suited ; but her first and last injunction to all was to pre-
serve peace and onion ; and, if they did, she promised them in re-
turn a happiness that would be ever a new surprise to them. She
told Sister M. Genevieve that she felt exceedingly happy, as if to
encourage her to die. To little Sister Camillas, her god-child, she
said, ' Kiss me, my heart, and then go away ;' thus she sought to
prevent her from weeping. The Holy Sacrifice was offered in her
ro^'m about half-past eight. She said it would be a comfort to her
to see the white cloaks on the Sisters once more, for she had been
anointed on Monday without the usual ceremony — more to hasten
her recovery than because we thought her in danger. I think her
agony commenced about eleven. She spoke very little. Dean
Qaffney, her brother, Dr. McAuley, Dean Mcyler, Eev. Messrs.
O'Carroll, O'Hanlon, and Walsh, visited her during the day. To
the physician she said, ' Well, doctor, the scene is drawing to a
close.'

" About five in the evening, she asked to have the blei?8f,d caudle
in her hand. We then commenced the last prayers. I repeated
one or two she herself had taught -ine, and she said, with energy,
* may God bless you.' When we thought licr senses were failing,
and that it might be well to rouse her attention by praying a little
louder, she said, ' No occasion to speak so loud, my darling ; I

''■'^•iMMniw*'*"^

LEY.

id preferring to the

y distinguished her

ras essential but she

near. I wm full of
hen known what I
unprepared for the

LITE OF CATHEBINE MCAULET.

463

iware that she was
;. About a month
ister Teresa Carton,
irsday mornings she
of the room, sajing
n, she desired the
h individually what
>n to all was to pre-
romised them in re-
irise to them. She
igly happy, as if to
I, her god-child, she
thus she sought to
5 was offered in her
be a comfort to her
9, for she had been
ly — more to hasten
inger. I think her
very little. Dean
eyier, Rev. Messrs.
aring the day. To
e is drawing to a

( the blcL'Sf.d caudle
ayers. I repeated
said, with energy,
enscs were failing,
by praying a little
ad, my darling ; I

hear distinctly. At a few minutes to eight she calmly breathed

her last. I did not think it was possible for human nature to have

such self-possession at the awibi moment of death.

"Coimin' or Merct, St. Cathekink's, BAoaoT-sTBxrr,

" 2fdvmbtr li, lUV . Ji.tv ; ; ■*

PRATER FOR THE ORDER OP MERCT.

God 1 who, under the protection of the glorious Mother of
Thy Son, wast pleased that the Order of Mercy should be in-
stituted in Thy Church, for the relief of the sufft ring and the in-
struction of the ignorant ; vouchsafe so to strengthen and enlighten
those to whom Thou hast granted this holy vocation, that they
may faithfully and efficaciously dispense Thy mercies on earth, and
thereby come to the enjoyment of Thy divine presence in heaven,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

The following simple, touching account of the Foundress is from
the pen of a spiritual daughter,* who has lately gone to join the
" Community in heaven :" '

" The conventual life of Catherine McAuley was brief indeed,
but replete with good works, meekly, silently, and lovingly done.
She was ever ready to undertake whatever was pointed out to her by
legitimate authority to be the holy will of God. She kept her eye
steadily fixed on that blessed will, with un^tbrinking faith, certain
that by its guidance her little bark and all it contained would be
safely led through rocks, and breakers, and s'orms. Sometimes,
like St. Peter, when the waves were very high, her poor heart
feared, and then, like him, she called on our deaiest Lord, who never
failed to con^e to her assistance and rescu.^ her from the impending
danger.

" Her humility was equal to her filial confid a^-e and child-like
simplicity. Never could she bear to receive a word <^f praise, or
to hear the merit of the good works she performed ascribed to

• Mother Mary V. Hartnett, Bogoommon.

«1W

464

LIFE OF CATHEBINB MOAULET.

her ; and so mnch did she dread the danger of egotism, that she
would not speak even in her own dispraise. When people, sur-
prised at what they saw, sometimes commended her, she would
gently turn the conversation, or playfully reply that ' every thing
went on of itself, like a piece of machinery.'

" Among her great Turtnes, perfect detachment and love of holy
poverty shone conspicuously ; but, above all, her charity was
transcendant. The pure love of God was her one motive, and for
His dear sake, she loved her neighbor, His image. She was never
weary of dilating on the description of charity given by the Apos-
tle, and, with almost inspired eloquence, inculcating it on her spir-
itual family. For several years she had no other rule by which to
guide her rapidly-increasing community, but the single chapter on
Union and Charity ; and so great a blessing did God give her les-
sons, and so deep and lasting an effect did they produce, that she
used to say the Sisters' only boast was, that there never had been
a breach of charity committed among them. Almighty God raised
the supernatural edifice of her perfection on the gifts of nature
with which He had previously endowed her. He gave her great
benevolence and kindliness of disposition, which made her feelingly
alive to the wants of her fellow-creatures, and ever solicitous to re-
lieve them. Her sweetness of disposition endeared her to all who
knew her, while her great uprightness and high moral character
made her respected no less than loved. Her Heavenly Father
chastened her with many trials, both before and after calling her
to establish the Order of Mercy. Her whole life was chequered
with afflictions. Some came in the ordinary course of things ;
others, and the most painful ones, came through the instrumentality
of good and saintly persons ; but never did a word of murmur es-
cape her lips, which were always sealed with conformity to the
adorable will of God."

* Since the abo^e was written, we learned that .a pamphlet sketch of the Foun-
dress has been published by a Jesuit 'n Dublin, of whose name we have not been
informed. We have not yet seen the sketch, but if it contain anything new, we
shall, with the permission of the Rev. author, avail ourselves of it in our next
edition.

JLET.

of egotism, that she

When people, su^

mded her, she would

iply that ' every thing

nent and love of holy
all, her charity was
er one motive, and for
nage. She was never
ty given by the Apos-
nlcating it on her spir-
)ther rule by vi'hich to
the single chapter on
did God give her les-
they produce, that she
, there never had been
Ahnighty God raised
jn the gifts of nature
'. He gave her great
hich made her feelingly
nd ever solicitous to re-
mdeared her to all who
[ high moral character
Her Heavenly Father
3 and after calling her
hole life was chequered
nary course of things ;
jugh the instrumentality
I a word of murmnr es-
with conformity to the

amphlet sketch of tbe Foun-
bote name we have not been
,f it contain anything new, we
I ourselvea of it in ovir next

CHAPTER XL! V.

Baggot-street Conyent— St. Paul's Hospital, Jerris-street— The Mater Misori
cordial — The Female Reformatory.

TUE following extract, from a work* recently published by an
English lady, will be read witk interest by many :

" The Convent in Bnggot-street is an extensive building with a
very plain exterior. Within, much pains have been spent on dec-
orations of a strictly conventual character. The cloisters and
Convent Chapel are beautiful ; there are immense poor-schools in
tbe rear of the building, a large House of Mercy, and an institu.
tion for training teachers. The three main objects for which Miss
McAuley designed her Order, were, the care of poor schools, the
visitation of the sick-poor, and the charge of a House of Mercy ;
and to these three works the Sisters are bound by rule to attend,
as far as may be practicable.

The House of Mercy is meant as a temporary refuge for re-
spectable girls and women out of employment. It is chiefly filled
by servants out of place, and has often proved a most valuable
place of refuge for those in danger. The inmates are taught to
labor for their own support, either at needle or laundry work, and
the Sisters endeavor to procure them situations. It is not intended
that they should remain any length of time in the House, but only
till they can find employment. In addition to these three works
of charity, the Sisters may undertake any others, eithar under
their own roof or in branch houses. The Sisters of Mercy in
Dublin being the largest and most important establishment of the
Order, have five branch houses, the three principal of which I
visited, and will now speak of.

* The W9rk U entitloa, •• Irish Homes and Irish Hearts.''

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466

LIFE OP CATHERINE MOAtTLBT.

" The Charitable Infirmart, Jervis-street, is one of the oldest
hospitnls ill Dublin. It was founded in 1728, by a small band of

mediciil men In 1792, a chapter was granted by

Goveniiuent, and the managers were incorporated as the ' Guard-
ians and Governors of the Charitable Infirmary, Jervis-street.'
Upon the present Board there are no medical men. The building
has a plain brick exterior. It contains a reception-room, board-
room, lecture-room, and six wards, capable of containing seventy
patients. Tiiis hospital was formei ly served by the usual class of
, hospital nurses, under charge of a matron. The medical men were
by no means satisfied witli their mode of service. The patients
were neglected, llie hospital >va8 extremely dirty, and it was re-
solved that the Sisters of Mercy should be asked to undertake the
nursing ; and the request was made and granted. A certain
number of Sisters were sent from the Convent in Baggot-strect, a
few small and inconvenient rooms, but well separated from the rest
uf 'the hospital, were allotted them, and the Sisters began their
work. In a very short time cleanliness and order reigned through-
out the place — the patients were made comfortable, and the doc-
tors found that their orders were carried out. Stimulants now
went down the patients' throats, instead uf those of their nurses,
and all that careful nursing could do to alleviate suffering was
performed. The Sisters are able to do much for the souls of their
patients, taking care to instruct the ignorant — to teach al<. to suf-
fer patiently, and to turn their thoughts to the God they forgot in
their time of health. More than once a wedding has taken place
in the little chapel, between those whom sickness hdd led to repent
of thc! past, and desire to lead a Christian life for the future.

" The second branch of the Sisters of Mercy is at the Mater
Misi!:ricordi.,k Hospital, the chief Catholic Hospital in Dublin, and
one which bids fair to become equal in importance to any in Eu-
rope. The idea of its creation originated with the Sisters of
Mercy, who, not content with being ready to devote their labor,
contributed ten thousand pounds towards its expenses. In Dr.
Bristowe's ' Report to Government on the Hospitals of the United
Kingdom,' the following occurs :

'"The Mator Misericordias Hospital, founded in 1861 by the

■.•T7i:5

ne of the oldest

a small band of

was granted by

as the ' Guard-

Jervis-street.'

The building

tion-room, board-

utainiug seventy

le usual class of

nedicttl men were

e. The patients

and it was re-

to undertake the

ated. A certain

Bttggot-strect, a

atcd from the rest

iters began their

: reigned through-

ible, and the doc-

Stimalunts now

se of their nnrseSi

ate saffering was

the souls of their

teach all to suf-

(od they forgot in

f has taken place

hr.d led to repent

r the future.

f is at the Mater

tal in Dublin, and

ice to any in Eu-

h the Sisters of

iTote their labor,

ixpenscs. In Dr.

tals of the United

i in 1861 by the

LIFE Of CATHERINE MOAULBT.

' ■ u m> '

467

Sisters of Mercy, end as yet Incomplete, lies to the north of Dub-
lin, on the confines of the town ; it occupies an elevated site, and
is surrounded by large open spaces. On the score of salubrity the
site seems wholly unobjectionable. The hospital when complete
will form a quadrangular building, and will hold, we believe, about
five hundred beds. At present, the antcricir portion only is in
existence. This U a handsome, symmetrical, three-fioored build-
ing, presenting on each floor a corridor at the back, extending from
end to end, with wards and other rooms opening out of in front,
and with stair-case, operating-rooms and ofiices, (forming a com-
pact block,) extending irom its central part backwards. The hos-
pital is kept scrupulously clean, and its ventilation, and, indeed, all
its internal arrangements are admirable. Patients are admitted
without any recommendation other than the fitness of the c^se for
admission.

" ' This hospital promises to be, when complete, one of the finest
in Europe. It is built on the corridor plan ; but the distribution
of corridors and wards and beds, is such as entirely to neutralize
any 'll-eflects that could possibly flow from the adoption of this
plan, while all the advantages that spacious, cheerful, well-ventila-
ted corridors afford are thoroughly secured.'

"During the year 1866, eleven hundred patients passed
through the wards of this hospital, and three thousand four
hundred and ninety-one were treated as out-patients. In the au-
tumn of that same year, Dublin was visited by the terrible scourge
of cholera. The hospital instantly opened its doors to the victims,
a certain number of wards were set apart for them, and two hun-
dred and six patients were received and well-cared for. At all
hours of the day and night the Sisters and the medical men were
ready to take them in, and the tenderest and most vigilant care
wos bestowed on them. It fell to the task of one Sister to com-
pose the limbs and shroud the bodies of more than one hundred
victims of this terrible disease.

" In common with the other hospitals, of which I have been
writing, immense spiritual good is wrought within these walls.
Kind and gentle words make a great impression on the careless ;
the example of self-devotion they see before their eyes tends to

mm^

i-iff«arriiiniiiiii

468

LIFE OF CATHEBINB UOAULET.

strengthen it. If they mnrmnr under their poverty and sickness,
they see those born to comfort and luxury giving up all — impri?
oning themselves within hospital walls — to wait on them ; and ad-
vice from such a quarter is more appreciated. No distinction of
craed is made in this hospital. Protebtants &:? as tenderly cot-^d
for as the rest, and freely allowed any ministration of their
religion.

"'Whether the postnlaut be Catholic or Protestant, Moham-
medan or Jew, he is GodV work, made in His image ; and the
gate freely opens to him, without a question as to his religious
faith. He is not asked to violate his conscience that he may re-
ceive relief. He is not required to purchase his life at the price of
his apostacy. The name of charity is not desecrated by associa-
tion with sectarian intolerance. It is not made a bait to corrnpt,
or a sword to persecute, wretches broken down by disease to inca-
pacity of resistance, and powerless tn help themselves.' — Speech of
Right Honorable Judge CHagan.

"This is a pleasing contrast to another hospital which, though
standing in a Catholic country hke Ireland, denies admission to any
priest within its walls, even to visit the dying, and has more than
once turned out a patient in his last extremity because he would
not consent to die witht^ut the consolations of his faith. In a city
where such fearful bigotry can exist, an hospital like the Mater
Misericordiffi is doubly needed. The hospital has no grant from
the State or permanent income from any other source ....
During the past year a sura of £3,818 was voluntarily bestowed,
and every shilling received has gone directly to the relief of the
patients. The Sisters of Mercy are no charge whatever on the
Mater Misericordiee Hospital — being supported out of the funds
of their own community.

" The Mater Misoricordiae has been founded upon the medioevol
system. It is the property of a religious o-'der, which alone is re-
sponsible for its management, and to whom alms for its support
are committed. In modern times hospitals have fallen under the
management of ' committees ' and ' boards of directors ' or ' gov-
ernors.' The Sisters of Mercy, feeling the n.ut,'nitudo and import-
ance of their undertaking, and considering the large som of public

uas

asf'^

■e^

LIFE OP CATHERINE MCAULET.

469

rty and Bickness,

up all — impii."

Ill them ; and ad-

distiuction of
as tenderly co''€d
stration of their

otestant, Molmm-
image ; and the
s to bis religious
I that he may re-
ife at the price of
crated bj associa-
a bait to corrupt,
by disease to inca-
selves.' — Sjpeech of

ital which, though
es admission to any
md has more than
r because he would
is faith. In a city
;al like the Mater
las no grant from
source ....
luntarily bestowed,
;o the relief of the
I whatever on the
out of the fundfl

upon the raediceval
, which alone is re-
ms for its support
e fallen under the
lirectors' or 'gov-
,'nitudo and import-
large sam of public

money committed to their keeping, have resolved to amalgamate
the two systems. They have, therefore, called to their aid a com-
mittee, or ' council,' of the leading gentlemen of Dublin, to whom
the accounts of the hospital are tlirown open, and whose advice
and cooperation are gratefully received. It is from their first An-
nual Report that the above quotations are taken, and the Council
further adds :

•"' '"Annexed to this report is a statement of the receipts and ex-
penditures for the past twelve months. We cannot conclude with-
out expressing our admiration of the good order and cleanliness
of the hospital. The admirable manner in which it is kept, and
the clear and accurate system of accounts have given us the great-
est satisfaction, and reflect the highest credit on the Sisters of
Mercy.'

" When we reflect that so lorge a portion of the funds was con-
tributed by the Sisters of Mercy themselves, and that the expenses
even of their own support are not charged upon the funds, «re
must confess ♦hat this challenge of public inspection and criti-
cism is the very opposite of that narrowness of spirit with which
Religious are often, and unjustly, accused. Speaking of this hos-
pital. Judge O'Hagau adds :

" ' The contribution of the Sisters of Mercy was very great in-
deed. And this they offered that they might open for themselves
a new field of labor — made terril'ie by mephitic vapors and the
groans of tortured men — and bringing them into fearful contpct
with pestilence and death. And, since the hospital was estab-
lished, they have been its only nurses. They have ministered,
with their own hands, to its suffering inmates — repelled by no
form of disease, however loathsome, and declining no office,
however mean, so that they mitigate a pang, or ppeed a soul
more peacefully to heaven 1 And all this they have done gra-
tuitously, not merely receiving no stipend for their service, but
maintaining themselves from their own resources, and not taxing
even for their food, the funds of the hospital in which they toil
unceasingly, to the extent of a single farthing. Surely, this in
admirftble, and not less admirable, too, the rule by which they opea
their doors, at all times and under all circumstances, to every ha-

]jgiTr|mm i ;

470

LIFE OP CATHBBINB MOAULEY.

man being who needs their Iielp, withont let or hindrance. Suffer-
ing is the sole condition of its own relief. It requires no passport
from wealth or rank. It is subjected to no cold and jealous scru-
tiny. There is no fear that a human being will perish at the door,
while those within deliberate on the propriety of his admission.'

"The Cardinal Archbishop, speaking of the Mater Miseri-
cordiae, said : ' I recollect that when it was proposed to com-
mence this hospital there was a difference of opinion about the
merits of the plan, according to which it is now partially erected.
Some said that the proposed building would be too expensive, that
it would be too grand for the poor, and that it would be better to
erect an humble and less ornamental structnre which would be
more in harmony with the miserable normal condition of our poor.
Having been consulted on the question, I declared in favor of the
present plan. We have palaces for guilt, we have palaces for
force — we have palaces for legalized want, in which what is called
pauperism is dealt with according to the principles of an unfeeling
political economy. Why, then, should we not have at least one
palace for the poor, in which poverty would be relieved in a true
spirit of charity, and according to the dictates of the Qospel?
Such palaces are met with under the name of Alberghi, or Aspizi
de Poveri, in Naples and Genoa, Rome and Paris. Why should
not Dublin show its respect for true poverty by imitating the good
example given by other cities? The Sisters of Mercy, acting
according to the spirit of their Institute, determined to adopt the
plan best calculated to elevate and ennoble poverty, and they
have been most successful in erecting an ho.<3pital which does credit
to their good taste, and is a great ornament to the city.'

" In the conception and progress of this great work there pre-
sided a guiding spirit — one of those rare characters from whom
great actions may be expected — and it is her principle, which was
here strenuously carried out, that those who labor for God's glory
should strain every nerve to make their work equal, if it cannot
excel, the deeds of those who toil for an earthly reward.

" The third branch house of the Sisters of Mercy in Dublin is
connected with one of the most important institution': in Ireland —

LIFE OP CATHERINE MOAULBT.

471

ndrance. Snffer-

aires no passport
and jealous scru-

I'ish at the door,
of bis admission.'
Mater Miseri-

roposed to com-
ipinion about the

partially erected.
>o expensive, that
rould be better to

which would be
ition of our poor,
■ed in favor of the

have palaces for
lieh what is called
es of an unfeeling
have at least one
relieved in a true
BS of the Gospel?
Alherghi, or Asfizi
aris. Why should
imitating the good
of Mercy, acting
lined to adopt the
poverty, and they
I which does credit
the city.'

it work there pre-
racters from whom
rinciple, which was
aor for God's glory
equal, if it cannot
r reward.

Mercy in Dublin is
ationo iu Ireland—

the Prison Refuge, at Golden Bridge. It was in Ireland that
the problem how to reform our female criminals was first solved,
and it is mainly owing to the Sisters of Mercy that the solution
was accomplished. The reformation of a female prisoner has long
been acknowledged to be a harder task than that of a male— indeed,
many have deemed it impossible. She has sinned more against the
instincts of her better nature ; the consequences of her crime have
had a more hardening effect upon her, but above all, the absence
of hojie has a fatal eflfect on her character. And thi,^ despair is
really not much to be wondered at. If a poor woman endure her
sentence patiently, and keep the prison rules, she goes out at the
end of her imprisonment with very little prospect for the future,
save that of fresh dishonesty.

" What is to become of her ? She has no character. Who will
employ a discharged prisoner ? For men there are a dozen modes
of hard, rough, out-door employment, but take from a woman do-
mestic service, charing, and laundry-work, and nothing is left her
but wretched needlework, at which even resjj«ctable women can
hardly earn their bread. It must seem almost like a mockery to
sptak to a poor prisoner of the mercy of God, when the mercy of
her fellow-creatures is so sternly withheld. For many years the
Sisters of Mercy have been permitted to visit the prisoners at
Mountjoy Prison, the principal and strongest prison in Ireland.

" Here the Sisters exercise a most beneficial inCuence over the
miserable inmates. They instruct them in classes, and it is a rule
that no prison ofiBcial shall be present. Yet the class often con-
sists of wild, desperate women, with great physical strength, and
easily roused passions ..... Among such as these the
Sisters move fearlessly, and never have had to suffer. Even the
vild din of tongues issuing from those kept all day, and many a
day, in enforced silence, is hushed by the uplifted finger or the
gentle tones of a Sister of Mercy. Great good was, therefore,
to bo expected from placing these women for the concluding part
of their sentence in a refuge under the sole care of these Sisters.
Tiie proposition was made to the Superioress in April, 1856, an4
in a few days she was ready to begin the work

-r^iCTir M B Wf ■

— '•^a

MiJNMMWinM*dMMMiHi

CIHiMMiiiiit i 'M. ii i ii wm

4*72

LIFE OP CATHERINE MOAULET.

" The Refuge is intended strictly as a ■ 'jward for good condact,
and the ktrpe of getting there is the star that rises on the dark
night of tlie prisoners' despair and reclclessness, and lead? thcra
on to exertion. The Sisters, in their visits to the prison, are able
to learn the character of the women, and this is an immense help
to them in the management of the Refage."

for good coDdact,
rises on the dark

and lead? them
16 prison, are able

an immense help

APPENDIX.

LETTERS.

SUCH letters of the Fonndr^'s as would appear irrelevant in
the Life, we insert here. Although they may not have a gen-
eral interest, they will be 'ouu wiiu Jvll^ht by Sisters of Mercy,
and indeed by all Religious. Except one to Dr. Fitzgerald, they
are all addressed to her own spiritual children :

St. Mart's, Baqoot-stbbot, Angnst, 1837.

I am glad to have an opportunity of forwarding a few lines to you.
Tliank Qod you are so well and happy, and doing so much for the aflUct*
ed poor. Blesfied and happy life, which makes death so sweet 1 Our dear
Catherine* might have sung in the last hours of her innocent life, " Oh,
death, where is thy sting?" for sho did not seem to feol any. I have suf-
fered more than usual from my old pain of sorrow and anxiety. Poor
Sibter Maria has been very ill. I fear she cannot remain. Her delicacy
increases daily. I pity hi,r very much, she is so desirous to persevere,
and so gentle and complying. Sister M. Clare's eldest sister has joined

us. Miss F , from Meath, comes to-morrow, which will make ten

postulants, including Eliaa and Bridget, lay Sisters. This is all the news
I have Ic.- you, my own dearly beloved child. The Rule is ready, but we
wait, hoping to get his Orace to afllx his Approbation.

God blesa and preserve you all. Give my most a^ctionate love to
each dear Sister.

I cannot express the gratitude I feel to the truly good, kind priests
who have shown you all sucu kindness and attention. Bister M. Jose-
phine has given mo great comfort. I rejoice to find Sisters Cecilia and

■ Uarnleo*, SlatfrM. Agnet HoAaltjr.

2(t*

IfMlMMMMMAlMllMi

474

APPENDIX.

Teresa bo happy, also Sisters Anna and Catherine, and my dear old child
Josepldne, 'whose ntTie linet I received. Enclosed is a note firom Sister
M. Josephine Warde, which will gratify you aa it did me. I hear great
accounts of her prudence, and nice, regular example. I saw all that ia
amiable in her character. __

Qod bless you, my dear child.

III. . . .
St. Marie's, Cobk, October 12, 18S7.

I haye just heard, with deep concern, that Right Rev. Dr. Nolan has
fever. The mann- 1 in which it is reported gives me some hope that it
ma/ be a mistake. It ia said he took it from his curate, and the priest
who told me dlJ :<.ot know how long the curate was dead.

Sister L , at Tnllamore, in fever. One of the last Sisters we got has

been, and still is, very ili. Father O'Hanlon gave a gratifying account
of your healthful appearance and happiness ; also of the new convent,
which is admired by all who see it.

I was very glad you got the Rule, with the Approbation ; but if this
melancholy report is true, your ceremony will be delayed a little. I trust
that is all.

All here unite in affectionate love to you and the dear Sisters. Write
me a few lines si soon as yon can, and believe me ever your attached.

St. Mabt's, Dcblin, November S2, 1887.

I was greatly comforted with your letter. Please Qod, Sister M. Ur-
sula will soon be quite restored. I am delighted you all got the venera-
ble Archbishop's blessing. When I went to Kingstown, I found Sister
M. Elizabeth heavy, and far from well. I remained three days, and
made her stay in bed. She is recovered, thank Qod. All well here. We
go to Westland Row (Church) to Mliss every morning, which gives us a
good appetite for our breakfast. My dear Sister M. Josephine is happy
in her new state, and the novices quite at home in the coif, etc., etc

Rememlier me with respect and affection to my dear friend Dr. Fitz.
gerald, who has taken such a kind, feeling part in our troubles. Tell
him all will end well. Remember me most gratefully to the other good
clergymen from whom we experienced such attention and kindness. To
Father Maher you could not omit to offer my gprateful, respectful remem
branco, Qod has given you all a good Father in him. May Qod bless
and animate you all with His own Spirit, that you may prove it is Jesos
Christ you love and serve vrith your whole hearts.

P. S. — It will give you pleasure to hear that James and Robert have
been to see me. Both go on remarkably wtll, living together, and study*
ing for the bar with real attention. Robert's pay increased.

APPENDIX.

475

I my dear old child

a note firom Siatei

me. I hear great

I saw all that ia

c, Ootobef 12, 1887.
Bev. Dr. Nolan has

some hope that it
irate, and the priest
lead.
St Sisters we got has

gratifying account
jf the new convent,

obation ; but if this
yed a little. I trust

iear Sisters. Write
er your attached.

November 22, 1887.
e God, Sister M. Ur-
u all got the venera-
itown, I found Sister
ued three days, and
All well here. We
»g, which gives ns a
Josephine is happy
he coif, etc., etc
dear friend Dr. Fitz.
I our troubles. Tell
illy to the other good
in and kindness. To
Ful, respectful remem
him. May God bless
may prove it is Jesus

mes and Robert have
» together, and study-
acreaiied.

•' ■ ^ -i . ? s.* T .-. St. Patrick's, KiNQSTOwif, January, 1838.

Tliough I find it difficult to write without the assistance of my second
hand, yet I am going to depart from my rigid rule of not writing mora
than six lines, or what is barely necessary. 1 will tell you all I can col-
lect, but first, must heartily congratulate you on the arrival of Miss Ma.
her, to whom I beg you to offer my affectionate regards. If Miss Coflfey
has come, remember mo to her, and tell her we all pray that she may
get good health and the grace of perseverance. The account of Sist«r
M. Ursula is consoling indeed. She will not feel the winter passing in
C'arlow, the air is BO mild and clear. I am sure she will bo a grateful
child for all your affectionate care and solicitude, and make herself, like
Missie Rice,* "generally useful." Then she will be quite prepared for
Bootcrstown. I ain comforted to hear of all the fatherly affection you
meet. The beautj of your convent has become a town talk. Father
Carroll is proclaimiiij- it as the handsomest in Ireland.

Remember me, witl great respect and esteem, to all our good pastors
and friends. I Vc/pe to have a strong party of exquisite singers for the
blessing of the chapel. Tell Father Dan his teacher will expect to find
him well prepared after diligent practice.
P. B.—AU private.

As if you and I, like old Darby and Joan, were sitting together at the
community-table. The day after I arrived hero I broke my arm. The
inflammation was so great tliat nothing could be done but apply leeches.
After two days. Surgeon White boimd me up in boards. A broken arm
is by no means so distressing a matter as I always supposed— the want
of its use is the chief inconvenience. However, take grtsai rre of your
bones, and, if you go through the new convent before stairs aio put up,
be extremely cautious.

No arrangement has yet been made as to chaplain. Poor Sister M. di
Pazzi is after getting one of your old Mother's best and strongest lectures
and reasoning. She is perfectly happy. 1 know you will be particu-
larly kind to Miss Doyle's aunt, who goes as housekeeper to the college.
You have a high name in that quarter.

Sister M. Magdalen gave a few lectures, while I was absent, on the
duty of a Superioress, and on being away from the convent. She haa
reason to think I heard it, and is as meek as a lamb.

May God bless and preserve you all, is the constant prayer of your ever
fond Mother.

•MlssleRlce was a doUcate orphan child Mother MoAulcy took In some time before. This
little lady used sometimes grow tired of Baggot-street, and ask for a " change of air," •* U
I oonld go to Cork or Carlow," said she, " I'd make myself generally useful."

"""'vvfmv*

476

APPENDIX.

Convent, Baoqot-btrest, December, 1887.

A very pleasing young person, of plain education, railed here yester-
day, to say she wished to join the Carlow Sisters. Rev. Mr. McSwiney
atfvised her to call here, and inquire of me if three hundred pounds
would be accepted. Her name is Kelly. She has a brother at the col-
lege. They live five miles from Carlow. I like her greatly — very nice-
looking and sweet countenance. When I say plain education, I do not
mean any thing objectionable. I referred her to Dr. Fitzgerald, and rec-
ommended Mrs. Warde in the highest terms. I hope she will not dis^^ce
my judgment.

Write soon. Sister M. Teresa has delighted me telling of the instruc-
tions you give. Shme them forth in your aetiona at much as you can, my
dear child, and your houfie wUl outdo us. May God grant you all the
gifts reserved for this holy season.

I have been walking three hours in the snow, so I am growing young
again. Eight Sisters in retreat, and so much to be done, I am obliged to
assist. Seven to be received, and Sister A. Scott to be professed on
Wednesday.

vm.

Dublin, Eve of the Annunciation, 1888.
I am sure the Sisters are all very anxious to hear of our dear Sister
Aloysia. Thank God, the feverish symptoms have passed away, though
she continued ill and heavy all day Thursday. She was up a little yes-
terday, and now comphuas only of weakness. She did not sleep till after
four this morning, and still seems to be apprehensive ; but, please God,
there is no fear. I trust my poor Sister M. Cecilia has been pretty well,
taking great care to avoid cold and hunger, as desired. The weather
here is fine, but frosty. I suppose it is milder with you. I trust the
ceremony will go off well. We nil pray for dear Sister Maher. I have
charged the travellers* to bring me a full accoimt, and hope to hear all
on Tuesday. Very Eev. Dr. Ennis was here yesterday, about our going
to Booterstown. There is a good room, in which the caretaker's family
lived all the winter. I intend to put Sisters Cecilia and Ursula in that ;
indeed, every part of it is perfectly dry, it has been so long building.
Sister M. Teresa desires a thousand loves to you all. She is doing much
for the poor, thank God. I expect to find Sister Ursula greatly improved,

from what I see of the effects of Carlow. Sister Teresa W never

tires speaking of the instruction and advantages she received there. She
is uneasy about her young brother, who writes very dissatisfied, etc
She hopes you will advise him. His family are in Dublin. It would be

••■BeP?""

APPENDIX.

477

December, 1887.
oiled here yester-
ev. Mr. McSwiney

hundred ponnda
brother at the col-
greatly— very nice-
education, I do not
Fitzgerald, and rec-
le will not disgrace

ling of the instruc-
luch a» you can, my
i grant you all the

am growing young
ane, I am obliged to
to be professed on

Annunciation, 1888.
ir of our dear Sister
passed away, though
D was up a little yes-
lid not sleep till after
ive ; but, please God,
has been pretty well,
esired. The weather
itJi you. I trust the
lister Maher. I have

and hope to hear all
day, about our going
he caretaker's family
i and Ursula in that ;
len BO long building.
I. She is doing much
rala greatly improved,

Teresa W never

received there. She
very dissatisfied, ete.

Dublin. It would be

a reception.

better for him to write to his eldest sister. Poor Teresa cannot do much
for him, now that she cannot see him.

The passengers on the stage-coaches are bringing descriptions of the
new convent. I hear of it constantly. God bless and preserve you and
all with you, my very daap old child. Sister M. Cecilia will bring our
Register and print for you during three days. She would have done
your Register long since ; but, knowing there wst". one who could do it
more fancifully, she was quite anxious lo get it done so. That one* has
more of her own ways yet than of ours, and it is not easy to fix her to a
point. She finds the duties sufficient to fill up all her time, and, as her
constitution is strong, she is much employed in out-door work.

Bootcrstown finished. There is a good garden for the weak ones. I
will find it difficult to ;»dd this to the present charge. When quite over-
whelmed, I reanimate myself with the words of the dear, saintly Dr.
Nolan: " It is my lot."

Charity sermon for our poor — bad. Bazaar — unpromising.

All unite in love with your ever fondly attached Mother in Christ.

IX.

Bt. Mart's Convemt, Baooot-btbeet, April 9, 1888-
I feel very grateful, indeed, for Father Maher's kindness in writing to
me, but afflicted to find such powerful remedies necessary for you. Our
dear Sister Teresa is much better. Sister Cecilia very delicate ; but wo
must live and die between Baggot-street, -Booterstowu, and poor Kings-
town. No Sister can go to Carlow who is not to remain. They all get too
fond of it. We are likely to have the long-desired public laundry built
this season. Through the providence of God and the kindness of Father
O'Hanlon, we have got a legacy nearly equal to the expense. What a
comfort, if I am permitted to see some secure way of supporting our
poor women and children established ! not to bo depending on daily ex-
ertions so difficult to keep up. I look forward wli^h joy to the time wheu
1 hope to see you again. 1 "uembcr me respectfully to the clergymen I
have the pleasure to know, t id aSuctionately to the Sisters. Let me
soon have a letter from your dear self. Father Carroll was burprised to
hear you were ill ; he thought you looked so well. Sister Elizabeth was
delighted with the new convent. She says it is quite irresistible— a reg-
ular trap. It is gratifying to hear you are to have the comfort of it so soon.

CoNVBNT or Merot, Dcblin, May 15, 1838.
We have been looking for franks, but I could not wait any longer. We
had some days of real summer, which had a most beneficial effect on our

* A young lady who had entered a few moiittas previous. She pbliited exqultltely, bat
wu M ticv that tbo Foundrees often coniplaloed of her.

478

APPENDIX,

Invalids. Sharp cold ycsterdaj, and sleet this mornmg — und thej have
felt the change already. I expect to hear, please God, that you Iiave im-
proved very much. I did hope to have our weak ones in Booterstown
this week, but am afraid to venture, though it is very sheltered, and
Father Doyle most pressing. We are too fall here for hot weather, nnd
we expect two more. Thus we go on, my dear Sister, flourishing in the
midst of the cross, a more than common share of which has lately fallen
to my lot. I humbly trust it is the Cross of Clirist. I endeavor to make
it in some way like His by silence and resignation.

I hope you hear from our dear Sister M. Josephine Boaietimcs. Each
of her letters to me is more expressive of gratitude and affection xhan
the former. This is consoling, as it shows that her happiness is evi-
dently increasing, thank God. I scarcely ever felt more surfirised than
on reading a letter from Sister M. Teresa to Sister Cecilia, on " Geraldine"
joining the Order. Indeed, if you saw it, you would say she improved.
All here were astonished. Sister M. Di Fazzi should have it in her own
hand. I regretted very much that the packet was going out before I
could show it to her mamma. I have been often severe to her on that
subject, so I lost no time in thanking her for this first creditable produc-
tion. She is never troublesome, or complaining of any thing, or pressing
me i • go to Kingstown, and all with her are most happy, even my per-

verF'C C . 1 fear poor Sister Jane will have to leave, she often looks

like poor Maria — quite blue. Iler mother has made a settlement on her,
or, as we now term it, " settled for the bread and butter." For Booters-
town we have marked out Sister M. Cecilia, Superior : Sister M. Aloysia,
to manage the collection business and servants. Sister Marmion must
be off duty, except a little walking in good air. Sister Mary is quite
strong and useful, has the whole house on her shoulders — ii-armarian
and cell regulator, etc. — qidto a dear, valuable little Sister.

All goes on well in Tullamore. Mrs. F. has not fulfilled her engage-
ment for Charleville, pcriiaps she may. I did hope to liave our laundry
commenced by this ; but delays are innumerable. By Dr. Mtzgerald's
particular advice, we are leaving it to Mr. Mullen, though he charges
higher than others. What would I not give to see it at full work I We
must g^ve up all our garden for drying-ground and gn^ass-plot ; but there
can be a walk around it. Remember me to all the dear Sisters, and to all
you wish I should remember. Believe me at all times, and . nder all
circumstances, the very same fondly attached

XI.

Mart C. McAcley.

- • St. Annk'*, BooTKRBTo-wN, Juno 18, 1888.

Yesterday I received your note, dattid 3d instant. The music was ready ;
but, as usual, I was left to guess all about it. We have a sad practice of
not mentioning in time what is to be forwarded. I feel mortified that

"".''sSlfyfi^ ~

APPEIIDIX.

479

ig — und they have
ihat you liave im-
as in Booterstown
'ery sheltered, and
: hot weather, and
, flourishing in the
;h has lately fallen
; endeavor to make

soanetimcB. Each
and affection *.han
r happiness is evi-
lore surprised than
ilia, on " Geraldine"
L say she improved,
have it in her own
goinf out before I
irere to her on that
t creditable produc-
nytlung,orpre8ring
happy, even myper-
eavc, she often looks
a settlement on her,
itter." For Booters-
r : Sister M. Aloysio,
lister Mannion must
Bister Mary is quite
loulders— ii-VJrmurian

I Sister.

fulfilled her engage-
to have our laundry

By Dr. tltzgerald's
1, though he chargea
it at full workl We
grass-plot ; but there
dear Sisters, and to all

times, and . nder all

Maby C. McAdlby.

isrowN, Juno 16, 1888.

The music was ready ;
I have a sad practice of

I feel morUfied that

yoa should be disappointed. I hurried out here to get my poor Teretm
change of air. She is ' etter already : but fretting so much at being taken
from her employment, that I fear the good effects will be neutralized.
She annoyed us by her gloomy manner. The business goes on just aa
well with Sister Scott, though I was alarmed enough on seeing how con-
stantly she attended to it. Teresa distressed me much yesterday. It
looked as though she was sorry to hear the business went on as usual.
Please God, she will triumph over these human weaknesses, and I rejoice
iu the good which will result from her seeing that those thiags do not
depend on any one in particular, but only on the continuance of God's
blessing. This house is etter than I expected. The cells are uncom-
fortable, doors so very large, and in the centre, so that the head of the
bed would not fit at either side, and the windows as large, opposite the
door. The only way with room is across, which scarcely leaves a pass at
the foot — thus [here is an explanatory drawing]. My jwor Teresa is
coughing now. She has that cough more than seven months, bat not
the expectoration. Her appetite is better, thank God.

I had a note from Sister M. Josephine ; she always writes such satisfac-
tory notes. Dr. Murphy likes her very much. His Lordship has been
here. There is too much co'ition in Cork to build in a hurry, but they
have a good residence for their number. I trust your cells will not have
too much door, and will have a good place for a bed, wWch might have
been here had the doors been put to one end ; thus — [here is another
drawing], in place of which we have a great wide door in the centre, op-
posite a large vrindow. " Mrs. Duflfy "* is very bold— she has the whoop»
ing-cough. This is a queer mixture, but she is just making a great noise.
Wo brought her here for change of air. We have troublesome neigh-
bors, and feel it. Bishop Murphy was here twice. We have a majority
of Bishopb, at all events. Take care not to let this nonsense be subject to
any eye but your own. May God bless and protect you, and make you
the instrument of Tlis glory. May He prepare you all to enter the new
convent with a heart entirely devoted to Himsolf.

P. S.— I went to town and forgot this letter. I am so confused — and

never dressed so neat as my fiyar, darling Fanny used to fix her old

Mother. I am at this moment in a fuss at being obliged to appear ia

disorder.

XII.

" ' To Vert Rev. Andrew Fit7-gebald, D. D. * *

CoNVBNT, BooTKRSTOwN, July 8, 1888,
My DE.\n Reverend Sir :
I had the pleasure of receiving your kind letter, and hav. admitted the

• ' Mrs. Duffy" wu a pet name for one of tlie orphina. If the little one alluded to under
tills tit'.o b« sllll living, she must Brid » safeguard la the memory of the iwaet spirit that
watched OTer her w^yward childhood.

480

APPENDIX.

p^ jr gill for wliom yon are bo interested. When I return to Baggot
Street I shall g^ive every attcntiou to your wishes respecting her. Every
thing here is much more satisfactory than we expected. I know you will
be pleased to hear that Father Ennis* is remarkably lilnd, and anxious
tc do all in his power to promote our comfort. He regrets the past, and
says if he lives seven years more, it will be atoned for. When you were
in town 1 mentioned to you a young widow from Madras, who seemed dis-
posed to unite with us. Her director re^mmended Rathfamam Convent.f
She entered there, but has left, saying she felt a strong preference l}r
the Order of Mercy. I hope I shall have her to introduce to you when I
have the happiness to see you again. Mr. Mullen's estimate for the
laundry is five hundred pounds less than the other, which greatly but
prised us. He is quite interested, and thinks it will give much value tc
the Institute. The sincere, afibctionate concern which, my dear sir, yon
have ever manifested, makes me desirous to communicate every thing to
you.

The delightful description I get of Carlow Convent makes me anxious
to see it. It-y innocent Sister M. Frances says the poplars are in fiill
bloom, T ith evergreens between, and roses growing on the mound.

I am almost afraid to hear of the Limerick foundation, lest it should
come in the way of my visit to Carlow. I have reason to expect conclu-
sive arrangements, but we must put it off a little. Father Cooke, of
Charleville, has been here. He comforted me greatly by the account ho
gave of the Sisters. He said if he were obliged to go to England to beg

for the erection of a convent, they should be at no loss by Miss C 'a

marriage. This was very strong language from rather a cold character.

We have a striking example before us of the power we possess of ex-
erdning imweoricd efforts of mind and body, in the perpetual movements
of the steam-carriages which seem just passing our windows.

I know you do not forget me, and remain, my dear Kev. Sir,

Your ever-grateful and affectionate M. C. McAtjlet.

P. S. My brother came to see me, and I find that the apprehensions I
expressed to you about religious influence with James and Robert, were,
thank Qod, without foundation."

XIII.
• Bt. Maky's, Ddbun, August, 1888.

As to my delay in writing to you, I Lave been tortured with my ulcer-
p*ied mouth, only just getting a little bettor ; and, in the midst of other

* Father EnnIs vas a partloiilar ttWni of Kluthcr HcAuley's, and as ho had mnoh inlla-
ence with Dr. M<>]rlor, Rho reasonably vxpocied he would use It In bor favor when iheehsp-
lalncy difllciiltios oocurred. Iiillils she was dlsappolntod.

t Kathfarnam Convent, the inollior House of the Loretto Nans In Ireland, an Ortltr
fuundad by Mrs. Aloysla Ball, fur the education of the uppur Mid middle olaasas.

■■MHm^

return to Baggot.

Ipccting her. Every

led. I know you will

|y kind, and anxiooB

egrets the past, and

r. When yon were

Jdras, who seemed dis-

lathfamam Convent.f

strong preference lor

roduco to you when I

en's estimate for the

er, which greatly sur

1 give much value to

hich, my dear sir, you

unicate every thing to

ent makes me anxious
ho poplars are in full
ig on the mound,
indation, lest it should
eason to expect conclu-
ttle. Father Cooke, of
jatly by the account he
) go to England to beg

10 loss by Miss C 'i

athor a cold character.
)ower we possess of ex-
le perpetual movementa
ir windows.
3ar Kev. Sir,

M. C. McAin-KY.
lat the apprehensions I
unes and Robert, were.

, DuBLiK, August, 1838.
tortured with my ulcer-
, in the midst of other

''8, and M ho had muoh inila-
It In hor hvor when the eh«p-

a Nana In IreUnd, m Ordtr
uid lulddU olmnii

APPENDIX.

481

matters, the Limerick Foundation was pressed and concluded for the first
week in September. You may be sure this is sorrowful news for me if I
cannot go to Carlow, but it is impossible to put it off. The season does
not admit of delay — we are too late as it is. We have not yet determined
who will go beddes Sisters Elizabeth Moore and M. Vincent Hartnett.
The account given of all our dear Sisters who have gone forth is so satis-
factory, that our Invitations are endless. Father O'Hanlon has just re'
turned from Cork, Charleville, and Tullamore. He was never such an
advocate for founding Houses as he is now. I do not mention to him our
invitations, lest he should bo pressing what cannot be done. We are
near a stop — I should say a full stop. H^.r.da and feet are plentiful
enough, but the Tieadt are nearly all gone. Get all the prayers you can
that we may get well through this business. I need not pity yon and
myself for our mutual disappointment, but, please Ood, I will avail my-
self, on my return, of the permission I got, and if I cannot see the convent
Uessing, I hope to see it liett, which is as good. Remembor me to all the
dear Sisters, now a fine flock, thank Qod. Your fond and faithful Sister
Teresa is doing a great deal for the poor of Kingstown.

- ■ ■'^•:" . ' 3av. . ' ■ _

St. Mart's Convknt, Livsbick, November 17, 1888.
I would have written sooner, but waited to tell you when we expect
to leave this, which was not decided till yesterday. I hope to be with
you on the Feast of tlie Conception, but am not yet sure that drcum-
Btonccs wiU admit of it. Poor Sister M. Di Pazzi has been ill so fre-
quently since I left Dublin that I dread every account. She writes to me,
but is not aware I have been told. I did not stay one day for res* or
recreation, but extreme caution was necessary in selecting Sisters likely
to make a good steady beginning, and I trust we have succeeded. The
House of Men^ opens on Monday.

XV.

Baooot-stiiixt, December, 1888.

We got through onr oeremony under painful circumstances. Poor
Mrs. Marmion* got her last illness just when retreat commenced. We
concealed it from Sister Frances, but on the third day, as she passed
t>jough thq hall, she heard a rocbBag*) given. She remained perfectly
quiet, till the day of her profession. She merely read her vows, then
went immediately to hor dear mamma, who was in great joy to see her
a nun. She lived four days, her cUldren all about her. " I wonder is
there a woman in the world dying so happily or "," said she. Indeed, she
wna highly favored by Qod 1

* Three of Mrs. Mtrmlou'i dtugbtere were BUten of Heroy.

482

^PENDIX.

The Ulomination is very nicely done. I think the printing remarkably
good. The Judgt/* aays the etching woold be very good, if it were not
BO heavy ; but I do not mind half what she says on these scientific
points, which she delights in unfolding.

XVL

>.: , :'!-

Baooot-strikt, Fs-tmary, 1889.

I cannot describe the Joy yoor letter afforded me. I fear I am in dan-
ger of getting a little jealous. Poor Baggot-street is outdone. If yea
make a Foundation already, I may retire fh>m business, and certainly
without having made a fortune. Dr. Fitzgerald is delighted. The school
exceeds all he hoped for. He is really gratified, which is a great comfort
to me. Bishop Murphy celebrated Mass here. Dr. Fitzgerald attending him.
You could not think of anything more venerable than the two white
heads. Bight Rev.Dr. Murphy will vii^t you. I hope he may see all together.

Mr. Boylan told me he never saw anything prettier than your choir,
and rejoiced that he was just in time to prevent the same mistake that
was made hsrre — that of putting on colors too soon.

In separating from the sisters for Naas, you have a trial to go through.
Remember the venerated Dr. Nolan's words, "It ia my lot." To reflect
that it is'the lot or portion God has marked out for us, will be sufllcient
in every emergency, and that in the cheerful performance of every part
of our "lot," our sanctification consists. There is reason to believe you
have been an obedient child, since to the obedient victory is given. May
Ood continue his blessings to you, and render you every day more de-
serving of them.

I suppose you have seen Oerdldine'i third volume ; something about
the Order of Mercy in it. She is getting the three fancifully bodnd for
her grandmother. I wish my dear respected eldest sonf would come to
her profession ; that would make me feel quite a charming young woman
again. v

Oive my most affectionate love to all my dear grandchildren

Father O'Hanlon was delighted with your letter. There was scarcely
ever a more disinterested friend. Always remember him distinctly. No
Mrs. Bridgman entered in Limerick.. They have not the honor of a
widow yet. Bister Teresa continues most ardent in all her employments.
Our last, a sweet young creature, reminds me of our first fiork.

•>»t:

.i if>.,..it..

xvn.

Dublin, January, 1889.
I have come back to my old comer to write to you after all are gone to
bed ; we are exactly as yon left us. We expect a postulant, not twenty

•The Jadge— « BtBter skllUd lu painting, lllamlntUon, tM,
t B*T. Mr. NoUn, of Carlow.

ke prindng remarkably

' good, if it were not

bjB on these scientific

KT, F'tmary, 1889.

I fear I am in dan-

et is outdone. If you

business, and certainly

delighted. The school

hich is a great comfort

tzgerald attending him.

le than the tiro white

he may see all together.

ttier than your choir,

the same mistake that

i a trial to go throngh.
M my lot." To reflect
x OS, will be sufficient
formance of every part
s reason to believe yon
victory is given. May
rou every day more de-
lame; something about
ree fancifully bo&nd for
9Bt sonf would come to
:harming young woman

randchildren
)r. There was scarcely
iber him distinetlj/. No
ve not the honor of a
In all her employments.
ai first flork.

DimuN, January, 1889.
'ou after all are gone to
I postulant, not twenty

ilDkUon, te

>«««,,

APPENDIX.

483

yet, very pleasing and very musical. It is past ten ; the fire is out, and
the windows are making an awful noise ; so I mtist Imve done. I could
not descril>e the extreme kindness of Bishop Haly. He was afraid I
might be uneasy lest the little arrangements he made should cause you
any uneasiness, and he gave the most full and unquestionably faithful
assurance of deepest interest and regard. You all have a true father
in him.

May God blew, guide, and protect you and your charge. Oood-night,
my dearest child, j;;; -, .?.—•. - Your fond,

■ Ciii : ji ?>wki MABT C. McAULBT,

xvm.

St. Mart's, January 10, 1880.

I have been uneasy since I heard how you were affected, though I am
aware there may be no serious cause. Let me entreat you not to be
going out in the garden the mildest days in this month without careful
lapping up. Have your shawl crossed on your chest, and your feet very
warm. I charge you, if you have any affection for me, not to be looking
after the building at present.

Our poor Sisters White are in great affliction. An account of their
brother William's death, ^thout priest or friend, came on Monday. We
have just 'returned fW>m a visit to his poor little widow. I never wit-
nessed such a scene ; she seems nearly deranged, and her mother almost
as bad. They say he was so good and amiable. The nor- Sisters here
are as sorrowful as they can be — a quiet, silent sorrow, ,i course. I suppose
you heard of Father Carroll's death. Since it was the holy will of God
to call Mm, there is every reason to rejoice in the pity and mercy which
rescued him from sudden death and protracted decline. Dr. Crompton
said he would linger some months. His death is considered a happy
one, and if so, that his journey should be shortened is a blessing indeed.

Many circumstances unite to keep me from you. It would not do well
to desert the poor old House just now. My poor James and Robert are

gone from mo. My poor Sister Teresa C in the same state. How

little we thought she would see our dear Father Cu roll gone. He was
most anxious aboufher latterly. I have been so much interrupted with
inquiiies about " OeraUtiru," that this will not be in time for the post.

XDL

St. Mart's, January 80, 1889.
Thank Qod, you are all safe after the storm. The accounts from
Limerick were as usual much exaggerated ; but we heard the convent
was safe. We remained in our cells all night — some in a tremor, other*
sleepinir. The morning presented an altered scene indeed. The com-
munity-room a complete ruin in app^rance, though not much ii\jured in

mtm

484

APPENDIX.

reality. The prints and pictures all on the ground — only two broken ;
the maps and blinds flying like the sails of a ship ; the bookstand down,
the cabinet removed from its place, and the chairs all upset; sixteen
panes of glass broken, and such a body of air in the room that we could
scarcely stand. The windows are still boarded up. It is almost impos-
sible to get a glazier. Several houses were blown down, and many lives
lost ; your friends and Sister M. Vincent's are safe. The Sisters in
Carlow passed the night in the choir ; part of their very old roof blown
down ; the beautiful Cathedral much injured. The chimneys of the
new convent in Tullamore were blown down ; the old one and the
Sisters safe, thank Qod.

XX.

St. Maiit's, January 80, 1840.

As to the application to Rome, I did exactly what was marked out for
me — a petition firom the Mother House, a memorial from the Archbishop
of Dublin, praying a Confirmation of the Rales to which his Approbation
is attached ; letters of recommendation from the Bishops in whose dio-
ceses branches of the Order are established. This has been fully ex-
ecuted. The episcopal letters were as favorable as possible. I am sure
very Rev. Father Maher is sufiBciently interested in ua to do all in his
power. I think a private letter to his nephew in Rome would have more
effect than one ol^ta'asd through influence, and I am certain he has done
whatever he thought likely to promote success.

I had a long letter from Sister M. Josephine. She says : Sister M.
iip^ncis is in deep decline ; only for this we should be too happy. Our
House of Mercy is opened ; all our debts are paid, though the addition
cost five hundred pounds. The day we conmienced, our dear Bishop
Murphy gave us fifty pounds. He is delighted to see the poor young
women protected. I think this is the best branch of our Institute.

-... ':■=..-.,•:• i ■ XXL " ■ . .

;- ' .^ ' ; ^ " Not fit to appear."

Perplexed and weary — out of conceit with everything, I sit down to
talk with my dear old companion and affectionate child. Your letter was
read again and again, as a solace which Qod sent me. To hear you were
recovering was the happiest communication I could receive, though I
did not for a moment lot myself think otherwise. Our dear Sister Teresa

G continues most delicate— the least breeee brings a return of the

oougL. She is to try Booterstown next week, provided there is no blast.
You would be surprised to see how anxious Father O'Hanlon is about
her. Ho has just lost his own favorite sister by decline, and he notices
the change in my iwor Teresa from week to week.

A parcel came for Sister Catherine. The books not fit for her present

md— odIj two broken j
the bookstand down,
iira all upset; sixteen
bhe room that we could
ip. It is almost impoe-

down, and manj lives

safe. The Sisters in

elr very old roof blown

The chimneys of the

the old one and the

ry's, Januory 80, 1840.

hat was marked out for

ial from the Archbishop

which his Approbation

e Bishops in whose die-

This has been fully cx-

as possible, I am sure
i in us to do all in his
I Rome would have more
[ am certain he has done

B. She says : Sister M.
uld be too happy. Our
dd, though the addition
tenced, our dear Bishop
to see the poor young
h of our Institute.

'^erything, I sit down to
B child. Tour letter was
me. To hear you were
could receive, though I
Our dear Sister Teresa
I brings a return of the
ovided there is no blast,
ither O'Hanlou is about
decline, and he notices
k.
B not fit for her present

APPENDIX.

485

slate— some very objectionable poetry. When I take that out, I irill
send the rest, which is amusing. The »ugar-»tiek» are for her. Tell all the
dear children I feel most grateful for their kind notes, and will soon reply.

Poor Sister M. Frances goes on the same hopeless way. Most melan-
clioly are their protracted maladies — six fevers would, in my opinion, be
preferable. But Qod's holy will be done in all things — may Ho never
leave the choice to uk We cannot be unhappy while we love and serve
Him faithfully.

Sister M. Teresa and I felt disappointed that Father Maher did not
cell to see us when in town. Bemember as most respctfully to him,
find to all the kind fathers.

xxn.

Gat.wat, Juno 80, 1840.

I enclosed your letter relative to Sister M. Aloysia. Dr. Gorrigan
thinks Booterstown air as good as any other for her. She is gone there.

You may judge how poor Sister Mary Anne feels at being obligbd to
iedine Fatlier Mathew's offer to preach at the ceremony. The Bishop
would think it imprudent to excite the distillers just now. I suppose
he hopes the good work of temperance may go on quiuUy. It was a little
presuming, but we are certain her intention was pure. She writes, " It
was too much for rae to ask."

Thank God, the Sisters here are very comfortable before I leave them.
I had a letter from London. Bishop Murphy has written to Sister M.
Clare to .iy he will go for her in August, though ho adds, " your place
here is well supplied." The Bishop of London wishes her to stay an-
other year. " Let their Lordships settle it between them," she says, " I
feel no anxiety." .; . ■ , ,

xxm.

St. Mary's, Baooot-stwekt, July 8, 1840.
Such a number of persons to be instruotod in Kingstown that wo have
not seats for them. All the delicate flock in Booterstown, excep* my

poor Sister Teresa C , who clings to her charitable employment. I

wish very much Sister Aloysia was in Carlow for a while. She does not
improve much. Her loss would be felt indeed. She is so much beloved
by all. After retreat I will urge her going. She is afraid of giving trouble,
though indeed she never gives any that could be avoided. In her pre-
sent state she requires assistance.

XXIV. ■ •*■' ■

DcBLiw, Angnst, 1840.

I am quite uneasy at not getting a few lines to say how our dear Sister

M. Aloysia is. Mother Dl Pazzl thinks sho is confined to l>ed, and that

you wait till she is better. I trust in Qod it is not so. Will you tell me

how she is, and if her appetito is improving. All well here, making

486

APPENDIX.

great resolutions to profit of the excellent instmcJom we leoeiTed in
retreat.

Very Rev. Dr. Butler has arrived here to conduct Sisters M. Xavier
and De Sales to London. His health is so bad that he is ^uite impatient
to return lest the weather should change. He is in great trouble lest
the Irish air should disagree with him. Poor man, he is in a very pre-
carious state. It is providential I do not go to Caffl>w, lest I should be
tempted to take Sister Aloysius away. Mother Di Pazzi is anxiood for
her return. Father O'Hanlon desires me positively not to think of it.
This month will be most useful to her. We are scattering our nice pro-
fessed. Sister M. Teresa, the Less, we left in Limerick, almost native air.
She has evident signs of deep enlargement of the liver. The Bishop of
Limerick knows her mamma, and was quite pleased at her being left.

Our postulants' white satin dresses were cut up for copes, etc. The
convent was crowded after the ceremony — all anxious to see Father
Mathew. The young ladies' families would do anything for religion.

,1 .-.(-.• ., ?-,v XXV.
" ,- ..... St. Mary's, October 2fl, 1840.

Thank God, I am at rest again. I think the name of another Foundiu
tion would make me sick, but the Sisters say I would get up again. In-
d '7d, the thought of one at present would greatly distress me. On the
late occasion I travelled a hundred miles a d<Ly, which is very fatiguing
except on railroads. Poor Dr. Fitzgerald is much altered, but looks bet-
ter than I expected. His mind seems as sound as ever. He saye our
Englieh Sisters are not at all to be compared to his Sisters in Carlow.

I feel quite an^dous to do any thing in my power to forward the pious

wishes of Miss M . I rejoice in seeing a good Sister added to our

Order anywhere, but I would think it imprudent to press what Father
Croko is opposed to. He never took more interest than he does now. It
is most fortunate, and a blessing, indeed, that he takes the part of a guar-
dian in full authority. I forget the lady, but if she is nice, I think they
would take her in Galway, provided what is promised be secured.
Father Daly requires that. If she is plain, she would not be acceptable
there. He would not admit a County Qalway person on the same terms,*
but from a quarter where it will not be known, I think I can induce him
to take her. Yon would not bring discredit on me with him, and if the
Uttle creature is too plain, you will tell me, I know.

Sister M. Aloysia must soon try what she can do, so tell her to prepare,
as she says she is quite well. Nothing more likely to keep her so than
reasonable occupation of mind and body. She has got petting enough
for one season. I believe we are retiring from business — no postulantt

With less fortune than £800.

APPENDIX.

487

jicJona yre leoeiTed In

uct Sisters M. Xavier

!t he is quite impatient

in great trouble lest

he is in a very pre-

iTOw, lest I should be

Fazzi is anxioud for

ely not to think of it.

cattering our nice pro-

irick, almost native air.

liver. The Bishop of

ed at her being left.

up for copes, etc. Tlie

mxious to see Father

lything for religion.

by's, October 2fl, 1840.
me of another Foundiu
9uld get up again. In-
ly distress me. On the
which is very fatiguing
I altered, but looks bet-
as ever. He says our
is Sisters in Carlow.
er to forward the pions
lod Sister added to our
t to press what Father
t tluin ho does now. It
akes the part of a guar-
he is nice, I think they

promised be secured,
juld not be acceptable
ion on the same terms,*
think I can induce him
le with him, and if the
w.

>, so tell her to prepare,
ly to keep her so than
M g^t petting enough
usiness— no postulants

on the way. When onr sweet English Sisters go, we shall have plenty
of vacant cells. Perhaps some may bo thinking of us. Whatever Qod

The Apostle of Temperance will be in town till Wednesday ; until
then I must remain. I will bring one of onr English novices, who has
that kind of cough ttAt a little change of air removes. She has it rather
too long, bat is otherwiae in good health.

XXVL •

St. Mart's, December, 1840.

As usual, Sisters drop in here out of the sky. Two have concluded to
enter on the Immaculate Conception, and three on the Octave. O'Con
ncll's speeches have brought ns into fiishion.

There cannot be any objection to your wearing cashmere cloaks, if
you prefer them. I believe the Sisters everywhere think they look more
religious. It would be difficult to preserve them in winter ; the frequent
cleansing in Dublin would soon make them look badly.

The first prayer I offered on my arrival, was to return most grateful
thanks to Qod for the sweet, heavenly consolation I received in my visit
to Carlow, and Implore His blessing and gracious protection for those
who have been so instrumental in bringing that brauch to its present
flourishing and happy state. My anxiety about the opening in Wexford'
increases every hour. Commence the visitation of the sick as soon as
possible. Let four go out at a time, and do not let the least difference
appear in dress, shape of bonnet, etc. They are so long expected, that
every eye will be tamed on them, and tehile we place all our eonfldenee
in God, tee mvM always aetaaifaU depended on our own exertions. Get
Father Maher to preach at the profession, and beg of him to assist you
in forming this new branch — a good beginning is of great importance. I
sincerely hope Father Lacy will not famish the convent in a worldly
style. A few days since I heard " the fashions of N " spoken of.

Sister M. Teresa, the Lete,* is on her way from Limerick. I am dis-
tressed to find the good parish priest taking the trouble to accompany
her, at such a busy season. A thousand loves to all.

xxvn.

St. Mart's, December, 1810.
From what yoa say of the Orphan House, in Wexford, I should think
it quite suitable. I recollect on^ of the objections started here was, that
the engraved stone, with " Orphan House," could not be removed, and
that the Sisters might be regarded as matrons of the establishment
This, I think, could never be. I am certain the title would be changed

• Tb«re were ao many Slaten of tbe ntme ofTereu, that Mother HoAnley dlattnguisbM
them, sometlmw by their leoolar namee, and aometimea by their stature, as abova.

•^^mi^fffnKifmmffm

488

APPENDIX.

immediately, whatever stone was up. You migbt propose having "In-
Btitntion of Mercy" substituted, as some public tribute is necessary to the
memory of the l>enefactors.

We got another Sister this morning — a nice little creature — (light
purse). I am fonder of Sister M. Aloysius, since she came home, tlian
ever I was ; she shows such affectionate gratitude for your liindness to her.

I wish Sister N had gone to Naas, but now she would not think

of it. God forbid tliat I should ever get a Sister by disappointing the

hopes of another House. Do not speak to Sister M. J of her letter,

which I enclose. She would reasonably conclude it was not sent as a
mark of approbation ; but I think it well to let you I'now that Mr. and

tin. B are her agents In endeavoring to procure subjects. You

might say that I was mortified on hearing that Mrs. B promised to

bring the Sister ir. question, and that «A« acceded without taking any
part. This is disedifying, and will create much talk. Father Ilume
was here to-day. I pressed the Sister to go to Naas, but she would not

consent. Did you ever hear such a strange proceeding ? Sister M. J

will never advance the good work this way.

The truly charitable Mr. Dcvereux was so kind as to call on us, and,
as usual, it was not a mere visit of compliment. He always brings what

fiister Teresa C calls " good luck." O'Connell came next day with ten

pounds for the poor, and an unknown benefactor with five. We remark
something of this kiud always after Mr. Devereux, of Wexford, visits us.

I had a strong remonstrance from Dr. Butler, of London, about the
new branches being dedicated under any other title than that of " Of our
Lady of Mercy." Ho says : " The Order will in time degenerate if this
is let to pass. We shall soon seek in vain for a convent of Sisters of
Mercy." If he hears of the Orphan House I will get another lecture.
His pious pride is quite wounded.* Bishop Fleming is or^ng the New-
foundland mission. We announced that whoever could do without milk
in her tea should go there, and M. Di Fazzi has so for offered herself an
efficient candidate.

xxvin.

Convent, BafTKot-street.

I am most anxious to hear of the dear Sister in fever ; please God, it

will not end in death. Father O'Hanlon will expect me to let him know.

His care and anxiety for us aU increase every day. He said, v^esterday,

•' This is my fourteenth year among you." Sister Mary C is a char-

* Dr. Butler was s flrm friend and liberal benefactor to the rlaing Order. He did not
visli that new Housea should bo dedicated under any title but that of " Oar Lady of if«(^
oy," but this Mother MoAulej left to the Sitters who founded them. He was opposed to
pension day-schools, and wanted the Foundress to Insert a clause against them In her Rule.
But In this she did not yield to him, as the poor migbt be benefited, directly or Indirectly,
by those schools : and the authorities who conSrmed the Rule were aware that tlipse day-
■ehoola were established In Carlow, Cork, Qalway, etc, and yet made no ni Jrciicni lo tlicni.

APPENDIX.

489

propoae having "In-
te is necessaiy to the

tile creature — (light
16 came home, than
rour liindness to her.
he would not think
f disappointing the

J of her letter,

t was not sent as a

l-now that Mr. and
!ure subjects. You

B promised to

(rithout taking any
Uk. Father Hume
, but she would not
g? Sister M.J

to call on us, and,
always brings what
le next day with ten
I five. We remark
Wexford, visits us.
London, about the
lan that of " Of our
degenerate if this
ivent of Sistcra of
Bt another lecture.
is urging the New-
Id do without milk
ofiered herself an

INT, Bnjrgot-street.
rer; please God, it
le to let him know.
He said, Yesterday,
ry C is a char-
ing Order. He did not
if " Our Lady qf Mer-
I. }le was opposed to
Unat them In her Rule.
directly or Indirently,
•ware that tlipse day-
no oljccllon to them.

•eter not suited to my ability to govern, though possessing many most
estimable qualities. She teased and perplexed me so much alx>ut the
ditficulty of copying the two pages, that I was really obliged to give up,
unwilling to commiMid lest it should produce disedifying con8tM|uences.
She said it would take the whole Lent. Slie is very slow ; you can have
no idea how little she does in a week — as to a day's work, it is laugh,
able. She will sometimes show me three leaves, saying, " I finished these
to-day." Three rose or lily leaves !*

' The little girl I wrote about annoyed me somewhat. She let her mar-
ried sister till Wednesday, when both called. She did not like to go to
Wexford ; uud the very reason her sister had for desiring it, was the
chief cause of her objection — a long connexion of her brother-in-law's.
She is not half alive, and wishes to hide her little head. I really scolded
her. I told her it was no matter the Wexford Superioress and myself
had the trouble of writing, but it was quite too bad that the Bishop
should have been spoken to. She has the holy art of keeping custody of
the eyes, for she seldom opens them. She applied to come here, but her
means not being suflScient, I declined. Her sister now says she will
forego some portion of her own property to get h^ settled here — her
husband being wi'ling she should do so. U it is arranged, I taall havs a
nice task opening the eyes of the little recluse. I shall have all the talk,
however, for she is as meek as a dove. I did hope she would have
fancied poor Birr, which I represented as it deserves, but carefully
avoided recommending any in particular. I think a little girl wou't give
me BO much to do in future. I read the whole of Father Maher's sermon
for the Sisters, so you may say my lungs are good yet ; it is spoken of as
an excellent explanation of the two states, and is equally instructiTO

toboth. ■■■:_.-■'. / , , »

XXIX.

8t. John's, BntR, February 14, 1811,
What comfort it gives me to hear of your continued happiness in Gal-
way. I could not express the gratitude I feel for the parish priest's
afiectionate kindness to you all ; and, next to the glory given to God, I
rejoice that his expectations have not been disappointed. Your little In-
stitute is much spoken of. Please God, one yt.^ur will forward it greatly.

XXX. " ^^ '^-'v

St. Mabt's, Baooot-btrekt, February, 1841.
I have just received your letter, and am rejoiced to hear you are going

* A day's work, in eoDventaal parlanoe, means the work one does at the leoturc* and
recreations— the rest of the time being generally oconpled by the duties of the Instltuta.
Though the Fonndreia could draw ground-pIaoN etc., the was evidently no artist, else sh«
would not blame her spiritual daughter's slowness. Even three rose or Illy leavys Is not so
little, If well done, for a conventna' day's work. Good artlsU arc slow,

,.-f::hm

-im'

APPENDIX.

to Wexfurd. I often meditated writing a petition to Bishop Haly to that
efibct, bat was afraid of being a busybody. I liave found a second visit
to a branch exceedingly useful — not for wliat wo can say or do, for our
esi>ericnce in lieligious life has been so short, tliat a good, fait'.iful Sister,
to whom Uod has imparted grace, may be said to know as much of the
spiritual life as we. Yet it is most useful to give ussistance for some
time. It animates beginners, and gives confidence to others. I have
been told that it made parents and guardians give countenance, and say
that they could not fear failure where such attention was given, not only
by their own Bishop, but also by the Bishop from whose diocese the
Sisters came. It bespeaks a warm interest in the success of the new
branch, and will be found conducive thereto. It was not thought we
could succeed in Galway, where there were five old-established nunneries.
On oar second visit, Bishop Browne said, from the altar: "It is impos-
sible that the Order of Mercy should fail^ where such unity and such
affectionate interest are maintained, as bring its members hundreds of
miles to encourage and aid one another. It is their established practice
to look after what has been newly commenced." Several persons told
me that these words were more usefiil to us than I could suppose. We
were thinking of each other just at the same time. I got your letter the
day you got mine.

I am surprised that some Sisters have added our name to their own ;
but, as I hear " the affiur of honor" will be settled ^j Y«irj Bev. Mr.
Maher, I refrain from all further remaika. . . r>,j|,gj/ 7,.5^r.¥^f

BAeooT-STBUT, liny, 1841.

Sister M. Cedlia is better, but still very weak, getting exactly the same
treatment as you g^ve Sister M. Aloysios. She writes : " I can eat, drink,
sleep, and pray, orly as directed, and seeing that each of us cannot have
her own way, I seek refuge in sabmissiun," We have got a darling
little Sistet, granddaughter to Dr. Furlong. Though she has been a
constant visitor for two years, I did not think she was what I find her.
I am agreeably surprised in her. I have called her the Queen of the
Order — she is just her miyesty's size and age. K ever a human being
was formed without gall, it is she. The other little one is coming to life,
and we get a third from England soon. These would not do for founda-
tions. You could not avoid making a pet of Sister D , she is such a

dovelike creature. The Sisters in Wexford are to get the Parochial
House. Mr. Devereux gave eighty pounds towards preparing it for them.
God will ever bless him.

Thanks for the nice picture of St. Catherine. We had no folly here
on her day, so many in retreat — indeed, I was very glad. Lady Barbara

APPENDIX.

491

Bishop Haly to that

1 found a second visit
an say or do, for our
I good, fait'.iful Sister,
mow as much of the
3 iissistance for some
e to others. I have
Mtimtenance, and say
a was given, not only
n whose diocese the
e success of the new
was not thought we
established uanneries.
3 altar: "Itis impos-
sach unity and such
nembers hundreds of
r established practice
Several persons told
could suppose. We
I got your letter the

r name to their own ;
id by Veiy Rev. Mr.

OT-sntUT, liny, 1841.
iting exactly the same
es: " I can eat, drink,
«h of uB cannot have
I have got a darling
lugh she has been a
was what I find her.
ler the Queen of the
Bver a human being
one is coming to life,
dd not do for founda-

■ D , she is such a

o get the Parochial
preparing it for them.

Ve had no folly here
glad. Lady Barbara

Ayr Is fixed at last, an humble Sisier of Mercy. She is the first titled
ludy that became a nun in England for centuries. There have been hon-
orables, but not an earl's daughter. . : »

' . ■ ~r - XXXII.

St. Mabts, Muy 28, 1841.

Ood has sent you an affliction ; bat rest assured Ho will send you some
•distinguished consolation. Tou remember what Father Qafihey said to
us in retreat : " If the entire cross upon which Jesus died was sent to this
house, how eager would each Sister be to carry it ; and she who was
permitted to keep it longest, would be esteemed the most favored. Far
better and more profitable to receive with all your heart, the cross which
God sends you in any shape or form he pleases." I earnestly hope yon
will receive this trial, so as to make it valuable to you.

Bernard Kavanagh called here lately, aud asked to see the nuns. Sis-
ter Magdalen appeared. The following dialogue took place :

" Did you ever hear of Bernard Kavanagh ?"

"Yes."

" What did you hear of him ? What do the public say of him?"

" We know very little of public opinion."

"Would you like to see him?" "

" I am not very anxious." '•

" I am Bernard Kavanagh."*

He asked to see the schools, and said many spiritual thijigs. He is
thin, but not wasted ; features good, but expression of countenance weak
and simple, or foolish. Father Mathew says he is not an impostor, but a
lunatic.

The Bishop of Killaloe went through the ceremony as if he performed
it every week. He is a nice celebrant, and very kind and pleasing. The
Apostle received thousands into the Temperance Society. When the
people surround him, he has a most plaintive way of saying, " Ah ! don't
pull me, please."

xxxm.

.. ■• ;> . St. Maby's, June 19, 1841.

Our old beloved companion, Sister M. Clare, leaves this on Monday, ao-
companied by V. R. Dr. Butler, who goes to Carlow, on Dr. Taylor's in-
vitation.' ffister avails herself of this opportunity of visiting you. The
house in London is, thank Ood, well established, I am qi^te renovated
by a delightful addition to the flock, a sweet Scotch Sister, we got through
Mrs. Captain Osborn, a Sootph lady, who goes to Edinburgh every year.
The variety of accent at recreation is now quite amusing. We get a

• Bernard Kavanagh created maoh exoitement at that time, by maintaining ho could live
without food. He belonged to a town In Mayo, which bears the unpoctio name of Swlnford.

492

APPENDIX.

niece of the AiclibiBlicyB on Wednesday, danghterto his favorite brother.
I was delighted to hear from Father O'Hanlon that you had grand break-
fast for the LiBKRATOB* Wo are constantly hearing of the Carlow elec-
tion, a^id 've cannot forget to say : " God bless and protect Father Maher."
We expect Bishop Walsh, of Birmingham, to come to Ireland to receive
his spiritual children, and profess some of ♦hem. Dr. Wiseman is to
preach. It is impossible that more interest could be manifested than there
is on the other side of the Channel. May God bring us through this
business. His divine help alone can.

As we shall want all our little exhibitions, I hope you will send the
Register.! I felt a great want in not having it to show to Dr. Pusey, the
Hebrew Professor at Oxford, who spoke much of illuminated works.
These little afiairs are a good fill up, and spare the trouble of talking
much. - . .,. . .il

xxxrv,

St. Maiit'b, July, 1841.

A fe'v days before V, R Dr. Touen? came to Ireland, Sister Fanny had
a letter from her Bishop, Dr. Brown, who wishes to mako arrangemrints
here for the Liverpool foundation. Dr. Youens is so anxious, that it is a
pity to have any impedimei:t. He is endeavoring to get more ladies to

come here for preparation. Sister G would join at once. She is a

treasure— a sweet, docile, animated creature— all alive and delighted with
her duties. Sister Cecilia, you know, is a general favorite. This morn-
ing, the sweet little Scotch sister said to me : "What shall I do when
Mother Cecilia is gone ?" I am so much confined to one room, that they
seldom see me till recreation.

Sister Juliana's father is in a dying state, and hor family presring hor
return. We hope they will not hrve much more delay. Speaking does
not injure me ; I have been giving the novices Instructions daily for more
than a month. Thanks to God, they loye instruction, and are most anx-
ions to profit by it.

Poor Sister Justina, a fine young creature, has every symptom of decUne-
If possible, 1 will get her to go home for a while ; she would have more
chance of recovery. Dr. Stokes is attending her, at her father's request.

Sister M. de Sales (Lady Ayr) is now quite strong, and alio to virit the
sick. Miss Kelly is about to join them. Shu takes her "dear Jane's" cell.
I am sure they will go on in Bermondsey now. May God bloic you all."

« O'Connell w«b elected iPSUiber of ParlUmont for Carlow, 1841. Every morning durirg
the election he MsUted ttlfua, and received Holy Commnnlon In tbe chapel of tlie Con-
vent of Mercy, after which he honored tbe Bisters by remaining for l.reakftist

t The Keglster, In conventual parlance, menns a large book, In which are written or
printed the names of the Sisters, of their parents, and other particulars. That of Baggot-
street is exquisitely llluinlnated-a perfect K«ai. It WW lent to Carlo\y, th»t tl)9 Slsteri
there might copy ^mo of tbo designs.

e,;:Si(«Wr*<a:;/»-

APPENDIX.

bis favorite brother,
u had grand break-
of the Carlow elec-
;ect Father Maher."
I Ireland to receive
Dr. Wiseman is to
tnifested than there
ig us through this

you will send the
iw toDr.Pusey.the
illuminated works.

trouble of talking

Jahy's, July, 1841.
i. Sister Fanny had
naku arrangemiinta
Einxioua, that it is a
got more ladies to
at once. Bhe is a
I and delighted with
irorite. This morn-
at shall I do when
one room, that they

ramily presring hor
lay. Speaking does
itions daily for more
., and are most anx-

symptom of decline-
le would have more
ler father's request,
and aUo to virit the
r" dear Jane's" cell-
God Uocz you all."

, Every morning during
n tbe cbapel of tlie Con-
r lireakfMt

In which are written or

loulars. Thot of Baggot.

Carlo\y, |h»t tl)o Blateri

XXXV.

I never for one moment forgot you, or ceased to feel the most since]%
interest and affection, so forgive all my past neglect, and I will atone in
due season. A thousand thanks for the really nice articles contributed
for the bazaar. Tell my dear eistera I did not expect any this tin o. We
are to have five postulants from England this week, which puts me un-
avoidably under arrest. After their arrival, we start for Galway, go by
Tullamore, and proceed to Ijimpnck with our whole heart. Mother Di
■ Pazad sends her love, and is delighted you like the things she sent. A
new child enters on Thursday — our third since the la«t ceremony, so we
shall haVe a nice lot again, just when I thought we were retiring from
business.

I beg you to thank each dear Sister for the nice contributions. Dui).
lin seems completely tired of these little works. The spirit has fled to
Limerick, Galway, Cork, etc. For seven years we were wonderfully suc-
cessful, but we are so no longer. You have enriched our little store very
much. My poor Sister Teresa is as usual indefatigable, indeed she is ail
wo have acting in the matter. It seems very long to me si§co last I
wrote to you, but if you knew all the weary writing I have to do, you
would fully excuse me. God bless you, my own dearest child and
sister.

On the eve of the feast of Our Lady of Mercy, 1845, his Holiness Pope
Gregory XVI. was graciously pleased to mark }\^a approbation of the Sis-
ters of Mercy by granting to the whole Cong.egaton an Octave to the
Feast of Our Lady of Mercy, and a plenary indulgence, on the usual con-
ditions, to all the Mthful who visit the Churches belonging to the Order
in Ireland.
The following is translated from the Rescript sent to Baggot-street :
From an audience, twenty-third of September, 1845, Pope Gregory XVI.
has graciously granted to all the faithful who are truly penitent, have
confessed their sins, received the Holy Communion, and visit the Churches
of the Sisters of Mercy, erected or to be erected 'n Ireland, on the twenty-
fourth of September, the feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mercy, and
on the days of Octave of the same feast, and who then pray for the pro-
pagation of the Faithj a plenary indulgence that is available forever, and
applicable by way of suflOrage to the souls in purgatory. Signed N. N,

N. B. — The indulgences granted 1830, and other like privileges since
granted Ui the Order, are restricted to the Sisters of Mercy in Ireland,
and have to be specially applied for by those residing in other countries.

liiWi"'yiii

wmm

..- . P' ' i W '^ fJ'W »! ■ * ■■ i

494

APPENDIX.

Magdalen
nearly 800.

LIST OF THE CONVENTS, ETC.,

FOUNDED BY MOTHER MCAULKY.

Convent of Our Lady of Mercy* Baggot-street—fcanieA 1827.
Poor-Schools, Industrial, Literary, Infant, Juvenile Boys'.f Pupils,
2,000. Distressed women supported, 80. Hospital, Jervis-street. Mon-
ster Hospital, Mater Misericordke. Tliia latter ia exclusively under tlie
control of tl»e Sistei-s, and was eslablislied in compliance witli Mother
McAuley'8 desires, who was often grieved to observe that poor convales-
cents were dismissed from similar institutions before they were strong
enough to work. The Mater Misericordiee U considered among the best,
if not the very best, conducted establishment of its Iiind in the world. It
ia visited by physicians from all parts.

Adult Reformatory, 50. Juvenile Reformatory, 86. Poor cluldrrai at
the Golden Bridge Branch, 504. Yiaitation of the Sick, Prisons, Work-
honses, etc. Religious, 57.

St. Patriek'i, Singaoum. Qkuthide. 1884.
Asylum, PoorSehools, Literary and IndustriaL Pupils,
Instruction Classes for Adults, Visitation, etc Religious, 10.
8t. Joseph's, TuUamore. 1886.
PoorrSohools, ViaiUtlon, Distressed Women, etc. Select Day-School.
Pupils, 1,000. Religious, 84.

8t. Jouph's.CUfimUe. 1836.
Poor-Schools, Industrial, Infant, Distressed Women, Visitation of the
Sick, etc.. Orphan Asylum. Select Day-Sohool. Pupils, 800. Religious, 24
a. Leo's, Carlow. 1887.
Servants' Asjlum, Visitation of the Sick, Prisons, etc. Schoolfl, Day-
Sohool for the Middle Classes, etc. ReUglous, 86.

St. Marie's of the lOe, Cork, 1837. ReUgious, 44.
Poor-Schools, Industrial, Male and Female Infant-School. Pupils, 1,000.
Day-School for Middle Classea Pupils, 50. Male and Female Schools
for the Deaf and Dumb, Hospital, House of Mercy for one hundred poor
women. Orphans, 150. Visitation, Prisons, Workhouses, the Sick, etc.,
Blind Asylum.

St. Anne's, Booterstovm. 1888.
Poor-Schools. Pupils, nearly three hundred. Orphans, 42. Viitation,
etc. Religious, 9.

St. Mary's, Limerick. 1888. Religious. 00,
Infant. Industrial, Literary, Poor-Schools. Pupils, 5.000. Hospital for
the Poor-i>atients. 1,000. Orplians. 100. Widows' Asylum. Servants-
Asylum, Visitation, etc.. etc.

• (MM SL Cttherlne-s, •Ince 1811, In momory of the P«trone« of the Fonndrc*.
f Under ten jtut oftgaw

1111 m il i umj ii'M aM ^y

STC,

landed 1827.
} Boys'.t Pupili,
ervis-street. Mon-
clusively under the
liance with Mother
that poor convales-
e they were atrong
ed among the best,
id in the world. It

. Poor chQdrm at
Jick, Prisons, Work-

1884.

InduBtriaL Pupils,

L. etc Religioiis, 10.

Select Day-School.

m, ViBitatlon of the
1, 800. ReligiooB, 24

I, etc. SchoolB, Day-

;ioaB, 44.

chool. Pupils, 1,000.
and Female Schools
or one hundred poor
looses, the Sick, etc.,

hans, 43. Vintation,

lUB, CO,

I, 5,000. Hospital for

rs' Asylum, Servants'

leM oftbe FonndrcH.

▲FFBKDIX.

495

Owr Lady <^ Merey, Bermondiey, London. 1889.
In&nt, Industrial, literary, Poor-Schools. Hospitals, — Guy's, St. Thomas',
Great Ormond-street,— House of Mercy, Instruction Classes for Converts,
Visitation of Poor-Houses, Prisons, the Sick, etc. Pupils, about 1,000.
Religious, 40.

8t. Terem't, QaLvoay. 1840. Beligions, 80.
Poor-Schools, Select Day-School, Magdalen A^lum, Widow and (>^
plian Afiylums, Visitation of the Sick, Hospitals, Prisons, &c. Pupils, 600.
8t.Ji)hn's,Birr. 1840. Religious, 25.
Poor-Schools. Pupils, 500. Select Day-Schod, Visitation, &a. Or-
phanage.

8t. Marie't, BirmingJuim. 1841.

Pooi-iJchools, Select Day-School, House of Mercy, Visitation of the Siok,
Prisons, Hospitals, && Pupils, about 600. Religious, 80.

"■'l-""'^:i/'" ''-':. R. L P.

OBITUARY.

DuUin Bister Caroline Murphy.

" S. Aloysia O'Grady

• •t«*«*«» «

»•••«• ••• •

8. M. Elizabeth Harley. . .
S. M. Teresa McAuley. . . .

" S. M. Mechtildcs Gaffiioy. .

" S. M. Agnes Manuion

" S. Veronica Carrigan

" S.M. RoseLubfi

" S.M. Aloysia Thorpe

" S. M. Agnes MoAuley

" S.M. deChantalMcCann.

'' 8. M. Ctertrude Jones

CarJoie S. Catherine CofJby

Cork S. M. Francis Maliony. . . .,

Dublin S. M. Francis Marmion.. . .

Limerick 8. M. Teresa Potter

Oalaay 8. Mary Burke

Bermondtc-J

June 28, 1881.
Feb. 8, 1883.
April 25, 1883.
Nov. 11, 1888.
June 14, 1885.
Feb. 10, 1886
Feb. 9,1887.
Mar. 11, 1837.
June 80, 1837
Aug. 7, 1887.
Oct. 27, 1837.
May 9, 1889.

March 8, 1840

" 10, "

" 20, "

June 11, "

Nov. 1, "

8. M. Ursula O'Connor

" 8. M. Scholastica Boroughs " 5, "

DimuK Thb FoxntDREBB, Rev. Momsn

MABTCATHEUINEMcAUIiET. NoV. 11,1841

S. M. Justina Fleming Deo. 10, "

8. Agatha Brenn&n " 27, "

496

APPENDIX.

s »

Dublin

GarlotD

Cork

TuUamore

limerick

Wexford.... «..

Birr

Carlow

Oalway

• •••••• I

LiPierick

KiUarney

Wexford

ZhMin

Perth

Pitttburgh,Pa..
Chicago, lU....

Dublin

Birmingham . .

KUlarrxy

Bermondaey . . .
«

Wettport

Wec^'^rd

Oork

Birr

Mailou)

Cork

KiUarney

Wexford

Pitt^urgh, Pa..
Bermondiey...

• « • I

• • « <

TtMamore

Cork

S. M. Monica Murphy Maj 26, 1842.

S. M. Xavier Peppard Dec. 25, "

S. M. Fn-nces Prendergast June 29, 1848.

S. M. Josephine Tereea areen.. . Sept. 11, "

S. M, Aloysia Griffin Dec. 27, "

S. M. Gertrdde Heddennan April 3, 1844.

S. M. Josephine Walsh "14, "

K. M. M. Aloysia Scott May 81, "

S. M. Vincent Kenny Feb. 6, 1845.

S. M. Magdalen Blake March 8, "

S. M. Aloysia Deverell " 7, "

S.M. Teresa Bolls May 14, "

S. M. Joseph Tobin Sept. 26, "

S. Brigid Hackett Nov. 14, "

S. M. Camillus Butler Dec. 81, "

S. M. De Chantal Markey Jan. 9,1849.

S. M. Catherine Qogajty July 80, "

S. M. Aloysius Strange " "

S. M. Gertrude Maguire Dec., 10, "

S. M. Josephine Corbett " "

S. M. Qare Corbett Oct. 19, "

S. M. Cecilia Edwards. Jan. 18, 1847.

S.M. Baptist O'Grady Feb. 15, "

S. M. Frances Good April 2. "

S. M. Frances FaUon " 17, "

S. M. Angela Smyth May 9, "

S. M. Aloyria Redmond " H, "

S. M. Gertrude Hogan " 9, "

S. M. Clare McEvoy " " "

S. M. Xavier Creagh June 26, "

S. M. Aloysia O'Connor July 1 , "

S. M. Teresa Griffin " 25, "

S. M. Gertrude WUson Aug. 17, "

, S. M. Augustine McDonnell Sept. 8, "

S. M. Aloysia Byan " 16, "

, S. M. Gertrude Kinsella Oct. 27, "

, 8. M, Frances Jonee " 28, "

S. M. Anastaaia McGauley Dec. 29, "

, S. M. Catherine Caley Jan. 26,1848

. S. M. Catherine Corcoran May 12, "

. S. M. Joseph Cuddon June 5, "

, S. M. Gertrude Barnwell July 12, "

, M. M. Teresa Wlldridge Sept. 14, "

May 26, 1842.
Dec. 25, "
June 29, 1848.
Sept. 11, "
Dec. 27. "
April 3, 1844.

" 14, "
May 81, "
Feb. 6, 1845.
March 8, "
" 7, "
May 14, "
Sept. 26. "
Nov. 14, "
, Dec. 81, "
Jan. 9,1849.
July 80, "

Quein*f Square, London. S,

Limmek S.

Bermondsey S.

Limerick S.

PUtiburgli, Pa S.

Carlou) S.

J)Min R.

OalvMy ; S.

" S.

KiUamey S.

DiMiH S.

Liverpool R,

Killamey. S.

Dublin S.

" H

.••■..•••■a ••■ C

" S.

Limerick S.

Wolverhampton R.

Limerick S.

" S.

Dublin S.

KUlarney S.

Tuam S.

KiUamey B.

Carlow R.

Dublin S.

Sirr. S.

Liverpool. S.

Naas S.

Queen's Square, London, S.
Pittsburgh, Pa., U.8... M.

Bermondsey S.

Pitti^urgh, Pa R.

Chicago, III S.

Castletown, Bere R.

Cork 8.

Nottingfiam S.

Bermondsey S.

NottingjMm B.

Kinsale S.

DiMn B.

APPENDIX. 497

, M. Vincent Talbot Oct. 7, 1848.

M. Joseph Clinton Nov. 6, "

M. De Sales Eyre April 13, 1849.

M. Philomeno Potter " 19, "

M. Austin Goold

M. Philomene Reid

M. Austin Me^re Sept 14, "

M. Cecilia Marmion " "

Agnes Smith May 10, "

M. Joseph Joyce " 19, "

M. Agnes Rice Jane 5, "

AnnaKeUy July 25, "

, M. M. De Sales White Oct. 5, "

.{.'eresa Ryan " 21, "

M. Agnes Dennehy April 28, 1850.

M. Aloysius Stocker May 16, "

M. De Sales Dillon June 10, "

M. Xavier Barry " 24, "

M. M. Austin Cuddon July 22, "

M. Ignatia O'Brien " 27, "

M. Aloysia Pearson Oct. 6, "

M. Rose Fox " 19, "

M. Ignatius Flanagan Nov. 29, "

Brigid Heffernan Dec. 29, "

M. Gabriel Lynch Feb. 15,1851.

M. De Sales O'Reardon Mar. 16, "

M. M. Catherine Meagher. . . May 8, "

Veronica Duggan " 16, "

M. DePazziCoUier Oct. 26, "

M. Vhicent Gibson " 27, "

M. Cecilia Kenny Nov. 8, "

M. Stanislaus Tatchill Feb. 22, 1852.

, M. Xavier Tieman " " "

M. Catherine Beste Mar. 10, "

M. Mary Joseph Cullen April 21, "

M. Josephine Kinsella " " "

M. Agnes Carroll " 80, "

M. Cecila Xavier Lynch May 5, "

M. Stanislaus Vavasour Juno 3, "

M. Patricia Baxter Nov. 18, "

M. Joseph Perry " " "

M. Magdalen Murray " 20, "

M. Do Sales De Burgh Dec. 28 "

21*

''W^i^y■sp'^m^^^'■ '■

498

APPENDIX.

jMerpo<A

TuUamore ...

Kintak

WettpoH

Bermondtey..
TuUamore ...

Cvrk

Birr.

Limerick

Wexford

Londonderry

Tuam

Limerick

Wettport

Killamey . . .

Oakoay

Ttiam

Cork

GaltMy

8ligo

Boteommon..

«f

18,

28,1864

80.

17,

18.

25,

14.

Belfaa

Chicago, III..

Bligo

Limenck ..••••••

Liverpool

£e%

Limerick

KUlarney

Birr

MarywOe, Staffordehire

Weslport

Jfaaa

Providence, B. I. .

Birr

At the Crimea

Oarlov)

Derry

QaliDay

S.M. Clare Cropper Feb, 5.18S8.

S. M. Teresa Jowph Ryan " 14, "

S. M. Paula Murphy Mar. 17, «

S. M. Catherine CoBtello " 22, "

S. M. Xavier Grimmer " 25, •'

B.M. Teresa PurceU " 28, "

e. M. Gonzaga Murphy " " "

S. M. Catherine Scott May 8, "

S. M. Jane O'Brien Jane 24, "

S. M. Alphonsa Boche July 25, "

S. M. Baptist O'Brien Aug. 1, "

S. M. Monica Dowal "

S. M. Brigid Davis. Oct.

S. M. AloysiuB Costello "

S.M. Clare Bice Jan.

S. M. Joseph Macklin "

8. M. Magdalesi Maher Feb.

S. M. Xavier Hegarty "

S. M. Clare O'Malley "

S. M. Clare Nolan Mar.

S. M. Aloysia Kilbride May

M. M. Joseph Byan " "

S. M. Augustine Welby June 28,

B. M. Agatha O'Brien, July 8,

S. M. Bernard Hughes " "

S. M. Louisa O'Connor " "

S. M. Veronica Hickey " "

B, M, De Sales McDonnell "

S. M. Loyola Grant "

S. Martha O'Connell Dec.

S. M. Joseph Maginn Jan.

B. M. Gonzaga Denham "

S. Veronica CuBsen "

S. M. Joseph Heenan Mar.

I. M. M. of the Cross Hardman "

8. M. Augustine Higgins April 7,

S, M. Joseph Aloyria White. ... "

S. M. De Bales KeUy

B. M. Aloysia CTeary June

S. M. Winefrid Spry Oct,

B, M. M. Josephine Cullen Jan,

S. M. Agatha AlweU Feb.

B. M, Elizabeth Bowe "

18.

28,

81,

18,1856.

28,

(«

29,

15,

«<

20,

» »,tW> <| » ll » 5- Al»l |' l<l l' H

. . . . Feb.

5,18S8.

14. "

Mar.

17. «

22, "

25, •'

• • • •

28, "

« «

. ... May

8. "

.... Jane 24, «

.... July

26, "

Aug.

1. •*

4. "

. ... Oct.

9, "

18, "

.... Jan.

28,1864

80. '•

.... Feb.

4, «

17, "

18, «

.... Mar.

25, «

.... May

14, «

« M

.... June 28, "

.... July

8, «

<l f€

M »

« «

18, "

28, "

Dec.

81, "

Jan.

18,1866.

•f

28, "

29, "

Mar

9. "

tt. . . . "

16, «

April 7, "

e. . . . "

9, "

June 2, ••

Oct.

20. "

Jan.

6, «

Feb

1. -

20, "

)••••••••••

PaUKUna.,

KeU$

Drogheda.. .
TuUamore..

Birr

Cork

Chicago, lU.

Tuatn

Nouu.

Derby

Limerick

Kintale

Hartford, Conn.. .
Providence, S. I. .

Ifaae

TuUamore

Qalway

NeweasUe^n-l^ine

Nottingfiam

Limerick

CharleviUe.

Limerick

Dundalk

Qlasgow

SanPraruiKO....

BaUinadoe

Alton

Sunderland

Dublin

TuUamore

Cork

Ccuilebar

KiUamey

Chicago, lU

Hartford, Oonn. . .

Chicago, 111

Oalteay

TuUamore

Birmingham

AtUone

APPEITDIX. 499

8. M. Elizabeth Butler Feb.

B. M. Agnes Donnelly Mar.

S. M. Joseph Flynn May

S. M. Elizabeth Joseph Doey "

S. M. Aloysia CarroU. Aug.

S. M. Antonia Frendergast "

R.M. Paula Ruth. "

S. M. Borpa Hohn "

B. M. Lucy Donovan "

B. M. Mary Alphonae Ryan Sept.

B. M. Xavier Mathews "

S. M. Vincent Regan "

M. M. Jostina Eane Oct.

B. M. CamilluB De la Hide Jan.

M. M. CamiUuB O'NeU Not.

M.M. Gertrude Bradley "

R. M. M. Angela Kenny Jan.

5. M. Stanislaus Joseph Dunne. . Feb.

B. M. Alphonsus Duffy April

B. M. Vincent Evans May

R. M. Aloysia Percy "

Sister Anne Hewitt "

6. M. Vincent Ball June

S. M. Aquin McCormac "

S. M. Aloysia O'SulUvan July

B.Mary Kenny "

M. M. De Sales Redden "

S.M. Francis Farley "

S. M. Joseph Healy Aug.

B. M. Anne Smith "

S. M. CecQia Caasidy "

S. M. Catherine Mooney Sept.

S. M. Rose Doherty Oct.

S. M. Teresa Lynch "

S. M. Joseph Bridgnum "

S. M. Frances WaU

S. M. TeresaMurray Nov. 11, "

S. M. Martha Hennesy

S. M. Gabriel Fitzgihbons

S. M. Aloysia Walsh Deo. 10, "

S. M. Austin Lystor " 12, "

S. M. Aloysia Mossell " 10. "

B. M. Vincent Lysaght Feb. 1, 1868.

23,1856.

14,

10.

14,

23,

80.

2,1886.

12,

10.

4, 1857.

20,1856.

21.

6,1867

19,

22,

17,

«.

18,

18.

19.

28.

28,

89,

31,

14,

18,

11.

14.

500

A1»PEND1X.

Oarhw

Kellt

Cariou)

ProtidenM, B. I.

Queenitown

OaliBay

Fermente

Dublin

Cork

TuUamore

Wettport

Navan

Berry

AthlOTM

Limerick

Pittsburgh, Perm.

Charkville

Limerick

TuUamore

Cork

Londonderry. . . .

EUamey

Birmingham ....

Ifewport,B.I... .

Providence, B. I.
(f (I

Hull, Yorkshire..
Sligo

New York

Kinsale

Oalway

Killarney

Tuam

Newfoundland . .

BaUina

Glasgow

Ballina

New York

Mallow

CharlevUle

Boieommon

S. M. Ignatia Behan Feb. 28. 1S58L

S. M. Ignatius Leahy Mar. 29, "

S. M. AugusUne Midhall April 25, "

S. M. Teresa Kavanagh " 25, "

S. M. Josephine Hearn May 1, "

S. M. Francis Corrigan " 13, "

B. M. M. Bernard Kirwan " 13, "

S. M. Oenevieve Jarmin Julj 19, "

S. M. Paula Rice Aug. 8, "

S. M. EvangeliBliWyse " 8, "

B. M. Juliana Haran " 18, "

S. M. Agnes Corbett Sept. 16, "

8. M. Joeeph Morgan Oct. 13, "

S. M. Aloysia Wheeler " 13, "

S. M. Joseph Naish : Nov. 12, "

S. M. Assisinm Pearson " 80, "

S. M. Gonzaga O'Gormaii

S. M. Clare Lalor Dec. 29, "

S. Mary Shonahan Jan. 5, 1859L

S. M. Ignatius 0'B<\ffer Feb. 1, "

S.M.Agne^Daly March 1, '«

S. M. Stanislaus Griffiths " 6, "

S. M. Evangelist Manning May 2, "

S.Mary Yates Sept. 1, "

S. M. Aloysius Fitzpatrick

S. M. Louisa CurOn " 11, "

S. M. Ursula Wright " 21, "

S. M. Catherine Dixon Oct. 16, "

S. M. Joseph Sweeney " 81, "

S. M. Bernard Walker Nov. 19, "

B. M. M. Agnes O'Connor Dec. 20, "

S. M. CamilluB Brahan Feb. 19, 1860

S. M. Xavier Bourke Mar. 19, "

S. M. Agnes O'Shea. " 20, "

S. M. Bernard Fox April 7, "

S. M. Camillus CanoU " 13, "

S. M. Paula Brennan " 27, "

S. M. Evangelista Rigg May 15, '^

S. M. Agnes Merrick June 14, "

M. M. Stanislaus Wiley " 14, "

S. M. Aloysia Dwyer " 18, "

S. M. XovierNagle " 28, "

S. M. Patricia Oalwey Aug. 28, "

. Feb. 28. 1S68L

. Mar. 29, "

. April 25, "

. " 25, "

. May 1, "

. " 13. "

. July 19, «

. Aug. 8, "

. " 3, "

. " 18. "

. Sept. 16, "

, Oct. 13. "

.. " 13. "

. Nov. 12, "

,. •' 30. "

.. Dec. 29, "
, . Jan. 6. 185a

.. Feb. 1, "

. . March 1, "

"6, "

. . May 2, "

. . Sept 1, "

.. " 11, "
.. " 21, "
.. Oct. 16, "
.. " 81, "
. , Not. 19, "
..Dec. 20, "
. . Feb. 19, 1860
, . . Mar. 19, "
... " 20. "
. . April 7. "
... " 18, "
... " 27. "
..May 15. *'
. . . June 14, "
... " 14, "
... " 18. "
... " 28, "
... Aug. 28, "

APPENDIX.

601

.Birr

Drogheda,

Liverpool.. ,..i... ,

Chicago, Iff. ,

Baltimore, Md.

Wexford

KiUarney S. M. Bernard Bynte Aug. 23.1860.

Nenagh S. Mary Weir " 80. "

Tuam...T, S. Agatha Breene Sept. 30. "

Liverpool 8. M. Cecilia Morgan Oct. 8. "

Loughrea S. M. Agnes Joseph Blake " 21, "

Queengtoum, B.M. M, Joaophine McCarthy... I^. 29. "

S. M. (Sonzaga Coleman Nov. 15, "

R. M. M. Vincent Egan Dec. 27. "

S. M. Igr^tisOarolan " 80, "

S. '... EvangcliBt Smith Jan. 8, 1831

S. M. Bonaventura Mahony

S. M. Regina Browne

S. M. Tere« Cullen Feb. 25. "

" M. M. Elizabeth Cumminga March4, "

i^igo S. M. Aloysia Macdonald Sept. 14. "

Swinford S. M. Gabriel Dooley. Oct. 8, "

New York. S. M. Xavier Stuart

M.M. Paula Lenahan

Mlamey S. M. Aquin Waleh Oct.

Birmingham S. Mary of the Cross Hardman... "

Brooklyn, N.7. S. M. Joseph Shine

" " S. M.Frances McKenna

Oineinnati,0. S. M. Xavier Scully Dec.

Abii.ydon S. M. De Sales Payne «

Mnsak S. M. Xavier O'Dwyer Jan.

Olasgow S. M. Vincent Rigg Feb.

East Road, London S. M. Bridget Oreen "

Brooklyn S. M. Agnes Rooney

Mdnchetter, 2f.H. S. Regina Sheady

" S. M. De Sales Jennings '

Bantry, Cork S. M. Joseph Xavier Murphy. ... "

CastMmr , S. M. De Sales Heney March28.

Limerick S. M. Josephine Malcahy May 6.

Jhtblin M. M. Austin Bourke

Roaeommon R. M. M. Xaveria Irwin June

Nm York...... S. M. Borgia Coleman

" S. M. Ignatius Murray

limerick S. Zita Ryan July

Sligo.. S. M. Vincent Leonard Aug.

Bwinfo'id. S. M. Stanislaus Dooley "

" S. M. Rose McQill

PUt^wgh S. M. Regis Dowling

if(M» S. M. Ignatius O'Hamlon Sept.

21,

25,

15,

19,

1863

12,

16,

29,
29.

25,

502

APPENDIX.

New York

Baltimore, Md.

New Tork

Natan .^,

JDrogheda

Map^hetter, N. H.

Dundee

Bdlina,

Jhtngarvan

BanJP)^anei»eo

Tralee

Brooklyn, N. T.

Buenoe Ayret

New Zealand

Little Boek, Ark

Tralee

Cork

Ohartenlle

Umeriek,

Maneheiter

NeweaeUe-iny-Tyne

Wolverhampton

Providenee, B.l.

Boeheiter, 2t. T.

Maneheeter

Bligo.

NewBoes.

BnniikiUen

Oa/iicw

CharUmOe

Dublin

Newry

Cincinnati.

Fiwbury Squ'e, Londmi.

Maneheeter

Boieommon

Bt,Louii,Mo

8. ZiU Mullen Oct. 81,1862.

S. M. Magdalen Momy

S. M. Anna Ck>nnor.

B. M. Catherine Wy .no Nov., 1861.

8. M. Bernard Steele

8.M. StenialaoB Ryan

8. M. Angela Hilliard Sept. 10, 1863.

8. M. Clara O'Shea. Oct. 80, "

S. M. Baptist Finnegan. Nov. 4, "

8. M. Gabriel Flood " 6, "

8. M. Catherine Slattery " 28,

M.M.JaeephStanialaaa Preston. " 89, "
8. M. Augustine Joseph O'Deil.. " " "

8. M. Xavier Fitzgerald Dec. 8, "

M. M. Paula Beechenor , " " "

8. M. di Pazzi O'Connor Feb. 20, 1868.

S. M. Teresa Wissen

8. M. Dominica Nagle

S.M. Xavier Franklin

S. M. Alo/sius ]F1tzpatrick

8. M. Joseph Stack Feb. 20, "

8. M. Joseph O'Farrell " " "

8. M. Baptist Eeatinge March 25, "

8. Clara Crotty May 15, "

8. M. De Sales Leeoon June 20, "

M. M. I ptist Geragty May 80, "

8. M. Agnes Robinson Aug. 11, "

8. M. Joeephino Lombard " 81, "

8. M. De Sale McCalUon Jan. 80, 1864.

Sister M. Evangelist Markane.. . June, 4, 1864.

M. M. Philomene Edwards. Aug. 14, "

8. ColnmbaMee " 21,1863.

It« M. Frances O'Farrell Sept. 27, "

8. M. Pauline Hogan. Oct. 5, "

8. M. Agathik Roche Nov. 8, "

M. M. Ane^ela Dunne " 12, "

8. M. Magdalen O'Flynn

R. M. Catherine O'Connor Deo. 10.

8. M. Angela Keiiiy " 28, "

Sister Martha Sinnctt " 29, "

8. M. Qertmde Qleet>Y>n Feb., 1864.

R. M.Vincent Hartneit " "

Sister Martha CnmmLigs Aug. 10, "

. Oct.

81. 1862.

. Nov..

1861.

.. Sept.

10, 1863.

.. Oct.

80, "

. Nov.

4, "

6. "

28. "

jn. "

m "

I.. "

u ■ f

.. Dec

8. "

« ««

... Feb.20,18«8.

^ »uk)MO«lfaiib*«rtMMHP

APPENDIX.

508

8t. Loait, Mo.
CMeago

S. M. Angnfltine Davenport Sept. 4, 186S.

S. M. Tliocla Qrattan Oct. 10. «

Nora.— The tbor* oUtoary U not by »ny meant complete, and a few of the name* and
dates an mtspUoed ; bat aa thla error la not uf much Imporlanoe^ it ia unncceaeary to '-^t
the traable of raetUyioK it, wbleh weald b« no taiy matter.

CONTENTS OF MERCY FOUNDED DP TO THE YEAR 1868.

IRELAND.

nirXDATIOX. OOmmi,™. HUAtl

1827. St. Catherine's. Dublin

1834. St. Patrick's, Kingstown. B* DiMin.

1886. St. Joseph's. TuUamore ••

" St. Joseph's, Charleville -

1837. St Leo's, Carlow «

St. Marie's of the Isle, Cork "

1888. St. Anne's, Booterstown, B "

!• St. Maiy's, Limerick «

1839. St. Maiy'H. Naas OarUno.

1840. St. Teresa's, Galway JhibUn.

St. Michaer8,Wexfoid Oariow.

St.John'8, Biir. 2)«N»».

1842. Mount St. Mary's, Westport CarUno.

1844. St. Ck)lumba'B, Kells TuOamare.

St. Joseph's, Kinsale Limerick.

" The Holy Cross, Killamey «

1845. The Magdalen A^lum, Galway, B Oulvmy.

" St. Patrick's, Mallow Limeriek.

1846. St. Peter's, Tnam Cavhw.

" St. Patrick's, SUgo WettpoH.

1847. St. Malachy's, Dundalk DMin.

1848. St. Peter's, Londonderry Tullanwn.

1850. Our Lady of Mercy, Tipperary Oorh.

" Our Lady of Mercy, Doone «

" St. Mary's, Queenstown «

•The ennvenu markod »B" ara branch houaet, sapplled from tb* chief booM of tb«
41oc«aa IB wUch they are looated.

604

AFPEKDIX.

1850. St. Raphael's, Lougliroa Dublin.

" Mount St. Vincent, Limerick, B Limeriek.

" St. Catherine's, Newcastle, B "

' St.Anne's, Rathkcale, B

" St. Teresa's, Cappoquin Wt^ord.

1851. St Joseph's, Ballinrobe Wettport.

" Asylum for Widows and Orphans, Galway, B. .Galway.

All HaUow's, BalUna migo.

1852. St. Michael's, Atliy Dublin.

1853. St. Joseph's, Navan KOU,

" St. Angela's, Castlebar Oalitay.

" St. Qabriel's, Ballinasloe Loughred.

" Immaculate Ck>nception, Roscommon Limeriek.

1854. St. Paul's, Belfast DviUn.

" Our Lady's Abbey, Adaie, B Limerick.

" St. Xavier's, EnniB "

" St. Mary's, Nenagh.B Birr.

" St. Paul's Hospital, Jerris-street, B Dublin.

" St. John Baptist's, Tralee KiUarMy

" St Joseph's, New Raw Wexford.

" St. Mary's, Drogheda TvUamore.

" St Oabriel's, Dungarvan, B Cappogvin.

1865. St. Vincent's Reformatory, Qolden Bridge, B. . .Dublin.
" St Mary's of the Cross, Kilruah Birr.

" St. Liguori's, Swinford Tuam.

" St Agne's, Castletown Bere "

" Meet Sacred Heart, Newry Kiniale.

1866. Immaculate Heart of Mary, Clonakilty "

" Immaculate Conception, Enniskillen 8Ngo.

1857. The Annunciation, Athlone Soteommon.

" St. Patrick's, G ort Carlow.

Our Lady of Mercy 'e Hospital, Cork, B Cork.

1858. StMary's, Ardee DunddOe.

" Immaculate Conception, Ennisoorthy Weaford.

" St. Joseph's, Passage Cork.

" St. Co.therine's, Dundee Londonderry.

1860. Immaculate Conception, Skibbereen Kinsale.

" Our Lady of Mercy, Outerard. OcUway.

" The Most Holy Trinity, Bantry Cork.

" St Patrick's, Downpatrick Belfcut.

1861. St Joseph's, Longford Dublin.

" St Oamillus' Workhouse Hospital, Limerick, B-Limeritk.

, .Dublin.
. .lAmeriek.

....Wtxford.

yfeOpvrt.

B..Galuiay.
. . . .8ligo.

IhMin.

. . . .KeO*.

Oalieay.

Laughred.

Limerick.

Dvblin.

Uneriek.

Birr.

IhMin.

KiUarMH

Wexforii.

, TuUamore.

Cappoguin.

, B...J>«Nin.

Birr.

Tuam.

Kinsale.

Sligo.

Boscommon.

, Carlou).

Cork.

Dundalk.

Weaford.

Cork.

Londonderr)/.

EAMole.

OtUtBay.

Cork.

Bdfait.

DubUn.

erick, B-Limeriek.

APPENDIX.

505

OATI OV OOKVUin. ' ?njAT»D MOM.

(OUMDATIOH.

1861. Mount Cannel, Moate Kells.

1862. St. Bridget's, Clara TuUamore.

Immaculate Conception, Rochford Bridge "

The Magdalen Aeylum, Westport, B We»tjmt.

•' Our Lady of Mercy, Moville Londondtrry.

St. Mary's, Templemore Cork.

■ " The Mercy Hospital, Ballinrohe, B BaUinrohe.

" Our Lady of Mercy, Macroom Queenstown.

•' Our Lady of Mercy, Cahir Oork.

" Mater Misericordice, Hospital, Ecdes-Btiteet, B . . 2?ttWtn.

" Our Lady of Mercy, Elphin Boscommon.

" '• " Banlimore, Antrim Belfast.

« " " Rosstreror A'eiery.

■■■'--'■ ENGLAND.

1830. Our Lady of Mercy, Bermondsey Cork.

1841. St. Marie's, Birmingham Dublin.

1843. St. Ethelburga's, Liverpool "

" Our Lady of Mercy, Sunderland Cork.

1844. Our Lady's, Nottingham Birmingham.

" St. Edward's, Blandford Square, London Dvblin.

1845. St. Joseph's, Cheadle Cartow.

1846. Our Lady of Mercy, Bristol Bermondsey.

1847. St. Anne's, Staffordshire Birmingham.

1849. St. Marie's, Wolverhampton "

" St. Augustine's, Cheadle, B Oarlow.

BilBton "

Our Lady oi Mercy, Qlossop, B Nottingham.

" St. Joseph's, Derby Kinsale.

1850. St. Oswald's, Lancashire Liverpool.

1852. St. Mary's Vale, Oscott Birmingham.

" St. Joseph's, Brighton Bermondsey.

1853. St. Walburga's, Lancaster Liverpool

1855. St. John Baptist's, Alton Cheadle.

" St'. Bede's, Newca8tleK)n-Tyne Liverpool.

" Immaculate Conception, Clifden Oalieay.

1856. St. Elizabeth's Hospital, Qt. Ormond-st., .London . Bermondsey.

1857. St. Mary's, Belper, B Derby.

" Immaculate Conception, HuU Dublin.

" Our Lady of lia Salette, Wigton Bermondsey.

St. Cuthbert, Wigton

1858. Immaculate Conception, Finsbury-sq., London . . We3;ford.

j-ift—Mr

506 APPENDIX.

BATB OF OOSTENTS. HUATED rMM

1858. St. Mary's, Hexham Sunderland.

1859. Immaculate Conception, East Road, London. . . . TvUamore.
St. Aufltin'8, Darlington Sunderland.

" St. Vincent's, Lancashire, B Uterpool.

1860. St. John's, Nottinghamshire Nottingham.

SS. Mary and Oswin, North Shields Newcaslleron- T.

Our Lady of Mercy, Abingdon Bei-mondney.

" St. Joseph's, Qravesend

St. Godric's, Durham Sunderland.

1861. St. Oswald's, Worcester BdfatA.

St. Monica's, Skipton Uwrpod:

1862. Our Lady of Mercy, Coventry Ohel%ea.

„ u «« Willburne Dundee.

u « .1 Mary vale, StulTordshire Binninghavi.

u .< '. Isle of Mau Liverpool.

.,.,..--,,.. SCOTLAND.

1849. St. Mary's, Glasgow Linwrick.

1868. St. Catherine's, Edinburgh • "

„ «« Dundee • . . .Londondmry,

a « Wilbom..

^, BRITISH AMERICA.

1843. St. John's, Nevrfbundland Dublin.

1857. Our Lady of Mercy, Edinboro', N. Brunswick . . . Umerick.

UNITED STATES.

1848. St. Mary's, Pittsburgh, Penn Oarlm.

1846. St. Xavier's, Latrobe, Penn., B Pittdfwrgh.

" Mercy Hospital, Pittsburgh, B

« St-Mar/s, Chicago, 111 "

St. Catherine's, New York Dublin.

1848. Our Lady of Men7,HolIday8burff. B PUtOurgh.

u « " Birmingham, Penn., B

« C " Loretto, Penn., B

H - " Alleghany, near PittBburgh,B. "
I860. " " Little Rock, Ark N'('<'*'

" St. Catherine's, Helena

1851. St. Xavier's, Providence, B. I PUtibv/rgh.

1853. St. Mary's, New Haven, Conn Providene*.

1854. St. Catherine's, Hartford Conn

nUATBD FIOM

. .Sunderland,

: . Tidlamore.

. .Sunderland.

. . Liverpool.

. .Nottingham.

. .Neuxoftle-on-T.

. .Bermondaey.
tt

. .Sundivland.
. .Belfast.

.Liverpool:

.Ohelsea.

.Dundee.
. Birmingham.
.Liverpool.

.Linierick.

.Londonderri/,
«

DtMin.

ick... Limerick.

Oarlow.

Pitttlmrgh.

DtMin.

PitttbuiyTL

irgh,B. "
2faa$.

Pittitmrgh.

Promdsne*,

AFFENPIX.

rcvMDATioir,

1864. St. Mary's, Newport, R. L ProtMenee.

Galena, B. (reUnqulahed, 1869) Ohicago, PI.

" Divine Providence, San Franciaco, Cal Kinsaie.

1866. St. Francis', Brooklyn Ifew York.

1860. St. Joseph's, St Louis, Mo

1867. St. Mary's, Rochester, N. T Prutidenee.

1858. The Divine Will, Cindnnati, O £inaale.

" St. Joseph's, BnfiUo Soehetter.

" Mount St. Mary's, Manchester, N. H ProvideTue.

1800. Mercy Hosi^tal, Washington, D. C PitUburgh.

1860. Inunacolate Conception, Baltimore, Md. "

" Our Lady of Mercy, Vicksburg, Miss BeUHmore.

» •• " Pawtuoket, B., R. I Providence.

1869. St. Joseph's, Ottawa, 111 OAieago.

1860. St. Augustine, Florida Providence.

" St. Mary's, Philadelphia BaHinrdbe, Ireland

1862. St Joseph's, Batavia, N. Y Bocheater.

" St Bernard's, Cranston, B. I Providence.

, ,' " Our Lady of Mercy, Golumbcs, Qa St. Auy Mne.

" The Orphan Asylum, Providence Providenee.

< St Mary's Hospital, Beaufort, S. G. (Relin-
quished after the late war.) '. New York.

- Our Lady of Mercy, Albany, N.T "

«• " " Worcester, Mass "

- " " Bangor, Maine Manehetter.

^ " The Orphan Asylum, Chicago Ghieago.

V ** Grass Valley, Cal., B Sati Frandteo.

" Sacramento, Cal., B "

1860. Mercy Hospital, Chicago, 111 Chicago.

1803, Staten Island, N. Y New York.

" FortSmith,Ark Little Boek.

•■ St Bernard's, Nashville Providf^xce.

OOEAKICA.

1846. The Holy Cross, Perth, Anstralia Dublin.

1848. Our Lady of Mercy, Guildford, Australia Perth.

" " " Freemantle, " "

1849. St. Patrick's, New Zealand .Oarlow.

1866. StAnne's,B. " . .Anetdand, N^Z.

1850. St. Patrick's, Goul bourne, Australia Weriport.

" Most Sacred Heart, Geclong, " Dublin,

1800. Our Lady of Mercy, Brisbane, " "

mmm

508 APPENDIX.

rOUHSAlXOS*

1880. Oar Lady of MeT<7, QneenfOand, Anfltralia JhOlia.

- " " Melboome, " "

SOUTH AMBEICA.

1856. Baenos Ayres, St. Joseph's JDttKftl.

186». " OurLadyofMeroy.B "

TBMPOBARY ESTABLISHMENTS.

1854. Hospital, Constantinople, Turkey.

" " Scutari, Turkey in Ada.

" " Kulilee, "

" " BaLOdava, Rusdn.

These hoxises wore supplied ftwrn Dublin, Cork, London, Liverpool,
etc. They were relinquished on the cessation of the Crimean war, 1856.

SUMMARY.

Convents of Merqr founded in Irdandupto 1862 TO

" " " inEngland " " *1

" « « inSootland " " 4

- u u in United states " 48

« " " in British America 2

" M « in South America 2

« « « In Australia 9

" « « inNewZealand 8

188

Number since founded In various places 20

Temporary establishments. ,

Total 212

Since the above was written, le r.,(ier of Mercy has been introduced
Into other parts of South America and Australia, into Tasmania, the Isle
of Wight, the Isle of Man, etc.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

:, London, Liverpool,
a Crimean vm, 1850.

Thb Life of Cathbrihb McAdlet, Foundress and first Superior of the
Religious Sisters of Mercy. By a Sister of Mercy.

By the Same. A Treatisb on thk Knowledob and Love ob' oub
LoBD Jesub Chbist. Translated from the French of Eev. J. B. Saint
Jure, S. J. (6 vols, in 8.)

in.

The REUoiors ; A Treatise on the Vows and Virtues of the Religious
State. Transkted from the French of Rev. J. B. Saint Jure, S. J.
(4 vols, in 2.)

rv.

L'lIoMME Spdutcel; The Spiritual Life Reduced to its Principles*
Translated from the French of Rev. J. B. Saint Jure, S. J. (3 vols, in 1.)

Thb Lint of Blbsskd MinoiiiKT Mart, a Religious of the Visitation
Order, including a History of that Order, and a HUtory of the Devotion
to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Translated from the French of Rev. Oh.
Daniel, S. J. With an Introduction.

VI.
Happt Houns or CBnj>HooD : A Series of Pious Storie* of the Young.

■ a*iS*S;iS*fiStfei««iaS^^ "..■".-.■-.