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AWFUL DISCLOSURES OF I I ^arratint nf litr Infferings, DVBINO A llBSIDKNCa OP FIVE YEARS AS A NOVICE AND TWO YEARS AS A BLACK NUN, Sn % Infel te fcntrif, at Iftnittml ; \ TO WHICH 18 ADDED, CONFIRMATORY NOTES AND AFFIDAYITS, FACTS OP THE PRESENT DAY, JitmmB nf Mm Wnxh, WHSRBBT MARIA MONK'S DISCLOSURES ARE MOST FULLY PROVED; AND THE HIDEOUS NATURE OF THE CONVENTUAL SYSTEM EXPOSED. 4 tnuhu: PUBLISHED BY HOULSTON & STONEMAN, PATERNOSTER ROW; G., J. & R. BANKS, 14, BERMONDSEY NEW ROAD. 1851. Hf< :,.U::iiiL- ' •*' ; .'*.« .? ■: '■ "'■;>*;; i<»*B .. , 4Si:^^-i V; i :c»>j., Wi ;/v/*i'^ji. jve ;tt.:-.: ^.■■ -ji'V:;.!, -...-I'f CONTENTS. iV^i '.J.:! i^ VAQB Chap. I. : Early recollections — Early Life— Religious Education neglected Eirst School — ^Entrance into the School of the Congregational Man- uery — Brief account of the Nunneries in Montreal— Public Respect for these Institutions— Instructions received— Catechism and Bioie . 3 I*/ Chap. II. : Congregational Nunnery— Story of a Priest, told by a fellow^ pupil— Other Stories— Pretty Mary — Confess to lather Jliohards— My subsequent Confession — Instruction in the Catechism . . f -' ^ Chap. III. : Black Nunnery — Preparations to become a Novice in the Black Nunnery— Entrance— Occupations of the Novices — Apartments to which thev have access— I^t Interview with Jane Ray— Rever- ence for the Superior— A wonderful Nun— Her Reliques— The Holy Shepherd or nameless Nun— Ccufession of Novices . Chap. IV. : Displeased with a Convent Life — Left it— Residence at St. Denis— Reuos— Marriage— Separation— Return to the Black |^un- nery— Objections made oy some Novices . . . . 14 Craf. Y. : Confirmation— Painful Peelings— Specimen of Instructions re- ceived on the subject . . . . . .20 • Chap. YI. : Taking the Veil— Subsequent interview with the Superior- Surprise and Honor at the Disclosures— Resolution to submit , 33 11 CONTENTS. Chap. VTl. : Daily Ceremonies — Jane Ray among the nuns rAOK CiTAP. VIII. : Description of the Apartments in the Blaek Nunnory in or- der—First Floor — Second Floor — Garret — The Founder— Superior's way of managing the friends of Novices — Religious Lies— Criminality of concealing sins at Confessions . . . . .33 (.'hap. TX. : Nuns with similar names — Squaw Nuns — First Visit to the Cellar — Description of it — Shocking Discovery there — Superior's in- structions — Private Signal of the Priests — Books used in the Nun- nery — Opinions expressed of the Bible — Specimens of what I knew of the Scriptures . . . . . 42 Chap. X. : Manufacture of Biead and Wax Candles carried on in the Convent— Superstitions — Scapularies — Virgin Mary's Pincushion — Her House — the Bishop's Power over Fire — My instruction to No- vices — Jane Ray — Vacillation of Feeling . . , f»«*«!«v . 50 i J. Chap. XI. ; Alarming Order from the Superior — Proceed to execute it — Scene in an upper room~ Sentence of Death and Murder — My own Distress — Reports made to Friends of St. Frances . . .5s ■m Chap. XII. •. Description of the Room of the Three States, and the Pic- tures in it — Jane Ray ridiculing Priests — Their criminal treatment of us at Confession — Jane Ray's tricks M'ith the Nun's aprons, handker- chiefs and night-gowns — .Vpplcs ..... fit Chap. XIII. : Jane Ray's Tricks continued — The Broomstick Ghost — Sleep Walking — Salted Cider — Changing Beds — Object of some of her Tricks — Feigned Humility — Alarm . . . 7i Chap. XIV. : Influencing Novices— DiflSculty of eonvincil% persons from the United States— 'falc of the Bishon in the City — The Bishop in the Convent— the Prisoners in the cells- Practice in Singing— Nnr- ratives- Jane Ray's Hymns— The Superior's best trick . . 92 vAf' 'i!} Chap. XV. : Frequency of the Priest's Visits to the Nunnery— Their Freedom and Crimes — J)ifficnlty of learning their names — Their holy Retreat^ — Objections in our minds — Means used to counteract con- scienoa— Ingenuous Arguments ..... 103 jJI^^^.'Vfr*. *V'Vfc'-''^ A< ■; CONTRNTW. lY PAUl Chap. XVI.: Treatment of young Infants in the Convent — Talking in sleep — Amusements — Ceremonies at the public Interment of deceased nuns — Sudden disappearance of the old Superior — Introduction of the new one — Superslition — Alarm of a Nun — Difficulty of Commu- nication with other Nuns ...... 109 Chap. XVII. : Disappearance of Nuns— St. Pierre — Gags — My temporary confmcment in a cell — The Cholera Season — How to avoid it — Occu- pations in the Convent during the Pestilence — Manufacture of Wax Candles — The Election Riots — Alarm among the Nuns — Preparations , for Defence — Penances . . . ... ,.,;,-.lw.--:;!t 122 :ti n»~r.z CifAP. XVIII. : The Punishment of the Cap — The Priests of the District of Montreal have free access to the Black Nunnery — Crimes com- mitted and required by them — The Pope's Comniana to commit in- decent Crimes — Characters of the Old and the New Superiors— The Timidity of the latter — I began to be employed in the Hospitals — Some Account of them — Wnming given me by a sick Nun— Penance by Hanging ........ 134 ("iiAP. XIX : More Visits to the Imprisoned Nuns —Their Fears — Others temporarily put into the Cells — Helics— The Agnus Dei — ^The Priests' Private Hospital, or Holy Retreat — Secret Rooms in the Eastern Wing — Reports of Murders in the Convent— The Superior's j)rivate Records — Number of nuns in the Conveiit— Desire to Escape — Urgent Reasons for it — Plan— Deliberation— Attempt— Success . 112 C/iiAP. XX. ; Maria Monk's Reception at New York— The Priests' deter- mined attempt to decoy lier from the Asylum there — Her various efforts to make a Disrlosure of her history— Some Fears of Death — Accouchement — Concluding Remarks .... 160 ■ ' ' . , i " ■•; '■'. I 'if' Appf:jdix .-'^"•'^ ..'i?;^'-'^ 4 . . . . ..153 -i**-'. t/M^^^ ' REVIEWS. Ike following excellent Works are reviewed in this book, and would form of themselves a very excellent *' Anti-Popish Library." They are all in print, we believe, and may be obtained of any bookseller. The London publishers' names are attached to each. " Hints to Romanisers." Published by Seeleys, Fleet-street. " Narrative of Escape from a Portugese Convent." Seeleys. " Lectures at the Beaumont Institution." By various ministers. Gorbell, Commercial Road, East. " The Desolations of Abominations," &c. By Edward Smith. Aylott ft Jones, Paternoster Row. " Dealings with the Inquisition, in the Nineteenth Century." By Dr. Achilli. Hall, Virtue ft Co., Paternoster Row. *' The Female Jesuit ; or the Spy in the Family." Partridge ft Oakey, Paternoster Row. "Tracts from the French of Napoleon Roussell ;" various. v: Ward & Co. » Paternoster Row. " Six Months in a Convent." By Rebecca Theresa Reed. Partridge & Oakey, Paternoster Row. " Progress of Beguilement to Romanism." By Miss E. Smith. Seeleys, Fleet Street. " Ellmer Castle ; a Roman Catholic Story of the Nineteenth Century." Houlston & Stoneman, Paternoster Row. t • 1 ■ . i ■■ / ■J ■t;.- r..>;-.r!'. ^i ;i;: PREFACE. ^<^,;>: •M It is hoped that the reader of the ensuing narrative will not suppose that it is a fiction, or that the scenes and persons that I have delineated had not a real existence. It is also desired that the author of thi^i volume may be regarded, not as a voluntary participator in the very guilty transactions which are described, but receive sympathy for the trials which she has endured, and the peculiar situation in which her past experience and escape from the power of the Superior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal, and the snares of the Roman priests in Canada have left her. My feelings are frequently distressed and agitated by the recollection of what I have passed through ; and by night and by day I have little peace of mind, and few periods of calm and pleasing reflection; futurity also appears uncertain. I know not what reception this little work may meet with, and what will be the effect of its publication here, or in Canada among strangers, friends, or enemies. I have given the world the truth, so far as I have gone, on subjects of which I am told they are generally ignorant ; and I feel perfect confidence that any facts which may yet be discovered will confirm my words, whenever they can be obtained. Whoever shall explore the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, at Montreal, will find unquestionable evidence that the descriptions of the interior of that edifice, given in this book were furnished by one familiar with them ; for whatever alterations may be attempted, there are changes which no mason or carpenter can make and effectually conceal; and therefore there must be plentiful evidence in that institution of the truth of my description. There are living witnesses, also, who ought to be made to speak without fear of penance, tortures, and death; and possibly their testimony, at some future time, may be added to confirm my statements. There are witnesses I should greatly rejoice to see at liberty, or rather there were. Are they living now? Or will they be No. 1 B »■ a VKEtACE. permitted to live after the priests and Superiors have seen this book ? Perhaps the wretched nuns in the cells have already suffered for my sake. Perhaps Jane Ray has been silenced for ever, or will be murdered before she has time to add her most important testimony to mine. But speedy death, in relation only to this world, can be no great calamity to those who lead the life of a nun. The mere recollection of it always makes me miserable. It would distress the reader should I repeat the dreams with which I am often terrified at night ; for I sometimes fancy myself pursued by my worst enemies; frequently I seem as if again shut up in the Convent ; often I imagine myself present at the repetition of the worst scenes that I havt hinted at, or described ; sometimes I stand by the secret place of interment in the cellar ; sometimes I think I can hear the nhrieks of helpless females in the hands of atrocious men ; and sometimes almost seem actually to look again upon the calm aad plaoid features of St. Frances, as she appeared when surrounded by her murderers. I cannot banish the scenes and characters ofthisbook firom my memory. To me it can never appear like an amusing fable, or lose its interest and importance. The story is one which is contin- ually before me, and must return fresh to my mind with painful emotions as long as I live. With time, and christian instruction, and the sympathy apd examples of the wise and good, I hope to learn submissively to bear whatever trials aire appointed for me, and to improve under them all. . U. Impressed as I continually am with the frightful reality of the painful communications that I have made in this volume, I can only offer to all persons who may doubt or disbelieve my statement, these two things : — Permit me to go through the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, at Montreal, with some impartial ladies and gentlemen, that they compare my account with the interior parts of that building, into which no person but the Roman bishops and priests are ever admitted ; and if they do not find my description true, then discard me as an imp^p|i|Hr— bring me before a court of justice, there I am willing to meet Latargue, Dufresne, Pbelan, Bonin, and Richards, and their wicked companions, with the superior, and any of the nuns, before a thousand men. . • ,, .. . „,*ir lii New York, Jan. 11,1836. MARIA MONK. ,■ V : ««'■ ..jtf^ »<♦. t- « ■„ r) AWFUL DISCLOSURES »Y MABIA MONK. (1 ■» ; i"ii ■! ;■• n- \ r- CHAPTER I . if- l.V EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. <-., ..'■(, .o ^ Early Life—Roligious Education neglected— First School — Entrance into the School of the Congreeational Nunnery— Brief Account oi the ,. Nunneries in Montreal— "Hie Congregational Nunnery— The Black Nunner]^ — The Grey Nunnery — PublicRespect for these Institutions— V • Instructions received— The Cathechism — ^The Bible. ".•••■, * * My parents were both from Scotland, but had been resident in Lower Canada some time before their marriage, which took place in Montreal ; and iu that city I have spent most of mv life. I was bom at St. John's, where they lived for a short time. My father was an officer under the British Government; and, my mother has enjoyed a pension on that account ever since his death. According to mv earliest recollections, he was attentive to his family, and had a particular passage in the Bible which often occurred to my mind in after life. I may very probably have beea-^ught by him, as after his death I do not recollect to have receivdd any religious instruction at home, and was not even brought up to read the Scriptures ; my mother, although noniinally a Protestant, not being accustomed to pay attention to her children, she was rather inclined to think well of the Catholics, and often attended their churches. To my want of religious instructions at home, and the ignorance of my creator, and my duty, which was, its natural efl^t, I think I can trace my introduction to Convent!, ^ and the scenes which I am to describe in the narrative. When about six o^ seven years of age, I went to school to a Mr. Work- ■'fMJ^ MARIA i^iONK. man, a Protestant, wlio taught in Sacrament Street, and remained several months. There I learned to read and write, and arithmetic, as far as division ; all the progress I ever made in those branches was gained in that school, as I have never improved in any of them since. A number of girls of my acquaintance went to school to the nuns of the congregational nunnery, or sisters of charity, (as they are sometimes called.) The schools, taught by them, are perhaps more numerous than some of my readers may imagine. Nuns are sent out from that Convent to many of the towns and vil- lages of Canada, to teach small schools ; and some of them are established as instructresses in different parts of the United States. When I was about ten years old, my mother asked me one day if I should not like to learn to read and write French ; and I then began to thiuk seriously of attending the school in the congre- gational Nunnery. I had already some acquaintance with that latiguage, sufficient to speak it a little, as 1 heard it every day, and my mother knew something of it. I have a distinct recollec- tion of my first entrance into the Nunnery, and the day was an important one in my life, as on it commenced my acquaintance with a Convent. T was conducted by some of my young friends along Notre-Dame Street till we reached the Gate. Entering that, we walked some distance along the side of a building to- wards a chapel, until we reached a door, stopped, and rung a bell. This was soon opened, and entering, we proceeded through a long covered passage, till we took a short turn to the left, soon after which, we reached the door of the school room. On my entrance, the Superior met me, and told me first of all, that 1 must always dip my fingers into the holy water at her door; cross myself; and say a short prayer : and this she told me was always required of Protestants, as well as Catholic children. There were about fifty girls in the school, and the nuns pro- fessed to teach something of reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography. The methods, however, were very imperfect, and little attention was devoted to them, the time being, in a great degree, engrossed with lessons in needle work, which was per- formed with much skill. The nuns had no very regular parts assigned them in the management of the schools. They were rather rough and unpolished in their manners, often exclaiming, " dest nn mcnti^'' (that's a lie ;'" and ''man Dieu" (my God,) on the most trivial occasions. Their writing was quite poor, and it was not uncommon for them to put a capital letter in the middle of a word. The only book of geography which we studied, was a catechism of geography, from which we learnt by heart a few questions and answers. We were sometimes referred to a map, but it was only to point out Montreal or Quebec, or some other promineut name, while we had not instruction beyond. ; •i MARIA MONK. O It may be necessary, for the information of some of my readers, to mention, there are three distinct Convents in Montreal, all of different kinds — that is, founded on different plans, and governed by different rules. Their names are as follows : 1st. The Congregational Nunnery. 2nd. The Black Nunnery, or Convent of Sister Bourgeoise. 3rd. I'he Grey Nunnery. The first of these professes to be devoted entirely to the education of girls. It would require, however, only a proper examination to prove that, with the exception of needle-work, hardly any thing is taught, excepting prayers and catechism ; the instruction in rbading, writing, &c., in fact, amounting to very little, and often to nothing. This convent is adjacent to that next to be spoken of, being sepa- rated from it only by a wall. The second professes to be a charitable institution, for the cure of the sick, and the supply of bread and medicines for the poor ; and something is done in these depart- ments of charity, although but an insignificant amount, compared with the size of the buildings, and the number of inmates. The grey Nunnery, which is situated in a distant part of the city, is also a large edifice, containing departments for the care of insane persons and foundlings. With this, however, I have less personal acquaintance than with either of the others. I have often seen two of the grey nuns, and know their rules as well as those of the congregational Nunnery. They do not confine them always within their walls, like those of the black Nunnery. These two Convents have their common names (black and grey) from the color of the dresses worn by their inmates. In all these three Convents there are certain apartments into which strangers can gain admittance ; but others, from which they are always excluded. In all, large quantities of various ornaments are made by the nuns, which are exposed for sale in the ornament rooms, and afford large pecuniary receipts every year, which contribute much to their incomes. In these rooms visitors often purchase such things as please them, from some of the old and confidential nuns who have the charge of them. ^ * From all that appears to the public eye, the nuns of these con- vents are devoted to the charitable object appropriate to each — the labour of making different articles known to be maimfactured by them, and the leligious observances, which occupy a large portion of their time. They are regarded with much respect by the people at large ; and, now and then, when a novice takes the veil, she is supposed _j^to retire from the temptations and troubles of this world into a ^ state of holy seclusion ; where, by prayer, self-mortification, and good deeds, she prepares herself for heaven. ijw..- ;,.,./ *>? b MARIA MONK. Sometimes the Superior of a Convent obtains the character of working miracles ; and when such a one dies, it is published throuehout the country, and crowds throng the Convent, who think indulgences are to be derived from bits of her clothes, and other things she has possessed ; and manv have sent articles to be touched to her bed, or chair, in which a decree of virtue is thought to remain. I used to participate in such ideas and feelings, and began by degrees to look upon a nun as the happiest of women ; and the Convent, as the most peaceful, holy, and delightful place of abode. It is true, some pains were taken to impress such views upon me. Some of the priests of the Seminary often visited the Congregational Nunnery, and both catechised and talked with us on religion. The Superior of the black Nunnery adjoin- ing, also, occasionally came into the school, and enlarged on the advantages we enjoyed in having such teachers, and dropped something now and then relating to her own Convent, calculated to make us entertain the highest ideas of it, and to make us some- times think of the possibility of getting into it. Among the in- structions given us by the priests, some of the most pointed were directed against the Protestant Bible. They often enlarged upon the evil tendency of that book ; and told us that but for it many a soul condemned to hell, and suffering eternal punishment, might have been in happiness. They could not say anything in its favour; for that would be speaking against religion and against God. They warned us against its woes, and represented it as a thing very dangerous to our souls. In confirmation of this, they would repeat some of the answers taught us at catechism, a few of which I will here give. We had little catechisms (" Les Petits Catechismes") put into our hands to study ; but the priests soon began to teach us a new set of answers, which were not to be found in our books, from some of which I received new ideas, and got, as I thought, important light on religious subjects, which confirmed me more and more in my belief in the lloman Catholic doctrines. Those questions and answers I can still recall with tolerable accuracy, and some of them I will add here. I never have read them, as we were taught them only by word of mouth. Question. Why did not God make all the commandments ? Answer. Because man is not strong enousrh to keep them. Question. Why are men not to read the New Testament ? Answer. Because the mind of man is too limited and weak to understand what God has written. These questions and answers are not to be found in the common catechisms in use in Montreal and other places where I have been, but all the children in the Congregational Nunnery were taught them, and many more not found in these books. MARIA MONK. CH A PTER II. CONGREGATIONAL NUNNERY. Story told by a Fellow Pupil against a Priest — Other Stories — Pretty Mary — Confess to Father Richards — My subsequent Confessions — Instruction in the Catechism. There was a girl thirteen years old, whom I knew in the school, who resided in the neighbourhood of my mother, and with whom I had been familiar. She told me one day at school, of the conduct ofa priest wkh her at confession, at which I was astonished ; it was of so criminal and shameful a nature I could hardly believe it ; and yet I had so much confidence that she spoke the truth, that I could not discredit it. She was partly persuaded by the priest, to believe he could not sin, because he was a priest ; and that anything he did to her would sanctify her ; and yet she seemed somewhat doubtful how she should act. A priest, she had been told by him, is a holy man, and appointed to a holy office, and therefore, what would be wicked in another man, would not be so in him. She told me she had informed her mother of it, who expressed no anger nor disapprobation ; but only enjoined it upon her not to speak of it ; and remarked to her, as priests were not like men, but holy, and sent to save and instruct us, whatever he did was right. I afterwards confessed to the priest, that I had heard the story ; and had a penance to perform for indulging a sinful curiosity, in making inquiries ; and the girl had another for communicating it. I afterwards learned,, that other children had been treated in the same manner, and also of similar proceedings in other places. Indeed, it was not long before such language was used to me, and I well remember how my views of right and wrong were shaken by it. Another girl at the school, from a place above Montreal, called the Lac, told me the following story of what occurred recently in that vicinity. A yoi^ng squaw, called "La Belle Marie" (pretty Mary,) had been seenigoing to confession at the house of the priest, who lived a little out of the village. La Belle Marie was afterwards missed, and her murdered body was found in the river. A knife was also found bearing the priests name. Great indignation was excited among the Indians, and the priest immediately absconded, and was never heard from. A note was found on his table addressed to him, telling him to fly, if he was guilty. 9 MARIA MONK. It was supposed that the priest was fearful that his conduct might be betrayed by this young female ; and he undertook to clear himself by killing her. These stories struck me with surprise at first, but I gradually began to feel differently, even supposing them true, and to look upon the priests as men incapable of sin ; besides, when I first went to confession, which I did to father Richards, in the old French church, (since taken down,) I heard nothing improper ; and it was not until 1 had been several times, that the priests became more and more bold, and at length indecent in their ques- tions, and even in their conduct, when t confessed to them in the Sacristie. This subject, I believe, is not understood nor suspected among Protestants; and it is not my intention to speak of it very par- ticularly, because it is impossible to do so without saying things both shameful and demoralizing. I will only say here, that when quite a child, I heard from the mouths of the priests at con- fession what I cannot repeat, with treatment corresponding ; and several females in Canada have assured me that they have re- peatedly, and indeed regularly, been required to answer the same and other like question^, many of which present to the mind deeds which the most iniquitous and corrupt heart could hardly invent. There was a frequent change of teachers in the school of the Nunnery, and no regular system was pursued in our instruction. There were many nuns who came and went while I was there, being frequently called in and out without any perceptible reason. They supply school teachers to many of the country towns, usually two for each of the towns with which I was acquainted, besides sending sisters of charity to different parts of the United States. Among those whom I saw most was St. Patrick, an old woman for a nun, (that is, about forty,) very ignorant and gross in her manners, with quite a beard on her face, and very cross and disagreeable. She was sometimes our teacher in sewing, and was appointed to keep order among us. We were allowed to enter only a few of the rooms in the congregational Nunnery, although it was not considered one of the secluded convents. " In the black Nunnery, which is very near the congregational, is an hospital for sick people from the city ; and sometimes some of our boarders, such as were indisposed, were sent there to be cured. I was once taken ill myself, and sent there, where I remained a few days. There were beds enough for a considerable number more. A physician attended it daily, and there are a number of the veiled nuns of that convent wno spend most of their time there. They would also sometimes read lectures and repeat prayers to us. . . > . MARIA MONK. 9 After I had been in the Congregational Nunnery about two years, I left, and attended several different schools for a short time. But I soon became disatisfied, having many and severe trials to endure at home, which my feelings will not allow me to describe ; and as my Catholic acquaintances had oflen spoken to me in favour of their faith, I was inclined to believe it true, although, as I before said, I knew little of any religion. While out of the Nunnery, 1 saw nothing of religion. If I had, I believe I should never have thought of becoming a nun. , y. CHAPTER III. BLACK NUNNERY. Preparations to become a Novice in the Black Nunnery — Entrance — OccupationB of the Novices — The Apartments to which they had access — First interview with Jane Ray — Reverence for the Superior — A won- derful Nun — Her reliques — The Holy Good Shepherd, or Nameless Nun — Confession of Novices. t At length, I determined to become a black nun, and called upon one of the oldest priests in the seminary, to whom I made known my intention. The old priest to whom I applied was Father Rocque ; he is still alive. He was at that time the oldest priest in the seminary and carried the Bon Dieu, (Good God,) as the sacramental wafer is called. When going to administer it in any country place, he used to ride with a man before him, who rang a bell as a signal. When the Canadians heard it, whose habitations he passed, they would come and prostrate themselves to the earth, worshipping it as God. He was a man of great age, and wore large curls, so that he somewhat resembled his predecessor, Father Roue. He was at that time the head of the seminary. This institution is a large edifice, situated near the congregational and Black Nunneries, being on the east side of Notre-Dame-Street. It is the general rendezvous of all the priests in the District of Montreal ; and, I have been told, supplies all the country, as far down as the Three Rivers ; which place, I believe, is under the charge of the seminary of Quebec. About one hundred and fifty Eriests are connected with that of Montreal, as every small place as one priest, and a number of larger ones have two. Father Roue promised to converse with the superior of the Convent, and proposed my calling again at the end of two weeks ; 10 MARIA MONK. at which time I visited the seminary again, and was introduced, by him, to the superior of the black Nunnery. She told me she must make some inquiries, before she could give me a decided answer, and proposed to me to take up my abode a few days at the house of a French family, in St. Lawrence suburbs, a distant part of the city. Here I remained about a fortnight ; during which time, I formed some acquaintance with the family, par- ticularly with the mistress of the house, who was a devoted Papist, and had a high respect for the superior, with whom she stood on good terms. At length} on Saturday morning, about ten o' clock, I called, and was admitted into the black Nunnery, as a novice, much to ray satisfaction ; for I had a high idea of a life in a Convent, secluded, as I supposed the inmates to be, from the world and all its evil influences, and assured of everlasting happiness in heaven. The Superior received me, and conducted me into a large room, where the novices, (who are called in French, Postulantes,) were assembled, and engaged in their customary occupation of sewing. Here were about forty of them, and they were collected in groups in different parts of the room, chiefly near the windows ; but in each group was found one of the veiled nuns of the Convent, •whose abode was in the interior apartments, to which no novice was to be admitted. As we entered, the Superior informed the assembly that a new novice was come, and she desired any present who might have known me in the world to signify it. Two, Miss Feugnees and a Miss Howard, from Vermont, who had been my fellow pupil in the Congregational Nunnery, immediately recog- nized me. I was then placed in one of the groups at a distance from them, and furnished by a nun, called Sainle Clotilde, with materials to make a kind of a purse, such as priests use to carry the consecrated wafer in when they go to visit the sick. I well remember my feelings at that time ; sitting among a number of strangers, and expecting, with painful anxiety, the arrival of the dinner hour ; then, as I knew ceremonies were to be per- formed, though for which I was but ill prepared, as I had not yet heard the rules by which I was to be governed, and knew nothing of the forms to be repeated in the daily exercises, except the creed in Latin, and that imperfectly. This was during the time of recreation, as it is called : the only recreation there idlowed, however, is that of the mind ; and of this there is little ; we were kept at work, and permitted to speak with each other only in hearing of i,he old nuns who sat by us. We proceeded to dinner in couples, and ate in silence while a lecture was read. The novices had access to only eight of the apartments of the Convent, and whatever else we wished to know we could only conjecture. The sleeping-room was in the second story, at the MARIA MONK. w end of the western wing ; the beds were placed in rows, without curtains or any thing else to obstruct the view, and in one comer was a small room partitioned off, in which was the bed of the night-watch — that is, the old nun who was appointed to oversee us for the night ; in each side of the partition were two holes, through which she could look out upon us whenever she pleased. Her b^ was a little raised above the level of the others. There was a lamp hung in the middle of our chamber, which showed every thing to her distinctly ; and as she had no light in her little room, we never could perceive whether she was awake or asleep. As we knew that the slightest deviation from the rules would expose us to her observation, as well as to that of our com- panions, in whom it was a virtue to betray one anothers faults, as well as our own, I felt myself under a continual exposure to suffer what I disliked ; and had my mind occupied in thinking of what I was to do next, and what I must avoid; though I soon learned the rules and ceremonies we had to pass, which were many, and we had to be very particular in their observance. We were employed in different kinds of work while I was a novice. The most beautiful specimen of the nuns' manufacture which I saw, was a rich carpet made of fine worsted, which had been begun before my acquaintance with the Convent, and was finished while I was there. This was sent as a present to the King of England, as an expression of gratitude for the money annually received from the Government. It was about forty yards in length, and very handsome. We were ignorant of the amount of money thus received. The Convent of Grey Nuns has also received funds from the Government, though, on some account or other, had not for several years. I was sitting at the window one time with a girl named Jane M'Coy, when one of the old nuns came up and spoke to us in a tone of liveliness and kindness, which seemed strange in a place where everything seemed so cold and reserve. Some remark which she made was evidently intended to cheer and encourage me; and made me think that she felt some in- terest in me ; I do not recollect what she said ; but I remem- ber it gave me pleasure. I also remember that her manners struck me singularly. She was rather old for a nun — that is, probably thirty ; her figure large, her face wrinkled, and her dress careless. She seemed also to be under less restraint than the others ; and this I afterwards found was the case. She sometimes even set the rules at defiance ; she would speak aloud when silence was required, and sometimes walk about when she ought to have kept her place ; she would even say and do things on purpose to make us laugh, and, although of\en blamed for her conduct, had IS MARIA MONK. her offences frequently passed over, when others would have been punished with penances. I learnt that this woman had always been singular. She never would consent to take a saint's name on receiving the veil ; and had always been known by her own, w^hich was Jane Ray. Her irregularities were found to be numerous ; and penances were of so little use in governing her, that she was pitied by some, who thought her insane ; she was therefore commonly spoken of as mad Jane Ray ; and when she committed a fault, it was otlen apologised for by the Superior or other nuns, on the ground that she did not know what she did. The occupations of a novice in the Black Nunnery, are not such as some of our readers may suppose. They are not employed in studying the higher branches of education ; they are not offering auy advantages for storing their minds, or polishing their manners ; they are not taught even reading, writing, or arithmetic ; much less any of the more advanced branches of knowledge. My time was chiefly employed, at first, in work and prayers : it is true, during the last year I studied a great deal, and was required to work b|i4 very little ; but it was the study of prayers in French and Latin, which I had merely to commit to memory, to prepare for the easy repetition of them (mi my reception, and after I should be admitted as a nun. Among the wonderful events which had happened in the Convent, that of the sudden conversion of a gay young lady of the city into a nun, appeared to me one of the most remarkable. The story which I first heard, while a novice, made a deep im- pression upon my mind ; it was nearly as follows : — The daughter of a wealthy citizen in Montreal was passing the Church of Bon Secours one evening on her way to a ball, when she was suddenly thrown upon the steps, or near the door, and received a severe shock. She was taken up, and removed first, I think, into the church, but soon into the Black Nunnery, which she soon determined to join as a nun ; instead, however, of being required to pass through a long novitiate, (which usually occupies about two years and a half, and is abridged only where the character is peculiarly exemplary and devout,) she was permit- ted to take the veil without delay ; being declared by God to a priest to be in a state of sanctity. The meaning of this expression IS, that she was a real saint, and already, in a great measure, raised above the world and its influences; and incapable of sinning ; possessing the power of intercession ; and a pro- per object to be addressed in prayer. This remarkable in- dividual, I was further informed, was still in the Convent, though I never was allowed to see her ; she did not mingle with % •HWWBMt lil» MARIA MONK. \B the other nuns, either at work, worship, or meals ; for she had no need of food, and not only her soul, but her body, was in heaven a great part of the time. What added, if possible, to the reverence and mysterious awe with which I thought of her, was the fact, I learned she had no name. The titles used in speaking of her were, " the holy saint," " reverend mother," or " saint bon pasteur" (the holy good shepherd.) It is wonderful that we could have carried our reverence for the Superior so far as we did; although it was the direct tendency of many instructions and regulations, indeed the whole system, to permit, even to foster a superstitious regard for her. One of us was occasionally called into her room to cut her nails, or dress her hair ; we would often collect the clippings, and distribute them with the utmost care. I once picked up all the stray hairs I could find after combing her head, bound them together, and kept them for some time, until she told me I was not worthy to possess things so sacred. Jane M'Coy and I were once sent to alter a dress for the Superior. I gathered up all the bits of thread, made a little bag, and put them into it for safe preservation. This I wore a long time round my neck, so long indeed, that I wore out a number of strings, which I remember I had replaced with new ones. I believed it to possess the power of removing pain, and have often prayed to it to cure the toothache, &c. Jane Kay sometimes professed to out-go us all in devotion to the Superior, and would pick up the feathers after making her bed. These she would distribute among us, saying, ** When the Supe- rior dies, relics will begin to grow scarce, and you had better supply yourselves in season." Then she would treat tlie whole matter in some way to turn it into ridicule. Equally con- tradictory would she appear, when occasionally she would obtain leave from the Superior to tell her dreams. With a serious face, which sometimes imposed upon us all, and made us half believe she was in perfect state of sanctity, she would narrate in French some unaccountable vision which she said she had enjoyed ; then turning round, would say, " There are some who do not imder- stand me ; you all ought to be informed." And then she would say something totally different in English, which put us to the greatest agony for fear of laughing. Sometimes she would say that she expected to be Superior herself one of those days, and other things which I have not room to repeat. "While I was in the Congregational Nunnery, I had gone to the Parish Church whenever I was to confess ; for although the nuns had a private confession room in the building, the boarders were taken in parties through the streets, on different days, by some of the nuns, to confess in the church ; but in the black Nunnery, as we had a chapel, and priests attending in the confessionals, we never left the building. u MARIA MONK. Our confessions there, as novicies, were always performed in one way, so that it may be sufficient to describe a single case. Those of us who were to confess at a particular time, took our places on our knees near the confession box, and, after having repeated a number of prayers, &c., prescribed in our book, came up one at a time and kneeled beside a fine wooden lattice- work, which entirely separated the confessor from us, yet per- mitted ua to place our faces almost to hit> ear, and nearly con- cealed his countenance from our view, even when so near. I recollect how the priests used to recline their heads on one side, and often covered their faces with their hankerchiefs, while thev heard me confess my sins, and put questions to me, which were often of the most improper, and even revolting nature, naming crimes, both unthought of and inhuman. Still, strange as it may seem, I was persuaded to believe that all this was their duty, or at least, that it was done without sin. Veiled nuns would often appear in the chapel at confession ; though, as I understood, they generally confessed in private. Of the plan of their confession-rooms I had no information ; but I supposed the ceremony to be conducted much on the same plan as in the chapel, and in the church, viz., with a lattice interposed between the confessor and the confessing. Punishments were sometimes resorted to while I was a novice, though but seldom. The first time I ever saw a gag, was one day when a young novice had done something to oil'end the Superior. This girl 1 always had compassion for, because she was very young, and an orphan. The Superior sent for a gag, and expressed her regret at being compelled, by the bad conduct of the child, to proceed to such a punishment ; ailer which she put it in her mouth, so far as to Keep it upen, and then let it remain some time before she took it out. There was a leathern strap fastened to each end, and buckled to the back part of the head. ■4 CHAPTER IV. Displeased with the Convent — Left it — liesidenco at St. Denis— Relics — Marriage — Return to the Black Nunnery — Objections made by some Novices. After I had been a novice four or five years, that is, from the time I commenced school in the Convent, one day 1 was tk«iated by one of the nuns in a manner whicli displeased mc, and because I expressed some resentment, was required to beg her MAKIA MONK. 15 pardun. Not being satiated with this, although 1 complied with the command, nor with the coolness with which the Superior treated mo, I determined to quit the Convent at once, which I did without asking leave. There would have been no obstacle to my departure, I presume, novice as I then was, if I had asked permission ; but I was too much displeased to wait for that, and went home without speaking to any one on the subject. I soon after, visited the town of St. Denis, where 1 saw two young ladies with whom I had formerly been acquainted in Montreal ; and one of them a former schoolmate at Mr.lirorkman's school. After some conversation with me, and leamins that I had known a lady who kept school in the place, ihey advised me to apply to her to bo employed as her assistant teacher ; for she was then instructing the Government school in that place. I visited her, and found her willing, and I engaged at once as her assistant. The government society paid her £20 a year ; she was obliged to teach ten children gratuitously ; might have fifteen pence a month, (about a quarter of a dollar) for each of ten scholars more ; and then she was at liberty, according to the regulations, to demand as much as she pleased for the other pupils. The course o. .astruction, as required by the Society, embraced onl reading, writing, and what is called cyphering, though, I think, improperly. The only books used, were a spelling book, r In- struction de la JeunessBy the Catholic New Testament, and FHiS' torie de Canade. When these had been read through, in regular succession, the children were dismissed as having completed their education. No difficulty is found in making the common French Canadians content with such an amount of instruction as this ; on the contrary, it is often found very hard indeed to prevail upon them to send their children at all, for they say it takes too much of the love of God from them to send them to school. The teacher strictly complied with the requisitions of the Society in whose employment she was ; and the Roman Catholic cate- chism was regularly taught in the school, as much from choice as from submission to authority, as she was a strict Catholic. 1 had brought with me the little bag I have before mentioned, in which I had so long kept the clippings of the thread left after making a dress for the Superior. Such was my regard for it, that X continued to wear it constantly round my neck, and to feel the same reverence for its supposed virtues as before. I occasionally had the tooth ache during my stay at St. Denis, and then always relied on the influence of my little bag. On such occasions, I would say, — " By the virtue of this bag, may I be delivered from the toothache !" And I supposed that when it ceased, it was owing to that cause. While engaged in this manner, I became acquainted with a 10 MAUIA MONK. man, who soon proposed marriage ; and young and ignorant of the world as I was, I heard his offers with favour. Ou consulting with mv friend, she expressed a Triendly interest for me, advised me against taking such a step, and especially as I know little about ',he man, except that a report was circulated unfavourable to his character. Unfortunately, I was not wise enough to listen to her advice, and hastily married. In a few weeks I had occasion to repent of the steps I had taken, as the report proved true; a report which I thought justified, and indeed re()uircd our sena- ration. After I had been in St. Denis about three montns, finding myself thus situated, and not knowing what else to do, I d.termined to return to the Convent, and pursue my former intention of becoming a black Nun, could 1 gain admittance. Knowing the many inquiries the Superior would make relative to me during my absence, before leaving St. Denis, I agreed with the lady with whom I had been associated as a teacher, (when she went to Montreal, which she did very frequently,) to say to the Lady Superior I had been under her protection during my absence, which would satisfy and stop furtner inquiry, as I was sensible, should they know I had been married, I should not gain admittance. I soon left and returned to Montreal ; and, on reaching the city, I visited the Seminary ; and in another in- terview with the Superior of it, communicated my wish, and desired him to procure my re-admission as a novice. Little delay occurred. After leaving for a short time, he returned, and told mo that the Superior of the Convent had consented, and I was soon in- troduced into her presence. She blamed me for my conduct in leaving the Nunnery, but told me that I ought to be ever grateful to my guardian angel for taking care of me, and bringing me in safety to that retreat. I requested that I might be secured against the reproaches and ridicule of all the novices and nuns, which I thought some might be disposed to cast upon me, unless prohibited by the Superior; and this she promised me. The money usually required for the admission of novices had not been expected from me. I had been admitted the first time without any such requisition ; but now I chose to pay for my re-admission. I knew that she was able to dispense with such a demand, as well in this, as in the former case, and she knew that I wm not in possession of any thing like the sum required. But I was bent on paying to the Nunnery; and accustomed to receive the doctrine often repeated to me before that time, that when the advantage of the church was consulted, the steps taken were justifiable, let them be what they would : I therefore, resolved to obtain money on false pretences, confident that if all were known, I should be far from displeasing the Superior. I went to M^UIV MONK. 17 5 e the brigndu niajni', niul askod him to givu me the money payable to my inothur from hur prnsiori, which amounted to about thirty dollars ; and, without (|iiestioning my authority to receive it in her name, he ({ave it mc.W From several of hur frieuds, I obtained small sums under the name of loans ; so that altogether I had soon raised a number of pounds, with which I hastened to the Nunnery, and deposited a part in the hands of iho Superior. She received the money with evident satisfaction, though she must have known that I could not have obtained it honestly, and I was at once re>admitted as a novice. Much to mv gratification, not a word issued from the lips of my old associates, m relation to my unceremonious departure, nor my voluntary return. The Superior's orders, 1 had not a doubt, had been explicitly laid down ; and they certainly were carefully obeyed, for I never heard an illusion made to that subject, during my subsequent stay in the Convent, except, that when alone, the Superior would herself sometimes.say a little about it. There were several young ladies who entered while as novices, . / ..■■■. (oj Every pouible n.eans having been employed to pro«e that the itatements herein made by Maria Monk, are fiotltious and false, we parpose to furnish various notes, extracts from current publications, and the testimonies of other parties. corroboratiTO of tho real character, and cruel nature of the Convent and Nunnery STstem : thereby, proving to tho unprcoudioed reader, that Maria Monk is not singular in her evidence. Multitudes of witnesses to the same end can and will be produced ; if Divine Providence permit us to proceed with the worlc. Under the head of " Mvstbriks op the Munnery," the following appeared in the Church an4 Statu OoMttt*, in February, 1851. — " A letter from the west of Ireland makes some curious revelations in connection with the entrance into a Convent of a young lady, thedauthtor of a highly-respectable gentleman who, although himself a Roman Catholic, most strongly objects to the undue influence which has t)oen exercised to induce his child to take a step contrary, not only to his wishec, but in a great measure, opposed to the inclination of the 'devotee' herself. Al- though the namo.. are mentioned without reservation, it would perhaps be pre- mature to give ihom publioitv at this early stage, as the whole affair cannot much longer bo uonccalod from public scrutiny. Tho facts are briefly these : The lady, who is in her nineteenth year, was prevailed upon to forsake tho parental roof, under tho belief, dulv impressed upon her by certain of the sisterhood, that, like Joan of Arc, sho had received a call from heaven ; and, without as much as bid- ing her family farewell or apprising them previously of her intentions, she took shelter in the Convent. Hero sho was persuaded to write to her father, imploring forgiveness for the step she had taken ' in answering the call of God ;' upon the rooeiptof which, the distracted parents demanded an interview with their child. This was refused. Whereupon, her father intimated to the Superioress of the Convent that he would never give a penny of his money towards the sup]iort of the establishment. The nnswor to this threat, Wt.3 a hint that they would receive her as a ' lay nun ' (that is, a servant), in which capacity they would send her to America or some foreign station. Tho bewildered parent next appealed to the diocesan, who refused to interpose his authority ; but told him he might obtain an interview with his daughter, provided it should bo in the presence of a priest: but this gracious concession being declined, all hope of justice in that high quarter was abandoned, and the matter rests for the present— but onlv for the present. Tlto young lady was to havo had the sum of £5,000 as her portion. Tho siBterhood have decided upon sending their protege' to New Zealand in the ca- pacity of a 'lay nun;' but notwithstanding this determination, Blr. (the father) continues obdurate, and is resolved, come what will, that the fruits of his industry shall never bo spent among the pious ladies' who have taken so deep an interest in the fortune of hi» child." 2 c 18 MARIA MONK. 1, *' he has been prpm Webb Street Koman Catholic Chapel was wi'.L me last Friday nif(ht, just as we were about to go to bed.' I asked him what time was that : he said, between ten and eleven o'clock at night.' I asked what did a priest want here, at that hour, or what did he say ? He f Caghlan^ said, ' My mother and two sisters came in and sat down ; and very soon after the priest came in, accompanied b^ a very decent man, each having a small bottle in his hand, one contaiuicg, I believe, wine or some sort of red liquor, and in the other was holy water. Wnen tho priest came in, he said, ' Does Mr. Cagh- lan live here ?' I said, ' I do, sir.' He, (the priest) then said, ' Have you any holy water in the house? for the devil is in this room, and 1 am come to turn him out of it before I leave here, so that there will be peace and happiness in this house and in the neighbourhood, when I get the devil out.' I iuf-x said to the priest, ' We want no holy water here, but the blood of Jesus Christ is the holy water I want, for it will cleanse me from all my sins, and make me holy and good works, as a tree produces good friiit. He (the priest) then took the bottle that had the holy water in it, and pouring it on his hand, he sprinkled it all over the whole room, and on my mother and sisters ; he then came to put some of it on my head, but I said, ' No, for if I want my head washed, I have plenty of good firesh water in the butt, and it is better than the water you spoilt by putting salt in it.' He then lifted up his hand to th:\)w the water on my head, but I covered my head with the (^uilt, which he wet very much with the holy water. I then told my wife to call in a policeman, that I might give the priest in charge, but my sister turned the key in the door, and my wife could not get out. The priest then said, ' Come now, confess your sins to me, and I promise you that they will be all forgiven Tou before I leave this room.' I told him I would confess my sins to God and not to man ; for it is God only that can forgive me my sins, and not a priest nor any other man. and that I will prove it in an instant.' I then told my wife to hand me tho Biole from the cupboard : the priest put the bottle on the form, and clapped both bis hands toeether, ana said, ' This is the lad I m K*,. « MARIA MONK. 19 It happened that I one day got a leaf of an English Bible, which had been brought into the Convent wrapped round some sewing silk : purchased at a store in the city. For some reason or other, I determined to commit to memory a chapter it con- tained : which I soon did. It is the only chapter I ever learnt in the Bible ; and I can now repeat it. It is the uecond of St. Matthew's gospel, " Now when Jesus was born at Bethlehem of Judea," &c. It happened that I was observed reading the paper ; and when the nature of it was discovered, I was condemned to do penance for my offence. Great dislike to the Bible was shown by those who conversed with me about it, and several have remarked to me at different times, that if :t were not for that book. Catholics would never be led to renounce their own faith. I have heard passages read from the Envangile, relating to the death of Christ ; the conversion of Paul ; a few chapters from St. Matthew ; and perhaps a few others. The priest would also sometimes take a verse or two, and preach from it. I have read St. Peter^s life, but only in the book called the " Lives of the Saints." He, I understand, has the keys of heaven and hell ; and has founded our church. As for St. Paul, I remember, as I was taught to understand it, that he was once a great persecutor of the Homan Catholics, until he became convicted, and confessed to one of the father confessors, I don't know which : for who can expect to be forgiven, who does not become a Catholic and confess 1^"^ came to tarn out, that is the lad, the devil I want out of here ; I most have him out, and then there will be happiness and peace of mind in this house, and among the neighbours.' My sister also stood up in a great rage, and said, ' As soon as I see it I will tear it in pieces.' I then said to my wire, leaTe the Bible where it is, for as it frightens them it is better net to shew it to them. The priest bent all his fingers on both hands like grappling irons, and said, ' Come, we must leave him with him, that has his crooKs so fast in him, and I am sorry that there is not a scraper at the door.' He then raiscKl up his foot, knee high, and scraped his shoe i^inst the door, when he was doing that wicked deed, the other Jian palled the priest's log away, to prevent hira doing such a thing. This was on Friday night, by the Roman Catholic priost of Webb Street Chapel, Bermondsey, December the 27th, 1850.' W^hen I heard all this I took from my pocket, ' The Crlories of Mary,' and 1 read a few pages, particularly the ''wo ladders, one red and one white, to shew him how Roman Catholics trust more in the Virgin Mary and holy water than they do I a Christ and his blood. While I was reading to Caghlan his landlord came in, and ordered him to (^uit the room, for he would have no more visitors, nor pray rs, nor preaching in his houses, and that Caghlan should leavs this week, for the neighbours would not have him among them. This appears to be r.^ other scheme of the priests to break up the prayer meeting he has opened in hu room, as Father Kyne has done to my meeting in Angel Court, Long Acre, and he opened a school in my room, that continued only three weeks, when a fever raged in tue place, and out off all my enemies and persecu- tors, as it says in the 37th Psalm ; and so it came to pass, and I saw it, tor they weM all out off, and I am left to i^load the cause of God my Saviour. This week I visited sixty-two Roman (Catholic families, in the various courts and streets in Bermondsey, and out of the sixty-two I was only allowed to read in eight rooms." (<*) Of the power that holds Popery up— and of the power alone that can put it 20 MAUI A MONK. CHAPTER V. m Received Confirmation — Painful feelings— Specimen of instructions received on the subject. ' . • . • The day on which I received confirination, was a distressing one to me. I believed the doctrine of the Roman CathoHcs ; and, according to them, I was guilty of three mortal sins : concealing something at confession, sacrilege, in putting the body of Christ in the sacrament under my feet, and by receiving it while not in a state of grace. And now I had been led into all those sins, in consequence of my marriage, which 1 never had acknowledged, ab it would ''.ave cut me off from being admitted as a nun. On the day, therefore, when I went to the church to be con- firmed, with a number of others, 1 suffered extremely from the reproaches of conscience. I knew, at least I believed, as I bad been told, that a person who had been anointed with the holy oil of confirmation on the forehead, and dying in the state in which I was, would go down to hell ; and, in the place where the oil had been rubbed, the names of my sins would blaze out on my fore- head ; these would be a sign by which the devils would know me i and would torment me the worse for them. I was thinking down, the Uev. J. A. James thus speaks :— " A modern eloquent historian in one ot his writings said to this effect : When I see what Popery is now, and what attacks it has withstood and survived, I do not see by what pow'>r it is to be brought down.' Nor do I, till I look up to the Omnipotent One who sits upon the throne. There is something about Poperv which makes it treat ar^tument and eloquence as Leviathan does straws and rotten wood. It is sustained, in my opinion, not only by the temporal power that it commands on earth— though that is great, as all the despots of Europe prove — but by the powen of the infernal world —and it is heaven only that can conquer hell : God only tnat can subdue Satan ; and he will do it, for he has declared he will. But then he says—' For all these things I will be inquired of.' Prayer is that which moves the hand that moves all things. Prayer is that which, so to speak, awakens he arm of the Lord. I know that Papists pray, and a matter of sport it is for tnfidels to see them and the Protestants praying against each other. Yet is there anything in this to be matter of sport ? What should the litigants on this question do but carry their disputes to llim who is the God of truth ? Yes, Roman Catholics do pray. They are besieging heaven with prayers for England's conversion. One thing, how- ever, is enough to gi\e us assurance of the kind of reception their prayers must meet with in heaven ; and that is, they are addressed to the Yirgin Mary, shall I say more than to Ood or Christ ? If not, at any rate, to God and Christ through her. Let us, then, betake ourselves to prayer, which is always our l^est, sometimes our only resource. Never \7as there a louder call to prayer, than this papal ag- gression, with all that it implies and indicates, has sent forth. A praying nation is safe. God will be round about such a people as a wall of fire, and a glory in the midst of them. I have contidcnco in prayer. I have confidence in truth. I have confidence in Gml. Let us fight against Po|)cry upon our knees, in the sanctudry— in the social meeting — in the family— in the closet. That beautiftal, but profligate Popish (|ueen, Mary of Gotland, used to say, ' She was more afraid of the prayers of John Knox, than of the English army.' ; .;..i " And Hatnn trrmblcs when he sses, ^ . The weakest 8iitntu[i(m bin knern." '>ii') MARIA MUNK. 21 •ed of all this, while 1 sat in the pew, waiting to receive the oil. i felt, however, some consolation, as I. often did afterwards when my sins came to my mind; and this consolation I derived from another doctrine of the same church ; viz., that a bishop could ab- solve me from all these sins any minute before my death ; and I intended to confess them all to a bishop, before leaving the world. At length, the moment for administering of the " sacrament" arrived ; and a bell was rung. Those who had to be confirmed, had brought tickets from their confessors ; and these were thrown into a hat, carried around by a priest, who, in turn, handed each to the bishop, by which he learned the name of each of us, and applied a little of the oil to our foreheads; this was immediately rubbed off by a priest, with a bit of cloth, quite roughly.C") (a) No. 1 of Ilinu to Romanizert, published by Sceloy's, contains an excellent article on "The Conventual System." We extract aa follows— " Fifteen years ago I occupied, in a very solitary part of the town, a house, the garden of which was adjacent to that of a Convent of women. Though my windows overlooked the greatest part of their garden, I hod never seen my sad neighbours. In the month of May, on llogation-day, 1 heard numerous weak, very weak voices, chant- ing prayers, as the procession passed through the Convent-garden. The singing was sad, dry, unpleasant, their voices faint, as if spoiled by sufferings. I thought for a moment they were chanting prayers for the dead; but listening more attentively, I distinguished, on the contrary. " Te rogamus, audi nos," the song of hope which invokes the benediction of the God of life upon fruitful nature. This May-song chanted by these lifeless nuns, offered to me a bitter contrast. To see crawling along on the flowery verdant turf these poor girls, who will never bloom again ! — The thought of the middle ages, that had at first flashed across my mind, soon died away ; for then, monastic life was connected with a thousand other things; but in our modern harmony it is a barbarous contradiction, a false, grating tone? What I then beheld before me was then to be defended neither by nature, nor by history. * • • It is often from an instinctive tyranny, that tho Superiors delight in breaking the ties of kindred. ' The curate of my parish exhorted me to write to my father, who had just lost my mother. I let advent go by (during which time nuns are not permitted to write letters,) and the latter days of the month which are passed in retirement, in the institution, to prepare us for the renewing of our vows, which takes place on new-year's day. Hut, after the holy term. I hastened to fulfil my duty towards the best of fathers, b^ addressing to him, both my prayers and good wishes, and endeavouring to offer him some consolation in the afflictions and trials with which it had pleased God to visit him. I went to the cell of tlie Superior nun, to beg her to read over my letter, fix the convent-seal to it, and send it off; but she was not there. I there- fore put it in my cell upon the tabic, and went to prayers : during this time our Itcverend Mother, the Superior, who knew that I had written, because she had sent Olio of the nuns to see what I was about, beckoned to one of the sisters and bid her to take from mo my letter. She did so every time I wrote, seven times running, so that my father died five months afterwards, without ever obtaining a letter from me, which bo hod so much desired, and had even asked me for on his death-bed, by the curate of his parish.' — Note of Huter Lemonnier, in Mr. Tillard's Memoire. • * * In these dreadful prisons, which are punish- ments, you may perceive instruments of torture, wheels, iron collars, whips. In what, I should like to know, do convents of our time differ from houses of correc- tion and mad-houses ? Many convents seem to unite the three characters. I know but one difference between them ; whilst the houses of correction are in- spected by the law, and the mad-houses by tho police, both stop at the convent doors, the law is afraid, and dares not pass tho threshold. Sister Marie Lemonnier was shut up witli mad girls ; here she found a C'armelite nun, who had been there nine years. Tho third volume of tho Wandervitj Jew contains the real history of Mademoiselle B. Shu has passed latterly not into a mad-house, but into a convent." Which couvout is evon worse, in many respects, than a mad- house. %t MARIA MONK. I went home with some qualms of conscience, and often thoueht with dread of the following tale; which I have heard told to illuttrate the sinfulness of conduct like mine. A priest was once travelling ; when, just as he was passing hy a house, his horse fell on his knees, and would not rise. His rider dismounted* and went in, to learn the cause of so extraordinary an occurrence. He found there a woman near death ; to whom a priest was trying to aclminister the sacrament, but without success; for every time she attempted to swuilow it, it was thrown back out of her mouth, into the chalice. He perceived it was owing to un- confessed sin, and took away the holy wafer from her, on which the horse rose from his knees, and he continued his journey. I often remembered also, that I had been told, that we shall have as many devils biting us, if we go to hell, as we have uncon- fessed sins on our consciences. I was required to devote myself for about a year, to the study of the prayers, and practice of the ceremonies necessary on the reception of a nun. This I found a very tedious duty ; but, as I was released in a great degree, from the daily labours usually demanded of novices, I felt little dis- position to complain. CHAPTER VL Takiiig the Veil — Interview afterwards with the Superior— Surprise and Horror at the Discloeures — Resolution to submit. I WAS introt-'aced into the Superior's room on the evening pre- ceding the dav on which I was to take the veil, to have an inter- view with tne bishop. The Superior was present ; and the interview lasted about half an hour. The bishop, on this, as on other occasions, appeared to me habitually rough in his manner. His address was oy no means prepossessing. Before I took the veil, I was ornamented for the ceremony ; and was clothed in a rich dress belonging to the Convent, which was used on such occasions ; and placed not far from the altar, in the chapel, in the view of a number of spectators who had assembled ; in number, perhaps about forty, 'laking the veil is an affair which happen^ so Frequently in Montreal, that it has long ceased to be regardefl as a novelty : aud, although notice had been given in the French parish church as usual, only a small audience assembled, as I have mentioned. MARIA MONK. 83 Being well prepared with lone training, and frequent rehearsals, for what I was to perform, I stood waiting in my large flowing dress, for the appearance of the bishop. He soon presented him- self ; entering by the door behind the altar : I then threw myself at his feet, and asked him to confer upon me the veil. He ex- pressed his consent ; and then, turning to the Superior, I threw myself prostrate at her feet, according to my instructions .; repeat- ing what I had before done at rehearsals; and made a movement as if to kiss her feet. This she prevented ; or appeared to prevent ; catching me by a sudden motion of her hand, and granted my request. I then kneeled before the holy sacrament ; that is — a large round wafer, held by the bishop between his fore finger and thumb, and made my vows. This wafer, I had been taught to regard with the utmost veneration, as the real body of Jesus Christ ; the presence of which, made the vows uttered before it, binding in the most solemn manner. Ader taking the vows, I proceeded to a small apartment behind the altar, accompanied by four nuns ; where there was a coffin prepared with my nun name engraven upon it : " Saint Eustace." My companious lifted it by four handles attached to it, while I threw off my dress, and put on that of a nuu oiSoeur ffourgeoite; and then we all returned to the chapel. I proceeded first, and was followed by four nuns; the bishop, naming a number of worldly pleasures in rapid succession ; in reply to which, I as rapidly repeated, " Je renonce, je renonce, je renonce,^^ — I re- nounce I renounce, I renounce.(''^ The coffin was then placed in (a) We solsmnly believe, and are assured, that so corrupt are the doctrines and doinga of the convent system, that had we the power, no such pretended religious community should nave any sanction whatever. Read the words of the Itev. W. Cams Wilson, in his introductory address to Narrative of E»«ape from a Portuffuete Gonoent. These arc his own words : — " Protestant [Ktrents ! I doubt not you shudder at the very recital of the horrors and abominations of the Portu- guese convent ; and nothing would more effectually seal your wretchedness for life, than the thought that a beloved daughter could thus be unnaturally lost to you. I doubt not, out your feelings of execration are roused to the very highest pitch against a system which admits of such cruelties : but stop for a moment. Remember, the school is only the ante-room of the nunnery. Polish principles admit of the breaking of faith with heretics; the 'Secreta Monita,' a treatise drawn up for the express purpose of directing the Jesuits in their line of conduct, and which singularly came to light in the pillaging of a monastery some years ago in Germany, and has been translated into English, and published in London, lays it down as a meritorious duty to go any lengths of lying, cruelty or thtil, to reclaim a heretic. The promitsc indeed may be given, not to interfere : and I recollect the case of a clergyman, (with shame be it spoken,) who sent his daughter to be perfected in the French language, in a school at Paris, depending, no doubt, on such a promise. She had previuuslv been educated in the Clergy Daughters' School, now removed to Casterton, and then at Cowen Bridge ; where, through grace, she had gathered strength for a time of trial. It pleased God to visit her with a fatal illness in the school, when every measure was resorted to, which priests and ' sisters ' could devise for her salvation. But every offer of holy water, of the Virgin's service, and of extreme unction were strenuously rejected, with the noble profession of her faith, amidst this wretched mummery and superstition. — ' None but Christ, nothing but Jesus for me.' Here was a striking instance of the snare being escaped ; but I ask, can you, with your eyes open, run ^- MARIA MONK. i'^i front of the altar, and I advanced to place myself in it. The coffin was to be deposited, after the ceremony, in an outhouse ; to be preserved until my death, when it viras to receive my corpse. There were reflections which I naturally made at that time ; but I stepped in, extended myself, and lay still. A pillow had been placed at the head of the coffin, to support my head in a comfort- able position. A large thick black cloth was then spread over me, and the chanting of Latin immediately commenced. My thoughts were not the most pleasing during the time I lay in that situation. The pall, or " Brap Mortel,'^ as the cloth is called, had a strong smell of incense, which was always disagreeable to me, and then proved almost suffocating. I recollected a story of a novice, who in taking the veil, lay down in her coffin like .ne ; and was covered in the same manner ; but, on the removal of the covering, was found dead. When I was uncovered, I rose, stepped out of my coffin, and kneeled: other ceremonies then followed, of no particular interest ; after which, the music com- menced ; and here the whole was finished. I then proceeded from the chapel, and returned to the Superior's room, followed by the other nuns, who walked two by two in their customary manner, with their hands folded on their breasts, and their ';yes cast down upon the floor. The nun who was to be my companion in future, the risk of involving a tenderly-loved daughter in such a horrible and irremedi- able ruin as this ? I feel that I shall not have sent this little work into the world in, vain, if but one parent is induced by the reading of it, to abandon his purpose and take the tafer side, and to prefer for his child a thoroughly Protestant education. What lieart does not weep over such an instance, as occurred lately in the country in which I live ? Two daughters of a respectable lloman Catholic family, were sent to a distant seminary for education ; the period of their return was anxiously anticipated by their fond and affectionate parents ; when tidings came, that they had resolved to abandon for ever all their family endearments, and to take the veil. What agony must have thrilled through the soul of the tender mother ! Oh ! no fancied waters of separation can quench the feelings of pity and campassion which 1 feel towards her. Well may she be like liachael, weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, because they are not. And yet, there would be the uuccour of the church readily, and freely administered ! Strange, strange infatuation ! But how false and unscriptural is the convent system altogether '. False, because the history of their proceedings, as well as a correct knowledge of human nature, is at once conclusive, as to their inadequacy to effect, the desired object. If that object be the more successful victory over the temptations of the world, how completely is it forgotten that the world is in the heart i and that wherever we go, the world, ae it respects its real dangers and temptations, goes along with us. The question therefore is, whether the seclusion of a convent is more favourable for a heavenly and devoted course, than the station of life in which God has providentially placed us. 1 decidedly think not. Take the most favourable instance : that of a young person who is powerfully under a religious influence. Let it be concluded, that she takes the veil from a pur- desire to be dead to the world, and alive to God. Is the change of position cl y advantageous for her purpose? I believe that it is with the soul as it is y 'he body; that as the latter can only be kept in health by exercise— so the f«. v, in all that really regards its highest interests, thrives the best in the ac< ud full discharge of the relative and social duties of life. I believe that whiii ; JO first effect of real grace is to enlarge and liberalize the heart, the prin- ciple of gruco is best established and upheld by extension ; just as the waters are kept the purest, which, unlike tiic muddy and istaguant pools, flow in a lengthened Htrcain." MARIA MONK. !25 II )e It '■»Vi4u'' then walked at the end of the procession. On reaching the Superior's door, they all left me ; and I entered alone ; and found her with a hishop and two priests. The Superior now informed me, that having taken the black veil, it only remained that I should swear the three oaths custom- ary on becoming a nun ; and, that some explanations would be necessary from her. I was now she told tiie, to have access to every part of the edifice, even to the cellar ; where two of the sisters were imprisoned for causes which she did not mention. I must be informed that one of my great duties was to obey the priest in all things ; and this I soon learned, to my utter astonishment and horror, was to live in the practice of criminal intercourse with them. I expressed some of the feelings which this announcement excited in me, which came upon me like a flash of lightning ; but the only effect was to set her arguing with me in favour of the crime, representing it as a crime acceptable to God, and hon- ourable to me. The priests, she said, were not situated lijce other men, being forbidden to marry, while they lived secluded, laborious, and self-denying lives, for our salvation. They might indeed, be considered our saviours ; as, without their services, we could not obtain pardon of sin, and must go to hell. Now, it was our solemn duty on withdrawing from the world, to consecrate our lives to religion, and to practice every species of self-denial. We could not become too humble, nor mortify our feelings too far ; this was to be done by opposing them, and acting contrary to them; and what she proposed was, therefore, pleasing in the sight of God. I now felt how foolish I had been to place myself in the power of such persons as were around me. From what she said, I could draw no other conclusion, but that I was required to act like the most abandoned of beings, and that all my future associates were habitually guilty of the most henious and detest- able crimes. When I repeated my expressions of suprise and horror, she told me that such feelings were very common at first, and that many other nuns had expressed themselves as I did, who had long since changed their minds ; she even said, that on her entrance into the nunnery, she had felt like me.^") (o) Surely such disclosures as are here given, must convince every Protestant reader, of the imperative duty of making Convents and Nunneries throughout the ISritish dominions, the sulDject of legislative interference. Is it to bo endured for a moment, that these abominations can be going forward in our own country with all our boasted light and liberty, while even in the benighted and 8uper< atitious countries of Spain and Portugal, they have been seen in their true colors, and summarily annihilated ? The Prouitant Magazine says, " The monastic orders in Spain appear ta be in a rapid course of suppression. On the 18th of September the whole of the Convents and Monasteries were shut up at Cadiz, and the inmates obliged to leave, after only live hours' notice. Such u change was, however, effected without any riot or bloodshed, though the women rendered thomselvos conspicuous by plundering two convents. A letter says, ' There is not now a monk remaining in the city.' Among the items of int4.>lligenco received i^'^ flO MARIA MONK. ' Doubts, she declared, was among our greatest enemies ; they would lead us to question every point of duty, and induce us to waver at every step. Thejr arose only from remaining imperfect' ion ; and were always evidences of sin. Our only way was to dismiss them immediately, repent, and confess them : they were deadly sins ; and would condemn us to hell, if we should die without confessing them. Priests, she insisted, could not sin. It was a thing impossible. Everv thing that they did, and wished, was, of course right. She hoped I would see the reasonableness and duty of the oaths I was to take, and be faithful to them. She gave another piece of information, which excited other feelings in me, scarcely less dreadful. Infants were sometimes bom in the (Jonvent ; but they were always baptized, and im- mediately stran;;led : this secured their everlastinj^ happiness ; for the baptism purified them from all sinfulness, and, bemg sent out of the world before they had time to do any thing wrong, they were at once admitted into heaven. How happy, she exclaimed, are those who secure immortal happiness to such little beings I Their little souls would thank thoise who kill their bodies, if they had it in their power. ("^ Into what a place, and among what society, had I been admit- ted ? How differently did a Convent now appear from what I had supposed it to be ! The holy women I had always fancied the Buns to be, the venerable Lady Superiors, what were they ? And the priests of the seminary adjoining, some of whom indeed I had reason to think, were base and profligate men ; what were they all ? I now learnt that they were often admitted into the nunnery, and allowed to indulge in the greatest crimes ; which they and others called virtues. After having listened for some time to the Superior alone, a number of the nuns were admitted, and took a free part in the conversation. They concurred in everything which she had told me, and repeated, without any signs of shame or compunction, things which criminated them- selves. 1 must acknowledge the truth, and declare that all this had an effect upon my mind I questioned whether I might not from Lisbon by the last arrivals, the suppression of the monasteries in Portugal holds a high place of importanoe. On the 28th of May, a decree was published, abolishing forever the privileges of the monastic orders throughout that kingdom and its dependencies — confiscating their properties, dispersing their societies, and appropriating their service of plate and utensils to the use of the parish churches." We hope England will quickly arouse herself to the clearing out of these dreadful haunts. (a) Read that well-authenticated Narrative, entitled," Horrors of the Nunuery," in Nos. 2 and 3 of Tlu Anti-Popith Reviewer ; or, Protettant Lamp for tke (Jhrittian Churchman; published by iloulston&8toncman, Paternoster-row; only One-penny each number ; a work that is spreading through the three kingdoms with great rapidity ; and will, we hope, be useful in these days, when Ilome is craftily plott- ing our overthrow. MARIA MONK. m be in tlie wrone ; and felt as if their reasonins might have some foundation. 1 had been several years under the tuition of Catholics; and was ignorant of the Scriptures, and unaccustomed to the society, example, and conversation of Protestants ; had not h tard any appeal to the Bible as authority ; but had been taught, both By precept and example, to receive, as truth, every- thing said by the priests. I had not heard their authority questioned; nor anything said of any other standard of faith but tlieir own declarations. I had long been familiar with the corrupt and licentious expressions which some of them use at confessions, and believed that other women were also ; I had no standard of duty to refer to ; and no judgment of my own which I knew how to use, or thought of using. All around me insisted that my doubts proved only my own ig- norance and sinfulness; that they knew by experience they would soon give place to true knowledge, and an advance in religion ; and I felt something like indecision. Still, there was so much that disgusted me in the discovery I had now nude of the debased characters around me, that I would most gladly have escaped from the nunnery and never returned. But that was a thing not to be thought of ; I was in their power, and this I deeply felt ; while I thought there was not one among the whole number of nuns to whom I could look for kindness. There was one, however, who b^an to speak to me at length in a tone that gained somethiilg of my confidence ; the nun whom I have mentioned before as distinguished for her oddity — Jane Bay, who made us so much amusement when I was a novice. Although, as I have remarked, there was nothing in her face, form, or manners, to give me any pleasure, she addressed me with apparent friendliness, and while she seemed to concur with some things spoken by them, took an opportunity to whisper a few words in my ear unheard by them, intimating, that I had better comply with everything the Superior desired, if I would save my life. I was somewhat alarmed before, but I now became nmch more so ; and determined to make no further resistance. The Superior then made me repeat the three oaths, and when I had sworn them, 1 was shown into one of the community rooms, and remained some time with the nuns, who were released from their usual employments, and enjoying a recreation day on account of the admission of a new sister. My feelings during the remain* der of the day, I shall not attempt to describe ; but pass on to mention the ceremonies that took place at dinner. This descrip- tion may give an idea of the manner in which we always took our meals, although there were some parts in which the breakfast and dinner were difTerent. ^ At eleven o'clock, the bell rang for dinner ; and the nuns all 'M I '1 « 28 MAHIA MONK. took their places in a double row, in the sumo order as that in which they had left the chapel in the morning ; except, that my companions and myself were stationed at the head of the line. Standing thus for, a moment, with our hands placed one on the other over the breast, and hidden in our large cuffs, with our heads bent forward, and eyes fixed on the floor. An old nun, who stood at the door, clapped her hands as a signal for us to pro- ceed, and the procession moved on ; while wo all commenced the repetition of litanies. We walked on in this order, rei)eating all the way until we reached the door of ths dining-room, where we were divided into two lines ; those on the right passing down on one side of the long table, and those on the led the other, till all were in ; and each stopped in her place. The plates were all ranged, each with a knife and fork, and spoon, rolled up in a napkin, and tied round with a linen band marked with the owner's name. My own plate, knife, and fork, &c. were pre- pared like the rest ; and on the band around them I found my new name written ; — "Saint Eustace." There we stood till all had concluded the litany ; when the old nun, who had taken her place at the head of the table next the door, said the prayer before meat, beginning, *' Benedicte^'' and we sat down. I do not remember of what our dinner con- sisted, but we usually had soup and some plain dish of meat ; the remains of which were occasionally served up at supper as a fricasee. One of the nuns, who had been appointed to read that day, rose, and began a lecture from a book put into her hand by the Superior ; while the rest of us ate in silence. The nun who reads during dinner, stays afterwards todine. As fast as we finished our meals, each rolled up her knife, fork, and spoon, in her napkin, and bound them together with the band, and sat with hands folded. The old nun then said a short prayer, rose, stepped a little aside, clapped her hands, and we marched towards the door, bowing, as we passed, before a little chapel, or glass box, containing a wax image of the infant Jesus. Nothing important occurred until late in the aflernoon ; when, as I was sitting in the community -room, Father Dufresnc called me out, saying he wished to speak with me. I feared what was his intention ; out I dared not disobey. In a private apartment, he treated me in a brutal manner ; and from two other priests I afterwards received similar usage that evening. Father Dufresne afterward appeared again ; and I was compelled to remain in company with him till morning. I am assured that the conduct of priests in our Convent, has never been exposed ; and is not imagined by the people of the United Stales. This induces iiie to say what I do, notwithstanding the strong reasons 1 have to let it remain unknown. Still I cannot force myself to speak on such subjects except in the most brief manner. fi ,':si i' f >1 M,\niA MONK. .^^ I ' ■ ■ ■ n CHAPTER VII. Daily ceremonies — Jane Ray among the nuns. On Thursday morning, the bell rung at half-past six to waken us. The old nun who was acting as night-watch, immediately spoke aloud, " Foici le Seigneur qui vient" (Behold the Lora cometh.) The nuns all responded •* Allons — y devant /tt»." (Let us go and meet him.) We then rose immediately} and dressed as expeditiously as possible, stepping into the pasaage^ way at the foot of our beds as soon as we were ready, and taking places each beside her opposite companion. Thus we were soon drawn up in a double row the wtiole length of the room, with our hands folded across our breasts, and concealed in the broad cuflEs of our sleeves. Not a word was uttered. When the signal was given, we all proceeeded to the community-room, which is spacious, and took our places in rows facing the entrance ; near which the Superior was seated in a vergiere. We first repeated, *' Au nom du Pere, du Fills, et du Saint Esprit — Ainsi sait il," (In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, — Amen.) We then kneeled and kissed the floor ; then, still on our knees, we said a very long prayer, be- ginning ; '* Divin Jesus, Saveur de mon ante.** (Divine Jesus, Saviour of my soul.) Then came the Lord's prayer, three hail Mary's, four creeds, and five confessions. (Confesse a Dieu.) Next we repeated the ten commandments. Then we repeated the Actsi of the Faith, and a prayer to the Virgin in Latin ; (which, like every thing else in Latin, I never understood a word of.) Next we said the litanies of the holy name of Jesus in Latin, which was afterwards to be repeated several times in the course of the day. Then came the prayer for the beginning of the day ; then bending down, we commenced the Orison Mental, (or Mental Orison,) which lasted about an hour and a half. This exercise was considered peculiarly solemn. We were told in the nunnery, that a certain saint was saved by the use of it ; as she never omitted it. It consisted of several parts. First, the Superior read to us a chapter from a book ; which occupied five minutes. Then profound silence prevailed for fifteen minutes ; during which we were meditating upon it. Then she read another chapter of equal length on a different subject ; and we meditated upon that another quarter of an hour; and after a third reading and meditation, we finished the exercise with a prayer, called an act of contrition ; in which we asked forgiveness for the sins committed during the Orison. so MARIA MONK. During this hour and a half I became very weary ; having before been kneeling for some time, and having then to sit in another position more uncomfortable, with my feet under me, and my nands clasped, and my body bent humbly forward, with my head bowed down. When the Orison was over, we all rose to the uprifjpht kneeling posture, and repeated several prayers, and the litanies of the Providence ; " Providence de Dieuy* ^c. Then followed a number of Latin prayers, which we repeated on the way to mass ; for, in the nunnery we had mabs daily. When mass was over we proceeded in our usual order to the eating-room to break- fast, practising the same forms which I have described at dinner. Having made our meal in silence we repeated the litanies of the " Holy name of Jesus," as we proceeded to the community-room ; and such as had not finished them 0.1 their arrival threw them- selves upon their knees, and remained there until tliey had gone through with them, and then kissing the floor, rose again. At nine o'clock commenced the lecture, whicn was read by a nun appointed to perform that duty that day ; all the rest of us in the room being engaged in work. The nuns were at this time distributed in difTerent commuaity- rooms, at different kinds of work, and each was listening to a lecture. This exercise continued until ten o'clock, when the recreation bell rang. We still continued our work ; but the nuns began to converse with each othe.* on subjects permitted by the ruleii, in the hearing of the old nuns, one of whom was seated in each of the groups. At half-past ten the silence bell rang, and this conversation instantly ceased, and the recitation of some latin prayers, com- menced, which continued half-an-hour. At eleven o'clock the dinner bell rang, and then we proceeded to the dining-room, and went through the forms and ceremonies of the preceeding day. We proceeded two by two. The old nun who had the command of us clapped her hands af:; the first couple reached the door, when we stopped. Tho hrst two dipped their fingers into the font, touched the holy wc >er to the breast, forehead, and each side, thus forming a cross, said, " In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen," and then walked on to the dining-room, repeating the litanies. The rest followed their example. On reaching the door the couples divided, and the two rows of nuns marching up, stopped and faced the table against their plates. There we stood repeating the close of the litany aloud. The old nun then pronounced "Betw- dicite** and we sat down. One of our numbet began to read a lecture, which continued during the whole meal. She stays to eat after the rest have retired. When we had dined each of us folded up her napkin, and again folded her hands. The old nun ■atfilKMBWi^ MARIA MONK. 31 id then repeated o short prayer in French, and stepping aside from the head of the table, let us pass out as we came in. Each of us bowed in passing the little chapel near the door, which is a glass- case containing a waxen figure of the infant Jesus. When we reached the community room we took our places in rows, and kneeled upon the floor, while a nun read aloud, " Douleurs de Notre aainte Marie,** (tlie sorrows of our holy Mary.) at the end of each verse we responded " j4ve Maria** We then repeated again tlie litanies of the Providences, and the " Benisaante.** Then we kissed the floor ; and rising, took our work, with leave to converse on permitted subjects (this is what is called recre-> otion,) till one o'clock. We then began to Te|)eat litanies, one at a time in succession ; still engaged at sewing for an hour. At two o' clock commenced the afternoon lectures ; which lasted till near three. At that hour one of the nuns stood up in the middle of the room, and asked each of us a question out of the catechism ; and such as were unable to answer correctly were obliged to kneel down until that exercise was concluded upon as many dry pens as there were verses in the chapter out of which they were questioned. This seems like a penance of no great importance ; but I have sometimed kneeled on peas until 1 suffer- ed preat inconvenience, and even pain. It soon makes one feel as if needles were running through the skin. Whoever thinks it a trifle had better try it. At four o'clock recreation commenced, when we were allowed, as usual, to speak to each other while at work. At half ^ ^ist four wo began to repeat prayers in Latin, while we worked ; and concluded about five o'clock, when we commenced repeating the ** prayers for the examination of conscience ;" the *' prayer after confession ;" the ** nrayer before sacrament ;" and the " prayer after sacrament." Thus we continued our work until dark ; when we laid it aside, and began to go over the same prayers which we had repeated in the morning, with the exception of the Orison Mentale ; instead of that long exercise, we examined our con- sciences, to determine whether we had performed the resolution we had made in the morning ; and such as had kept it repeated an **acte dejoie** or expression of gratitude; while such as had not said an "acte de contrition.** When the prayers were con- cluded, anv nun who had been disobedient in tne day, knelt and asked pardon of the Superior, and her companions, '* for the scandal she had caused them ;" and then requested the Superior to give her a penance to perform. When all the penances had been imposed, we all proceeded to the eating room to supper, repeating litanies on the way. At supper the ceremonies were the same as at dinner, except that there was no lecture read. We ate in silence, and went out bowing to the chapelle, and re- ■iei 32 MAHIA MONK. ii ii pealing litanies, Ketuining to the community- room, which avc had loft, we had tnore prayers to repeat, whieh are called *' La corounne, (crown) which consist of the following parts. — First, — Four " Paters.'^ Second, — Four " Ave Marias." Third, — Four *♦ Gloria i^u'rzas." Fourth, — " Benisser^ Satiiei/s." At the close of these we kissed the floor ; after which we had recreauon till half-past eight o' clock ; being allowed to converse on permitted subjects, but closely watched, and not allowed to sit in the corner. At half past eight a bell was rung, and a chapter was read to us in a book of meditations, to emloy our minds upon, during our waking hours at nij^ht. Standing near the door we dipped our fingers in the holy water; crossed, and blessed ourselves, and proceeded up to the sleeping-room in the usual order, two by two. When we had got iiitc bed, we repeated a prayer beginning with ; " Mon Dieu^ je vous donne mon coeur." *' My God, I ^\\c you my heart." And then an old iiun, bringing some hoFy water, sprinkled it on our beds to frighten away the devil j while we took some and crossed ourselves again. At nine o' clock the bell rang, and all who were awake repeated a prayer, called the oflTrande ; those who were asleep were considered as excused. After my admission among the nuns, I had more opportunity than before to observe the conduct of mad Jane Kav. She behaved quite differently from the rest, and with a acgree of levity irreconcilable with the rules. She was, as I have described her, a large woman, with nothing beautiful or attractive in her face, form, or manners ; careless in her dress, and of a restless disposition, which prevented her from steadily applying herself to anything for any length of time, and kept her perpetually roving about, and almost perpetually talking to somebody or other. It would be very difficult to give an accurate description of this singular woman, dressed in the plain garments of the nuns, bound by the same vows, and accustomed to the same life, re- sembling them in nothing else, and frequently interrupting all their employments. She was apparently almost always studying, or pursumg some odd fancy ; now rising from sewing to walk up and down, or straying in from another apaklmeut, looking about, addresoing some of us, and passing out again, or saying something to make us laugh. But what shewed she was no novelty was the little attention paid to her, and the levity with which she was treated by the old nuns, even the Superior every day passed over irregularities in this singular person, which she would have punished with penance, or at least have met with reprimands in any other. From vhat I saw of her I soon perceived that she betrayed two distinct traits of character, — a kind dis})osition towards such as she chose to prefer, and a ])leasure in teasin;, those she disliked, or such us had offended her. MARIA MONK. 33 we Lii CHAPTER VIII Description of Apartniftnts in the Black Nunnery in order — First Floor- Second Floor — Garret — The Founder — Superior's Management with the Friends of Novices — Religious Lies— Criminality of concealing sins at Confessions. I WILL now give from memory, a general description of the interior uf the Convent of Black Nuns ; except the few apart- ments which I never saw. I may he inaccurate in some thmgs, as the apartments and passages of that spacious building are numerous and various ; but I am willing to risk my credit for trutli and sincerity on the general correspondence between my description, and tnings as they are. And this would, perhaps, be as good a case as any* by which to test the truth of my state- ments, were It possible to obtain access to the interior. It is well known that none but veiled nuns, the bishops, and priests, are ever admitted ; and, of course, that I cannot have seen what I profess to describe, if I have not been a black nun. The ]>riests who read this book, will acknowledg-^ to themselves the truth of my description ; but will, of course, ieny it to .it. world, and probably exert themselves to destroy my credit. I offer to every reader the following description ; knowing that time may possibly throw open those secret recesses, and allow the entrance '>f those who can satisfy themselves with their own eyes, of its truth. Some of my declarations may be thought deficient in evidence ; and this, they must of necessity be, in the present state of things. But here is a kind of evidence on which I relv, as I see how un- questionable and satisfactory it must prove, whenever it shall be obtained. If the interior of the Black Nunnery, whenever it shall be ex- annned, is materially different from the following <1oscription, then lean claim no confidence of njy readers. If it resembles it, they will, I presume, place cvnfiduice in some of those declarr.tions^ on which I may never be corroborated by true, and living witnesses. 1 am sensible that great changes may be made in the furniture of apartments ; that new walls may be constructed, or old ones re- moved ; and I have been credibly informed, that masons have been employed in the Nunnery since 1 left it. I well know, however, thi^t entire charges cannot be made ; and that enough must re- main, as it was to substantiate my description, whenever the truth shall be known.('»J (aj By divine permission, we purpose to give at great length, many published and incontestible descriptions of Nunnery Disclosures. For the present take the following from the ftev. Carus Wilson's Ettapt ':r prcscence ; .ind having embraced Ler parents an4 nearest relations, she is led by the lady who acts as bride's maid, to the tmuil door next to the double ^rating, which seperates the nuns' choir from the t'-^y of the church. A curtain ib drawn while the abbess cuts off the hair of the novice, and strips her of her v oridly ornaments. On the removal of the curtain, she appears in the monastic parb, surrounded by the nuns, bearing lighted taper8,her face covered with thf white veil of probationship, fixed on the head by a Wreath of flowers. After the Te Deum, or some other hymn of thanksgiving, the friends of the family adjourn to the looutory, or visitiug-room, where a collection of ices find sweetmeats is served in presence of the mock bride, who, with the principal nuns, attends behind the grating which separates the visitors from the innliites of the convent. In the more austere convents the parting visit is omitted, and the sight of the novice in the white veil, immediately afi.er having her bair cut off, is the last which, for a whole year, is grantetl to the parents. They again see her on the day when she binds herself with irrevocablo vows, never to behold her more, unless they should live to see her again crowned with flowors, when she is laid in the grave. * * Letters from Spain vividly exhibit the evil tendency of mo- nasteries. One letter says, — Many convents have been founded under the title of reformed, where, without regard to the sex of the votaries, young and delicate females are dubjccted to a life of privation and hardship, as the only infallible method of obtaining the favour of heaven. Their dress is a tunic of sackcloth, tied round the waist wi'h aknctted rope. The rule allows them no linen either for clothing or bedding; Woollen of the coarsest kind frets their bodies, day and night, even during the burning bummers of the south of Spain. A maihtle of the same sackcloth is the only addition which the nuns make to their dross in winter, whi'e their feet shul with open sandals, and without cither sucks or stockings, are ex- posed to the sharp winter blasts, and the deadening chill of the brick floors. A band of coarse linen two inches in breadth, is worn by the Capuchin nune, bound tight six or eight times round the head, in remembrance, it is said, of the crown of thorns ; and such is the barbarous spirit of the rule, that it docs not allow the band to be taken off even under an excess of fever. A young woman who takes the veil in any of the reformed convents, renounces the sight of her nearest re- lations. The utmost indulgence as to communication withiparents and brothers extends to a short conversation once a month, in the pres>^nce of one of the eider nuns, behind a thick curtain spread on the inner side of the iron grating, wuioh completely interrupts the view. The religious vows, howevcr,amongthe('apuoliin nuns put a final end to all communication between r«rent» and children.' MARIA MONK. 35 lent. sage jper 8age land Second, a large community-room, with plain benches fixed against the wall to sit, atid lower ones in front, to place our feet upon. There is a fountain in the passage near the chimney, at the further end, for washing the hands and fece, with a green curt'^in sliding on a rod before it. This pass^e leads to the old nun's sleeping*room on the right, and the Superior's sleeping- room just beyond it, as well as to a staircase which conducts to the nun's sleeping-room, or dormitoire above. At the end of the passage, is a door opening into— Tliird. the dining-room ; this is larger than the community- room, and has three long tables for eating,.and a chapelle,cr c(H- lection of little pictures, a crucifix, and a small image of the infant Saviour in a glass case. This apartment has four doors, by the fir •>f which we are supposed to have entered, while one opens i--^ ntry, and the third and fourth to the two next apartments. Fourth, a large community room, with tables foi" sewing ; and a staircase on the opposite left-hand corner. Fifth, a commnnity-room for prayer ; used by both nuns and novices. In the further right-hand comer, is a small room, par- titioned off, called the room for the examination of conscience, which I had visited while a novice, by permission of the Superior, and where nuns and novices occasionally resorted to reflect on their character, usually in preparation for the sacrament, or when they had transgressed some of the rules. This little room was hardly large enough to contain a half>dozen persons at a time. Sixth, next, beyond, is a large community-room for Sundays. A door leads to the yard, and thence to a gate in the wail on the cross street. Seventli ^'iiitining this is a sitting-room, fVontingon the cross street ; !■ ■ w whidows, and a store-room on the side opposite them. T f' it. but little furniture, and that is very plain. Eighth, i '^^i lis room, a door leads into what I may call the wax-room, a& A « ontains many figures in wax, not intended for sale. There we sometimes used to pray, or meditate on the Saviour's passion. This room projects from the main building ; leaving it, you enter a long passage, with cupboards on the right, in which are stored crockery-ware, knifes and forks, and other ar- ticles of table furniture, to replace them worn out or broken, all of the plainest description ; also Suovels, tongs, &c. This passage leads to — Nt 1 fi, a corner room, Kiih e few benches, &c. and a door lead- ing f r gat-' on the Street. Here som.' of the medicines were kepti J! 'i p^fiions were often admitted on business, or to obtain medicines with tickets from the priests ; and waited till the Supe- rior, or an old nun, could be sent for. Beyond this room we never were allowed to go ; and I cannot speak from personal know- ledge of what came next. ii * i > I 36 MARIA MONK. THE SECOND STORY. Beginning as before, at the western extremity of the north win^, but on the second story, the farthest apartment in that di- rection which I ever entered, was — First, the nun's sleepine-room, or dormitoire, which I have already described. Here is an access to the projection mentioned in speaking of the first story. The stairs by which we came up to bed are at the farther end of the room ; and near them a cru- cifix and fount of holy water. A door at the end of the room opens into a passage, with two small rooms, und closets between them containing bed-clothes._ Next y< ^nter — Second, a small com m unity -roo. a v . nd which is a passage with a narrow staircase, seldom usea. ich leads into the fourth community-room in the first story, following the passage just mentioned, you enter by a door — Third, a little sitting-room furnished in the following manner : with chairs, a sofa, on the north side, covered with a red figured cover and fringe ; a table in the middle, commonly bearing one or two books, an inkstand, pens, &c. At one corner is a little pro- jection into the room, caused by a staricase leading from above to the floor below, without any communication with the second story. This room has a door opening upon a staircase leading down to the yard, on the opposite side of which is a gate opening into the cross street. By this way the physician is admitted, except when he comes later than usual. When he comes in, he sits a little while, until a nun goes into the adjoining nun's sick room, to see if all is feady, and returns to admit him. After prescribing for the patients, he goes no farther, but returns by the way he enters ; and these two are the only rooms into which he is ever admitted. Fourth, the nun's sick room adjoins the little sitting-room on the east, and has, I think, four windows towards the north, with beds ranged in two rows from end to end, and a few more between them, near the opposite extremity. The door from the sitting- room swings to the left, and behind it is a table ; while a glass- case, on the right, contains a wax figure of the infant Saviour, with several sheep. Near the north-eastern corner of this room are two doors, one of which opens into a long and narrow passage, leading to the head of the great staircase that conducts to the cross •street. By this passage the physician sometimes finds his way to the sick-room, when he comes later than usual. He rings the bell at the gate, which I was told had a concealed pull, known only to him and the priests, proceeds up stairs, and through the passage, rapping three times at the door of the sick-room, which 18 opened by a nun in attendance, after she has given one rap in reply. When he has visited his patients, and prescribed for them, he returns by the same way. ,.^ j m MARIA MONK. 37 rth 11- Jive led up ru- fn& ?m th Fifth, next beyond this sick-room is a large unoccupied apart- ment, half divided by two partial partitions, which leave an open space in the middle. Here some of the old nuns commonly meet in the daytime. Sixth, a door from this apartment opens into another, not ap- propriated to any particular use, but containing a table, where medicines are sometimes prepared by an old nun, who is usually found there. Passing through this room, you enter a passage, with doors on its four sides : that on the left, which is kept fastened in the inside, leads to the staircase and gate ; that in front to private sick-rooms, soon to be described. Seventh, that on the right leads to another, appropriated to nuns suffering with the most loathsome disease. There were usually a number of straw mattrasses in that room, as I well knew, having helped to carry them in after the yard-man had filled them. A door beyond enters into a store-room, which extends also beyond this apartment. On the right, another door opens into another passage ; crossing which, you enter by a door — Eighth, a room with a bed and screen in one corner, on which nuns were laid to be examined before their introduction into the sick room last mentioned. Another door, opposite the former, opens into a passage, in which is a staircase leading down. Ninth, beyond this is a spare room, sometimes used to store apples, boxes of different things, &c. . Tenth, returning now to the passage which opens on one side upon the stairs to the gate, we enter the only remaining door, which leads into an apartment usually occupied by some of the old nuns, and frequently by the Superior. ■ ^'^ Eleventh and Twelfth, beyond this are two more sick rooms, in one of which those nuns stay who are waiting their accouch- ment ; and in the other, those who have passed it. Thirteenth, the next is a small sitting-room, where a priest waits to baptise the infants previous to their murder. A passage leads from this room on the left, by the doors of two succeeding apartments, neither of which have I ever entered. Fourteenth, the first of them is the ♦' holy retreat," or room occupied by the priests, while suffering the penalty of their licentiousness. Fifteenth, the other is a sitting-room, to which they have access. Beyond tliese the passage leads to two rooms, containing closets for the storage of various articles, and two others where persons are received who come on business. The public hospitals succeed, and extend a considerable dis- tance, I believe to the extremity of the building. By a public entrance in that part priests often come into the Nunnery ; and I have often seen some of them thereabouts, who must have entered as MARIA MOMK. M by that way. Indeed, priests often get into the " holy retreat" without exposing themselves to the view of persons in other parts of the Convent, and have been first known to be there, by the yard-nuns being sent to the Seminary for their clothes. The Congregational Nunnery was founded by a nun called Sister Bourgeoise. She taught a school in Montreal, and left property for the foundation of a Convent. Her body is buried, and her heart is kept under the Nunnery, in an iron chest, which has been shown to me, with the assurance that it continues in perfect preservation, although she has been dead more than one hundred and fifty years. In the chapel is the following inscrip* ♦inn : " Soeur Bourgeoise, Fondatrice du Convent." (Sister Bourgeoise, Founder cf the Convent.) Nothing was more com- mon than for the Superior to step hastily into our community- rooms, while numbers of us were assembled there, and hastily communicate her wishes in words like these : — '* Here are the parents of such a novice : como with me, and bear me out in this story.'* She would then mention the out- lines of a tissue of falsehoods she had just invented, that we might be prepared to fabricate circumstances, and throw in whatever else might favour the deception. This was justified, and, indeed, highly commended by the system of faith in which we were instructed. It was a common remark always at the initiation of a new nun into the Black Nun department, that k to receive the black veil, that the introduction of another novice into the Convent as a veiled nun, always caused the introduction of a veiled nun into heaven as a saint, which was on account of the singular disappearance of some of the older nuns always at the entrance of new ones ! To witness the scenes which often occurred between us and strangers, would have otrv.ok a person most powerfully, if he had known how tru*'i was set at nought. The Superior, with a serious aud dignified air, and a pleasant voice and aspect, would commence a recital ut things most favourable to the character of the absent novice, and representing her as equally fond of her situation, and beloved by the other inmates. The tale told by the Superior, whatever it was, however unheard before might have been any of her statements, was then attested by us, who iu every way we could think of, endeavoured to confirm her declarations beyond the reach of doubt. Sometimes the Superior would entrust the management of such a case to some of the nuns, whether to habituate us to the practise in which she was so highly accomplished, or to relieve herself of what would have been a serious burden to most other persons, or to ascertain whether she could depend upon us, or all together, I cannot tell. Often, however, have I seen her throw open a door and say, in a hurried manner, " Who can toil the best story ?" MARIA MONK. 39 It" fts le id |io le IP- ler One point, on which we received frequent and pa|:ticular in- structions was, the nature of falsehoods. On this subject I have heard many a speech, I had almost said, many a sermon ; and I was led to believe that it was one of great importance, one on which it was a duty to be well informed, as well as to act. " What !" exclaimed a priest one day — " what, a nun pf you/ age, and not know the difference between a wicked and a religious lie ?" He then went on, as had been dune many times previously in my hearing, to show the essential difference between the two different kinds of falsehoods. A lie told merely for the injury of another, for own interest alone, or for no purpose at all, he painted as a sin worthy of penance ; but a lie told for the good of the church or Convent was meritorious, and of course the telling of it a duty. And of this class of lies there were many varieties and shades. This doctrine had been inculcated upon me and my companions in the nunnery, more times than I can enumerate ; and to say that it was generally received, would be to tell a part of the truth. We often saw the practice of it, and were frequently made to take part in it. Whenever any thing which the Superior thought im- portant, could be most conveniently accomplished by falsehood, she resorted to it without scruple. There was a class of cases, in which she more frequently relied on deception than any other. The friends of novices frequently applied at the Convent to see them, or at least to enquire after their welfare. It was common for them to be politely refused an interview, on some account or other, generally a mere pretext ; and then the Superior generally sought to make as favourable an impression as possible on the visitors. Sometimes she would make up a story on the spot, and tell the strangers ; requiring some of us to confirm it, in tne most convincing way we could. At other times she would prefer to make over to us the task of deceiving, and we were commended in proportion to our ingenuity and success. Some nun usually showed her submission by immediately stepping forward. She would then add, perha^is, that the parents of such a novice whom she named, were m waiting, and it was necessary that they should be told such and such things. To perform so difficult a task well, was considered a difKcult duty, and It was one of the most certain ways to gain the favour of the Superior. Whoever volunteered to make a story on the spot was sent immediately to tell it, and the other ni^ns present were hurried off with her, under strict injunctions to uphold jier in everything she might state. The Superior, as there was every reason to believe, on all such occasions when she did not herself appear, hastened to the apartment adjoining that in which the nuns were 40 MARIA MONK. I going, there to listen through the thin partition, to hear whetlier all performed their parts aright. It was not uncommon for her to go rather further, when she wanted to give such explanations as she could have desired. She would then enter abruptly, and ask, " Who can tell a good story this morning ?" and hurry us off without a moment's delay, to do our best at a venture, without waiting for instructions. It would be curious, could a stranger from the '* wicked world" outside the Convent, witness such a scene. One of the nuns, who felt in a favourable humour to un- dertake the task would step promptly forward, and signify her readiness in the usual way : by a knowing wink of one eye, and a slight toss of the head. " Well, ^o and do the best you can," the Superior would say : " and all the rest of you mind and swear to it." The latter part of the order, at least, was always performed ; for in every case all the nuns present appeared as unanimous wit- nesses of every thing that was uttered by the spokeswoman of the day. We were constantly hearing it repeated, that we must never again look upon ourselves as our own ; but must remember, tha we were solemnly and irrevocably devoted to God. Whatever was required of us, we were called upon to yield under the most solemn considerations. 1 cannot speak on every particular with equal freedom ; but I wish my readers clearly to understand the condition in which we were placed, and the means used to reduce us to what we had to submit to. Not only were we required to perform the several tasks imposed upon us at work, prayers, and penances, under the idea that we were performing solemn duties to our Maker, but every thing else which was required of vr, we were constantly told, was something indispensable in his sight. The priests, we admitted, were the servants of God, especially appointed by his authority, to teach us our duty, to absolve us from sin, and to lead us to heaven. Without their assistance, we had allowed, we could never enjoy the favour of God ; unless they administered the sacrament to us, we could not enjoy ever- lasting happiness. Having consented to acknowledge all this, we had no objection to urge against admitting any other demand that might be made for or by them, if we thought an act ever so criminal, the Superior could tell us that the priests acted under the direct sanction of God, and could not sin. Of course, then, it could not be wrong to comply with any of their requests, because they could not demand any thing but what was right. On the contrary, to refuse to do any thing they asked, would necessarily be sinful. Such doctrines admitted, and such practices performed, it will not be thought wonderful when I mention that we often felt something of their preposterous character. Sometimes we took pleasure in ridiculing some of the favourite MARIA MONK. 41 Ir Ir Is themes of our teachers ; and I recollect one subject particularly, which at one period afforded us repeated merriment. It may seem irreverent in me to give the account, but I do it to show how things of a solemn nature were sometimes treated in the Convent, by women bearing the title of saints. A Canadian novice, who spoke very broken English, one day remarked that she was performing some duty " for the God." This peculiar expression had something ridiculous to the ears of some of us ; and it was soon repeated again and again, in application to various ceremonies which we had to perform. Maa Jane Ray seized upon it with avidity, and with her aid it soon took the place of a bye-word in conversation j so that we were constantly reminding each other that we were doing this thing and that thing, how trifling and unmeaning soever, " for the God." Nor did we stop here ; when the Superior called upon us to bear witness to one of her religious lies, or to fabricate the most spurious one the time would admit, to save her the trouble, we were sure to be reminded, on our way to the stranger's room, that we were doing it " for the God." And so it was when other things were men- tioned, every thing which belonged to our condition was spoken of in similar terms. I have hardly detained the reader long enough on this subject to give him a just impression of the stress laid on confession. It is one of the great points to which our attention was constantly directed to keep a strict and constant watch over our thoughts ; to have continually before oUr minds the rules of the Convent, to compare the one with the other, remember every devotion, and tell all, even the smallest, at con- fession, either to the Superior, or to the priest. My mind was thus kept in a continual state of activity, which proved very weari- some : and it required the constant exertion ot our teachers, to keep us to the practice they inculcate. Another tale recurs to me, of those which were frequently told us, to make us feel the importance of unreserved confession. A nun of our Convent, who had hidden some sin from her confessor, died suddenly, and without any one to confess her. Her sisters assembled to pray for the peace of her soul, when she appeared, and informed them, that it would be of no use, but rather trouble- some to her, as her pardon was impossible. The doctrine is, that prayers made for souls guilty of unconfessed sin, do but sink them deeper in hell ; and this is the reason I have heard given for not praying for Protestants. The authority of the priests in every thing, and the enormity of every act which opposes it, were also impressed upon our minds in various ways, by our teachers. A " Father" told us the following story, one day, at catechism. A man once died who had failed to pay some money which the priest had asked of him ; he wa^ condenuicd to be burnt in pur- 48 MARIA MONK. gatory until he should nay it, hut had permission to come hack to this world, and take a human body to work in. He made his appearance therefore again on earth, and hired himself to a rich man as a labourer. He worked all day with the fire work- ing in him, unseen by other people ; but while he was in bed that night, a girl in an adjoining room perceiving the smell of brim- stone, looked through a crack in the wall, and saw him covered with ^ames. She mformed his master, who questioned him the next morning, and found that his hired man was secretly suffer- ing the pains of purgatory, for neglecting to pay a certain sum of money to the priest. He, therefore, furnished him with the amount due ; it was paid, and the servant went ufl'immediately to heaven. The priest cannot forgive any debt due unto him, because it was the Lord's estate. While at confession I was urged to hide nothing from the priest ; and have been told by them, that they already knew what was in my heart, but would not tell, because it was necessary for ine to confess it. I really believed that the priests were acquainted with mv thoughts ; and often stood in great awe ot them. They often told me tliey had power to strike me dead at any nioment.C") I CHAPTER IX. Nuns with similar names — Squaw Nuns — First Visit to the Cellar — l)e8ori]>> tion of it — Shocking Discovery there — Superior's Instructions — Private Signal of the Priests — Books used in the Nunnery — Opinions expressed of the Bible — Specimens of what I know of the Scriptures. I FOUND that I had several namesakes among the nuns, for there were two others who had already bore away my new name, Saint Eustace. Tiiis was not a solitary case, for there were five Saint Marys, and three Saint Munros, beside two novices of that name. Of my namesakes I have little to say, for they re- {a) In appending notes to this work, our object is to shew a very fearful fact ; and that fact is this — that the Church of Uomo in her principles — in her de- lusions — in her dreadful beguilementa and falscuess — in her blaHphcmies and Idolatries— is the same to this day, where she can carry on her trade of supersti- ^on founded in ignorance. Uoad the following extract from a Lecture delivered at the Beaumont Institution, Mile End Uoad, Jan. 10th, 1861, by the Uov. George Smith, of Poplar : published by Gorbell, Commercial Uoad, East ; and ou p. 19 of it, you find the following : " Now, the theory of the church of Uome is that there ought to be judgment about religion, but that the church ought to judge; that you ought not to judge at ^11 about it ; that you are just to take what the church shall tell you, and believe it thoroughly, simply because the church has said it. That is the theory. ' Aye,' but people are apt to say, ' tnat is hardly the fact now, in the middle of the nineteenth century.' Well, go and talk to any Roman Caitholic that you like. Uo and converse with any man who will be frapk MAKIA MOMK. 43 aeinbleU most of nuns ; being so much cut oflf from intercourse with me and the other sisters, that I never saw anything in them, nor learnt anything about them, worth mentioning. Several of my new companions were squaws, who had taken the veil at difTerent times. They were from some of the Indian settlements in the country, but were not distinguishable by any striking habits of character from other nuns, and were generally not very different in their appearance when in their usual dress, and engaged in their customary occupations. It was evident they were treated with much kindness and lenity by the Superior and the old nuns : and this I discovered was done in order to vender them as well contented and happy in their situation as possible ; and should have attributed the motives for this partiality to their wishing, that they might not influence others to keep away, had I not known they were like ourselves, unable to exert such an influence. And, therefore, I could not satisfy my own mind why this difference was made. Many of the Indians were remarkably devoted to the priests, believing everything they were taught. And as it is represented to be not only a high honor. enough to tell you the truth, and he will admit that it is the real practioe as veil aa the theory. I will give you an instance of it. I was a few years ago in the north of Germany, in that old city of Trevo, of which many, perhaps all, of you have hoard. It was said that a series of miracles had just been performed in the oathedral of that city. Pilgrims flocked in thousands and tens of thousands flroQi every ^rt of Germany, and from every part of continental Europe, to that shrine, and it was said that they were healed. There was an old lady, a princess, who hobbled into the church upon a pair of crutches, and they made her believe (for she was a very nervous woman,) that she was perfectly healed, and contrived help her to hobble out, but as soon as she got outside the church she was un- able to walk. They took the crutches from her, however, and hung them up in the church. I saw them in the cathedral. I stood upon the high altar of that oathedral at Treves, and there 1 saw a frame about four feet in length and three foot in height. It was made of mahogany. The front of it was glazed; and in- side there was a dirty, uncomfortable-looking kind of thing, that they called a bQly coat.' They had inscribed on the case in German, two passages of scripture (for the church can quote scripture when she likes). One was : ^ Now the coat vsLi whole, without seam, wove from the top throughout.' The other text was : ' If I may but touch the hem of his garment I shall be made whole.' And what think you ? To this wretched relic there were myriads of people coming. ' The lame, the halt, and the blind,' were all variously hobbling to this place. If a man had a bad foot, they put it through a hole to touch the coat ; if he had a weak arm, his hand was put in. A great number of things of that kind were done, very ridiculous, and very painful ; aye, very absurd indeed, if they did not in* volve^ a blasphemous enormity. I stood upon that altar a short time after these 80-said miracles had been performed ; and I said to a Roman Catholic gentleman with whom I was travelling at the time, ' What is your opinion of these said miracles?' ' Oh,' said he, ' I have no opinion whatever about them.' I said, ' I marvel at that. Do you hold your judgment in abeyance about them ?' * Tho- roughly so,' said he. ' Why V ' Because the church has not yet pronounced upon them.' I give you my honour for the truthful repetition of the words tnat fell from his lips. ' Then,' I said, ' if the church were to say they were genuine miracles?' ' I should then believe them.' ' And if the church were to say that they are not geuuiue miracles?' ' Then I should believe that they were untrue.' Now, my friends, can you conceive anything more pitiable than an intelligent, rational being, giving up his intellect, his soul, his understanding, thus to be tied and bound, and put under the authority of the church ?" 44 MAKIA MONK. but a real advantage to a family, to liave one of its members become a nun, Indian parents will often pay largo sums of money for the admission of their daughters into a (vonvent. The father of one of the squaws, 1 was told, paid to the Superior nearly her weight in silver on her reception, although he was obliged to sell nearly all his property to raise the money. This he did volun- tarily, because he thought himself overpaid by having the advant- age of her prayers, self-sacrifice, &c., for himself and remainder of his family. The squaws sometimes served to amuse lis; for when we were partially dispirited or glooniv, the Superior would occasionally send them to dress themselves in tnoir Indian garments, which usually excited us to meriment. Among the squaw nims whom I particularly remember, was one of the Soint Hypolites, not the one who figured in a dreadful scene, described in another part of this narrutive, but a woman of far more mild and human character. ("^ Three or four days after my reception; the Superior sent me into the cellar for coal ; and after she had given me directions, I proceeded down a staircase with a lamp in n)y hand. I soon found myself upon the bare earth in a spacious place, so dark that 1 could not at once distinguish its form or size ; but I observ- ed that it had very solid stone walls, and was arched overhead* at no great elevation. Following my directions, I proceeded on- (n) The demoraliaing influencoof tho Homan Calkolio systou) is very nicolv set forth in the following extract from Mr. Geo. Smith's Lecture (of Poplar,) whicu wu have noticed before. Speaking of the advantages of ''The Uiqiit uf 1'kivate Jduoment," he says— "There is a healthful intelligence in the piety of our ago; there is a healthful intelligence in the Protestant mind. I think I could almost determine, when I was in Switzerland, whether I was in a Popish or a Protestant canton by the very look of the people. There was something so squalid, so down- cast, so priest-ridden, about the very attitude of tho Roman Catholics, that one saw from it the economy to which they belonged; and there was such a healthful, noble, intelligent demeanour on the part of the Protestant people, that even the peaitautry stood up in the dignity of their common manhood, and ventured to think and to speak for themselves. What constitutes the diiferunoo between the Scotch and the Irish mind i What constitutes the difturenco between a High- lander of the north, or a poor Paddy from the south or the west of Ireland f It is not want c~ intellect on the part of the Irish ; it is not want of wit ; it is not want of nobleness of feeling ; it is not want of warm-heartedness. Never, never, c robbed of this privilege ; it is above all price, ' lie who steals my purse steals trash— 'twas mine, 'tis his.' and it may be another's; but he who robs mo, or attempts to do so, of the right of private judgment, iJorpetrates a felony upon my mind, uud should be stamped as a robber, by the verdict of the universe." MARIA MONK. 45 wnrds from the loot ol the stoiru, where appeared to he one end of the cellar. After walking ahout fifteen paces, 1 passed three small doors, oit the right, fastened with large iron bolts on the outside, pushed into posts of stonework, and each having a small opening above, covered with a fine grating, secured by a smaller bolt. On n«y left were three similar doors, resembling these, and placed opposite them. Beyond these the space became broader ; the doors evidently closed small compartments, project- ing from the outer wall of the cellar. I soon stepped upon a wooded floor, on which were heaps of wool, coarse linen, and other articloM, ap])arently deposited there for occasional use. I soon crossed the floor, and found the bare earth again under my feet. A little further on, I found the cellar again contracted in size, by a row of closets, or smaller compartments, projecting on each Bide. These were closed by doors of a different description from the first, having a simple fastening, and no opening through them. Just beyond, on the left side, I passed a staircase leading ••D, and then three doors, much resembling those first described, nding opposite three more, on the other side of the cellar, ang passed there, I found the cellar again enlarged as before, and here the earth appeared as if mixed with some whitish sub- stance, which attracted my attention. As I proceeded, I found the whiteness increased, until the surface looked like snow ; and, in u short time, I observed before me a hole dug so deep into the earth that 1 could perceive no bottom. I stopped to ooserve it — it was circular, twelve, perhaps, or fifteen feet across ; in the middle of the cellar, and unprotected by any kind of curb, so that one might have easily have walked into it in the dark. The white substance which I had observed, was spread all over the surface around it, and lay in such quantity on all sides, that it seemed as if a great deal of it must have been throw into the hole. It immediately occurred to me that the white substance was lime, and that this was the place where the infants were buried after being murdered, as the Superior informed me. I knew that lime is often used by Roman Catholics in burying places ; and in this way, I accounted fur its being scattered about the spot in such quantities. This was a shocking thought to me, but I can hardly tell how it affected me, as I had already been prepared to ex^iect dreadful tlungs in the Convent ; and had undergone trials which prevented me from feeling as I should formerly have done in similar circumstances . I passed the spot, therefore, with dreadful thoughts, it is true, about the little corpse? which might be in that secret burying place : but with recollec- tions also of the declarations which I had heard about the favour done their souls in sending them straight to heaven, and the necessary virtues accompanying all the actions of the priests. ■ ■JJiJiJ^','1' ' 46 MARIA MOKK. mi Whether I vioticed them or not, at the time, there is a window or two on each, nearly against the hole, in at which are Mmetimes thrown articles bro*jght to them from without, for the use of the Convent. Through the window on my right, which opens into the yard, towards the cross Street, lime is received from carts ; I then saw a large heap of It near the place. Passing the hole, I came to a spot where was another projec- tion on each side, with three cells like those I iirst desoibed. Beyond them, in another broad part of the cellar were heaps of vegetables, and other things ; on the right and on the left I found the charcoal I was in search of. Thia was placed in a heap against the wall, as I might then have observed, near a small high window, like the rest, at which it is thrown in, Beyond this spot, at a short distance, the cellar terminated. (") The top, quite to that point, is arched overhead, though at diderent heights ; for the earth on the bottom is uneven, and in (n) The Taking op the iNQCisitiON at Madrid; with a FtJtT, T/li- COTEBT OF ITS DENS, INSTHUMENTS OF TORTUBE, AND THE STATE P'/ ITS Unhappy V^ictims when found, is given by Edward Smith, in his now work just published by Aylott and Jou«a, entitled The Detolations of the Abominationt, 4c., of which the following is a correct copy, — " As proof of the unchangeable character of the votaries of Rome, the taking of the Inquisition at Madrid in 1809 may bo qnoted. €ol. Lehmanowsky, the officer who was employed to demolish It, had spoken rather freely of the priests and Jesuits and of the Inquisition, which en- dangered his life; he being one night nea!i-ly taken by some guards of the In- quisition. He then went to Marshal Soult, the Governor of Madrid, and reminded nim of the Emperor Napoleon's decree to suppress the institution. Marshal Soalt replied that he might go and destroy it, and granted him the troops ho relacc through which it escaped. This Was dune, much to the diesati'ifaction of the inquisitors ; and after careful examination, it was found that the wuier passed through fast by the side of ono of the marble slabs, as though there was an Opening beneath. All hands were now at work for fartheir MARIA MONK. i1 some places several feet higher than in others. Not liking to be A\6n^ in so spacious and gloomy a part of the Convent, especially after the discovery I had made, I hastened to fill my basket with coal, and to return. Here then I was in a place which I had considered r.: the near- est imitation of heaven to be found on earth, among a society where deeds were perpetrated which I had believed to he most criminal, ^nd had now found the place in which harmless infants were un- feelingly thrown out of sight, aflt-r being murdered. And yet, such is the power of instruction and example, although not satis- fied, as many around me seemed to be, that this was all righteous and proper, i sometimes was half inclined to believe it, for the priests could do no sin, and this was done by the priests. iffr discoTery, while the priests remonstrated against onr desecrating their holy and beautiful house. While thus engaged, a soldier struck a spring with the butt of his musket, and the slab flew up. Then the faces of the inquisitors grew pale as nelshazzar when the handwriting appeared on the wall : they trembled all over. Beneath the marble slab there was a staircase. I took a candle from the altart four feet in length, that I might explore the room below. As I was doing this, I was arrested by one of the inquisitors, who laid his hand gently on my arm, and with a very demure and holy look, said, ' My son, you must not take these lights with your bloody hands : they are holy.' ' Well,' I said, ' I will take a holy thing to shed light on iniquity ;' and proceeded down the staircase. As we reached the foot of the stairs, we entered a large square room, which was called the TIali of Judgment. In the centre of it was a large block, and a chain fastened to it. On this they had been accustomed to place the accused, chained to his seat. On one side of the room was an elevated seat, called the throne of Judgment, for the inquisitor-general; and on either side were seats, less elevated, for the holy fatners when engaged in the solemn business of the Holy Inquisition. From thU room we prqcf^ed to the right, aiid obtained access to small cells, extending the entire length of the edifice ; add here such sights were preocnted as we hoped never to see a^ain. These cells were places of solitary confinement, where the wretched ot^ects of inquisitorial hate were confined year after year, till death re- leased them from their sufferings ; and there their bodies were suffered to remain until they were entirely decayed, and the rooms bad become fit for others to occupy. To prevent this being offeasive to those who ocoupied the Inquisition, there were flues or tubes extending to the open air, sufficiently capacious to carry off the odour. In these cells we found the remains of some who had paid the debt of nature ; some had been dead but a short time, while of others, nothing remained but their bones, still chained to the floor of their dungeon. In other cells, we found living sufferers of both sexes, and of every age. from three-soore years and ten down to fourteen or fifteen years — all naked as wnen born into the world, and all in chains! The soldiers immediately went to work to release these oaJ.^ives from their chains, and took from their knapsacks clothing to cover them. They were exceedingly anxious to brin^ them out to the light of day; but the Colonel, aware of the danger, had food given them, and then brought them gradually to the light, as they wore able to bear it. We then proceeded to explore another room, on the left. Uere wc found the instruments of torture, of every kind which the ingenuity of men or devils could invent. Col. L. here described four of these horrid instruments. The first was a machine by which the victim was confined, and then, beginning with the fingers, every joint in the hands, arms, and body was broken or drawn out, one afuir another, until the victim died. The second was a box, in whiuh the head and neck of the victim were so closely confined by a screw, that he could not movo in any way. Over the box was a vessel, fh)iB whioh one drop of water a second fell upon the head of the victim — every suc- oesstve drop falling upon precisely the same place on the head, suspended the circulation in a few moments, and put the sufferer in the most excruciating agony. The third was an infernal luacLine, laid horizontally, to which the victim was bound ; the machine then being placed between two beams, in which were scores of knives so fixed that, by turning the machine with a crank, the flesh of the ■^ 48 MARIA MONK. Among the first instructions I received from the Superior, were such as prepared me to admit priests into the nunnery, from the street, at irregular hours. It is no secret that priests enter and go out ; but if they were to be watched by any person in St. PauPs- street all day long, no ^regularity might be suspected ; and they might be supposed to visit the Convent for the performance of re- ligious ceremonies merely. But if a person were near the gate about midnight, he might sometimes form a different opinion : for when a stray priest is shutout of the Seminary, or is otherwise put in the need of seeking a lodging, he is always sure of being admitted into the Black Nunnery. Nobody but a priest can even ring the bell at the sick-room door ; much less can any but a priest gain admittance. The null of the bell is entirely concealed, some- where on the outside of the gate I have been told. He makes himself known as a priest by a peculiar kind of hissing sound, mo. ^e by the tongue against the teeth while they are kept closed an'I the lips open. The nun within, who delays to open the door until informed what kind of an applicant is there, immediately re- cognizes the signal, and replies with two inarticulate sounds, such as are often used instead of yes, with the mouth closed. The Superior seemed to consider this part of my instructions aufforer was torn from his limbs all in small pieces. The fourth surpassed the others for fiendish ingenuity. Its exterior was a beautiful woman, richly dressed, with arms extended, ready to embi-ace its Tictim. Around her feet a semi-circle was drawn. The victim who pasosd over this fatal mark, touched a spring, which caused the diabolical engine to open; its arms clasped him, and a thousand knives cut him into as many pieces in the deadly embrace. Colonel L. said, that the sight oi these engines of infernal cruelty kindled the rage of the soldiers to ftiry. They declared that every inquisitor and soldier of the Inquisition should be put to the torture. Their rage was ungovernable. Colonel L. did not oppose them, the^ might have turned their arms against him, if be had attempted to arrest their work. They began with the holy fathers. The first they put to death in the machine for breaking joints. The torture of the inquisitor, put to death by the dropping of water on his head, was most excruciating. The inquisitor- general was brought before the infernal engine, called the ' Virgin.' He begs to be excnsed. 'No,' said they, 'you have caused ethers to kiss her, and now yovL must do it.' They interlocked their bnyonets so as to fonn large forks, and with these pushed him over the deadly circle. The beautiful image in- stantly prepared for the embrace, claspe^l him in its arms, and he was cut iato innumerable pieces. Colonel L. said that ho witnessed the torture of four of thom — his heart sickened at the awful scene— and he left the soldiers to wreak their vengeance on the last guilty inmate of that prison-house of hell. In ^he meantime, it was reported through Madrid, that the prisons of the Inquiai^ion were broken open, and multitudes hastened to the spot. It was like a resurrCiition ! About a hundred, who had been buried for many years, were now restored to life. There were fathers, who found their long-lost daughters ; wives were restored to their husbands, sisters to their brothers, and parents to their children ; and there were some who could recognize no friend among the multitude. The seene was such as no tongue can describe. When the multitude had retired, Colonel L. caused the library, paintings, furniture, te. to be removed; and having sent to the city for a waggon load of powder, deposited a large quantity in the vaults be- neath the building, and placed a slow match in connexion with it. All had withdrawn to a distance ; and in a few moments there was a joyful sight to tb.oasaads. The walls and turrets of the massive structure rose majestically towards the heavens, impelled by the tremendous explosion, and fell back to the earth an immense heap of ruins." MARIA MONK. 49 quite important, and taught me the signals. I had often occasion to use them ; I have been repeatedly called to the door, in the night, whih watching in the sick-room ; and on reaching it, heard the short busing sound I have mentioned ; then, according to standing orders, unfastening a door, admitted a priest, who was at liberty to go when he pleased. I will name Mr. Bierze, from St. Denis. The book3 used in the nunnery, at least such as I recollect of them, were the following. Most of these are lecture books, or such as are used by the daily readers, while we are at work and meals. These were all furnished by the Superior, out of her library, to which we never had access. She was informed vy.hen we had done with one book, and then exchanged it for 'such another as she pleased to select. Le Miroir du Chretien (Chris- tian Mirror,) History of Rome, History of the Church, Life of Soeur Bourgeoise, (founder of the Convent,) in two volumes, Z' jinge Conducteur (the Guardian Angel,) Z' Ange Chretien, (the Christian Angel,) Les Vies des Saints, (Lives of the Saints) in several volumes. Dialogues, a volume consisting of conversations between a Protestant Doctor, called Dr. D. and a Roman Catholic clergyman, on the articles of faith, in which, after much ingenious reasoning, the former was confuted. One large book, the name of which I have forgotten, occupied us nine or ten months at our lectures, night and morning P Instruction de la Jeunex^p, (the instruction of Youth,) containing much about Convents <\ the education of persons in the world, with a great deal on confes- sion, &c. Examen de la Conscience^ (Examination of Conscience,) is a book frequently used. I may here remark, that I never saw a bible in the Convent, from the day I entered as a novice, until that on which I effected my escape. The Catholic New Testament, commonly called the Evangile, was read to us two or three times a year. The Supe- rior directed the reader what passage to select ; but we never had it in our hands to read when we pleased. I often heard the Protestant Bible spoken of in bitter terms, as a most dangerous book, and one which never ought to be in the hands of common people. MARIA MONK. CHAPTER X Manufacture of Bread and Wax Candles, carried on in the Convent — Super- stitions — Scapularies — Virgin Mary's Pincussion — Her House — The Bishop's Power over Fire — My instruction to Novices — Jane Ray — Vacillation of feeling. Large quantities of bread are made in the Black Nunnery every week ; for, besides what is necessary to feed the nuns, many of the poor are supplied. When a priest wishes to give a loaf of bread to a poor person, he gives him an order, which is presented at the Convent. The making of bread is, therefore, one of the most laborious employments in the institution. The manufacture of wax candles was another important branch of business in the nunnery. It was carried on in a small room, on the first floor, thence called the ciergerie, or wax room, cierge being the French word for wax. I was sometimes sent to read the daily lecture and catechism to the nuns employed there, but found it a very unpleasant task ; as the smell rising from the melted wax gave me a sickness at the stomach. The employ- ment was considered as rather unhealthy, and those were assigned to it who had the strongest constitutions. The nuns who were commonly employed in that room, were Saint Marie, Saint Catherine, Saint Charlotte, Saint Frances, Snint Hyacinthe, Saint Hypolite, and others. But with these, as with other persons in the Convent, I was never allowed to speak, except under circumstances before mentioned. I was sent to read, and was not allowed to answer the most trivial question, if one were asked me. Should a nun say, " What o'clock is it ?" I never should have dared to reply, but was required to report I r to the Superior, Much stress was laid on the sainte scapula ire, or holy scapulary. This is a small band of cloth or silk, formed and wrought in a particular manner, to be tied around the neck, by two strings fastened to the ends. 1 have made many of them ; having bean sometimes sent to make them in the Convent. On one side is worked a kind of double cross (thus, ++) and on the other I. H. S., the meaning of which I do not exactly know. Such a band is called a scapulary, and many miracles are attributed to its power. Children, on first receiving the communion, are often presented with scapularies, which they are taught to regard with great re- verence. We are told of the wonders effected by their means, in the addresses made to us, by priests, at catechism or lectures. 1 will repeat one or two of the stories which occur to me. MARIA MONK. 61 A Roman Catholic servant woman, wlio liad concealed some of her sins at confession, acted so hypocritical a part as to make her mistress believe her a devotee, or strict observer of her duty. She even imposed upon her confessor to such a degree, that he gave her a scapulary. After he had given it, however, one of the saints in heaven informed him in a vision, that the holy scapulary must not remain on the neck of so great a sinner, and that it must be restored to the church. The belief was, that the devil could not endure to have so holy a thing on one of his servants, and had pulled so hard to get it off, as to draw the biiken thread, with which it was tied, through her neck ; after which, by some divine power, it was restored to the church. Another story was as follows. A poor Roman Catholic was once taken prisoner by the heretics. He had a saini*s scapulaire on his neck, when God, seeing him in the midst of his foes, took it from the ne6k by a miracle, and held it up in the air above the throng of heretics ; more than one hundred of whom were con- verted, by seeing it thus supernaturally suspended. I had been informed by the Superior, on my first admission as a nun that there was a subterranean passage leading from the cellar of our Convent into that of the Congregational Nunnery ; but, though I have so often visited the cellar, I had never seen it. One day, after I had been received three or four months, I was sent to walk through it on my knees, with another nun, as a pe- nance. This, and other penances, were sometimes put upon us by the priests, without any reason assigned. The common way, indeed, was to tell us of the sin for which a penance was imposed, but were left many times to conjecture. Now and then the priest would inform us at a subsequent confession, when he happened to recollect something about it, as I thought, and not because he reflected or cared much upon the subject. The nun who was with me led through the cellar, passing to the right of the secret burial-place, and showed me the door of the subterranean passage, which was at the extremity towards the Congregational Nunnery. The reasons why I had not noticed it before, I presume were, that it was made to shut close and even with the wall ; and all that part of the cellar was whitewashed. This door, which is of wood, and square, opens with a latch into a passage about four feet and a half high. We immediately got upon our knees, commenced saying the prayers required, and be- gan to move slowly along the dark and narrow passage. It may be fifty or sixty feet in length. When we reached the end, we opened a door, and found ourselves in the cellar of the Congre- gational Nunnery, at some distance from the outer wall ; for the covered way is carried in towards the middle of the cellar, by ■r| •h ''$ 5« MARIA MONK. two low partitions covered at the top. By the side of the door, was placed a list of names of the Black Nuns, with a slide that might be drawn over any of them. We covered our names in this manner, as evidence of having performed the duty assigned us ; and then returned downwards, on our knees, by the way we had come. This penance I repeatedly performed afterwards ; and by this way, as I have occasion elsewhere to mention, nuns from the Congregational Nunnery sometimes entered our Convent for worse purposes. ("^ We were frequently assured, that miracles are still performed ; and pains were taken to impress us deeply on this subject. The (a) In Dr. Achilli's excellent work entitled " Dealings with the Inquisition," published by Arthur Hall and Co: under the head of "The Inquisition in the Nineteenth Centcry," we find the following striking facts recorded to prove that cruelty, barbarity, idolatry, and wickedness, are still practised by the Church of Rome. This note may seem out of place here ; but we wish to back up not merely Maria Monk's statements, but the whole Protestant force against the Papal agression. The fact is, we are resolved, in the strength of the Lord, to do all we can to expoie the crafty foe, the Lord alone can conquer him ; and this ho has promised to do. Dr. A. (on page 97) says, — " I do not know what to think of the impudence of a certain writer, unquestionably not an ordinary personage, who, a short time ago, published an article in the ' Dublin Review,' July 1850, entitled 'The Inquisition,' the object of which was to persuade the world that, after all, this Inquisition, respecting which so much unjust clamour (!) had been raised, contained nothing but what might honestlv be considered necessary for the present state of society and the interests of religion. Every religion, it was stated, had been intolerant. What by us, in the present day, is denominated intolerance, ' entered into the very spirit of the Jewish religion.' (P. 423.) The learned writer, who, by the way, we verily believe to be aftSts present time a cardinal, and, to his shame, an Englishman, leads the reader to the conclusion that the Almighty himself, the true founder of the JewiaV r^eion, has coun- tenanced intolerance. lie then proceeds to observe : ' Of the fi^Wsreat religions which divided the Gentile world— the Greek, the Roman, the Egyptian, the Per- sian, and the Indian — there is not one which can claim exemption from the charge.' (lb.) His inference, therefore, is, that it is no wonder that Christianity also is in a similar state : and this involves the farther conclusion that Chris- tianity itself, in this respect, is a system of religion similar to these five great religious systems whieh divided the pagan world. This is the doctrine held out to us by a Cardinal Archbishop !. Like the preceding religions, Christianity, according to him, has always been more or less intolerant. With respect to papacy, it is most true that in practice it has always been more or less so, but in theory it has been always the same. In fact, Thomas Aquinas, the leading theologian and doctor of the Church of Rome, lays down the following doctrine, which his Eminence and others of his school seem very ready to act upon. ' It is,' says he, ' much more grievou *o corrupt faith, which is the source and life of the soul, than to corrupt money, which but tends to the relief of the body. Hence, if coiners and other malefactors are justly put to death by the secular authority, much more may heretics not only be excommunicated, but even Joatly nit to death.' For example, if you, reader, a Christian of intelligent mind, should deny that the bread and the wine, in conseciuence of a few words uttered over them, should cease to be actually broad and wine — you, in that case, have cor- rupted the faith of the Thomasine school, which is that of the Church of Home; and the reverend Inquisitor speedily lays hold of you, with sufficient argument before him to condemn you to death, for the glory of God. These barbarities were formerly common in Spain and Italy ; but now ! !— Is the theory of the Church of Rome. I ask, still in favour of these practices? I ask, whether it be possible for Cardinal W , who is an Englisuman, to renounce this doctrine, and at the same time remain consistent to bis principles? Is it not manifestly a con- MAKIA MO^K. 5S (P Superior often spoke to us of the Virgiu Mary's pihcushion, the remains of which are pretended to be preserved in the Convent, though it has crumbled quite t.o the dust. We regarded this tradiction ? It is hia duty, (the Bishops swear to observe the laws of the Inqui- 8ition,) then as a Roman Catholic, and an Archbishop, to condemn you to death, whenever he may have the power so to do, if you refuse to believe that the bread and the wine, over which the priest has breathed the words, ' Hoe e$t eorpm tneum,' have not forthwith ceased to be bread and wine. Yes, his Eminence, faithful to his oath, and sanctioned by the theological and legal decision of the Thomasine doctors, must of necessity consign you to the flames. Are flames no longer resorted to, as attracting too vividly the attention of the public? It matters not; poison will get rid of a heretic equally well, and more secretly. The reverend Jesuits, Busemban, Sa, Escobar, and others, readily give their vote to that effect. When, in the year 1842, 1 was for the first time delivered over to the InquisitioUj the General of the Dominicans, the oldest of the Inquisitors, (Father Ancarani, an Inquisitor of forty-five years standing,) exclaimed before the council : ' This heretic,' speaking of myself, ' we had better bum him alive.' Such was the humanity of one who had grown grey among the corruptions and evil practices of his profession ! His proposition, however, was not seconded, it being the first time I had been accused; but what might not have been my fate if this old man had been living, and appointed to judge me in the year 1850? In fact, I heard last year, whilst 1 was in liome, that another of these precious theologians, less fierce and furious than the Dominican, suggested a more moderate proceeding, in the following terms : — ' I should advise that Achilli be so dealt with as to prevent the possibility of his ever troubling us any more.' (This, most reverend personage is a man of mild temper, apparently incapable of cruelty. Ue was at that time one of the Counsellors of the Inquisition.) This, unquestionably, evinced no intention of setting me at liberty. And at a later period, after I haid written my letters to the Pope, and published many other things in opposition to the Romish doctrines, the same monsignore, speaking of me to one of his adherents, who was more my friend than his, observed : ' I was right in the advice I gave in 1842, that Achill^^jJipuld be so dealt with as to prevent the possibility of his ever troubling us any toore. Had it been followed, wo should not have had the present annoyance. And who knows what worse he may not have in store for us?'' What, then, ia^he Inquisition of the nineteenth century ? The same system of intolerance wlmh prevailed in the barbarous ages. That which raised the Crusade, and roused all Europe to arms at the voice of a monk, (Bernard of Chiaravalle,) and of a hermit, (Peter the Hermit). That which— in the name of a God of peace, manifested on earth by Christ, who, through love for sinners, gave himself to be crucified — brought slaughter on the Albigenses and the Waldenses; filled France with desolation, under Domencioo, di Guzman; raised in Spain the fune- ral pile and the scaffold, devastating the fair kingdoms of Granada and Castile, through the assistance of those detestable monks, llaimond de Pennefort, Peter Arbues, and Cardinal Torquemada. That which, to its eternal infamy, registers in the annals of France the fatal 24th of August, and the 5th of November in those of England. That same system which at this moment flourishes in Rome, which has never yet been either worn out or modified, and which, at this present time, in the jargon of the priests, is called ' the Holy, Roman, Universal, Apos- tolic Inquisition.' Holy, as the place where Christ was crucified is holyj Apos- tolic, because Judas Iscariot was the first Inquisitor; Roman and Universal, because from Rome it extends over all the world. Here, then, we see the Roman Inqillsifion extending into the most remote countries. In India, for example — who would ever believe that the Inquisition was at work there ? So far from Rome? in the dominions of the English ! The bare assertion would meet with ridicule. 'Oh! the Inquisition in India! No, no, we cannot believe that. In name, indeed, it may bo there, but never in actual reality.' Fortunately, how- ever^ I have a letter by me, which I received in this countrj; in March last. The original has been seen by many persons ; among others, by Sir Culling E. Eardley, through whom, indeed, I received it. It came to hand very opportunely. It is written in English, and, if not elegant in its phraseology, it is at least sincere, and to be depended upon- It is as follows :—' Dear and Reverend Sir,— I hope you will excuse me, if li who am a stranger to you, take the liberty to 54 MAKIA MONK. m relic with such veneration, that we were afraid even to look at it; and we often heard the following story related when the subject was introduced. — " A priest in Jerusalem once had a vision, in which he was address you the present letter. But the same God who delivered you from the brutal hands of your persecutors, (for which I congratulate you,) has given me courage to rise from my lethargy in which I was; and, kneeling before bis presence, I heard a voice, saying. Write to Mr. A. [Achilli] for advice, and fly again from this Babylon. Therefore, full of confidence, I take the pen, in order to relate to you all my story. ' I am a Roman Catholic priest, and, as soon as I was ordained, being very anxious to preach the gospel to poor Ilindoos, I left Rome, on the 2nd of March, 1840, being then twenty-three years of age, and was sent by Propaganda Fide to India ; and there, being able to speak the English language, I was appointed, by the Roman Catholic bishop of Bombay, as mili- tary chaplain, and was sent to a military camp at Belgaum, where I was a very zealous and bigoted Roman Catholic priest, till God was pleased to open my eyes in the following manner: A Protestant clergymen of the Church of Scotland, named Taylor, celebrated the marriage ccremouy to two Catholics; and this hurt my feeling very much ; therefore I thought it my duty to write him a letter in very impolite (as the style does not interfere with the sense, it has not been deemed necessary to correct the foreign idioms in this letter,) manner, as is tbe custom of all Roman Catholic priests to do, to which he answered very kindly, and sent me also some Protestant books to read;— of course I refused to read them, and I returned them to him. But God put it into his heart to call as he did on me. He spoke to me a new language which I had never before heard ;— it was the language of a true Christian — (how a sinner is justified before God). This language, by the grace of God touched my heart in such a manner that I tuck a Protestant book and began to read. It was ' The Spirit of the Papacy,' which opened my eyes, and I began to per- ceive the errors of the Church of Rome. Then, quite another man, I opened the Holy Bible, and confirmed myself that the Catholic religion is in perfect contradiction to the word of God, and that the Protestant Church was the Church in which God called me; therefore I opened my mind to the R«v. Mr. Jackson, who was the military Protestant chaplain at Belgaum, and a great friend of mine. He advised me to write to Dr. Carr, bishop of Bombay, which I did ; And his Lordship was pleased to answer mo in a very polite manner, begging me to write my sentiments about the real presence of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Sacrament, and a treatise on the spiritual power of the Pope, which 1 also did; and then he wrote to me to go to Bombay, where I embraced the Pro- testant religion, that is to say the pure religion of the Gospel, A Spanish Jesuit priest, named Francis Xavier Serra, whom I never saw before, called on me, in a secular dress ; and, speaking the Italian language well, he told mo that he was an Italian layman, and having heard that I was an Italian too, he called on me : but he did not mention any thing about religion, saying be did not care about it ;— and he was very kind to me. He called on me four or five times ; till one day, being a very agreeable evening, he begged me to take a round with him, which I did. And we wont near the Catholic church, and, to my great surprise, I was taken by four men, and forced to go to the vicar-general, where they forced me to write a letter to the Protestant minister, Mr. Valentine, in whose house I lived, stating my intention to return to the Catholic religion ; which, 1 am very sorry to say, I did. They then closed me in a room, till Sunday, when the vicar took me by force to the pulpit, and dictated to mc what I was to say to tha^congregation ; and he obliged me to declare that I left the Catholic religion for worldly motives ; which was quite contrary to my sentiments. When night came, they took me from the room in which 1 was closed, and delivered me to a captain of a French ship, as a prisoner, with the order to take care of me to Marseilles, where he delivered me to the bishop, who, with a French priest, sent me to Rome. From Rome I was sent, as a punishment, to a convent at Perugia, where I remained for five years, till I got again my liberty, and returned to Rome ; this was in November 1848. I am sure, Sir, you are not surprised to hear the treachery made to me at Bombay by that Jesuit, and by the vicar. Besides you must know that the vicar, whose name is Father Miohcle i;f< MARIA MONK. 55 informed that the house in which the virgin had lived should be removed from its foundations, and transported to a distance. He did not think the communication was from God, and therefore disregarded it ; but the house was soon after missed, which con- vinced him that the vision was true, and he told where the house might be found. A picture of the house is preserved in the nunnery, and was sometimes shown us. There are also wax figures of Joseph sawing wood, and Jesus as a child, picking up the chips. We were taught to sing a little song relatmg to this, the chorus of which I remember ; Saint Joaeph charpentier, Petit Jesus ramassait les copeaux Pour fair houiUir la marmite !" ■J ■i (St. Joseph was a carpenter, little Jesus collected chips to make the pot boil.) I began to speak of miracles, and I recollect a story of one, about a family in Italy saved from shipwreck by a a priest, who were in consequence converted, and had two sons honoured with the priest's office. I had heard before I entered the convent about a great fire which had destroyed a number of houses in the Quebec suburbs, and which some said the Bishop extinguished with holy water. I once heard a Catholic and a Protestant disputing on this sub- ject; and when I went to the Congregational Nunnery, I some- times heard the children, alluding to the same story, say, at an alarm of fire, '♦ Is it a Catholic fire ? Then why does not the Bishop run ?" Among the topics on which the Bishop addressed the nuns in the Convent, this was one. He told us the story one day, that he could have sooner interfered and stopped the flames, but that Antonio, for his bad character, had been put in gaol for six months, by the British Government at Uombay. Now, Sir, I live in a most miserable estate of mind, being Uom my heart a Protestant, yet lam obliged to observe the Roman Catholic forms ; which is quite contrary to my feelings. I am very sorry that I had not in India the Christian courage which you have demonstrated just now in Home : but you must know that they threatened me with brutal menaces, and that I was too young. I am at present firmly resolved to fly from this Babylon, and embrace again the pure doctrine of the Gospel ; to remain in the faith, by the grace of God, till my death, and to preach it throughout the world. I have the honour, &c., Vour Brother in Jesus Christ, N. N. Rome, the 26th Feb. 1850.' This adventure at Bombay proves that the Inquisition is not only in existence, but sufficiently daring to carry on its operations even within the British domin- ions : and we see the manner in which it acts. In Bombay, the recantation of this poor priest is all that is known (as an English missionary, who was there, at the time, told me) : it was said, indeed, that he had siuce left the country} . but no one knew of the treachery of the .lesuit, or of the tricks of the AP^tfM'' vicai-. Similar events occur more or less frequently in various , fiaft* Ifftuo world." ■ ■te^^' 56 MAKIA MONK. V at last, finding they were about to destroy too many Catholic houses, he threw holv water on the fire, and extinguished it. I believed this, and also thought he was able to put out any fire, but that he never did it, except when inspired. The holy water which the Bishop had consecrated was con- sidered much more efficacious than any blessed by a common priest; and this it was which was used in the convent in sprinkling in our beds. It had virtue in it, to keep off any evil spirits. Now that I was a nun, I was occasionally sent to read lectures' to the novices, as other nuns had been while I was a novice. There were but few uf us who were thought capable of reading English well enough, and, therefore, I was more frequently sent than I might otherwise have been. The superior often said to me, as I was going among the novices : " Try to convert them — save their souls — you know you will have a higher place in heaven for every one you convert." For whatever reason, mad Jane Ray seemed to take great delight in crossing and provoking the Superior and old nuns ; and often she would cause an interruption when it was most inconvenient and displeasing to them. The preservation of silence was insisted upon rigidly, and penances of such a nature were imposed for breaking it, that it was a constant source of uneasi- ness with me, to know that I might infringe the rules in so many ways, and that inattention might at any moment subject me to something very unpleasant. During the periods of meditation, therefore, and those of lecture, work, and repose, I kept a strict guard upon myself to escape penances, as well as to avoid sin ; and the silence of the others, convinced me that they were equally watchful, and from the same motives. My feelings, however, varied at different times, and so did those of many, if not all my companions, excepting the older ones, who took their turns in watching us. We sometimes felt disposed for gaiety, and threw off all idea that talking was sinful, even when required by the rules of the Convent. And even when I felt that I might perhaps be doing wrong, I reflected that confession, and certainly penance, would soon wipe off the guilt. I may remark here, that I ere long found out several things important to be known to a person living under such rules. One of these was, that it was much better to confess to a priest a sin committed against the rules, because he would not require one of the penances 1 most disliked, viz., those which exposed me to the observation of the nuns, or which demanded self> debasement before them, like begging their pardon, kissing the floor or the % MARIA MONK. 57 Superior's feet, &c., and besides, he, as a confessor, was bound to secrecy, and could not inform the Superior against me. My conscience being as effectimlly unburthened by confession to the priest, as I had been taught to believe, therefore I preferred not to tell my sins to any one else; and this course I found was pre- preferred by others for the same good reasons. To Jane Ray, however, it sometimes appeared to be a matter of perfect indifference, who knew her violation of rule, or to what penance she exposed herself. Often and often, while perfect silence prevailed among the nuns, at meditation, or while nothing was to be heard except the voice of the reader appointed for the day, no matter whose life or writings were presented for our contemplations, Jane would break forth with some remark or question, that would attract general attention, and often cause a long and total interruption. Sometimes she would make some harmless remark or enquiry aloud, as if through mere inadvertency ; and then her loud and well known voice, so strongly associated with every thing singu- lar and ridiculous, would arrest the attention of us all, and gene- rally incline us to smile, and even force us to laugh. The Supe- rior would then usually utter some hasty remonstrance, and many a time I have heard her pronounce some penance upon her ; but Jane had ever some apology ready, or some reply calculated to irritate us still farther, or to prove to every one that no punish- ment would be effectual on her. Sometimes this singular woman would appear to be actuated by different feelings and motives ; for although she usually delighted in drawing others into difficulty, and has thrown many a severe penance even upon her greatest favourites, on other occasions she appeared totally regardless of consequences herself, and preferred to take all the blame, anxious only to shield others. I have repeatedly known her to break silence in the community, as if she had no oDJect, or none beyond that of causing disturb- bance, or exciting a smile, and as soon as it was noticed, exclaim, " Say it's me, say it's me." Sometimes she would even expose herself to punishments in place of anoAer who was guilty ; and thus I found it difficult fully to understand her. In some cases she seemed decidedly out of her wits, as the Superior and priests commonly preferred to represent her ; but generally I saw in her what prevented me from counting her insane. Amongst her most common tricks were such as these:— she gave me the name of the "Devout English Reader," because I was often appointed to make the lec- ture to the English girls ; and sometimes, after taking a seat near me, under pretence of deafness, would whisper in my hearing, 58 MARIA MONK. because she knew my want of self-command Mrheu excited tu laughter. Thus she often exposed me to penances for a breach of decorum, and set me to bitmg my lips, to avoid laughing out- right in the midst of a solemn lecture. *' Oh ! you devout English Reader !" would sometimes come upon me suddenly from her lips, with something in it so ludicrous, that I had to exert myself to the utmost to avoid observation. This came so often at one time, that I grew uneasy, and told her I must confess it, to unburden my conscience. I had not done so before, because she would complain of me for giving way to temptation. Sometimes she would pass behind us as we stood at dinner ready to sit down, and softly moving back our chairs, leave us to fall down upon the floor. This she repeatedly has done ; and while we were laughing together, she would spring forward, kneel to the Superior, and beg her pardon and a penance. ;?:> CHAPTER XL Alarming Order from the Superior — Proceed to execute it — Scene in an upper Room — Sentence of Death and Murder — My own Distress — Reports made to Friends of St. Frances. But I must now come to one deed in which I had some part, and which I look back upon with greater horror and pain than any occurrence in the Convent, in which I was not the principal sufferer. It is not necessary for me to attempt to excuse myself in this or any other case. Those who have any dis)K)sition to judge fairly, will exercise their own judgment in making allow- ances for me, under the fear and force, the command and exam- ples before vae.W I, therefore shall confine myself, as usual, to (6) The awfully debased and degraded state of society, where the word of God is rejected, and Popish delusions countenanced, may be seen, in some measure, from the following facts. The Rev. Carius Wilson, in his work before referred to, and which is one of deep interest, says, — " I heard an anecdote of a married couple, who had lived for some time very unhappily. The husband at last at- tempted to murder the wife ; and she escaped to her own friends, who took up tho cause, and the man was put in prison. It is customary for justice to yield to mero^, whenever the injured party intercedes for the aggressor. Tho husband's relatives therefore came and implored the wife to exert her prerogative, and bog the life of her husband. She seemed resolved that he should die, and it was long before she would listen to any proposal for releasing him. Her relations at last joined her husband's, and made the same request; when, overpowered by their united entreaties, she consented to implore his release. Tho next attempt made by their united families was to persuade tho wife to return to her husband's house; and she at length yielded to their solicitations and hia promises of future kindness, and a day was fixed for her return. Tho husband, atl^uded by his relations, and the wife by her's, met at an appointed place. The sight of MARIA MONK. 59 the simple narration of facts. The time was about five months after I took the veil ; the weather was cool, perhaps in September or October ; one day tlie Superior sent for me and several other nuns, to receive her commands at a particular room. Wo found hor husband reviyed affootion in her bosom, and she rushed forward to his arms, ' Take that,* said he, in a tone of savafro revenge, and she sank on the ground, whilst the dagger he had plunged into her breast gave the death blow. No attempt wan made by any of the attendants to secure the murderer. ' Poor fellow, lot him go!' was the only observation; whilst a way was opened to faoi- litate his flight. This want of moral feeling is not to be wondered at where the Word of (to ) is so hid, that the true light never shineth, and where 'men love darkness n 1 1< ur than light, because their deeds are evil.' The above anecdote I believe to bu true, as it was related b^ the Rev. J. H — ,a gentleman of great integrity, who was at that time chaplain to the British Factory in Lisbon. He also gave an acootint of the way in which persons were despatched in a more private manner, l)y moans of a ' bravo.' And I am willing to narrate this cir- oumstanoo, as it throws moro light upon the degraded tono of moral feeling, as well as upon the deluded state of many, not, I fear, only in Portugal, but also in other countries, where there is that greatest of all famines, ' not a famine of breed, nor a thirst uf water, but of hearing the word of the Lord.' A young Knglishman of family and fortune, had a quarrel one night with a Portuguese nobleman, at the Upura House. He sent him a challenge the following morning, which the nublomau refused to accept. The young Englishman received this refusal wlioii m a dinner party, where he drank too freely ; and on his return to his lodginKs, \. IS observed bv his French valet to be much out of humour. The servant tr '•inir dvautivge of his master's state of excitement from intoxication, ventured tu n k what had disturbed him ? When he named the afih>nt he had received from the Portuguese, and his refusal to fight, the French servant added fuel to the iiamo, and urged revenge. His master did not at first underbtand his drift ; till the man named a ' bravo,' and offered to get the work done for him at onoo. The gentleman, unablo to reason and to see the sin and unmanliness of the stop, urged by his anger, told his valet 'he might do what he pleased,' and went to bed. Ho slept till late the next morning; but as soon as his servant appeared, ho inciuireu the first thing as to the subject of their conversation the uight before, having an indistinct recollection of the man's proposal of a bravo, but uimblo to remember all that had passed. The servant soon refreshed his mouiury; and the young Knglishman was horror-struck at the consent he had given to the murder of a fellow-creature. He begged him to think no more of the sulgcot ; and added his regret that his excited state the night before should have led him so astray. ' Sir,' said the servant, ' I fear it is too late; I have seen the bravo this morning, and he has promised to do the job.' The gentleman en- treated his man to seethe bravo immediately; and to offer him any sum to spare the nobleman's life. His valet replied, * 1 cannot see him again till to-morrow morning where I mot him to-day.' 'How came you to hear of him?' said his master ; ' and whore did you meet him ?' ' An acquaintance of mine, whom I saw after I left you last night, directed me to a church, where I should see a person of middle stature, dressed in black, and kneeling oefore a particular altar. Ho told me I should observe a peculiar fixedness in his devotions; and on speaking to him after they were over, I should find him answer to tho name he pave me. I therefore went very early this morning, and I saw the bravo ; but so intent did ho seem at his prayers, that I felt, over and over again, I must be mis- taken in tho man : however I waited till I saw him leaving the church ; and I spoke to him by namo, he answered me, and appeared to understand immediately the sul\jeot of my errand. He knew the Portugese nobleman well, and said that the long passages loading to his house would afford every facility for the execution of our purpose. I asked him the sum. He replied a moidore ; ftwenty-seven shillings or British monoyj and ho told me that if I would meet him at that same ohuroh tomorrow, at the samo hour, he would tell me if he had succeeded with his victim.' — The young Englishman finding it useless to send his valet to seek tho bravo before the time appointed, passed a day and night of such wretchedness as few, perhaps, have experienced. With the dawn of day he sent off his servant to 00 MARIA MONK. the Bisliops and seme priests with her ; and speaking in an unusual tone of fierceness and authority, she said, " Go to the room for the examination of conscience, and drag St. Frances up stairs." Nothing more was necessary than this unusual command, with the tone and manner which accompanied it, to excite in me most gloomy anticipations. It did not strike me as strange that St. Frances should be in the room to which the Superior directed us. It was an apartment to which we were often sent to prepare for the communion, and to which we voluntarily went, whenever we felt the compunctions which our ignorance of duty, and the misinstructions we received, inclined us to seek relief from self- reproach. Indeed, I had seen her there a little before. What terrified me was, first, the Superior's angry manner ; second, the expressions she used, being a French term, whose peculiar use I had learnt in the convent, and whose meaning is rather softened when translated into drag j third, the place to which we were directed to take the interesting young nun, and the persons as- sembled there, as I supposed, to condemn her. My fears were such, concerning thv fate that awaited her, and my horror at the idea that she was in seme way to be sacrificed, that I would have given any thing to be allowed to stay where I was. But I feared the consequences of disobeying the Superior, and proceeded with the rest towards the rocni for the examination of conscience. The room to which we were to proceed from that, was in the second story, and the place of many a scene of a shameful nature. It is sufficient for me to say, after what I have said in other parts of this book, things had here occurred which made me regard the place with the greatest disgust. St. Frances had appeared melan- choly for some time. I well knew that she had cause, for she had been repeatedly subject to trials which I need not name, our tlie church, with full directions to oflFer any sum to save the nobleman's life. The man soon returned,— his countenunco told the tale — his application was too late. The butcher only waited his reward. There wps the same serenity of countenance at the altar — the same uplifted eye. His conscience nlone seemed in a deep slumber. When the valet named his master's relentings, ' It is too late now,' said the bravo; 'he died by my hand last night, at eleven o'clocli, on his way to the opera.' My informant told me the poor young Englishman left Lisbon immediately ; and one would expect that he never more was guilty of the sin of drunkenness, which had been with him the moving spring to murder. It is true, that had the nobleman accepted his ch Ulenge, and fallen in a duel, it would still have been our'iler in the sight of God : though in the eye of man midnight assassination is considered dastardly, whilst the openly fought duel is thought to be a courageous and honourable action. Colonel (jardiner had more courage, when with his Bible in his hand, he refused to accept a challenge, saying, ' I am not afraid to fight but I am afraid to si::.' May these ' tales of other times' (though indeed not far distant) load us to pray more earnestly ' for all sorts and conditions of men; that God's way may bo known upon earth; his saving health among all nations.' And may all those who know and love the way of salvation study to throw their talents into the spiritual treasury ; that the word of God may have free course, and be glorified." MARIA MONK. 61 common lot. When we reached the room where we had been bidden to seek her, I entered the door, my companions standing behind me, as the place was so small as hardly to hold five persons at a lime. The young nun was standing alone, near the middle of the room ; she was probably about twenty, with light hair, blue eyes, and a very fair complexion. I spoke to her in a com- passionate voice, but at the same time with such a decided manner, that she comprehended my full meaning. " Saint Frances, we are sent for you." Several others spoke kindly to her, but two addressed her very harshly. The poor creature turned round with a look of meekness, and without even speaking a word, resigned herself to our hands. The tears came into my eyes. I had not a moment's doubt that she considered her fate as sealed, and was already beyond the fear of death. She was conducted or rather hurried to the staircase, which was near by, anci then seized by her limbs and clothes, and in fact almost dragged ap stairs, in the sense the Superior had intended. I laid my oviii hands upon her, I took hold of her too, more gentle indeed than some of the rest ; yet I encouraged and assisted them in carry ing her. I could not avoid it. My refusal would not have saved her, nor prevented her being carried up ; it would only have exposed me to some severe punishment, as I believe some of my companions would have seized the first opportunity to com- plain of me. All the way up the staircase. Saint Frances spoke not a word, nor made the slightest resistance. When we entered with her the room to which she was ordered, my heart sunk within me. The Bishop, the Lady Superior, and five priests, viz., Benin, Richanls, Savage, and two others, I now ascertained, were as* sembled for trial, on some charge of great importance. When we had brought our prisoner before them, Father Rich- ards began to question her, and she made ready but calm replies. I cannot pretend to give a connected account of what ensued ; my feelings were wrought up to such a pitch, that I knew not what I did, or what to do ; I was under a terrible apprehension that, if I betrayed the feelings wiiich overcame me, I. should fall under the displeasure of the cold-blooded persecutors of my poor innocent sister ; and this fear on the one hand, with the distress I felt for her on the other, rendered me almost frantic. As soon as I entered the room, I had stepped into a corner, on the left of the entrance, where I might partially support myself, by leaning against the wall, between the door and the window. This support was all that prevented me from falling to the floor, for the con- fusion of thoughts were so great, that only a few words I heard spoken on either side made any lasting impression upon me. I G2 MARIA MONK. I felt as if struck with some insupportable blow, and death would not have been more frightful to me. I am inclined to the belief, that Father Richards wished to shield the poor prisoner from the severity of her fate, by drawing from her expressions that might bear a favourable construction. He asked her, among other things, if she was now sorry for what she had been over- heard to say, (for she had been betrayed by one of the nuns,) and if she would not prefer confinement in the cells, to the punishment which was threatened. But the bishop soon inter- rupted him, and it was easy to perceive, that he considered her fate as sealed, and was determined that she should not escape. In reply to some of the questions put to her, she was silent ; to others I heard her voice reply, that she did not repent of words she had uttered, though they had been reported by some of the nuns, who had heard them ; that she had firmly resolved to resist every attempt to compel her to the commission of crimes which she detested. She added, that she would rather die than cause the murder of harmless babes. " That is enough, finish her !" said the Bishop. Two nuns instantly fell upon the woman, and in obedience to directions given by the Superior, prepared to execute her sen- tence. She still maintained all the calmness and submission of a lamb. Some of those who took part in this transaction, I believe, were as unwilling as myself : but of others, I can safely say, that they delighted in it. Their conduct certainly exhibited a most blood thirsty spirit. But, above all others present, and above all human fiends I ever saw, I think Saint Hypolite was the most diabolical ; she engaged in the horrid task with all alacrity, and assumed from choice the most revolting parts to be performed. She seized a gag, forced it into the mouth of the poor nun, and when it was fixed between her extended jaws, so as to keep them open at their greatest possible distance, took hold of the straps fastened at end of the stick, crossed them behind the helpless head of the victim, and drew them tight through the loop prepared as fastening. The bed, which had always stood in one part of the room, still remained there ; though the screen which had usually been placed before it, and was made of thick muslin, with only a crevice through which a person behind might look out, had been folded upon its hinges in the form of a W., and placed in a corner. On the bed the prisoner was laid with her face upward, and then bound with cords so that she could not move. In an instant another bed was thrown upon her. One of the priests, named Bonin, sprung like a fury first upon it, with all his force. He was speedily followed by the nuns, until there was as many upon tlie bed MARIA MONK. 63. V as could find room ; and all did what they could, not only to smother but bruise her. Some stood up and jumped upon the poor girl with their feet, some with their knees; and others, in different ways, seemed to seek how they might best beat the breath out of her body, and mangle it, without coming in direct contact with it, or seeing the effects of their violence. During this time my feelings were almost too strong to be endured. 1 felt stupified, and scarcely was conscious of what I did. Still, fear for myself remained in a sufficient degree to induce me to some exertion ; and I attempted to talk to those who stood next, partly that I might have an excuse for turning away from the dreadful scene. After the lapse of fifteen or twenty minutes, and when it was presumed that the sufferer had been smothered and crushed to death. Father Bonin and the nuns ceased to trample upon her, and stepped from the bed. All was motionlesL and silent beneath it. They then began to laugh at such inhuman thoughts as occurred to some of them ; rallying each other in the most unfeeling manner, ridiculing me for my feelings which I in vain endeavoured to conceal. They alluded to the resignation of our murdered com- panion ; and one of them tauntingly said, " she would have made a good Catholic Martyr." After spending some moments in such conversation, one of them asked if the corpse should be removed. The Superior said it had better remain a little while. After pik- ing a short time longer, the feather-bed was taken off, the c6Ms unloosed, and the body taken by the nuns and dragged down stairs. I was informed that it was taken into the cellar, and thrown unceremoniously into the hole which I have already de- scribed, covered with a great quantity of lime ; and afterwards sprinkled with a liquid, of the properties and name of which I am ignorant. This liquid I have seen poured into the hole from large bottles, after the necks were broken off ; and have heard that it is used in France, to prevent the effluvia rising from ceme- teries. I did not soon recover from the shock caused by this scene ; indeed, it still recurs to me with most gloomy impressions. The next day, there was a melancholy aspect over everything, and re- creation time passed in the dullest manner ; scarcely anything was said above a whisper. I never heard much said afterwards about Saint Frances. I spoke with one of the nuns a few words one day, but we were all cautioned not to expose ourselves very far, and could not place much confidence in each other. The murdered nun had been brought to her shocking end through the treachery of one of our .-o, # 64 MARIA MONK. number, in whom she confided. I never knew with certainty who had reported her remarks to the Superior ; but suspicion fastened on one, and I never could regard her but with detestation. I was more inclined to blame her, than some of those employed in the execution ; for there could have been no necessity for the betrayal of her feelings. We all knew how to avoid exposing each other. I was often sent by the Superior to overhear what was said by novices aud nuns : when they seemed to shun her, she would say, ''go and listen, they are speaking English;" and though I obeyed her, I never informed her against them. If I wished to clear my conscience, I would go to a priest and confess, knowing that he dared not communicate what I said to any person, and that he would not choose as heavy penances as the Superior. We were always at liberty to choose another confessor when we had any sin to confess, which we were unwilling to tell one to whom we should otherwise have gone. Not long after the murder just related, a young woman came to the nunnery, and asked for permission to see St. Frances. It was my former friend, with whom I had been an assistant teacher. Miss Louise Bousquet, of St. Denis. From this, I supposed the murdered nun might have come from that town, or its vicinity. The only answer was, that St. Frances was dead. Some time afterward, some of St. Frances's friends called to enquire after her ; and they were told she died a glorious death : and further told, that she made some heavenly expressions ; which were repeated in order to satisfy her friends. %.' CH AFTER XII. Description of the Room of the Three States, and the Pictures in it— Jane Ray ridiculing Priests — Their Criminal Treatment of us at Confession ' ' — Jane Ray's Tricks with the Nun's Aprons, Handkerchiefs, and Night- ^ gowns— Apples. The pictures in the room of the Three States were large, and painted by some artist who understood how to make horrible ones. They appeared to be stuck to the walls. The light is admitted from small and high windows, whicK are curtained, and is rather faint, so as to make every thing look gloomy. The story told us was, that they were painted by an artist, to whom MARIA MONK. 65 God had given power to represent things exac^ly as they are in heaven, hell, and purgatory. In heaven, the picture of which hangs on one side of the apart- ment, multitudes of nuns and priests are put in the high<;st places, with the Virgin Mary at the head ; St. Peter and other saints far above the great number of good Catholics of other ciasses, who were crowded in below. In purgatory are multitudes of people ; and one part, called " The place of lambs" are infants who died unbaptized ; ** The place of darkness^'' is that part of purgatory in which adults are collected ; and there they are surrounded with flames, waiting to be delivered by the prayers of the living. In hell, the picture of which, and that of purgatory, were on tl.e wall opposite that of heaven, the human faces were the most horrible that can be imagined. Persons of diflferent descriptions were represented, with the most distorted features, ghastly com- plexions, and every variety of dreadful expression ; some with wild beasts gnawing at their heads, others furiously biting the iron bars which kept them in, with looks which could not fail to make a spectator shudder. I could hardly persuade myself, that the figures were not living ; and the impression they made on my feelings was powerful. I was often shewn the place where nuns go who break their vows, as a warning. It is the hottest place in hell, and wor^, in every point of view, even than that to which all Protestants aw assigned ; because they are not so much to be blamed, as we were some- times assured, as their ministers and the Bible, by which they, are perverted. 'i Whenever I was shut up in that room, as I was several times, I prayed for '' les ames des fideles trepasses :" the souls of those faithful ones who have long been in purgatory, and have no rela- tions living to pray for them. My feelings were often of the most painful description, while I remained alone with those frightful pictures. Jane Ray was once put in, and uttered the most dreadful shrieks. Some of the old nuns proposed to the Superior t^ave her gagged. " No," she replied, " go and let out that devil, she makes me sin more than all the rest." ■ '•i!^':^ Jane could not endure the place ; and she afterwards gave names to many of the worst figures in the pictures. On cate- chism-days she would take a seat behind a cupboard door, where the priest could not see her, while she faced the nuns, and would make us laugh. " You are not so attentive to your lesson as 3rou used to be," he would begin to say, while we were endeavouring to suppress our laughter. i^* . i. ^ 6 t /*: :f.. . W G6 MARIA MONK. Jane would then hold up the first letter of some priest's name, whom she had before compared with one of the faces in *' hell," and look so that we could hardly preserve our gravity. I remember she named the wretch, who was biting at the bars of hell, with a serpent gnawing his head, with chains and padlock on, Father Dufresne ; and she would say — " Does he not look like him, when he comes into catechism with his long solemn face, and begins his speeches with, * My children, my hope is, that you have lived very devout lives.' " The first time I went to confession after taking the veil, I found abundant evidence that the priests did not treat even that cere- mony, which is called a solemn sacrament, with respect enough to lay aside the detestable and shameless character they so often shewed on other occasions. The confessor sometimes sat in the room for the examination of conscience, and sometimes in the Superior's room, and always alone, except the nun who was con- fessing. He had a common chair placed in the middle of the floor ; and instead of being placed behind a grate, or lattice, as in the chapel, had nothing before or around him. There were no spectators to observe him, and of course any such thing would have been unnecessary. A number of nuns usually confessed on the same day, but only one could be admitted into the room at a time. They took their places just without the door, on their knees, and went through the preparation prescribed by the rules of confession ; repeating certain prayers, which always occupy a considerable time. When one was ready, she rose from her knees, entered, and closed the door behind her ; and no one even dare touch the latch until she came out. I shall not tell what was transacted at such times, under the pretence of confessing, and receiving absolution from sin : far more sin was often incurred than pardoned ; and crimes of a deep dye were committed, while trifling irregularities, in childish cere- monies, were treated as serious offences. I cannot persuade myself to speak plainly on such a subject, as I must offend the vittuous ear. I can only say, that suspicion cannot do any injustice to the priests, because their sins cannot be exaggerated. Some idea may be formed of the manner in which even such women as many of my sister nuns regarded the father confessors, when I state, that there was often a contest among us to avoid entering the apartment as long as we could, endeavouring to make each other go first, as that was what most of us dreaded. During the long and tedious days, which filled up the time between the occurrences I have mentioned, nothing, or little took place to keep up our spirits. We were fatigued in body with labour, AIAUTA MONK. 67 or with .sitting, debilitated by the long continimnce of our reli- gious exercises, and depressed in feelings by our miserable and hopeless condition. Nothing but the humours of mad Jane Ray could rouse us for a moment from our langour and melancholy. To mention all her devices would require more room than is here allowed, and a memory of almost all her words and actions for years. I had early become a favourite with her, and had opportunity to learn more of her character than most of the other nuns. As this may be learned from hearing what she did I will here recount a few of her tricks, just as they happen to present themselves to my memory, without regard to the order of time. She one day, in an unaccountable humour, sprinkled the floor plentifully with holy water, which brought upon her a severe lecture from the Superior, as might have been expected. The Superior said it was a heinous offence; she had wasted holy water enough to save many souls from purgatory ; and what would they not give for it ! She then ordered Jane to sit in the middle of the floor, and when the priest came he was informed of her offence. Instead, however, of imposing one of those penances to which she had often been subjected, but with so little effect, he said to her, " Go to your place, Jane ; we forgive you for this time." I was once set to iron aprons with Jane ; aprons and pocket- handkerchiefs are the only articles of dress which are ever ironed in the Convent. As soon as we were alone, she remarked, " Well, we are free from the rules while we are at this work ;" and, although she knew she had no reason for saying so, she began to sing, and 1 soon joined her, and thus we spent the time while we werf at wo.\, to the neglect of the prayers we ought to have said. Wo had no idea that we were in danger of being overheard ; but it happened that the Superior was overhead all the time, with several nuns, who were preparing for confession : she came down and said, " How is this ?" Jane Ray cooly replied that we had employed our time in singing hymns, and referred to me. I was afraid to confirm so direct a falsehood in order to deceive the Superior, though I had often told more injurious ones of her fabrication, or at her orders, and said very little in reply to Jane's request. The Superior plainly saw the trick that was attempted, and ordered us both to the room for the examination of conscience, where we remained till night without a mouthful to eat. The time was not, however, unoccupied : I received such a lecture from Jane as I have very seldom heard ; and she was so angry with me, that we did not speak to each other for two weeks, ^^ G8 MARIA MONK. At length she found something to complain of against me, had me subjected to a penance, which led to our begging each other's pardon ; and we became perfectly satisfied, reconciled, and as good friends as ever. One of the most disgusting penances we ever had to submit to, was that of drinking the water in which the Superior had washed her feet. Nobody could ever laugh at this penance except Jane Ray. She would pretend to comfort us by saying she was sure it was better than mere plain clear water. Some of tlie tricks which I remember, were played by Jane with nuns' clothes. It was a rule that the oldest aprons in use should go to the youngest received, and that the old nuns were to wear all the new ones. On four different occasions Jane stole into the sleeping room at night and, unobserved by the watch, changed a great part of the aprons, placing them by the beds of nuns to whom they did not belong. The consequence was, that in the morning they dressed themselves in such haste, as never to discover the mistake they made until they were all ranged at prayers ; and then the ridiculous appearance which many of them cut disturbed the long devotions. I laugh so easy that on such occasions I usually incurred a full share of penances. I gene- rally, however, got a new apron when Jane played this trick ; for it was part of her object to give the best aprons to her favourites, and put off the ragged ones on some of the old nuns whom she most hated. Jnne once lost her pocket handkerchief. The penance for such an offence is, to go without any for five weeks. For this she had no relish, and requested me to pick one from some of the nuns on the way upstairs. I succeeded in getting two : this, Jane said, was one too many ; and she thought it dangerous fcr either of us to keep it, lest a search should be made. Very soon the two nuns were complaining that they had lost their handkerchiefs, and wondering what could have become of them, as they were sure they had been careful. Jane seized an opportunity, and slipped one into a straw bed, where it remained until the bed was emptied to be filled with new straw. As the winter was coming on, one year, she complained that we were not as well supplied with warm night-clothes as two of the nuns she named, whom she said she " abominated." She soon after found means to get possession of their fine warm flannel night- gowns, one of which she gave to me, while the other was put on at bed-time. She presumed the owners would have a secret search for them ; and in the morning hid them in the stove, after Um fire had gone out, which was kindled a little before the hour of rising, and then suil^red to bum down. '%- MARIA MONK. This she did every morning, taking them out at night, through the winter. The poor nuns who owned the garments were afraid to complain of their loss, lest they should have some penance laid on them ; and nothing was ever said about them. When the weather began to grow warm in the spring, Jane returned the night-gowns to the beds of the nuns from whom she had borrowed them ; and they were probably as much surprised to find them again, as they had been before at losing them. Jane once found an opportunity to fill her apron with a quantity of fine apples, caWed fameuses, which came in her way, and, has- tening up the sleeping-room, hid them under my bed. Then coming down she informed me, and we agreed to apply for leave to make our elevens, as it is called. The meaning of this is, to repeat a certain round of prayers, for nine days in succession, to some saint we choose to address for assistance, in becoming more charitable, affectionate, or something else. We easily obtained Sermission, and hastening up stairs to begin our nine day's feast ti the apples, when, much to our suprise, they had all been ta- ken away ; and there was no way to avoid the disagreeable fate we had brought upon ourselves. Jane, therefore, began to search the beds of the other nuns ; but not finding any trace of the apples, she became doubly vexed, and stuck pins in those which belonged to her enemies. When bed-time came, they were much scratched in getting iati> bed, which made them break silence, and that subjected them to penances. NOTES, FACTS, CONFIilMATIONS, &c. The public generally are but little aware of the oppoaition that has been raised against the Disclosures of Maria Monk ; nor of the host of evidence firoduced to prove the correctness of her assertions. Abundance of paragraphs ike the following, and many more powerful, will be given as we pass on. This is from the volume of Confirmations. " The following extract of a letter from a worthy gentleman in Montreal, who has taken some pains to investigate this matter, will enable the reader to understand something of the state of feeling, respecting this subject in and about that city. After detailing the efforts of himself and another gentleman in making inquiries of those who ought to know somethingof Miss Monk's past history, he writes as follows :—' Now the fact is Just here, everybody is afraid to know any thing about this matter : and all her relatives seem backward to say what they might on the subject. Romanism is so far predominant here, that there are only a very few who have correct principle and moral courage enough to think, speak, or act aright in the concern. Polilisal, pecuniary, and relative interests and connexions have occasioned such a com- mingling of Romanism and Protestantism, that it is difficult to reach the black heart of the Roman beast, nominal Protestants are so much in the way. A bookseller said to me yesterday, that he and all the other bookselicrs in the town were afraid to keep Maria Monk's book in their stores, lest a mob should attack them.' " Martin Luther, in his book entitled " T.ablc Talk," speaks thus ''Of the Lasciviousnees and Incontinency of the Papists." " Paul the third (before he was Pope) had a sister ; the same he gave to his predecessor, the Pope, for a con- cubine, and thereby deserved to be made a Cardinal. Such confounded pranks have the Popes played, as surpass all human thought. The Priests were forc«d 70 MAKIA MUNK. to give ^as their pander) a florin for every child they begat ; the same wan called a milk-penny. In the council at Lateran, in the year 1616, (which began in .the life of Pope Julius, and ended under i'opo Leo) it was first concluded that the resurrection of the dead should thenceforth be belioved, and that .i Cardinal lawfully might kuup five whores, but not more, to bo his chamborlainti for accom- plishing of his wicked lust, but tho same was afterwards ultorod by Pope Leo. Surely some fearful fall and destruction attendeth them, and those that undertake to niaintain and defend them ; therefore let us pray. The susiaciuns and idol- atries in Popedom were such horrible abominations, that if I had not seen them with mine eyes, but only had read thereof, I should never have believed them. The Pope placeth his Cardinals in all kingdoms, tho same are peevish milksops, effeminate, and unlearneil ass-heads ; ti ey lie lolling in kings' courts among tne ladies and women. The Pope hath possessed all countries with Cardinals, and with his papistical Uishops. Germany is taken captive with ^mpish Bishops, for 1 can make an account of above forty bishoprioH, oesides abbies and cathedrals (which are richer than the bishoprics.) Again, there are in Oormany but eight- and-tweoty principalities, so that tho popish Uishops are far more rich and powerful than the Princes of the empire. On a time tho Bishop of Magdeburg (reading by chance in the Bible of the Prophets) said ' Can I find nothing in this Book but how we priests are railed atf and indeed the writings of the Pro^)hets are fierce thunder-bolts against false Prophets and popish Bishops. Tho Princes of the empire regard not much, neither do they look thereunto, how ami after what deceitful manner the Pope devourcth and swalloweth up tho whi ' arid, according to Daniel's prophecy." A very splendid work entitled. " The Female Jesuit," is just issued. Wo shall, next number, notice its contents more fully. We here give one short extract as follows, — " I cannot now describe to you the feelings of norror I endured when I became a po«ukint. In the first instance 1 was cruelly deceived, for though I had been with the Society fifteen years I had not the most remote idea of the hu- miliating and trying ordeal they were called to pass through. I knew nothing of their customs, &o. till I entered the community. You may imagine my feel- ings of grief, and also suprise, when I was told to give up (with other things) the only earthly treasure I valued —my beloved mamma's portrait. Oh ! uncle, you say I shall no longer value it. Did you know the tears and wishes that were spent in parting with that dear relic of a fond mother, yoi. would not say so ; or if you have still left any consideration for my feelings ard affections, you will soon make me the happy possessor of that which, if it wire in the power of any earthly good to create happiness, this would to me ; parting with which was so great a trial to me, that it appeared as if it were to tear away every fibre of what 1 loved. I was never told I should be required to do this. Tho daily routine of a nun's life soon became most irksome ana wearisome to me." In an early number of tho " American Protestant Vindicator " we find the following remarks in reference to Maria Monk's Awful Disclosures : — " We are deafened with clamour for proof to substantiate Maria Monk's history; but that demand is tantamount to the declaration — ' I will not believe.' In anticipation of speedy death, and an immediate appearance at the dread tribunal of Jehovah, Maria Monk communicated to Mr. Tappan, the Chaplain at Bellevue — one of the benevolent institutions belonging to the city of Now York, tho principal facts in her Awful ' Disclosures.' After her unexpected recovery she personally appeared at Montreal, expressly and openly, to promulge her allegations of atrocious crimes against the chief Roman ecclesitistics in that city, who were armed with power, and having nearly the wholo population her infuriated enemies. There sh6 remained almost four weeks, constantly daring the Homan priests and nuns in vain. It is true Dr. Robertson, in his affidavit, says that he was willing ' To take the necessary steps for a full investigation if a direct charge were made against any particular individual of a criminal nature' Now if Maria Monk's charges are not direct— of a criminal nature— and against particular individuals—what charges can be so characterised ? Tho fact is this :— Dr. Robertson would no more dare to issue a warrant for the apprehension of Lartigue, or any of the inferior l:^ii\i-.i.'K.\li.t -.-L .-. MARIA MONK. 71 Kuiuan prieHUin Montreal than be would dare publicly to strike the Commander of the (jarrison, or the Oovernor of Canada upon military parade. If any papist had stated to him the same facts concerniDK a protestant, or protestant minister, and offered to confirm them by his wortuless oath, he would have issued his process at once ; but Dr. Robertson knows that, in the present state of Canadian society, Roman priests can do what they please ; and no man dares to reproTe. much less to "Take any necessary steps for a full invcsti nation" of their crimes. If the Jesuits and nuns at Montreal are anxious for a full and impartial scrutiny of the Hotel Dieu Convent, Maria Monk is ready to oblige them with some facilities for that object ; provided she may carry them out to all their extent and application. Mr. Ugden has one affidavit, and knows the whole matter; as can incontestibly be proved by Mr. A P. Hart, an Attorney of Montreal ; and we recommend I>r. Robertson to issue his warrant for the apprehension of Lartigue, Bonin, Dufreeno, and Richards, they are enough to begin with ; and if Mr. Ogden will carry the facts with which he is acquainted to the Grand Jury, one witness in Now York is ready to appear; and Ur. Robertson will find his hands full of employment if he will only '* Take the necessary steps " to procure two or three other persons who shall be pointed out to him in the IIotelDieu Nunnery. Thero- fore, until Dr. Robertson commences some incipient measures as a magistrate towards " The necessary steps for a full investigation," as ho says, we shall be forced to believe *''nt the printer made a mistake in his affidavit, and put willing for unwilling. The cavilling call, however, for additional evidence to be adduced by Maria Munk is manifestly futile. That testimony in within the jurisdiction of the priests alone who are criminated. Maria Monk reitoratetj her charges against the Roman ecclesiastics of Canada, and their nuns ; and has solemnly sworn that thoy are true. What more can she do? What more can be reon't." The cry was repeated ; and the voice of was heard, but in so low and gruv? a tone aa to render it unintelligible. They tried to gain admittance; but the dooi 7°: iHstouud, and the key hole stopped. They stood and heard it for 8ome time, then lott the place, believing that she was still resisting the solicitations of her spiritual guide, and that he was still urging her to compliance. What his designs were I shall not undertake to shew. But I would inquire, what earthly motives can be assigned for her being there at so late an hour of so dark a night, or what motive is sufficient to justify so indelicate an act on the part of a female ^ The priests have no wives. They are not allowed to marry. She was at confession, some papist might say. Will they admit that their church has bocouie so exceedingly corrupt as to render it necessary for their priests to hear confessions and absolve sins until so late an hour in the night? Surely this church is not so numerous as to require it; therefore this reason if assigned would be but a poor one and poorly understood. But I will leave the reader to judge for himself; and if he judges from analogy, I have little doubt as regards the decision. For Popery is the same in the United States as in Austria, Ireland or France, or wherever it exists. Their institutions and designs are the same, and their priests alike vicious. But what astonishing incredulity on the part of I'rotestiutts ; uotwith- etanding all the recent disclosures which have been made, many still persist in saying that the Romish Church is not so corrupt as she onue was. Alas ! how few are the signs of reformation. It will answer better for old men to comfort themselves with this belief, perchance they may slumber under the sod kwfore we shall be compelled to witness the sad demonstration of the fallacy of this un- warrantable belief. But never should any man who has the least regard for his country, or for the honour of his Oud, slumber when he knows that a storm is gathering which threatens to prostrate the object of his regard in tlie dust. Pro- testantism and Roman Catholicism are utterly opposed to each other as it regards their object and effect. And when wo cousider the fact stated above, that the Protestants in Hartford helped the Catholics to a church, does it not bespeak the awful lethargy and indifference which exists towards them ? Lot Chrietians and philanthropists instead of furnishing them with means by which thoir very heart's bloo(l is to be drawn from them, awake and unite their energies and efforts in the suppression of an evil, which threatens the fairest prospeots of our beloved country. Siuma. The Qlaigoui Examiner gives the following account of Extraordinary Pro* ceedings of the Roman Catholic Xunnery at Eainburgh. " We have omitted from our report at the Free Commission on Wednesday, a statement of a very ttartling nature made by Mr. George Lyon in the course of the discussion on Popery, which may be worth quoting here, as if true, it would perhaps form of itselr one of the moat effective arguments against the further toleration of these monastic insti- tutions which it is possible to procure. ' Not many days ago,' said Mr. Ijyon, a little excited in manner, ' a cab stopped at the nunnery out the way there, with three gentlemen in it and a wretched young woman. Two ladies were passing by at the time. She was forcibly taken out of the cab, with shrieks that pierced the ears of these two ladies who were passing. She clung to the spokes of the wheels of the cab, but was dragged from them, and immured in the nunnery; tho gate was looked upon her, and the gentlemen, if gentlemen they could be called, were seen returning in the cab.' This extraordinary statement failed not to produce, as in the circumstances it was well calculated to do, a very profound impression on the rev. court." « ' ^y MARIA MONK. 78 We havo noted before, that we hare received from America, several namben of the "Amrrican Frotrbtant Vindicator;" in these papers, all the argu- ments adduced as oTidnnoe of the falsity of Maria Monk's Disolosur^s are " unigktd in th* bahnct$;" and their uutruthfulnesH proved. The authorities of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, did flrst Htate that no suoii person as Maria Monlc over inhabited that convent. The following extract from a number of the " Prote$tant Vindicator" will shew what rolianoo is to be placed on this statement. — " Dr. Chapin of West- hampton, and latuly a missionary in ('anada, has furnished the Hampshire Gaiette with an article on Maria Monk's disclosures. He has been in Montreal, has visited the Hotel Dieu Nunnery. ' Baw a number of both sexes confessing to the priests'— heard it said that Maria Monk's ' character was very bad from ner youth up,' ' that she had been partially deranged.' Proof. The informant ' had seen her tied to a bed post like a dog V No small confirmation of the Awful Dis« closures I 'The French Cathedral,' exclaims the enraptured Mr. Chapin, * within or without, is the proudest structure which I ever beheld !— the largest in Ame- rica—the exterior now lofty I Within, how vast and magnificent 1 The trans- parencies are truly splendid, glorious !' The conclusion of the whole matter, in the mind of Mr. Chapin, is : ' The disclosures are a base fabrication.' Verily ! the Cathedral of St. Peter's at Rome, must have been 'gorgeous' in the eyes of our Protestant clergyman, had he been honored with an admittance into it three centuries ago. (|ucry. Whether he would not have thought the ' Awful Dis- closures' of Martin Luther, 'a base fabrication ?'— Whatever else has or has not been disclosed by the book of Maria Monk, three things have been made abund- antly apuurout. 1. Not a few of our patrician Protestants, ' gentlemen of pro- perty and standing,' gowned and ungowned, have become perfectly fascinated and euniptured with the external pomp and magnificence of the ' Man of Sin.' 2. They feel uny attack upon the Popish priesthood, as sensitively as if it was made upon themselves, and much more so than they do any insult to the Lord's despised poor- 3. Tnero is nothing too contradictory to be swallowed by these men— no barbarities that can move their compassion for the victims of Romanism, or lessen the strength of their sympathy for the instigators of them. ' A base fabrication,' a book, like that of Maria Monk, attributed to a poor maniac girl ! A female, of ' very bad character from her youth up,' selected for the society of the faithful, and for their own especial intimacy and spiritual communion by a chaste, an innocent and slandered priesthood I Ver^ doubtful whether Maria Monk had over been in the Nunnery, but its official inmates have ' seen her tied to a bed f>o>t like a dog /' The man that could coolly pen the account of such treatment of an unfortunate girl ; and retain his sympathy and credence for the barbarian that could throw this ;n her teeth to degrade and insult her, and render her testimony contemptible, would need little transformation in order to sit down with complacency at an auto de fe, and console himself for the horrors of the torture by the * proud,' ' splendid,' ' glorious' palaco of the Grand Inquisitor 1" Hero is tostiraony from one of their own fraternity to prove that Maria Monk «>«« an inmate of the Hotel Dicu Nunrier^. A Colonel Stone, once a profeteing Protestant, paid a visit to the Nunnery, with a view to compare Maria Monk's description of the building, with the building itself. We shall publish some parts of his contradictory statements, wherein he attempts to prove Maria Monk nn impostor ; and shall also add the testimony of other persons against Colonel Stone, proving beyond doubt, Cwhich the said Colonel Stone's evidence goes more to prove than falsify,) that all that Miss ^lonk has here stated, is but too true. — The faithfulness of this Narrative is proved first, by the affidavit of William Miller, City and County of New York. " William Miller being duly sworn, doth sav.— I know Maria Monk when she was quite a child, and was acquainted with all her father's family. My father, Mr. Adam Miller, kept the Government school at St. John's, Lower Canada, for some years. Captain William Monk, Maria's father, lived in the garrison, a short distance from the village, and she attended the school with me for some months, probably as much as a ;/ear. Her four brothers also attended with us. Our family were on terms of intimacy, as mv father had a high regard for Captain Monk ; but the temper of his wife was such even at that time, as to cause much trouble. Captain Monk died very suddenly, as was reported, in consequence of being poisoned. Mrs. Monk was then keeper of the Government House in Montreal, and received a pension, which privilege she hath since enjoyed. In the Summer of 1832, 1 left Oraada, and came to this city. In about a yuar afterward, I visited Montreal, and on the day when the Oovornor revitwed the troops, I believe about the end of August, I called at the 74 MARIA MOISK. Government Uouiie. where I saw Mrs. Monk and several of the family. I enquired where Maria was, and she told me that she was in the nunnery. This fact 1 well remember, beoause the information gave mc great pain, as I had unfavour- able opinions of the nunneries. On reading the Awful Disclosures,' I at once knew she was the eloped nun, but was unable to find her until a few days since, when we recognized each other immediately. I give witli pleasure my testimony in her favour, as she is among strangers, and exertions have been made against her. I declare my personal knowledge of many facts stated in her book, and my full belief in the truth of her story, which shocking as it is, cannot appear incredible to those persons acquainted with Canada. William Miller. Sworn before me, this 3ra day of March, 1836, Benjamin D. K. Craig, Commissioner of Deeds. 4c." CHAPTKR XIII, Jane Ray's Tricks continued — the Broomstick Ghost — Sleep-walking — Salted Cider — Ciianging Beds— Objects of some of her tricks — Feigned Humility — Alarm. One night Jane, who had been sweeping the sleeping room for a penance, dressed up the broo stick, when she had completed her work, with a white cloth on the end so tied as to resemble an old woman with long arms sticking out. This she stuck through a bioken pane of glass, and placed it so that it appeared to be looking m at the window, by the font of holy water. There it re:mined till the nuns came up to bed. The first who stopped at the font to dip her finger in caught a glimpse of the singular object, and started with terror. The next was equally terrified as slie approached, and the next, and the next. We all believed in ghosts; and it was not wonderful that such an object should cause alarm, especially as it was but a short time after the death of one of the nuns. Thus they went on, each getting a fright in turn, yet all afraid to speak. At length, one more alarmed, or with less presence of mind than the rest, exclaimed — " Oh, mon Dieu 1 je ne me couchcrais pas !" When the night watch called out '* Who's that i" she confessetl she had broken silence, but pointed at the cause ; and then all the nuns assembled at a distance from the win- dow : Jane offered to advance boldly, and ascertain the nature of the apparition, which they thought a most resolute inten- tion. We all stood looking on when she stepped to the window, drew in the broomstick, and showed us the ridiculous puppet which had caused so many superstitious fears. Some of her greatest feats she performed as a sleep walker. Whether she ever walked in her sleep or not, I urn uunble with ( ArAUIA MONK. 7.1 certainty, to say. She, however, often imposed upon the Superior and old nuns, by making them think so, when I knew she did not ; and yet I cannot positively say that she always did. I have remarked that one of the old nuns was always placed in our sleeping-room at night to watch us. Sometimes she would be inattentive, and sometimes fall into a doze. Jane Kay often seized such times to rise from her bed, and walk about, occasion- ally seizing one of the nuns in bed, in order to fri j;;ien her. This she generally effected ; and many times we have all been awakened by screams of terror. In our alarm, some of us fre- quently broke silence, and gave occasion to the Superior to lay us under penances. Many times, however, we escape'i with a mere reprimand, while Jane usually received expressions of compassion : " Poor creature ! she would not do so if she were in perfect pos- session of her reason." And Jane displayed her customary art- fulness, ii keeping up the false impression. As soon as she per- ceived tiiat the old nun was likely to observe her, she would throw her arms about, or appear unconscious of what she was doing ; falling upon a bed, or standing stock still, until exertions had been made to rouse her from her supposed lethargy. We were once allowed to drink cider at dinner, which was (juite an extraordinary favour. Jane, however, on account of her negligence of all work, was denied the privilege, which she much resented. The next day, when dinner arrived, we l^egan to taste our new drink, but it was so salt we could not swallow it. Those of us who first discovered it, were as usual afraid to speak ; but we set down our cups, and looked around, till the others n\ade the same discovery ; which they all soon did, and most of tliem in the same iiianncM-. Some, however, at length, taken by surprise, uttered some ludicrous exclamation, on tasting the malted cider, and tlien an old nun looking across, would cry out — "Ah! tucassesla silence." (Ah! you have broken silence.) And thus we soon got a laughing beyond our power of sup- porting it. At recreation that day, the first question asked by many of us was, " How did you like your cider ?" June Ray never had a tixed place to sleep in. When the weather began to grow warm in the spring, she usually pushed some bed out of its place, near a window, and put her own beside it ; and when the winter approached, she would choose a spot near the stove, and nccupy it with her bed in spite of all remonstrance. We were all convinced that it was generally best to yield to her. She was often set to work in different ways : but whenever she was dissatisfied with doing anything, would devise some trick that would make the Superior, or old nuns, drive her off; and ,J 76 MARIA MONK. whenever any suspicion was expressed of her being in her right mind, she would say that she did not know what she was doing; and all the difficulty arose from her repeating prayers too much, which wearied and distracted her mind. I was once directed to assist Jane Ray in shifting the beds of the nuns. When we came to those of some of the sisters whom she most disliked, she said, now we will pay them for some of the penances we have suffered on their account ; and taking some thistles, she mixed them with the straw. At night, the first of them that got into bed felt the thistles and cried out. The night- watch exclaimed as usual, " You are breaking silence there." And then another screamed, as she was scratched by the thistles, and another. The old i?uu then called upon all that had broken silence to rise, and ordered them to sleep under their beds as a penance, which they silently complied with. Jane and I after- wards confessed, when it was all over, and took some trifling pe- nance which the priest imposed. Tliose nuns who fell most under the displeasure of mad Jane Ray, as I have intimated before, were those who had the reputa- tion of being most ready to inform of the trifling faults of others, and especially those who acted without any regard to honour, by disclosing what they had pretended to listen to in confidence. Several of the worst-tempered " saints" she he'd in abhorrence ; and I have heard her say, that such and such she abominated. Many a trick did she play upon these, some of which were painful to them in their consequences, and a good number of them have never been traced to this day. Of all the nuns, however, none other was regarded by her with so much detestation as Saint Hypolite ; for she was always believed to have betrayed Saint Frances, and to have caused her murder. She was looked upon by us as the voluntary cause of her death, and of the crime which those of us committed who unwillingly took part in her execution. We, on the contrary, being under the worst of (eats for ourselves, in case of refusing to obey our masters or mistress, thought our- selves chargeable with less guilt, as unwilling assistants in a scene which it was impossible for us to prevent or delay. Jane has often spoken with me of tlie suspected intormer, and always in terms of the greatest bitterness. 'J'he Superior sometimes expressed commiseration for mad Jane Ray, but I never could tell whether she believed her insane or not. I was inclined to think that she was willing to put up with some of her tricks, because they served to divert our minds from the painful and distressing circumstances in which we were placed. I knew the Superior's powers and habits of deception also, and that she would deceive us as willingly as any one else, Somelimes she proposed to send Jane to St. Anne's, a place MARIA MONK. 77 near Quebec, celebrated for the pilgrimages made to it by persons differently afflicted. It is supposed that some peculiar virtue exists there, which will restore health to the sick ; and I have heard stories told in the corroboration of the common belief. Many lame and blind persons, with others, visit St. Anne's every year, some of whom may be seen travelling on foot, and begging their food. The Superior would sometimes say, that it was a pity that a woman like Jane Ray, capable of being so useful, should be unable to do her duties in consequence of a malady which she thought might be cured by a visit to St. Anne's. Yet to St. Anne's, Jane was never sent, and her wild and various tricks con- tinued as before. The rules of silence which the others were so scrupulous in observing, she set at nought every hour ; and as for other rules, she ref;arded them with as little respect when they stood in her way. She would now and then step out and stop the clock by which jur exercises were regulated, and sometimes in this manner If ngthened out our recreations till near twelve. At last the old n ms began to watch against such a trick, and would occasionally go out to see if the clock was going. She once made a request that she might not eat with the other nuns ; which was granted, as it seemed to proceed from a spirit of genuine humility which made her regard herself as unworthy of our society. It being most convenient, she was sent to the Superior's table to make her meals after her ; and it did not at first occur to the Superior that Jane, in this manner, profited by the change, by getting much better food than the rest of us. Thus there seemed to be always something deeper than any Ijody at first suspected, at the bottom of every thing she did. She was once directed to sweep a community-room, under the sleeping-chamber. This office had before been assigned to the other nuns, as a penance ; but the Superior, considering that Jane Ray did little or nothing, determined thus to furnish her with some employment. She de- clared to us that she would not sweep it long, as we might soon be assured. It happened that the stove by which the community- room was warmed in the winter, had its pipe carried through the floor of our sleeping chamber, and thence across it, in a direction opposite that in which the pipe of our stove was carried. It being then warm weather, the first mentioned pipe had been taken down, and the hole left unstopped. After we had all retired to our beds, and while engaged in silent prayers, we were suddenly alarmed by a bright blaze of fire, which burst from the hole in the floor, and threw sparks all around us. We thought the building was burning, and uttered cries of terror, regardless of the penances, the fear of which generally kept us silent. iiiJM^ ' 78 MARIA MONK. The utmost confusion prevailed ; for although we had solemnly vowed never to flee from the Convent, even if it was on fire, we were extremely alarmed, and could not repress our feelings. We soon learned the cause, for the flames ceased in a moment or two ; and it was found that mad Jane Ray, after sweeping a little in the room beneath, had stuck a quantity of wet powder on the end of her broom, thrust it up through the hole in the ceiling into our apartment, and with a lighted paper set it on fire. The date of this alarm I must refer to a time soon after the election riots ; for I recollect that she found means to get pos- session of some of the powder which was prepared at that time for an emergency to which some thought the Convent was ex- posed. She once asked for pen and paper ; and then the Superior told her if she wrote to her friends she must see it : she replied that it was for no such purpose : she wanted to write her confession, and thus make it once for all. She wrote it, handed it to the priest, and he gave it to tlie Superior who read it to us. It was full of offences which she had never committed, evidently written to throw ridicule on confessions, and one of the most ludicrous productions I ever saw. Our bedsteads were made with narrow boards laid across them, on which the beds were laid. One day, while we were in the bedchamber together, she proposed that we should misplace these boards. This was done, so that at night nearly a dozen nuns fell down upon the floor on getting into bed. A good deal of confusion naturally ensued, but the authors were not discovered. I was so conscience-stricken, however, that a week afterwards, while we were examining our consciences together, I told lujr I must confess the sin the next day. She replied, " Do as you like, but you will be sorry for it." The next day when we came before the Superior, I was just going to kneel and confess, when Jane, almost without giving me time to shut the door, threw herself at the Superior's feet and confessed the trick, and a penance was immediately laid upon me for the sin I had concealed. There was an old nun who was a famous talker, whom we used to call La Mere, (Mother). One night, Jane Ray got up, and secretly changed the caps of several o( the nuns ; and hers among the rest. In the morning there was great confusrion, and such a scene as seldom occurred. She was severely blamed by La Mere, having been informed against by some of the nuns ; and at last became so much enraged, that she attacked the old woman, and even took her by the throat. La Mere called on all present to come to her assistance, and several nuns interfered. MARTA MONK. 79 Jane sei;;ecl the opportunity aftbrded in the confusion, to beat some of her worst enemies quite severely ; and afterward said, that she had intended to kill some of the rascally informers. For a time, Jane made us laugh so much at prayers, that the Superior forbade her going down with us to morning prayers ; and she took the opportunity to sleep in the morning. When ' this was found out, she was forbidden to get into her bed again after leaving it ; and then she would creop under it and take a nap on the floor. This she told us of one day, but threatened us if we ever betrayed her. At length she was missed at break- fast, as she would sometimes oversleep herself, and (he Superior began to be more strict, and always inquired, in the morning, whether Jane Ray was in her place. When the question was general, none of us answered ; but when it was addressed to some nun near her, by name, as " Saint Eustace, is Jane Ray in her place ?" then we had to reply. Of all the scenes that occurred during my stay in the Convent, there was none which exoited the delight of Jane more than one which took place in the chapel one day at mass, though I never had any particular reason to suppose that she had brought it about. Some person, unknown to me this day, had ;ut some substance or other, of a most nauseous smell into the 'lat of a little boy, who attended at the altar, and he, without observing the trick, put it upon his head. In the midst of the ceremonies he ap- proached some of the nuns, who were almost suffocated with the odour ; and as he occasionally moved from place to place, some of them began to beckon him to stand farther oflf, and to hold their noses with looks of disgust. The boy was quite uncon- scious of the cause of the difficulty, and paid them no attention ; but the confusion became so great, through the distress of some, and the laughing of others, that the Superior ordfired the boy to withdraw. All attempts, however, to engage us in any work, prayer, or meditation, were found ineffectual. Whenever the circumstances in the chapel came to mind, we would laugh out. We had got into such a state, that we coidd not easily restrain ourselves. The Superior used sometimes to send Jane to instruct the novices in their English prayers. She would proceed to hor task with all seriousness ; but sometimes chose the most ridiculous, as well as irreverent passages from songs, and other things, which she had somewhere learned, which would set us, who understood her, laughing. One of her rhymes, I recollect, began with — " The lord of love — look from above, Upon this turkey hen !'' 80 MARIA MONK. Jane for a time slept opposite me ; and often in the night would rise, unobserved, and slip into my bed, to talk with me, which she did in a low whisper, and return again with equal caution. She would tell me of the tricks she had played, and such as she meditated ; and sometimes make me laugh so loud, that I had 'much to do in the morning with begging pardons and doing penances. One winter's day, she was sent to light a fire ; but after she had done so, remarked privately to some of us, "My fingers were too cold — you'll see if I do it again." The next day, there was a great stir in the house, because it was said that mad Jane Ray had been seized with a fit while making a fire, and she was taken up apparently insensible, and conveyed to her bed. She complained to me, who visited her in the course of the day, that she was likely to starve, as food was denied her ; and I was persuaded to pin a stocking under my dress and secretly put food into it from the table. This I after- wards carried to her, and relieved her wants. One of the things which I blamed Jane most for was a dis- position to quarrel with any nun who seemed to be winning the favour of the Superior. She would never rest until she brought such an one into some difficulty. We were allowed but little soap ; and Jane, when she found her supply nearly gone, would take any piece she could find. One day there was a general search made for a large piece that was missed ; when, soon after I had been searched, Jane Ray passed me, and slipped it into my pocket ; she was soon after searched herself, and then secretly came for it again. While I recal these particulars of our nunnery, and refer so often to the conduct and language of one of the nuui<, I cannot speak of some things, which I believed or suspected, on account of my want of sufficient kno^Medge. But it is a pity you have not Jane Ray for a witness ; she knows many things of which I am ignorant. She must be in possession of facts that should b< known. Her long residence in the Convent, her habits of roannng about, and of observing every thing, must have made her acquainted with things which would be heard with interest. I always felt as if she knew everything. She would often go and listen, or look through the cracks into the Superior's room, while any of the priests were closeted with her, and sometimes would come and tell me what she witnessed. 1 found myself bound to confess in such rases, and always did so. She knew, however, that I only told it to the priest or to the Superior, and without mentioning the name of my informant, which I was at liberty to withhold, so that she was not found ^'sSi^: 1^: w «Ti-' MARIA MONK. 81 out. I often said to her, " Dont tell me, Jane, for I must confess it." She would reply, " It is better for you to confess it than for me." I thus became, against my will, informed of scenes supposed by the actors of them to be secret. Jane Ray once persuaded me to accompany her into the Supe- rior's room, to hide with her under the sofa, and await the appearance of a visitor whom she expected, that we might overhear What passed between them. We had not been long con- cealed, when the Superior came in alone, and sat for some time ; when, fearing she might detect us in the stillness which prevailed, we began to repent of our temerity. At length, however, she suddenly withdrew, and thus afforded us a welcome opportunity to escape. I was passing one day through a part of the cellar, where I had not often occasion to go, when the toe of my shoe hit something. 1 tripped and fell down. I rose again, and holding my lamp to see what had caused my fall, I found an iron ring, fastened to a small square trap-door. This I had the curiosity to raise, and saw four or five Steps leading down ; but there was not light enough to see more, and I feared to be noticed by some- body and reported to the Superior ; so closing the door again I left the spot. At first I could not imagine the use for such a passage, but it afterwards occurred to me that it might open to the subterranean passage to the Seminary, for I never before could account for the appearance of many of the priests, who often appeared and disappeared among us, particularly at night, when I knew the gales were closed. They could, as I now saw, come up to the door of the Superior's room at any hour; then up stairs into our sleeping room, or where they chose. And often they were in our beds before us. I afterwards ascertained that my conjectures were correct and that a secret communication was kept up in tins manner between the two institutions, at the end towards Notre Dame-street, at a considerable depth under ground. I often afterwards met priests in the cellar, when sent there for coal and other articles, as they had to pass up and down the common cellar stairs on their way. My wearisome daily prayers and labours, my pain of body, and depression of mind, which were so much increased by penances I had suffered, and those which I constantly feared, and the feelings of shame, remorse, and horror, which sometimes arose, brought me to a state which I cannot describe. , In the first place, my frame was enfeebled by the uneasy pos- tures I was required to keep for so long a time during prayers. This alone, I thought was sufficient to undermine my healtl^ ftrid 6 o 83 MAKIA MONK. H destroy my life. An hour and a half every morning I had to sit on the floor of the community-room, with my feet under me, my body bent forward, and my head hanging on one side ; in a pos- ture expressive of great humility, it is true, but very fatiguing to keep for such an unreasonable length of time. Often I found it impossible to avoid falling asleep in this posture, which I could do without detection, by bending a little lower than usual. The signal to rise, or the noise made by the rising of the other nuns, then awoke me, and I got up with the rest unobserved. Before we took the posture just described, we had to kneel for a long time without bending the body, keeping quite erect, with the exception of the knees only, with the hands together before the breast. This I found the most distressing attitude for me, and never assumed it without feeling a sharp pain in my chest, which I often thought would soon lead me to my grains — that is, to the great common receptacle for the dead, under the chapel. And this upright kneeling posture we were obliged to resume as soon as we rose from the half sitting posture first mentioned ; so that I usually felt myself exhausted and near to fainting, before the conclusion of the morning services, I found the meditations extremely tedious, and often did I sink into sleep, while we were all seated in silence on the floor. When required to tell my meditations, s it was thought to be of no great importance what we said, I sometimes found I had nothing to tell but a dream, and told that, which passed off very well. Jane Ray appeared to be troubled still more timn myself with wandering thoughts; and when blamed for them would reply, '* I begin very well ; but directly I begin to think of some old friend of mine, and my thoughts go a-wandering from one country to another." Sometimes I confessed my falling asleep ; and often the priests have talked to me about the sin of sleeping in time of meditation. At last, one of them proposed to me to prick myself with a pin, which is often done, and so roused myself for a time. My close confinement in the Convent, and the want of oppor- tunities to breathe the open air, might have proved more injuri- ous to me than they did, had I not been employed a part of my time in more active labours than those of sewing, &c. to which I was chiefly confined. I took part occasionally in some of the heavy work, as washing, &c. The events which I am now to relate occurred about five months after my admission into the Convent as a nun ; but I cannot fix the time with precision, as I know not of anything which took place in the world about the same period. The cir- MAKIA MONK. 83 1^ cumstances I clearly remember; but as I have elsewhere re- marked, we were not accustomed to keep any account of time. Information was given to us one day, that another novice was to be admitted among us ; and we were required to remember and mention her often in our prayers, that she might have faith- fulness in the service of her holy spouse. No information was given us concerning her beyond this fact : not a word about her age, name, or nation. On all similar occasions the same course was pursued ; and all that the nuns ever learnt concerning one another was what they might discover by being together, and which usually amounted to little or nothing. When the day of her admission arrived, though I did not wit- ness the ceremony in the chapel, it was a gratification to us all on one account, because we were always released from labour, and enjoyed a great recreation day. Our new sister, when she was introduced to the " holy" society of us " saints," proved to be young, of about the middle size, and very good looking for a Canadian ; for I soon ascertained that she was one of my own countrywomen. The Canadian fe« males are generally not handsome — I never learnt her name nor any thing of her history. She had chosen St. Martin for her nun name. She was admitted in the morning, and appeared melancholy all day. This, I observed, was always the case ; and the remarks made by others, led me to believe that they, and all they had seen, had felt sad and miserable for a longer or shorter time. Even the Superior, as it may be recollected, con- fessed to me that she experienced the same feelings when she was received. When bed time arrived she proceeded to the chamber with the rest of us, and was assigned a bed on the side of the room opposite my own, and a little beyond. The nuns were all soon in bed, the usual silence ensued, and I was making my customary mental prayer, and composing nij self to sleep, when I heard the most piercing and heart-rending shrieks proceed from our new comrade. Every nun seemed to rise as if by one impulse, for no one could hear such sounds, especially in such total silence, without being greatly excited. A geueval noise succeeded, for many voices spoke together, uttering cries of surprise, compassion, or fear. It was in vain for the night-watch to expect silence ; for once we forgot rules and penances, and gave vent to our feel- ings, and she could do nothing but call for the Superior. I heard a man's voice mingled with the cries and shrieks of the nun. Father Quiblier of the Seminary, I had felt confident, was in the Superior's room at the time when we retired ; and several of the nuns afterward assured me that it was he. The Superior soorf made her appearance, and in a harsh manner commanded ! 84 MARIA MONK. •1 t li 1 silence. I hcurd tier threaten gugging her, and then say, " You are no better than anybody else, and if you do not obey, you shall be sent to the cells.'' One young girl was taken into the Convent during my abode there, under peculiar circumstances. I was acquainted with the whole affair, as I was employed to act a part in it. Among the novices, was a young lady, of about seventeen, the daughter of an old rich Canadian. She had been remarkable for nothing that 1 know of, except the cheerfulness of her dis- position. The Superior once expressed to us a wish to have her take the veil, though the girl herself never had any such intention that I know of. Why the Superior wished to receive her I could not conjecture. One reason might have been, that she expected to receive a considerable sum from her father. She was, however, strongly desirous of having the girl in our community, and one day said — " Let us take her in by a trick, and tell the old man she felt too humble to take the veil in public." Our plans then being laid, the unsus|)ecting girl was induced by us, in sport, as we told her, and made her believe, to put on such a splendid robe as I had worn on my admission, and to pass through some of the ceremonies of taking the veil. After this, she was seriously informed, that she was considered as having entered the Convent in earnest, and must henceforth bury her- self to the world, as she would never be allowed to leave it. We put on her a nun's dress, though she wept, and refused, and ex- pressed the greatest repugnance. The Superior threatened, and promised, and flattered by turns, until the |)Oor girl had to sub- mit; but her appearance long showed that she was a nun only by compulsion. In obedience to the directions of the Superior, we exerted our- selves to make her contented, especially when slie was first re- ceived; when we got round her, and told her ve and felt so for a time, but having since become acquainted with the happi- ness of a nun's life, were perfectly content, and would be willing never to leave the Convent. An exception seemed to be made in her favour, in one respect ; for 1 believe no criminal attempt was made upon her, until she had been for tome time an inmate of the nunnery. Soon after her reception, or rather her forcible entry into the Convent, her father called to make enquiry about his daughter. The Superior first spoke with him herself, and then called us to repeat her plausible story, ^vhich I did with accuracy. If I had wished to have said any tiling else, I never should have dared. We told the foolish old man, that his daughter, whom we all affectionately loved, had long desired to become a nun, but had ^ilp iMAKIA MONK. 85 been too humble to wish to appear before spectators, and had, at her own desire, been favoured with a private admission into the community. The benefit conferred upon himself and his family, by this act of self-consecration I reminded him, must be truly great and valuable ; as every family who furnishes a priest or a nun, is justly looked upon as receiving the peculiar favour of heaven on that account. The old Canadian firmly believing every word I was forced to tell him, took the event as a great blessing, and ex- pressed the greatest readiness to pay more than the customary fee to the Convent. After the interview, he withdrew, promising soon to return, and pay a handsome sum to the Convent, which he peformed with all dispatch and the greatest cheerfulness. The poor girl never heard that her father had taken the trouble to call and see her, much less did she know any thing of the imposition passed upon him. She remained in the Convent when I left it. The youngest girl who ever took the veil of our sister-hood, was only fourteen years of age, and considered very pious. Slie lived but a > of this prmluction, as also teu I to illustrate the real ■ (haracter up the Ct)N\'ENT." The following prospet tus of the Convent Lodge at Taunton, has come forth in Miss , albot's case: — " The Lodge, Taunton. The ago of admission to thirteen years old iuclusive. Twenty- eight young ladies only are admitted. They must be children vf Roman Catholic parents. For board, washing, sheets, t' wels, stationery, and school books, forty guineas per annum, half of which is aiways paid in advance, and tw^ guineas entrance. Education comprises the principles and practices of thi Catholic religion, the English and French languages, history geography, writing, arith- metic, plain and fine needlework, &c. The uniform Iress on Sundays —white muslin and blue sash ; every day in summer, a gingtuam, procured at Taunton Lodge; in winter, a dark blue merino, straw bonnet, trimmed with blue ribbon : other articles of dress as each young lady may have been accustomed to. No vacation ; and no deduction is made for absence, if by way of indulgence ; if absence is occasioned by illvess, a deduction is then made. If parents take their children home, it can o" >'^ "or a month once in a year." Father Doyle's Cii \ra<' '«b in Miss Talbot's Cask.— Priestly perfection has not had many avera, .v ■ nples fuller of instruction than that of Dr. Doyle. lie now appears in the lV-:'.\\ 'lurt of Chancery as guardii^of an orphan, and to appreciate the fidelity with which he has discharged his office as an angel ministrant, we must go back to the first point visible of his tutelar ministration. A nobleman, wedded in an evil hour to a Protestant lady, had been by some influence or othi - separated from the |M)llution of her society. In good time, the honourable is on riis death-bed, where i j behoves him to make amends for the sins of his life, and there stands Dr. Doyld instructing him how to go through the solemn transaction. Notwithstandiug his high rank, unlike poor M. Carre, who i^yS^r, • ^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 4 // .^ ,<^^ /. K. 1.0 1.1 11.25 L& IZB |2.5 '- u ■UUU 1.4 mil 1.6 *^ /: f '>> -i m ''W 7 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 wes^ MAi^' sraeiT WIBSTER.N.V. 4580 (716)872-4503 '■■■"_"■ ..''-■..:■-'',''■■.•'-• ^ ■".'■,' ,'■ , ; * ' ' '.■■'■■■ " ■ IS ,, S.-V ■ ■ ■ • ■■■"■- 'k • ' i> 1^ '^\ 4> lV :: ■; ' < .■- ■!■ - ■' . , 66 MAKIA MONK. WM but a lone foreigner in Somera-town, the dyini; man forgets all worldly oon* nexiona, and, under the tutelage of this ministering spirit, consigns his estate to the executorship of hia will, by which will he gires the self-same doctor all his personal property, and intrusts him with the guardianship of his two children, one of them, the boy, to be in the priest's power at once, and the other, the little Sirl, to be nursed by her own mother, until ten years of age, and then torn from er boBom. to be led into some by-way of existence by the hand of this same priest Doyle, *oU guardian of both infants. But when children are thrown into the ereehe of stem old mother Ohuroh, they are almost sure to perish. These infants are to hare a fbrtune, if they can get it. The late Charles, Barl of Shrewsbury, left them each 30,00(M., " contingently upon their attaining twenty- one years of age ; or, in the case of the female, upon her marriage, with a gift oyer to the present Earl of Shrewsbury, in the event of their dying under age, and, as to Augusta Talbot, unmarried." This brings the Earl and Countess of 8hrews> bury upon the stage, to figure in the drama, and to become subserrient to the plot. Guardian Doyle has them also under his vigilant supervision, when an order of the C!ourt of Chancery empowers them to take part in the " care and management " of these infants, with the provision that he should travel with them as tutor to the boy. The mother of Augusta dies, and she, poor orphan, is forthwith consigned to a cheap conventual school at Taunton, to be kept there for 401. per an.iam ; to bo instructed, first and chiefly, " in the principles a,nd prattiee$ of the Catholic religion," with a common, very common, secular education, and to wear the " uniform dress on Sundays," on week days in summer and winter, with no holidays. Guardian Doyle wisely husbands the legaov of the old Earl, and therebv assures larger accumulations. Following his elder ward, John Talbot, to that most happy country, Naples — where the paths into eternity are notoriously numerous— he is soon found waiting at his aeath>bed, as he was at that 01 the father, and at the early age of sixteen, this infant passes from the scene, leaving the actor one the fewer, under the skilful care and management of guardian Doyle. Fully instructed in the doctrine and practices of the Catholic religion — as far, at least, as it concerns an orphan lady to know its practices — she is taken out suddenly into the world of fashion and confusion, whirled for a few weeks in the vortex of wildest frivolity at the West end, showed , up to a crowd of strangers, exhibited as heiress of 80,000/, at least, hurried across the Channel, and proposed by the Earl and Countess to be wife of a strange French Count de Rochefoucauld. And in this snare she is nearljf caught, for she was not made for anunneiy. She has no objection to a marriage; but her training at Taunton Lodge, the want of maternal guidance, the habitual negligence of ner obeul relatives, have left her in a condition of incapacity to choose a husband. The Lord Chancellor of England being her legal protector, happily interposes, and, although disappointed, she wisely submits to his judgment, refuses the suitor, and offends her relatives, the Fjarl and Countess of Shrewsbury. Conse- quently, the Earl himself, having made arrangements by his chaplain, takes her back to Taunton Lodge, where she is immured as a postulant— nominally, not really, say the Lady Superior and Bishop Hendren, of Clifton, the ecclesiastical superior— but she really is treated as a postulant for nunship. The Earl has'' «njoined that she be kept in strict monastic seclusion, only to be seen alone by the guardian angel of the Shrewsburys and Talbots, Dr. Doyle. The next point would soon be gained. In a few months Miss Talbot will be of age, and therefore at her own disposal legally. In the character of a free ap;ent she would dispose of her property, now accumulated to 85,0002. But, not being a free agent morallg, she would resign it all, and take the vow of poverty. As one about to die to the world, she might bequeath it all to the Earl, according to the letter of his father's will, which gave him the money on the contingency of her death. But as the death will not be bodily, but civil, she might give it all to the Choroh within whose arms she is to expire; or, Do^-le and Shrewsbury might share the spoil. At any rate, i^ waito be the victim, under the vow of power oanonically prescribed and taken— for PopHppriests may administer oaths, although Protestant minis- ters neither can nor ought. It was under the care and management of Dr. Doyle that the father died ; the son died in his minority under the same: the daught«r was imprisoned, and on her way to be a nun, as fast as girl could be, under the same. The Lord Chancellor and Solicitor General— and bis lordship well knows the circumstances and history of both branches of the family— clearly sc<> that Miss Augusta Talbot was entrapped.— CAriid'an Time$. MAKIA MONK. m We will here k>t^ an extract from Da Cwta, a Piortugucae Roman Catholio writer, who had saffered in the inqaisition, in oonsequenoe of being aooosed of Freemasonry. It illustrates the adulterous character of Roman priests, and also the abominable character of the Confessional. Pope Paul IV., from some cause or other, was induced to issue a bull, ordering nr. inTestigation into the crime of loUcitant, as it is called— that is, when tha oonfeesional is used by the priests for lioentious purposes. This hivd reference Co the kingdom of Spain. The fbllowing is an extract from the bull : — " Whereas certain ecclesiastics in the kingr'om of Spain, and in the cities and dioceses thereof, haTing the cure of souls, or exer- cising such cure for others, or otherwise deputed to hear the confessions / such penitents, have broken yai into such heinous acts of iniquity, as to abuse the sacrament of penance in the very act of hearing the cootessions, not flsaring to injure the same sacrament, and him who instituted it, our Lord God and Saviour Jesus Christ, by enticing and provoking, or trying to entice and provoke females to lewd actions at the very time when they were making their confessions." " When this bull," says Da Costa, " was first introduced into Spain, tho inquisitors Sublished a solemn edict in all the churches belonging to the archbishopric of eville, that any person knowing, or having heard of any friar or clergyman's having committed the crime of abusing the sacrament of Confession, or la any manner having improperly conducted nimself during the confession of a female penitent, should make a discovery of what he knew, within thirty days, to the holy tribunerty." Popery urges the voluntary act of the nun in taking the veil. We reply, that the true idea of religious liberty is the power of con- stantly following the decision of the judgment and the dictates of the conscience. Suppose, then, the views and feelings of the unhappy nun undergo a complete revolution — that she wishes for an exit firom, as ardently as she desired an en- traaoe into, a nunnery ; to retain her by force is the foulest tyranny, a flagrant violation of both civil and religious freedom, and of the dearest right:^ of our common humanity I I am here pleading for the true liberty of the members of the Romish communion. The transparent sophism, that as the vow of perpetual seclusion was voluntarily taken by the recluse, she should be retained, will weigh as small dust in the balance in the estimation of honest Englishmen. How deeply affecting was the occurrence at Nottingham a few weeks since. " A female oonnned in a nunnery adjoining the Reman Catholic Church of St. Barnabas, Derby-road, Nottingham, endeavoured to effect her escape, but was observed by a person who retails milk in that part of the town, and she was again immured within the convent." Let us listen for a moment to Father Gavazzi, on Mosaic Institutions : "The average mortality prevalent in Italian cloisters, showed its pernicious working on body and soul. The poor victims, forced to take that step for family reasons, lead, of course, a career of hopeless gloom ; but when the voluntary vestal repents — as we know occurs in a mojority of instances— what bitter regret wastes and corrodes the blighted years of self-imposed incarceration. The oar of Juggernaut rolled over willing suicides, and crushed out their life- blood in an ecstaoy of fanaticism; but here the sustaining enthusiasm has perished; and the crushing prooess is continued through days and nights of dismal desnondency till death claims the bride of despair. Is there no law in this land of enlightened hamanity to arrest the recruiting sergeants of this in- famous enrolment of credulous girls to swell that melancnoly mass of misery, delusion, and remorse f" No ! eloquent Father ; but we trust there will be very soon. On the supposition that nunneries are still allowed to stand on British soil, the law should interpose so as effectually to secure the liberty of their in- mates. The proposed act appears to me to provide for far too infrequent visita- tions. Tho utmost otution and greatest vigilance are required in dealing with so crafty and unprincipled a foe to human freudom as the Papacy. I think also that the act should decree that tho visitors have an introduction too, so as to enable them to identify, every nun who takes the veil. I fear not the charge of un- charitableness, when I contend that tho whole svstem of monasticism should be treated with " suspicion." But if emancipation from the wretched slavery which runs riot in these dark dens be rejected by Romish dignitaries and priests, then in the name of liberty, of religion, of all that is dear to humanity, let these insti- ^ V MARIA MOMX. 80 •^ P was shown up stairs to the door of a garret room, into which, after a loud rap, and announoing my name, I was admitted to the litk voung mom. He had returned to his bed before I entered, and was wrapped in a large overoloak. I asked him whether he wanted to see me, and for what purpose. He deliberately turned out of his bed, looked the door again, Tsry respectfully handed me a ohair, and asked me to sit down, as he had something Tery imjportant to tell me. He wrapped himself again in his cloak, lay on the outside of the bed, and spoke to me in a firm, decided tone to the following effect :— ' Sir, you have taken me fbr a young man, but you are mistaken, I am a girl, but not so young as I appear to you in my boy's dress. I sent for you because I want to get a eharacUr, and con- fess to you before I leave the city.' l answered, ' You must explain yourself more fully before you do either.' I moved my chair further fh>m the bed, and tightened my grasp upon a sword-cane which I carried in my hand. ' Feel no alarm,' said this young woman; I am as well armed as you are'— taking flrom under her jacket an elegant poignard : ' I will not hurt you. I am a lajf tiiitr Mongittg to th« order of Jetutta in Stmtyhurtt, England, and I wear this dagger to protect myself.' There was no longer any mystery in the matter. I knew now where I was, and the character of the being that Bto<.>d before me. I discoTored from her that she arrived in New Orleans to the priests and nuns of that city. She had the necessary ' Shibboleth' from the Jesuits of Stonyhurst, to their brothers and sisters, who wert then, and arc now, numerous in that city. They received her with all due c&ution, as far as could be seen by the •public, but privately in the warmest manner. Jesuits are active and diligent in the discharge of their duties to their superiors, and of course this titter, who was chosen from among many for her zeal and craft, lost no time in entering on her mission. The Sittert of Charity in Kew Orleans took immediate charge of her, recommended her as chambermaid to one of the most respectable Protestant families in the city ; and having clothed her fn an appropriate dress, she entered upon her employment. She was active, diligent, and competent. The young ladies of the family were delighted with her ; she appeared extremely pious, but not ostentatiously so. She seemed de- sirous to please in all things; talked but seldom of religion, but took care that her devotional exercises should be noticed, though she seemed to avoid such a thing. Her conduct was in every way unexceptionable. So great a favourite did she become in the family, that in a short time she became acquainted with all the circumstances and secrets, from those of the father down to those of the youngest child. According to a custom universally in vogue among the Jesuit spies, she kept notes of every occurrence which might tend to elucidate the character of the family, never carrying them about her, but depositing them, for safe-keeping, with the Mother Abbess, especially deputed to take charge of them. She soon left this family under some pretext or other, obtained from them an unqualified re- commendation for honesty and competenojr, which, with the previous and secret arrangements of the Sittert of Charity, obtained for her without delay a place in another Protestant family. Herej too, she was without fault, active, honest, and industrious to all appearance. Little did these families know that, while they and their children were quietly reposing in the arms of sleep, this apparently in- nocent waiting-maid or chambermaid was, perhaps, in the dead hour of the night, reducing to paper their conversation of the day previous, and preparing it, at least as mucn of it as could answer any Jesuitical purpose, to be recorded among the secret archives of the Jesuit college of Stonyhurst, from which they were to be transcopied to those of the parent college in Rome. Thus did this lay tiiUr continue to go from place to place, from family to family, until she became better acquainted with the politics, the pecuniary means, religious opinions, (whether favourable or not to the propagation of Popery in this country,) than even the very individuals with whom she resided. No one suspected her, all believed her innocent and industrious ; the only fault they could find with her was, that she seemed too fond of going from one place to another. For this, however, the Sitttrt of Charity had some salvo or other. On arriving in Baltimore, she, of course, called upon the nuns of that city, who were prepared for her reception, and had already a situation engaged for a ' chambermaid whom they expected from New Orleans, and who was coining highly recommended by some of the first families ill that city.' She took possession of a place as soon as convenient, spent several months in that city, discharging all her duties faithfuUv, no one finding any fault with her, except her restlessness in not staying long with any family. Having now become acquainted with the secret and circumstances of al most every Protestant family of note in Baltimore, and made her report to the Mother Abbess of the nunnery of her order in that city, she retired to the district of Columbia ; •Vi^'>-! riy^^^^fc ' ^.. W: 9ft MARIA MONK. and, »fler •dviting with lb« Mother Abbeu of the oonvent, the datenninad to chHom her appttre; .t ohantoter and appearance. By advice of (Aa< unmMt Imiff, (A« nS^ iViorcM on whom many of the wtTes of olir national repreeentatiTee, and even grave eenators, look as an example of j»My looking young man got inatant employment: and now we have the Ian aiater in anite a cufferent character. Hia intelligent coantenanee— we moat not aay Am- in nitare — aeon attracted the notice of aome of our meet eloquent atateamen. He appeared ao humble, so obedient^ and ao inattentite to anything but hia own buai- ness, that those aenatora on whom i>e waited, not auapeeting that he had the ordi- nary curiosity of serranta in general, were entirely thrown off their guard, and in tneir conToraationa with one another aeemed to forget their naual caution. Such in a abort time waa their confidence in him, that their moat important papera and lettera were left loose upon their tablea, aatiafled with aaying, aa they were going out, ' Theod,. ■, around her. She spke like a woman in feeble health, and of broken spirits. I occasionally saw other nuns speaking to them, particularly at meal times, when they were regularly furnished with food, which was such as we ourselves ata. Their cells were occasionally cleaned, and then the doors were opened. I never looked into them, but was informed that the ground was their only floor. I presumed that they were fur-' nished with straw to lie upon, as I always saw a quantity of old straw scattered about that part of the cellar, after the cells had been cleaned. I once enquired of one of them, whether they could converse together, and she replied that they could, through a small opening between the'r cells, which I could not see. I once enquired of the one I spoke with in passing, whether she wanted any thing, and she replied, " Tell Jane Ray I want to see her a moment, if she can slip away." When I went up I took an opportunity to deliver my message to Jane, who con- certed with me n signal to be used in future, in case a similar request should be made through me. This was a sly win!* at her with one eye, accompanied with a slight toss of my head, biic then sought an opportunity to visit the cellar, and was soon able to hold an interview with the poor prisoners, without being noticed by any one but myself. I afterwards learned that Jane Ray was not so mad but she could feel for those miserable beings, and carry through measures for their comfort. She would often visit them with sympathizing words, and, when necessary, conceal part of her food while at table, and secretly convey it into their dungeons. Sometimes we would combine for such an object ; and I have repeatedly aided her in thus obtaining a larger supply of food than they had been able to obtain from others. I frequently thought of the two nuns confined in thb cells, and occasionally heard something said about them, but very little. Whenever I visited the cellar, and thought it safe, I went up to the first of them and spoke a word or two, and usually got some brief replv, without ascertaining that any particular change took place with either of them. The one with whom I alone con- versed, spoke English perfectly well, and French, I thought, as well. I supposed she must have been well educated, lor 1 could not tell which was her native language. I remember that she frequently used these words when I wished to say more to her, and which alone showed that she was constantly afraid of punish- ment : " O, there's somebody coming — do go away !'■ I have been told that the other prisoner also spoke £nglish. It was impossible for me to form any certain opinion about the size or appearance of those two miserable creatures, for their cells were perfectly dark, and I never caught the slightest glimpse ev6n 96 MARIA MONK. of tlieir faces. It is probable they were women not above tbe middle size, and my reason for this presumption is the following : I was sometimes appointed to lay out the clean clothiM for all the nuns in the Convent on Saturday evening, and was always directed to lay by two suits for the prisoners. Particular orders were given to select the largest-sized garments ior several tall ^iuns ; but nothing of the kind was ever said in relation to the clothes for those in the cells. I had not been long a veiled nun, before I requested of the Superior permission to confess to the "■ Saint Bon Pasteur," (Holy Good Shepherd,) that is, the mysterious and nameless nun whom 1 had heard of while a novice. I knew of several others who had confessed to her at different times, and of some who had sent their clothes to be touched by her when they were sick ; and I felt a desire to unburden my heart of certain things which I was loath to acknowledge to the Superior, or any of the priests. The Superior made me wait a little while, uatilshe could ascer- tain whether the " Saint Bon Pasteur" was ready to admit me ; and, afler a time, returned and told me to enter the old nun's room. That apartment has twelve beds, arranged like the berths of a ship, by threes ; and as each is broad enough to receive two persons, twenty-four may be lodged there, which was about the number of old nuns in the Convent during most of my stay in it. Near an opposite comer of the apartment was a large glass case, with no appearance of a door, or other opening, in auv part of it ; and in tnat case stood the venerable nun, in the areas of the Qommunity, with her thick veil spread over her face, so as to con- ceal it entirely. She was standing, for the place did not allow room of sitting, and moved a little, which was the only sign of life, as she did not speak. I fell on my knees before her, and began to confess some of my imperfections, which lay heavy on my mind, imploring her aid and intercession, that I might be delivered from them. She appeared to listen to me with patience, but still never returned a word in reply. I became much aflected as I went on ; at length I began to weep bitterly ; and when I withdrew, was in tears. It seemed to me that my heart was remarkably relieved after this exercise ; and all the requests I had made I found, us I believed, strictly fulfilled. I often, after- ward, visited the old nun's room for the same purpose, and with similar results ; so that my belief in the sanctity of the nameless nun, and my regard for her intercession, were unbounded. What is remarkable, though I was repeatedly sent into the room to dust it out, or to put it in order, 1 remarked that the glass- case was vacant, and no signs were to be found either of the nun or of the way by which she had left it ; so that the solemn oon>- ■^$. :■■ .%•• M\RIA MONK. 97 clu»ion rested iinoii my mind, that she had gone on one of her fre- quent visits to heaven. A prieit would sometimes come in tiie daytime to teach us to sing ; and this was done with some parade or stir, as if it were considered, or meant to be considered, as a thing of im* portance. The instructions, however, were entirely repetitions of the words and tunes, nothing being taught even of the principles of the science. Ii. .ippeared to me, that although hymns alone were sung, the exercise was chiefly designed for our am\isement, to raise our spirits a little, which were apt to become depressed. Mad Jane Ray certainly usually treated the whole thing as a matter of sport, and often excited those of us who understood iln^Iish to a great degree of mirth. She had a very fine voice which was so powerful as generally to be heard above the rest. Sometimes she would be silent when the other nuns began ; and the Superior would often call out ** Jane Ray, vou don't, ^ing." She always had some trifling excuse ready, ancl commonly ap- peared unwilling to join the rest. AA:er being urged or commanded by the Superior, she would then strike up some English song, or profane parody, which was rendered ten times more ridiculous by the ignorance of the lady Superior, and the majority of the nuns. I cannot help laughing now when I remember how she used to stand with perfect com> postnre and slug, " I wish I was married aud nothing to rue, With plenty of money and notk'ng to do." " Jane Ray, you don't sing right," the Superior would exclaim. " Oh," she would reply, with perfect coolness, '* that i» the En- glish for, " Seigneur Dien de olemence, Becoise ce grand pecheor." and as sung by her, a person ignorant of the language would na- turally be imposed upon. It was extremely difficult for me to conceal my laughter. I have always had greater exertion to make in repressing it than most other persons ; and mad Jane Ray oflen took advantage of this. Saturday evening usually brought with it much unpleasant work for some of us. We received the Sacrament every Sunday ; and in preparation for it, on Saturday evening we asked pardon of the Superior, and of each other, "for the scandal we had caused them since we last received the sacrament," and then asked the Superior's permission to receive it on the following day. She enquired of each nun, who necessarily asked her per- 98 MARIA MONK. i mission, whether she, naming her as Saint somebody, had con- cealed any sin that should hinder her receiving it ? and if the answer was in the negative, she was granted her permission. On Saturdays we were catechised by a priest, being assembled in a community-room. He uat on the rignt of the door in a chair. He often told us stories, and frequently enlarged on the duty of enticing novices into the nunnery. " Do you not feel happy," he would say, "now that you are safely out of the world, and sure of heaven ? But remember how many poor people are yet in the world. — Every novice you influence to take the black veil, will add to your honour in heaven. Tell them how happy you are." "•^• The Superior played one trick while I was in the Convent, which always passed for one of the most admirable she ever carried into execution. We were pretty good judges in a case of the kind ; for, as may be presumed, we were rendered famiUar with the arts of deception, under so accomplished a teacher. There was an ornament on hand in the Nunnery, of an extra- ordinary kind, which was prized at ten pounds ; but it had been made and exposed to view so long, that it became damaged, and quite unsaleable. We were one day visited by an old priest from the country, who was evidently intoxicated ; and as he withdrew to go lo his lodgings in the Seminary, where the country priests often stay, the Superior conceived a plan of disposing of the old ornament. *• Come," said she, *' we will send it to the old prieM, and swear he has bought it !'' We all approved of the ingenious device, for it evidently might be classed among the pious frauds we had so often recommended to us, both by precept and example ; and the ornament was sent to him the next morning as his property when paid for. He soon came into the Convent, and expressed the greatest suprizc that he had been charged with purchasing such a thing, for which he had no need and no desire. The Suj^erior heard his declaration with patience, but politely insisted that it was a fair bargain : and we then surrounded the old priest with the strongest assertions that such was the fact, and that nobody would have ever thought of his purchasing it, unless he had expressly engaged to do so. The poor old man was entirely put down. He was certain of the truth ; but what could he do to resist or disprove a direct falsehood pronounced by the Superior of a Convent, and sworn to by all her holy nuns ? He finally expressed his conviction that we were right : he was compelled to pay his money. m • -3' *■• ■t MARIA MONK. NOTES, FACTS, CONFIRMATIONS, Sec. 99 The following is extracted from the volume entitled, " Confirmations of Maria Monk's Disclosures." These confirmations we hope to continue throughout the whole course of this work ; l)eside which original documentary evidence is coming to hand. On page 170, the writer says — " For the truth of the following state- ment of facts, I hold myself responsible. A Catholic young woman, ardently de- voted to her religion, by the name of Miss N , lived in the family of Mr. M — -, in New York. In her appearance she was quite prepossessing, and probably of virtuous character, up to the time to which this narrative refers. A short time before Good Friday, which was the first day of last April, she was observed to bo uncommonly devoted to the ceremonies of the church. About this time, she said to a young lady of the family, ' My father Confessor is a going to bestow upon me a wonderful gift, about next Good Friday, if I am faithful to go frequently to confession, and confess all my sins, and answer all the questions which he asks me.' What is it, a new gown ?' replied the lady. ' Oh, no, not a carnal gift, but ti spiritual one ; I am to be exalted, and to be made a spiritual sister.' Miss N. increased her visits to the confessional, going more frequently as the time of her 'exaltation' drew near. At length the time arrived. Miss IT. was to go to con- fess at that time in the evening. She went, but did not return until early the next morning. Sad disappointment and shame were depicted on her countenance. To the question, asking her where she had passed the night, she declined giving a direct answer. On one occasion she said, that she staid in the church all night ; but then it should be known that the house of her father Confessor was in the immediate neighbourhood of the church. Miss N. remained in the family of Mr. M. but a few days after this. I leave my readers to make their own in- ferences. But I would ask, if it be not the duty of the friends of virtue and good order, to discountenance a practice so corrupting and so ruinous to all that is virtuous in the female character, as is that of confession to a corrupt priest. Destroy the confessional, and you at once destroy that fatal power, which the priests now have over their deluded followers ; and until this is done, all your efforts to enlighten and elevate Catholics, will be thwarted by these enemies of the human race. Let, then, every lawful means be used to accomplish this end, roii|ienil|>ering that it is at the confessional those chains are forged, applied, and riveted, which hold in bondage so large a portion of the human family ; a bond- age more dreadful than that of the African slave, because it is the bondage of the soul, which God made in his own glorious image." •Jfi' From " Partridge and Oakey's Female Jesuit" we come to make another extract. We have had a convent lady— a mysterious personage — call at our o&ae : — We expect something will oomo out of this. For the present, we briefly extract her departure from the Convent : — " It was about nine o'clock on the fol- lowing morning, when the I omnibus rolled on, and gradually set down the greater part of its passengers, till four only remained. Among these was the young lady of the convent. It was Marie, whom we introduced in the last chapter. She was reading her Catholic prayer-book, as is the custom of the nuns all leisure moments, when out of it accidentally dropped a little cross. It was picked up by a gentleman who sat opposite to her, and courteilBly returned without a remark. Shortly after, the two other passengers got out, and they were left alone. He then entered into conversation with her, and, presuming that she was a member of the Roman Catholic Church, he gradually led the way to what he conceived to be its errors. The gentleman in questioi) was neither young nor handsome, but the expression of his countenance was strikingly bene- volent, and hi. ' manner most kind and fatherly. The first thought that he might be one of her own Church, seeking to test her fidelity, was soon discarded, and his evident earntstness and sincerity won her entire confidence. She frankly acknowledged ber doubts, and stated her circumstances. He expressed his sur- prise how she or an^ one could read the Bible and continue to be a Roman Catholic. She burst into tears, and told him that slie bad never seen a Bible, and would not bo allowed to possess ono. lie seemed much shocked, and earnestly entreated her to seek advice of some Protestant minister. She told him she had long wished to meet with one, but knew not where or how. He said she could go to some Protestant place of worship, and remain to speak to the minister. She told him that it would not be permitted, and that she could not do it un- observed. He then recommended her to seek one that very day. She expressed 100 MARIA MON'k. i; her willingness to do so. ' To whom should she go ?' and ho began to think. Ther« was a Dr. , a Tery good man, but he did not know where keliTod.and feared it was a long way oflF. There was a Mr. , but ho too lived at some distance. Thero was another minister a Mr. L , who had not long been in London ; the ohapel at which he officiated was near : she had better go to him. She asked whether she might indeed place confidence in this Mr. L . lie assured her that she might. She thanked him, and resolved to follow the advice of her kind friend and adviser, feeling an impression that he bad been sent to her by heaven, in answer to her prayer. The omnibus stopp>cd. lie expressed his regret that he could not show her the way,ltaving business in another direction, and bade her fare- well. It was a feast and gala night in the convent of S , whither Marie was going. Her young attendant's services would be required, so, availing herself of this pretext, on getting out of the omnibus she sent the girl on, promising to follow ns soon as she had completed the business about which she had been sent. She, herself, went to execute a commission, and then commenced her search for Mr. L. Unacquainted with the neighbourood, and timid from her convent life, she wandured about for three hours, getting into courts and places which terrified her, and receiving one answer from all whom she asked, ' that there was no such ohapel in the square.' It was getting dusk, and fatigue and fasting added to her dejection. At length she met with a girl who knew the place, and kindly undertook to be her guide. It was not in the square, but in one of the many streets leading out of it. She rang at the side door, and asked for Mr. L. , and was told tbat he was not there, Rud that he lived between three and four miles off. If Marie had not been ins'pircd with energy and perseverance from above, she would surely have given up in despair. liut she was not to be dismayed, even by this discouraging reply. She inquired farther, and found that there was to w a service at seven o'clock, and that Mr. L would be there a few minutes before that time. Resolving to return, she hastened to where bhc had some other business to transact, and was informed that the lawyer to whom she was sent, would not be home till after seven. This suited very well, as it allowed time to renew her inquiries for Mr. L. , in the interval, and furnished an excuse for a late return to the convent. She walked about for another hour, to while away the time, and returned to street a little after six. It was Mr. L *8 custom to spend the Thursday in visiting his people, and to take tea with one of them before going to service. That evening, as he went his rounds, he felt so unwell that he gave up his usual plan, went straight to the vestry, and asked the pew-opener to send him tea there. lie arrived at out six. But for this un usual circumstance, he would not have been there till just before the service began, and too late to speak to Marie. She arrived a little after six, and was shown into the vestry . Her agitation was extreme, and she glanced round as though the walls had eyes and ears, but his calm and gentle manner soon in- spired her with confidence. There was not time for any lengthened conversation ; such as there was, soothed and comforted her. He gave her a little New Testa- ment, the first she had ever held in her hand, and directed her to come to his house the next day, if she could obtain her liberty for a few hours. From the vestry Maria posted on to the house of the Catholic lawyer, and thence hastened back to the convent. She had paced about for hours, and had not tasted food since early in the morning. All at the convent were too busy to make more than nperal enquiries, and after taking a little refreshment, she retired to her room. She took her Testament from her pocket, and placed it under her pillow, that it might not be discovered during her sleep. But sleep was not for Marie. Thoughts of the past, and dreams of the future, crowded through her excited brain. AH the circumstances of her previous life passed in rapid review before her, and a lifetime yet to come floated on her imagination. Wbiit was to become of her, if after all she did not make her escape, or how she was to be provided for if she did ; f^ars of discovery regarding the past evening, and cogitations as to how she could get away fur a few hours on the morrow, kept her in such a whirl of emotion, that shewould have been overpowered bad it not been for the firm persuasion which possessed her, that the extraordinary meeting with the stranger in the omnibus was the hand of God pointing out her way, and that he would not leave her till he had accomplished her deliverance. Marie was no longer friendless though she knew it not; there were those in whose minds an interest had that night been awakened which was soon to ripen into warm at> tachment, and who talked of her and prayed for her as she lay on her restless couch. And where was he who had opened to her the door of hope, who had seemed to her as an angel from hfaveu ilirecting her way ? Did he think of her ami pray for her that night ? Did be tell the tale of his interview with her MAiUA MONK. 101 to some dear home circle who couhl mingle their prayers with his on her behalf? Does he ever think of her now? Does he ever wish to know what becaroc of her? It is her hope that he may chance to see this book, and learn how, while instant in season and true to his Master's work, his Christian fidelity and love were blessed to her deliverance. And if any of the public journals or reviews should notice her little history, she makes it her request to them that they will repeat the circumstance of his meeting with her, and tell him the gratitu(le she shall ever feel towards him, and how she longs once again to see him and thank him for herself; or how if she may not thank him on earth, she hopes to do so in eternity." In a former number, iu giving some extracts from the Amkuican Paotes- TANT Vindicator, we mentioned the name of a Col. Stone, as having taken an active part in condemning Maria Monk as an impostor. We here annex another quotation from the same paper. Col. Stone states that the interior of the Nunnery, which he pretended to examine, does not correspond with Maria Monk's description of the same ; and then adds, " No alterations whatever have been made within the Hotel Dieu Nunnery since the time Maria Monk at^ya she left that place." 7he Editor of the aforesaid paper says ; — " This is one of the reckless assertions which this new advocate of the Jesuits and nans of Montreal, has permitted himself to make in his narrative of his late investigations. Now, aIt>hough I have been put in possession of the most satis- factory testimony, that every reflecting man at all acquainted with this con- troversy, and the evidence of the case, is fully persuaded that Col. Stone has beeu completely * hoaxed ' by the Montreal uuns and Jesuits ; yet I deem it my duty to detail every new portion of evidence on this point. A few days ago, a Kentleman called on me, with whose brother, a resident of this city, 1 am acquainted. The gentleman is an architect at present residing in Montreal ; an intelligentgentleman,of the highest reputation, ond of an unimpeachable veracity. The points on which my friend . gave me fresh evidence were these : 1. His daughter, an amiable young lady, was a schoolmate of Maria Monk ; he and his wife also knew Maria Monk : the intimacy was kept up between his daughter and M. Monk, after tho latter was in ' the Nunnery,' and after she had taken the veil of the Novice. Miss frequently, along with others, saw Maria Monk in the streets in the novice's habit ; and she, and he himself, and his wife, all knew personally the fact that Maria Monk entered the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, and took the nun's veil. This fact I heard this gentleman state, in an explicit manner. Yet Col. Stone pronounces from the overwhelming evidence of his seeing a certain dozen of rooms, out of some dozen score, more or less, that most truly, and of verity it doth appear that the said Maria Monk never was even •» the nunnery! What a philosopher I The evidence of this young lady fully corresponds with that of Mrs. H. already published in the second edition of the Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk. 2. I drew his particular att«ntion to ' the alterations ' that are said to have been made lately in the nunnery. He gave me the following answer: — 'It must be evident that Col. Stone has not lived in Montreal ; it is perfectly evident that be was a transient visitant ; and not only so, but that he had when there, put himself under the Bishop's party's guidance. Why, every discreet man who pro- fesses to be a Protestant, and who thinks according to the evidence of his own eyes, must smile at the absolute silliness of that editor of your city. The very priests laugh at his weakness and the facility of his being made a tool, and a hoax-monger /' I tell you what I saw with my own eye, and what all my hands to the number of some twenty persons saw, when we did our part of a lofty building, adjacent to the Hotel Dieu Nunnery. From our scaflfoldings we hatl a complete view of the rear of the nunnery, from Notre Dame St. There we saw, during last May, June, and July, between fifteen and twenty men busily employed within the nunnery's outer walls, carrying in timber, stones, and mortar. The work went on briskly for three months ; how much longer I do not profess to say. I do not say they be- gan in May, and stopped in July. But while at our work, we saw them briskly employed for that time. — ' Now ' continued he, — ' they reared and erected no build- ing on the outiide, so far as any one of us cou'd see. They carried their materials within the great building. And if fifteen or twenty men could be so busy, during 8U0h a length of time, in the ineide, and yet make no alterations, it is fairly beyond sober credence. I only state what we saw with our own eyes, and do testinr cji our honour.' 3. 1 also put the usual question to him respecting tho extent of thcAWtiuery ' Sir,' I said to him, ' you are an architect : 1 ask you as one who can, by your i^ 102 MARIA MONK. eye, take a survey of a building and fom a tolerable accurate idea of its extent ; or perhaps vou have stepped the front, what is the extent of that nunnery ?' He replied — ' Mons. Bouohette's dimensions quoted bv you and Col. Stone, are un- • questionably accurate. I am veil acquainted with the size of that nunnery. I have lived near it twenty-one years, And I tell yon, and you may tell the public that the man who can take it on him to say, that he has fully explored all that immense building, from garret to cellar, in about thrte hours, must be either a fool or a knave i I leave you to judge which, for I never saw Col. Stone, and know no- thing of him. I had much couversalion with my friend, also, on the subterranean passage, and on the extent of credit given to Maria Monk, in Montreal. As to the first, he was surprised that any man should ever question the under ground f»is- sage ; and he hesitated not to say, that had Col. Stone been a little with him. during his twenty-one years residence in Montreal, that gentleman never could, without«a gross outraged offered to his conscience, have denied that secret way. In adition to those statements, I may simply add, what I heard lately, a dis- tinguished lady, one of a party reoently from a visit to the nunnery, detail in the presence of the family where she was then on a visit. ' In visiting the apart- ments of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, we reached ' said she, ' what seemed to be tht end and termination of that builaing, or wing. But my son, not satisfied with this, began to examine. He at laso discovered a key hole in the pannel work. Determined to exi)Iore, he placed his eye close to the key hole, and discovered what seemed to him, alighted apartments behind this wall; and the yellow freth pain^ etuek on his brow and note. This created much laughter ; as it was with mnch difficulty he could get it off-' Yet the far-famed McDonald's man with the eteel pointed eane, carefully examined every wall, every chamber, every; closet, from the garret to the cellar, and solemnly declarec that no paint yielded to hie eane; thai there wa* no freth paint to be eeen or found ; no alteration-t whatever .'" r. ^ ■ .; CHAPTER XV. Frequency of the Priest's Visits to the Nunnery— Their Freodom and Crimes — Difficulty of learning their Names — Their Holy Retreat — Objections in our minds— Means used to Counteract Conscience — Ingenious Argu- ments. .,•: . , , -■ : , , -i.. , _" ■; . Some of the priests from the Seminary were in the Nunnery every day and night, and often several at a time. I have seen nearly all of them at different times, though there are about a hundred and fifty in the district of Montreal. There was a difference in their conduct j though I believe every one of them was guilty of licentiousness ; while not one did I ever see who maintained a character any way becoming the profession of a priest. Some were gross and degraded in a degree which few of my readers can ever have imagined ; and I should be unwilling to offend the eye, and corrupt the heart of any one, by an account of their words and actions. Few imaginations can conceive deeds so abominable as they practised, and often required of some of the poor women, under the fear of severe punishmentst and even death. I do not hesitate to say, with the strongest confidence, that ulthough some of the nuns became lost to every sentiment of virtue and honour, especially one of the Congregational Nun- MARIA MONK. i03 ^* nery whom I have before mentioned, St. Patrick, the greater part of them loathed the practices to which they were compelled to submit, by their Superior and priest, who kept them under so dreadful a bondage. Some of the priests I saw I never knew by name ; and the names of others I did not learn for a time, and at last learnt only by accident. They were always called " mon pere,'" (my father ;) but some- times when they had purchased something in the ornament room, they would give their real names, with directions where it should be sent. Many names, thus learnt, and other ways, were whis- pered about from nun to nun, and became pretty generally known. Several of the priests some of us had seen before we entered the Convent. Many things of which I speak, from the nature of the case, must necessarily rest chiefly upon my own word, until further evidence can be obtained ; but there are some facts for which I can appeal to the knowledge of others. It is commonly known in Montreal that some of the priests occasionally withdraw from their customary employments, and are not to be seen for some time, it being understood that they have retired for religious study, meditation, and devotion, for the improvement of their hearts. Sometimes they are thus withdrawn from the world for weeks ; but there is no fixed period. This was a fact I knew before I took the veil ; for it is a fre- quent subject of remark, that such or such Father is on a " holy retreat." This is a term which conveys the idea of a religious se- clusion from the world for sacred purposes. On the re-appear- ance of a priest, after such a period, in the church or in the streets, it is natural to feel a peculiar impression of his devout character — an impression very different from that conveyed to the mind of one who knows matters as they really are. Suspicions have been indulged by some in Canada on this subject, and facts are known by at least a few. I am able to speak from personal knowledge ; for I have been a nun of Sceur Bour- geoise. The priests are liable, by their dissolute habits, to occasional p;' "ks of disease, which render it necessary, or at least prudent, to submit to medical treatment. In the Black Nunnery they find private accomodations, for they are free to enter one of the private hospitals whenever they please ; which is a room set apart on purpose for the accomodation of the priests, and is called a retreat-room. — But an excuse is necessary to blind the public, and this they find in the pretence they make of being in a " Holy Retreat." Many such cases have I known ; and I can mention the names of priests who 'W' 104 MAKIA MONK. have been confined in this " Holy Retreat." They are very carefully attended by the Superior and old nuns, and tliuir diet consists mostly of vegetable soups, &c., with but little meat, and that fresh. I have seen an instrument of surgery lying upon the table in that holy room, which is used only for particular pur- poses. Father Tombau, a Roman priest, was on one of his holy re- treats about the time when I lefl the nunnery. There are some- times a number confined there at the same time. The victims of these priests frequently share the same fate. I have often reflected now greviously I had been deceived iu my opinion of a nun's condition ! — All the holiness of their lives, I now saw, was merely pretended. The appearance of sanctity and heavenly-mindedness, which they had shown among us novices, I found was only a disguise to conceal such practices as would not l)e tolerated in any decent society in the world ; and as for peace and joy Hke that of heaven, which I had expected to find among them, I learned too well that they did not exist there. The only way in which such thoughts were counteracted, was by the constant instructions given us by the Superior and the priests, to regard every doubt as a mortal sin. Other faults we might have, as we were told, over and over again, which, though worthy of penances, were far less sinful than these. For a nun to doubt that she was doing her duty in fulfilling her vows and oaths, was a henious offence ; and we were exhorted always to suppress our doubts, to confess them without reserve, and cheer- fully to submit to severe penances on account of them, as the only means of mortifying our evil dispositions, and resisting the temptations of the devil. Thus we learnt, in a good degree, to resist our minds and consciences, when we felt the rising of a question about the duty of doing anything required of us, To enforce this upon us, they employed various means. Some of the most striking stories told us at catechism by the priests, were designed for this end. One of these I will repeat. " One day," as a priest assured us, who was hearing us say the cate- chism on Saturday afternoon, " As one Monsieur * * *, a well- known citizen of Montreal, was walking near the cathedral, he saw satan giving orders to certain evil spirits who had assem- bled around him. Being afraid of being seen, and yet wishing to observe what was done, he hid himself where he could observe all that passed. Satan dispatched his devils to different parts of the city, with directions to do their best for him ; and they re- turned in a short time, bringing in reports of their success in leading persons of difl^rent classes to the commision of various sins tvnich tliey thought would be agreeable to their master. .'.-^ .m MAKIA MONK. 105 Satan, however, expressed his dissatisfaction, and ordeied them out again ; but just then a spirit from the Black Nunnery came, who had not been seen before, and stated that he had been trying for seven years to persuade one of the nuns to doubt, and had just succeeded. Satan received the intelligence with the highest pleasure ; and turning to the spirits around him, said, " you have not half done your work — he has done much more than all of you." In spite, however, of our instructions and warnings, our fears and penances, euch doubts would obtrude ; and I have often in- dulged them for a time, and at length, yielding to the belief that I was wrong in giving place to them, would confess them, and undergo with cheerfulness, such new penances as I was loaded with. Others, too, would occasionally entertain and privately express such doubts ; though we all had been most solemnly warned by the cruel murder of St. Frances. Occasionally some of the nuns would go further, and resist the restraints and punish- ments imposed upon them ; and it was not uncommon to hear screams, sometimes of a most piercing and terrific kind, from nuns suffering under discipline. ^' Some of my readers may feel disposed to exclaim against me, for believing things which will strike them as so monstrous and abominable. To such, I would say, without pretending to justify myself : — \ou know little of the position in which I was placed : in the first place, ignorant of any other religious doc- trines ; and, in the second, met at every moment by some in- genious argument, and the example of a large community, who received all the instructions of the priests as of undoubted truth, and practiced upon them. Of the variety and speciousness of the arguments used, you cannot have any correct idea. They were often so ready with replies, examples, anecdotes, and au- thorities, to enforce their doctrines, that it seemed to me, they could never have learnt it all from books, but must have been taught by wicked spirits. Indeed, when I reflect upon their conversations, I am astonished at their art and address, and find it difficult to account for their subtlety and success in influencing my mind, and persuading me to anything they pleased. It seems to me that hardly anything would be safe in their hands. If you were to go to confession twice, I believe you would feel very different frona what you do now. They have such a way of avoiding one thing, and speaking of another; of aflirming this, and doubting and disputing that ; of quotii^ authorities, and speaking of wonders and miracles recently performed, in confirmation of what they teach, as familiarly known to persons whom they call by name, and whom they pretend to call as wit- nesses, though they never give you an opportunity to speak with 106 MARIA MONK. them ; — these and many other means, they use in such a way, that they always blinded my mind, and, I should think would blind the minds of others. : i NOTES, FACTS, CONHRMATIONS, &c. i-ii: The portrait of Mary in heaven.— Prom tho French of Napoleon Roussel, Ward and Co. have published a series of neat little tracts. One is under tho above title. It is a correspondence between Maria-Saint-Komain and Josepb-de- Saint-Pierre. The Abbess writes to the Painter requesting a portrait of the Virgin to hang in her cell to help her devotions. The Painter is led to the best of books to see what help he can get as regards form and features. The Painter's reply to tho Abbess is worth its weight in gold, and we must, therefore, give some portion of it to our readers. The following are faithful extracts.—" The Painter to the Abbeii : Cloister of the Assumption, Jan. 4, 1666. My Sister,— Here is, at length, the work completed I— and a conscientiously faithful work, if over there was one. But it is not enough to assert fidelity— I must also prove it : for the portrait which I send you is such, that you might question its likeness if I did not set before you at length the authorities on which rest my pretensions to have achieved the most accurate portrait of tho blessed Mary, as now in heaven, which has ever existed. I will, therefore, enter into detail on the subject. One of the most important points to know, in order to picture a face to yourself is tho person's age. On the arrival of your Bible I therefore directed my first enquiries to Mary's age. I opened the Gospel according to St. Luke, and from the first page I observed that Elizabeth, who conceived only six months before Mary, was then ' Well stricken in years ;' which made me at first suspect that Mary, her cousin, could not be very young at the period when the daughter of her uncle or aunt was very old. The second circumstance which came to my aid in fixing the age of Mary, is that when the miraculous conception took place she was already betrothed. We do i t risk too much in suppsing that Mary was then twenty years old. Setting out thence, let us continue the reckoning. Slary was be- trothed at twenty. After the betrothal Joseph perceived her condition, therefore when she brought her Son into the world, she must have been twenty and a half. From the first chapter of St. Luke I pass to the second. And I see that Mary is still living, because she forgets the child Jesus in the temple of Jerusalem. Moreover, I see from verso 42, that Jesus was then twelve years old. Therefore I conclude that Mary was at that time thirty-two and a half. From the second I proceed to the thira chapter; and therein I learn that Jesus was baptised by John, and began his holy ministry at thirty years. Now Kary was still living, since, as you know, and as we shall see later, she outlived Jesus on the earth. I draw farther this very clear and simple conclusion, that if the mother was twenty years and a half old at the birth of her child, when Jesus had attained the age of thirty, Mary must have arrived at that of fifty and six months. Now how long did the ministry of Jesus Christ last ? It was easy to calculate this by searching out from the beginning to the end of the same gospel, the number of different times during that ministry that Jesus went to celebrate the feast of the Passover at Jerusalem. Thus in St. John ii. 12, 13, I see that Jesus descends to Capernaum, because the Passover was near- If Mary was fifty years and a half old when Jesus began to preach, and if his ministry lasted three years and a half, Mary, when standing at the foot of the Saviour's cross, was exactly fifty-four. Here the Uospel finishes ; but the Acts of the Apostles commence, and there I find Mary again, at prayer with the disciples. Elsewhere I observed that, according to the order of Jesus, the apostle Jonn must have received Mary into his dwelling, liow long did she remain there? This the Holy Scriptures no where say, for there is no farther mention of her whatever. Whether Mary lived one, two, three, ten, or twenty ^cars, I know not. In the silence of the holy Scriptures I suppose she dwelt in this inferior world only five or six years more, which makes her just sixty. It is at that age that Mary would ascend to heaven.' ****** After a lengthened enquiry into the fact that Jesus had uatuml brothers and sisters the Painter says, ' Finally, if Jesus were the only child of Mary, why docs not the holy Scriptme suy so ? It says, indeed, and MAKIA MONK. 107 that several times, that Jesus is the only Son o/Ood; why does it not say also, at least onoe, that he is the only Son of Mary ? If the words are different it is because the facts are different also. We must suppose that authors, inspired by the Holy Spirit, knew how to choose their expreaHious. and that they speak with equal truth when they call Jesus only Son of God, and first-born Son of Mary. From these considerations we must come to this conclusion :— Mary, after having conceived by the Holy Spirit, carried in her virgin womb a body free from pollution, and brought into the world the only Son of God, had accom- plished her supernatural task, and from that time re-entered into the ordinary course of nature ; i. e. became in all things the chaste wife of her husband Joseph. Now then, according to this thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew, Jesus had at this period four brothers and some sisters. The plural of the word sisters represents at least the number two; I therefore draw this final inference: Mary had as children :— Jusus, her first-born ; his four brothers ; and his two sisters. In other words, Mary was mother of seven children. Now, understand, my sister that I felt it right to take account in my picture of this important circumstance, and slightly emaciate the features already aged. But if Mary's advanced age of sixty years, and her seven times renewed maternity, came to my aid to give her the respectable features of a hol^ and good mother, grown old in the experience of life, and alas! in grief also, since the sufferings and death of her first-born Son must have transpierced her soul like a sword ; still none of this could yet teach me anything of tne expression of her face. Were her features beautiful and regular ? or had they nothing very remarkable in them ? Tlio answer to this question appeared to me difficult to find. I even searched the whole New Testa- ment without discovering anything in it to put.me on the track of a direct solution. On the whole. I observed in every page a marked disdain for what has to do with mere outward form. Thus God willed that his divine Son should be born in a manger; should live with artisans ; should die on a cross; all through the Gospel the flesh is abased, and the spirit exalted, therefore appearance is despised, and reality required; throughout, the body of the christian is counted for little, and his soul for much. Consequently, I inclined towards the opinion tlxat such was also the case with the body of Jesus Christ, when a passage of the Old Testament came to confirm me in it. Notice bow Isaiah describes theexterior of the Messiah :— ' He hath no form nor comeliness ; and when we shall see him there is no beauty that we should desire him.' Isa. liii. 2. That is what Isaiah the prophet says. Ah 1 doubtless, my sister, to me as to you, Jesus is the Son of God, and himself Ood ; he isamodelof sanctity, of moral beauty, of magnanimity, of high-souled devotion. Doubtless Jesus is worthy of all our worship. I placed myself before my canvas and seized my pencil, when a new idea struck mc. It is for I^fary as she is now, and not as she was in her childhood or ^outh, that you have asked me, and you are right ; for it is not Mary at her marriage, but Mary after her entrance into heaven who now intercedes for us. Here I had no longer anything in the holy Scripture to guide me. The Church, indeed, speaks of the Assumption of the Virgin, but the Word of God is silent upon it. What could I do?— as a good Catholic submit to the church. I admitted without further hesitation what that good mother teaches ; i. e. that Mary at the close of her earthly life (according to our calculation at sixty years of agej was raised to heaven in body and soul, and placed beside her Sun. This once accepted as a fact how should I represent Mary arriving in Paradise ? Of course, with the features which she had on quitting the earth, since she did not die, but departed with the same body ; but was not the body in any way modified ? Such is the question which I thought I could put to my guide — hitherto so sure — the Word of God. I again went entirely through the New Testament, and here is what I found respecting my subject : — ' In the life to come,' said Jesus to the Sadducees, ' those who are worthy of the resurrection shall neither marry nor be given in marriage because they are like the angels.' Thus Mary, as now in heaven, can neither marry, nor be given in marriage ; she is in a manner neither man nor woman. Jesus says, ' She is like the angels.' Now how are the angels to be represented ? or, at least, what is the essential difference which distinguishes these celestial creatures from human creatures? On the one hand, we must believe that their forms are analagous to ours, because it is thus that they are often pre- sented to the personages of the Old and New Testament ; but, on the other hand, we are told in the 6th chapter of Isaiah, that in the presence of God ' the angels veil their faces with their wings.' Whence I draw this conclu- sion, if not certain, at Icaut probable, that our celestial body must differ in some respects from the present one; and that to us, as well as to the angels, this admirable method of traversing space, and of "angiug from sun to sun, 108 MAKIA MUNK. and from world to world, will be given, that we may aocomplinh the com* mands of our Ood. As to the drapery with which 1 have covered Mary, I was guided, not by our imaginary portraits, in which she is paintod graoe* fully attired in light blue robes; nor have I introduced into her garments those folds, here tightened to define the form, there let loose to hang tastefully r but I have the rather conformed myself to the indications furnished by the Book of Revelation, where great raultitiides of saints are seen enveloped in long white robes. And now, my sistor, I have completed the vindication of my portrait. I hope that you will be pleased with it ; for I have accomplished what I promised — aportraitof Mar\',thcmostfaithftilofallthat have ever been painted.' A year passed awav, and the Abbess replied, — Dear brother in our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ— With feelings of the purest and most vivid joy I address you. Without question you have rendered me the greatest of services ; it is only just that I should endeavour to render as great a one to you in my turn. You believed you were sending me an h. 'nimate portrait, you gave me a living being ; you thought to make me acquainted with a woman, our mediatrix with Christ, you have revealed to me God the Saviour. But this needs explanation. I will unfold the matter from the beginning. You will understand how, on the receipt of your packet, my first glance was at the picture. The sight confounded me I I read your letter; and, although with difficulty, I yielded to your arguments. Afterwards I hung up the blessed portrait in my cell ; yes, blesHd, as you will see. The more I oontemplated those emaciated features, that figure enfeebled by age, the more was I disenchanted, and the more was my veneration for Mary weak- ened. I felt displeased with myself. ' For, after all,' I reflected, ' she is still the very same being, and Marv is not the less powerful with God, for being neither young nor beautiful.' Vainly did I again and again school myself with these fine reasonings ; I was conscious of a oontinnal diminution and failure of affec- tion for my patroness ; and at length I came to perceive that what I had hitherto loved in the Virgin was her young, beautiful, girlish face, and her graceful and pure form ; but not her moral character and intercession with Jesus Christ. HftTing once made this confession, I wished to know for myself this Mary whom 1 still respected, but whom I could no longer adore without diflBoulty. I opened the Bible which you had sent me. There, too, as before the picture, I felt my old ideas vanish one after the other ; and the young, sweet, beautiful Virgin, the mediatrix between Jesus and men, and, moreover, the Queen of heaven, was changed into a humble servant of the I^ord ; happy because she had been received into favour, and who, far from being able to contribute to the salvation of others, herself required to be saved. The following is the pausago which struck me most vividly — ' My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.' See Luke i. 46, 47. If God be her Saviour, i said to myself, then Mary was previously lost ; then she was not sinless; but I continue to quote this por- tion of the Gospel — ' B'or he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.' Ton perceive Mary speaks of her low estate. She adds : ' Henceforth all genera- tions shall call me blessed. For he that is mighty hath done unto me great things.' Tbusj then, if Mary was exalted, it was by God, and not by herself. But listen again to what the angel Gabriel says to her at verse 30 of the same chapter — ' Mary, thou hast found grace before God.' Now, you understand that to find grace it is necessary to havf sinned : you feel that it would, for instance, be ridiculous to say that God has bestowed grace or pardon on Jesus Christ ; ridiculous, because he did not sin. Notwithstanding, do not think my great joy comes fruui the discovery that Mary was only a favoured and blessed woman, like every woman who is parrloncd and saved. No; but directly I had dethroned this idol from the sovereignty of my heart, the place was prepared for him who should always have filled it. Yes; in seeking to know Mary from the Bible, I learned better to appreciate Jesus Christ, my only and well-beloved Saviour. And that which 1 find in him is not what I formerly sought in Mary, a carnal body, chiselled in this or that form : but a soul, a heart, a love, which nothing here below can worthily express. Ah! dear brother, when 1 saw the Son of God quit the heavens to come and live on the earth ; when I followed him at every st«p instructing the people, curing the sick, visiting the poor, from whom he expected nothing; blaming the great, at the risk of their displeasure; and, above all, when I heard this Saviour say to me : 'Come unto me, you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest; he who believes in me shall not die; I (dve m^ life for the sheep.' And, lastly, when bavin r thus listened to him, I beheld him ascend a cross to expiate my sins, and exclaim in death, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do !' Uh, then I felt my heart bum within me, emotion overcame inc, my eyes overflowed with tears, and I cried : MAKIA MONK. 109 'My Lord and my God; I am at length Baved.' Since then, every thing hai seemed new to me ; those Christian truths whioh I already called mine, seem, like beautiful images which have suddenly received life and motion. The Uospel, Christ, heaven, God, became realities to me. I felt in my heart a divine guest ex- plaining the word of God, rendering the good Trhich had hitherto been so difficult tomeeasy, and disgusting me with the evil formerly so sweet. I am as though I bad been transported into a new world, where the ideas, the feelings, all things are different from the world of yesterday ; and this new world began to surround me on the day when I truly felt that I was fully and freely saved by Jesus Christ. And you, dear brother, will you not also finish the way which you have already half travelled? You have restored the Virgin to her place, will you not also restore our Lord and Savioar Jesus Christ to His f Ah, believe me, true peace, true joy, is there alone. Take this Bible [not the same, for I keep that myself] ; read it every day, praying for the Holy Spirit ; and, be assured, you will soon find a better than Mary, the Mediatrix; you will meet Jenu hitntelf, our God and Saviour I" lR«ader— in this way may every idol be dethroned tnra thy heart, and Jesus alone revealed and exalted there.— EP'1 CHAPTER XVI. Treatment of young Infants in the Convent — Talking in sleep — Amusements- Ceremonies at the public Interment of deceased Nuns — Sudden Dis- appearance of the Old Superior — Introduction of the new one— Super- stition — Alarm of a Nun — Difficulty of Communication with other Nuns. It will be recollected, that I was informed, immediately after taking the veil, that infants were occasionally murdered in the Convent. I was one day in the nun's private sick room, when I had an opportunity, unsought for, of witnessing deeds of such a nature. It was, perhaps, a month after the death of St. Frances. Two little twin babes, the children of St. (>atherine, were brought to a priest, who was in the room, for baptism. I was present while the ceremony was performed, with the Su- perior and several of the old nuns, whose names I never knew, they being called Ma tanta, (Aunt^. The priests took turns in attendmg to confession and catechism in the Convent, usually three months at a time, though sometimes longer periods. The priest then on duty was Father Larkin. He is a good looking European, and has a brother who is a Pro- fessor in the College. He first put oil upon the heads of the infants, as is the custom before baptism. When he had baptized the children, they were taken, one after another, by one of the old nuns in the presence of us all. She pressed her hands upon the mouth and nose of the first so tight that it could not breathe : and in a few minutes, when the hand removed, it was dead I She then took the other, and treated it in the same way. No sound was heard, and both the children were corpses. The great- est indifference was shown by all present during this operation ; no MARIA MONK. for all, as I well knew, were long accustomed to such scenes. The little boion, &c. The conversation which passed at that time made but little impression upon my mind. But soon after, the 'Seligietise' (by the term Religiewe 1 mean those who constituted the Ursuline community,) came from Boston, to take posbossion of Mount Benedict as their new situation. We were in school, but had permission to look at then as they passed. One of the scholar! remarked, that they were Roman Catholics, and that 0U4 parents disapproved of their tenets. The young lady who before eskcd the question how we should like to become nuns, and whose name I have forgotten, was affected even to tears in conseqience of what passed, and begged them to desist, taying, ' they were saints ; God's people ; «nd the chosen few ; ' that, ' they secluded tbemtelvet that they might follow the Scriptures more perfectly, pray for the con> version of lianers, and instruct the ignorant (by the term ignorant is meant what they term heretics,^ in the principles of religion. This conversation with the solemn appearance of the nuns, afltsoted me very sensibly, owing probably to the peculiar state of my feelings. The impressions thus Inade remained on my mind several months ; and at the age of thirteen years and four months, I asked my parents if they were willing I should become an inmate of the convent. This proposition my parents were inclined to treat as visionary ; bat they soon discovered themselves to be in on error. Nothing of consequence was said upon the subject ; but soon after, owing to the de'.ioacy of my health, and other reasons, it was deemed expedient for me to visit my friends in New Hampshire ; and being fond of retirement, this arrangement accorded very well with my feelings. While in New Hampshire I spent many many pleasant hours, which I think of with delight. Memory oft brings to view and faith- fully delineates those hours of retirement and happiness which I imagined I should siiend were I an inhabitant of a cloister. While writing this narrative, I often lament my little 'knowledge of history ; for, had I been more acquainted vrith it, I do not think I ever should have united myself to an institution of this nature. Bu to proceed : I never could prevail on my parents to say much on this subject. I kept silence, resolving in my own mind to become acquainted with some one who would introduce me to the superior of the Ursul^e community, but did not ask any one till after the death of my mother. Previous to that event, I had become acquainted with MIe^s M. H., a domestic in Mr. H. J. K's family, near my father's house, in Charlcstown. After my mother's decease, while residing with my father, my sisters being absent. Miss H. came to our house and begged me to keep her as a domestie a little while, us she bad no place. She had walked a great way for the purpose of seeing Mr. K., who bad moved away. T! was in the fall of 1830. After consulting with my father, I concluded to let her stay, -iho found me in great trouble and grief, in consequence of the absence of my two younger sisters, whom I very dearly loved, and who had gone to reside with my sisters at Boston. After family prayers were over, and I was about retiring, I stepped from my room to sec if Mips H. had extinguished hrr lamp ; when, to my surprise, T found her kneeling and holding a string of beads, I asked her what she was doing. She did not speak fur some time. When she did, she said she was saying her ' Hall Maiys.' {CathoUc Prayer, translated from the Latin. — ' Hail Mary ! full of grace ; our Lord is with thee I Blessed art tliou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus I Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us, sinners, now at the hour of our death. Amen.'J I asked her what the ' Hail Marys' were, at the same time to'iing bold of the beads. She then said, ' I say my prayers on these to the Blessed Virgin.' My friends will of course excuse my curiosity at this time, for I had never before learned their manner of praying to saints and angels. Before I left her she showed me an Agnvs Dei, (I.amb of God ; a small piece of wax sewed np in silk, in the form of a heart,) which she wore to preserve herself ttata the temptations of Satan. I cannot remember all the conversation whieh passed the next day on the subject ; bat I learned that she had been acquainted with the nuns nt Boston, and was also acquainted with the superior. The first pleasant day, I asked her to accompany me to the superior, which she did, and appeared by her questic s to know my motive. She intro. dnoed me to the superior in the following manner : — '*Ve were invited by a lay sister (those nuns who are occupied in domestic affairs) to sit ; who, after retiring, in a few momenta AUHIA MONK. 115 made her appearance, reqneatiiig Miss II. to see her in another room. Soon after the superior came in, and embraced me with much seeming affection, and put the following questions to me : — how long since the death of my mother ; whether I ever attended the Catholic Church, or knew any thing of the principles of their religion ; what I had heard respecting them ; of their order ; my views of it ; what progress I had made in my studies ; whether I had attended much to history ; knew anything of embroidery, drawing, or painting, or any other ornamental work ; whether I had ever assisted in domestic affairs. After which questions, taking my hand, she said, ' O, it feels more like a pancake than any thing else.' (This may appear laughable ; but as I intend to publish all which will be for the benefit of the reader, I cannot refrain from mentioning this ; in order to show the course of flattery, &c., made use of by the superior and those connected with the establishment, to draw the inexperienced into their power, and make them converts to the religion of the Pope.) She inquired in what capacity I desired to enter the institution, whether as a recluse or a scholar ; whether I had done attending school, &o. I replied, that I did not consider my education complete ; that I wished to go into the school attached to the nunnery, on the same terms as other pupils, until I had made sufficient progress to take the veil, and become a recluse ; that my father was averse to my becoming a nun, but I was of opinion that he would concur with my Episcopal friends in not objecting to my becoming a pupil. In the course of the interview, the superior conversed much upon the Scriptures, and intimated that I ought to make any sacrifice, if ne- cessary, to adopt the religion of the cross ; repeating the words of our Saviour, ' He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me,' &c. At a subsequent interview, the superior desired me to see the bishop or clergy, remarking, she believed I had a vocation for a religious life, and the bishop would tell me whether I had or not. She also asked if I was acquainted with a Catholic friend who would introduce me to the bishop, and mentioned a Mr. B., who would introduce mo to him. I was unacquainted with Mr. B., but had seen him at my sister's house in Boston. She said that the bishop or Mr. R. would also discuss the matter with my father, and reconcile him to Catholicity. After consulting some friends who were in favour of the Catholic religion, I consented to see Mr. B., who, being requested, called at my father's, gave me some Scripture proofs of the infallibility of the Bomish Church ; as, ' Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not . prevail against it ;' and ' whose sins ye retain, they are retained, and whose sins ye remit, they are remitted.' ' He that will not hear the church, let him be to thee as an heathen man and a publican.' He (Mr. B.^ desired I would secret the paper upon which the tests were quoted. He then took his leave, saying he would call to see me in town soon, at the Misses 8., when he would introduce me to the bishop. I will here remark, that previous to my join- ing the community, I heard of many miracles wrought by Catholic priests. Mrs. G. brought a lady one day in a chaise to show me her eyes, which were restored by means of a priest. Dr. O'F. She, as Mrs. O. stated, was totally blind ; but having faith in miracles, she knelt to her confessor, requosting him to heal her. After touching her eyes with spittle and holy oil( she ' immediately received her sight.' " • . . ^,> ,, ; We pass over a lengthened detail of preliminary ciroumstances, and flrequent interviews with the bishop and the superior, and notice only in our way, the following description of her introduction to the Catholic Ohurch :— " The ordinance of baptism was administered to me by Mr. B., himself, and a Mrs. P. stand- ing sponsors for me ; my former baptism being considered by the Catholics invalid. At the time of my baptism I was anointed with oil ; a piece of salt was put in my mouth, the priest breathing three times upon me, and touching my eyes, ears, and nose with spittle, speakinf Latin all the while. They profess to take these ceremonies from the Scriptures. While in Charlestown, I stood sponsor for Mrs. G.'s daughter, of whom I shall speak in the course of this narratiij." Omitting again several particulars, we find Miss Reed now in the convent. Some sketches of her drawing will further confirm the nature of these secret bastiles. " After preparing myself for a public reception, I visited the superior ; when she said, if I would plaoe myself under her care from this time, she would protect me for ever ; and par- Uoularly from the persecution of the 'heterodox;' and she looked to heaven above for her reward. She then stated that the bishop had concluded to receive me, not as a member of the public department, but as a ' novitiate,' which would screen me from the questions of the Protestant scholars. She also added, that I should be received as the other sisters were, and that we were to support ourselves by our talents and industry. She then desired me to kneel down and take the following obligation : — * I do, with the grace and asaUtance of Almighty God, renounce the world for ever, and place myself under your protection, from this day to consecrate myself to his honour and glory, in the house of God, and to do whatever obedience prescribes, and to tell no one of this obligation but Mr. B., in confession.' After this, the >?V IIG MARIA MONK. raperior auramoned two of the ' Choir Rcligienie,' who conducted me to the garden, where they left me to amnee myself. Preiently the Roperlor joined me, wishing to know how I liked the garden, the flowers, ice, Oiwerving a pocket alhum in my hand, she naked me what I bad hoard.ed ap there ; some worldly goods t She l-wV '.*, and examining it, desired to know if I wished to keep some money I had in it Cflfteen dollars). I replied no ; aa I was going to join them, I wonld Intmst it to her care. She also requested me to sing one tune. I complied ; and sung, ' There's nothing true but Heaven.' Her obserration was, she would wish me to commence immediately with musie. I then left the oonTont, and attended the sacaments of Confession and Communion : and on Sabbath morning, August 7th, 1831, I was attended to the gate of the convent by my friend, Mrs. O. I was shown into the public parlour by the lay sister, and was requested to kneel and continue my devotion until the superior made her appearance. She soon came, itnd made a sign for mo to follow her. She led the way into a long room, darkened, at one end of which stood a large crucifix, made of bone, which I was afterwards informed was made of the bones of saints. The superior told me, in a whisper, it was the time of silence ; but, after arranging my dress, she took from her toilet a religious garb, which she placed upon my head, and bade me kiss it, saying it had been blessed by the bishop. She then pronounced a short Latin prayer, while I was kneeling, at the same time giving me her blessing." We have nov a long account of the foolish mnmmeries called Catholic DeTOtion, to vrhioh Miss Reed had to attend. After which she says— " I shall now continue my narrative of the remainder of the first day. The evening bell for the Latin oiBce now rang, and we now assembled at the choir, where we performed such ceremonies aa I before named, until time of retiring. Next morning being holy day morning, the bell rang at three, instead of four, as it usually does, for meditation in the choir. Aftei Litany, the bell rang for diet in the refectory, every morning, except Friday ; on which day we assembled for confession to the superior. The manner of confession to the superior is aa follows : the room is first darkened, and one lighted wax taper placed upon the superior's throne ; and she is considered as filling the place or station of the Blessed Virgin. After taking their placet in the greatest order and silence, the Religieuse responds. Then the lee. turess rends h-om a book called Rules for the Ursuline Order, by Saint Ursula, about com- plaining of the cold, our clothing, food, &c. Ice. They sit on their feet during the reading, a posture extremely painful. The reading finished, the superior whispers to the Sisters to approach her separately, which they do ; each one in her turn approaches, and repeat* tho following : * Our Mather, we acknowledge that we have been guilty of breaking the rules of our Holy Order, by lifting our eyes while walking in the parsage-ways ; in neglecting to take holy water on entering the community and choir ; failing in respect to our superior, and veneration to our Father ; failing in religious decorum, and In respect to our vows — poverty and obedience ; for which we most humbly oik pardon of God, penance and forgiveness of you, our Holy Mother.' As each one finishes, the ' Uoly Mother' gives her advice and penances, and her blessing ; they then kiss her feet, and sometimes make the cross with their tongues on the floor ; then making their inclination, they retire to the choir to perform the penances. This ceremony is very solemn. It is performed until eight o'clock a.m., when we receive our portions, sitting on the floor. Our diet consisted of the plainest kind of food, 7>"iacipally vegetables and vegetable soups, Indian puddings, a&d, very seldom, meat. Our .ea war made of herbs, sometimes of the bitterest kind, yfe partook of this diet in imitation of the Uoly Fathers of the Desert, to mortify our appetites. Pumpkins, stewed with molasses and water, served us sometimes as a dessert. Occasionally we had mouldy bread to eat. A Tery insignificant piece of butter was sometimes placed on our plates. The superior's diet was far better than ours ; sometimes it was sumptuous, wine not excepted, I ascertained this, as I, occasionally, in turn, went round to gather the fragments. She sent me, on two occasions, some apple parings to eat, as a part of my portion. Sometimes the Religieuse deny themselves any diet ; prostrate, kiss the feet of those who remain at table, performing various kinds of penance, while the others are eating and listening to the reading. Those who have permission to deny themselves in the morning, take their work-baskets as they pass to the refectory ; where they sew by candle-light, as the Iccturess is reading. This has a solemn and impressive appearance. • <• • • go^Q gfter i became an inmate of the convent, the bishop came into the community and said. ' How does that little nun T and what have you done with sister Stimson t' The superior answered that she was not fit for the order, and she had sent her on to the Bisters of Charity. He then, addressing me, asked how I liked Mount Benedict. I said, ' Very well, my lord.' He then said, ' O, but you will have to strive with the temptations between the good and evil spirits ;' and he then explained all the horrors of Satan, and asked me where Saint Teresa, my namesake, was, and if I had read her life ; and told me to say, as she did, these words : — ' Now come, all of you ; I, being a true servant of God, will see what you can do against me ;' by way of challenge to the evil ones, and beg her intercession. He told me my sister had been to see if I had taken the veil, or had any thought of taking It ; and he said I might rest contented, as my friends would trouble mc no more. He then told me the diflbrence between a holy life and a worldly life ; MAUIA MUNK. ir sHi fortunate as to make her esoape, to ask, in private confeision, permiaaiun to see my friends, and consult them about going to the ' Sisters of Charity ;' and if they were willing that I should go, she would prooure me a situation, and by letter inform me of it. She was in great distress on account of that letter, which plainly unfolded the motires of the superior." I>OOB SISTER MARY MAGDALENE. What think your readers of Convent kindness after the following which Miss Keed gives us. — " I must again speak of the sufferings of Mary Magdalene. One day she came from the refectory, and being so much exhausted as to be hardly able to ascend the stairs, I offered to assist her. The Superior reprimanded mo for it ; saying, her weakness was feigned, and my pity was false pity. She said to sister Magdalene in a tone of displeasure, if she did not make herself of use to the ' Community,' she would send her back to Ireland ; on which sister Mary Magdalene rose and said ' Mamere, I would like .' The Superior cut short what she was going to say by stamping upon the floor ; and demanding who gave her permission to speak, imposed on her the penance of kissing the floor. The Superior, after this, imposed hardships which she was hardly able to sustain, frequently reminding her that she had but a short time to work out her salvation, and that she must do better if she did not wish to suffer in purgatory. The Superior questioned me about my feelings — wished to know why I looked so solemn. I told her I was ill from want of exercise, that I was not accustomed to their mode of living, &c. She said I must mention it to mv confessor, which I did. The next time the bishop visited us, he was in unusually high spirits, and very sociable ; and he related several stories, which are not worthy of notice in this place. He again asked sister Magdalene when she thought of going to that happy T|lace to receive her crown of glory. She replied, ' Before the celebration of our divine lledeemer's birth, my lord.' He said she ought to be very thankful that she was called so soon. When I was summoned to the Superior, she enquired, as usual, into the state of my feelings ; and when I said I desired to see my friends, she replied, * Why, my dear Agnes, do you wish to see worldly friends ? Whom do you call your friends ? Am not 1 your friend ? Is not the bishop your friend ? If your worldly friends wished to see you, would they not come and see you V I replied, ' Yes.* A few days after this I was taken very ill, and went to the infirmary. Miss Mary Magdalene and myself wore closely watched. I then asked the Superior's permission to write to my friends, and desire them to oome and see me, which she granted ; and also told me to write whatever I pleased. I began to be much dissatisfied with this convent. Not long after this, at private confession, I was questioned very particularly in regard to my views of remaining there for life. I told my confessor that 1 was convinced that order was too austere for me, and immediately burst into tears. lie endeavoured to comfort me by saying I was not bound to that order for life ; I could go to another order. I asked him if I might see my friends, lie answered, ' Yes.' After receiving a promise from him that I should go to any other order I chose, I consented to take the vows. He gave me to understand that I need take no other vows than I should at tho convent of the Sisters of Charity. My reception took place the next day. I refused tho white veil because the Sisters of Charity did not wear it, and it was omitted. The choir was first darkened, and then lighted with wax tapers. The ceremony commenced with ohaunts, prayers, responses, Ac. A book was placed in my hands, which contained the vows I was to take. As near as I can recollect the following is the substance of them : — ' O Almighty and everlasting God, permit me, a worm of the dust, to consecrate myself more strictly to thee this day, in presence of tbjr most holy mother and saint Ursula, and all of thy aaints and martyrs, by living two years a recluse, and by instructing young ladies after the manner of saint Ursula, and b^ taking upon myself her most holy vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, which, with thy grace and assistance I will fulfil.' They all responded ' Amen,' and repeated a long office in Latin. I still continued to wear the black garb, which the bishop blessed ; also a long habit and a string of rosary beads, which were also blessed by the bishop. He wished to know one day how Miss Mary Agnes did, after taking the white vows ; to which the Superior replied, 'Very well.' As time passed on the Superior HMcamc more severe in her treatment, because I objected to pursue my music. My mind had been in such an unhappy state, that I for a long time found it im- possible to study ; and, further, I did not wish to receive instruction, for I had determined not to stay there. I therefore succeeded in obtaining the Superior's permission to occupy my time chiefly with the needle, and assured her that I would again study when I felt bottes. On one of the holy days the bishop o&mc MARIA MONK. 119 in, and, after playinf( upon his flute, addressed the Superior, styling her Made- tnoiselle, and wished to know if Mary Magdalene wanted to go to her long home. The Superior beckoned her to come to tbem, and she approached on her knees. The bishop asked her if she felt prepared to die. She replietl, 'Yes, my lord; but, with the permission of our mother, I have one request to make.' They told her to say on. She said sho wished to be anointed before death, if his lordship thought her worthy of so great a favour. He said, ' Before I grant your request I have one to make ; that is, that you will implore the Almighty to send down from heaven a bushel of gold, for the purpose of establishing a college for young men on Bunker Hill.' He said he had bought the land for that use, and that all the Bisters who had died had promised to present his request, but had not fulfilled their obligations ; and,' says he, 'yo-j must shake hands in heaven with all the sisters who have gone, and be sure an 1 ask them why they have not fulfilled their promise, for [ have waited long enough ; and continue to chaunt your office with us while here on earth, which is the sweot communion of saints.' After she had given her pledge, and kissed his feet, he told the several members of the community to think of what they should like best. I was first called to make my request. I had never seen anything of this kind before, and my feelings were such as I cannot describe ; and continuing silent, the Superior bade me name it. I then naid I lacked humility, and should wish for that virtue. The Roligieuse then made their requests ; one asked for grace to fulfil the vow of poverty ; another, for obedience ; a third, more fervent love for the mother of God ; a fourth, more devotion to her patron saint; a fifth, more devotion in approaching the altar and host ; and so on. The Superior ended it by making the same request as the bishop, adding, the purpose intended was, that the gospel of our Lord and Saviour might be more extensively propagated, and that all Dissenters might be made to turn to the true church and believe. The conversation then turned upon the Pope, and the bishop said the Pope would, perhaps, before long, visit this country ; and when things were more improved, and his new church finished, be should write to the Pope. Not long after this, Mary Magdalene was anointed for death, and took her vows for life, but she continued to wear the white veil. She lived rather longer than was expected, but her penances were not remitted. She would frequently kneel and prostrate all night long in the cold infirmary, saying her rosary, and other penances. She wore next her heart a metallic plate, in imi< tation of a crown of thorns, from which I was given to understand she suffered a sort of martyrdom. This I often saw her kiss and lay on the altar of the crucifix as she retired. Another penance was, the reclining upon a mattress more like a table than a bed. The next day, it being my turn to see that all the vessels which contained holy water were filled, &c., I had an opportunity of looking at Mary Magdalene. Her eyes were partly open, and her face very purple ; she lay pretty still. I did not dare to speak to her, supposing she would think it a duty to tell of it, as it would be an infraction of the rules. The next night I lay thinking of her, when I was suddenly startled, hearing a rattling noise, as I thought, in her throat. Very soon sister Martha fthe sick lay nun) arose, and coming to her said, ' Jesus ! Mary ! Joseph ! receive her soul ;' and rang the bell three times. The spirit of the gentle Magdalene had departed. The Superior came, bringing a lighted wax taper, which she placed in the hand of the deceased. She closed the eyes, and placed the crucifix on the breast. Sister Martha had whispered us to rise, and tnc Superior, observing my agitation, said, ' Be calm, and join with ua in prayer : she is a happy soul.' I knelt accordingly, repeating the litany, until the clock struck two, when we all assembled in the choir, in which was a fire and wax tapers burning. After meditation, matins, lauds, and prayers, and a Novena (a particular supplication) that our requests might be granted, we assembled for diet, and, for the first time, we had some toasted bread. We also had recreation granted in the time of silence. The Superior sent for us, and instructed us how to appear at the burial of our sister Mary Magdalene, and accompanied us to view her corpse. She was laid out in the habit of a professed nun, in a black veil ; her hands were tied together, and her vows placed in them. The Superior re- marked that this was done by the bishop's request. At the evening recreation the bishop appeared in high spirits, and rejoiced that so happy a soul had at last arrived in heaven ; and commenced the ' Dies illae,' on the piano forte, acoom* panied by the voices of the others. He told me I should have Miss Mary Mag- dalene for my intercessor, for she was to be canonised. The Mother-Superior permitted me to embrace the sisters, and gave me the mother-assistant for my mother. She then presented us with the relics of saints, that by their means we might gain indulgences. She mentioned a ' retreat ' as being necessary for our perseverance in a religious life. The second day after this the coffin was placedl 120 MARIA MONK. in the choir, and tho funeral services were performed in the following manner : Dr. O'Flahorty sang the office, while the bishop chanted it. Father Taylor officiated at the altar. Four or iBve of the altar-boys were present, and dressed in their altr^r robes, Ac: two of thorn held wax tapers, a third holy water, a fourth a crucifix. Oneswung incense in the censer oTcr the corpse, and another at the same time sprinlcled holy water upon it. We performed our part by aayint; the ' Dies illfo.' The coffin was then carried to the tomb by two Irishmen. [My feelings were much hurt to witness the manner in which the lid of the coffin was forced down to its ^laco. The corpse had swollen much, and become too largo for the coffin. 1 The bishop, priests, and others followed, singing, and carrying lighted tanera and a large crucifix. The corpse was also followed by some of the young laaies from the public schools, while the Religieuse remained in the conTent. After depositing the coffin in the tomb the clergy retired to dinner. I had until this time kept the secret of my friend Mary Francis; but the bishop perceiving that I grew more discontented, cndcavGarcu to comfort me, by saying tnat I was not bound to that order; but ho wished to know more particularly my reasons for disliking it, and began to threaten me with judgments; and observing my agitation, said he must know what lay so heavily on my mind, lie asked me if it was anything connected with the sickness) and death of Mary Magdalene. I told him "No, not that in particular ; I do not like the Superior.' lie said 1 must tell him instantly all the wicked thoughts that had disturbed my mind, and asked mo various improper Questions, the meaning of which I did not then understand, and which I decline mentioning. I was so confused that I inadvertently spoke Mary Francis' name, and begged hia pardon for listening to her ; and he imme- diately exclaimed, ' Ah ! I know all ; confess to mo what sho told you, and do not dare to deceive me ; you cannot deceive God. I told him nearly all that had passed between Mary Francis and myself." What horrible hypocrisy, cruelly, and infernal deceit these poor nuns arc exposed to ! Read the following :— One day as I was sitting alone in the refectory, in the time of silence, the superior came in, and after kneeling and extending her arms in the form of a cross, she kissed the floor, and rising, walked towards the door ; returning, she seated herself on tho bench beside me. I asked her if i should bring a chair ; she answered '(No,' and inquired how I felt, and why I changed colour while at the table. I replied that my mouth was very sore, and that it hurt me to read. She wished to know what made my mouth sore. I told her I thought it was something I hod eaten. Sho said, laughingly, it was the canker, and asked if it was not sent as a judgment for some sin. I replied I did not know ; I had not felt very well for some days, and thought it was partly owing to the want of exercise. She then sent sister Martha to conduct me into a room at the farther part of the convent, for the first time called a " man i lips, which were sometimes cruelly cut. The object was to stop the screams made by the offender ae soon as possible ; and some of the old nuns delighted in tormenting us. A gag was once forced into my mouth which had a large splinter upon it ; and this cut through my under lip, in front, leaving to this day a scar about hair an inch long. The same lip was several times wounded as well as the other ; but one day worse than ever, when a narrow piece was cut from off the left side of it, by being pinched between the gag and the under fore-teeth : and this has left an inequality in it which is sjtill very observable. One of the most shocking stories I heard, of events that had occurred in the nunery before my acquaintance with it, was the following, which was tola me by Jane Ray. What is un- common, I can fix the date when I heard it. It was on New Year's day, 1834. The ceremonies, customary in the early part of that »ir.y, had been performed after mass in the morning, the Superior had shaken hands with all the nuns, and given us her blessing, for she was said to receive power from heaven to do so only once a year, and then on the first day of the year. Besides this, cakes, raisins, &c., are distributed lO the nuns on that day. While in the community-room, I had taken a sent just within the cupboard door, where T often found a partial shelter from observation with Jane, when a conversation incidently began be« tween us. Our practice often was, to take places there besides one of the old nuns, awaiting the time when she should go away for a little while, and leave us partially screened from the obser. vation of others. On that occasion, Jane and I were left for a time alone ; when, after some discourse on suicide, she remarked that three nuns once killed themselves in the Convent. This happened, s\ie said, not long after her reception, and I !;new, therefore, that it was several years before, for she had been re- ceived a considerable time before I became a novice. Three young ladies, she informed me, took the veil together, or very near the same time, I am not certain which. I know they have four robes it. che Convent, to be worn during the ceremony of taking the veil ; but I have never seen mo<-e than one of them used at a time. Two of the nuns were sister^, and the other their cousin, ^hey had been received but a few days, when information was given one morning that they had been found dead in their beds, amid a profusion of blood. Jane Ray said she saw their corpses, and that they appeared to have killed themselves by opening veins in their arms with a knife they had obtained, and all had bled to dfe%th together. What was extraordinary, Jane Rav added, thai she had heard no noise, and th^t she believed nobody had suspected that any thing was wrong during the night. St. Z_ MARIA MONK. 127 Hypollte, however, had stated, that she found them in the morn, ing, after the other nuns had gone to prayer, lying lifeless in their heda. For some reason or other, their death was not made public ; but their bodies, instead of being exhibited in full dress in the chapel, and afterward interred with solemnity beneath it, were taken unceremoniously into the cellar, and thrown into the hole I have so often mentioned. There were a few instances, and only a few, ir. which we knew any thing that was happening in the world ; and even then our knowledge did not extend out of the city. ' I can recall but three occasions of this kind. Two of them were when the cholera pre- vailed in Montreal ; and the other was the election riots. The appearance of the cholera, in both seasons of its ravages, gave us abundance of occupation. Indeed, we were borne dowti more by hard labour at those times than ever before or afterward during my stay. The Pope had given early notice that the burning of wax candles would afford protection from the disease, because so long as any person continued to burn one, the Virgin Mary would in- tercede for him. No sooner, therefore, had the alarming disease made its appearance in Montreal, than a long wax candle was lighted in the Convent for each of the inmates, so that all parts of it in use were artific.illy illuminat' -^ day and night. Thus a great many candles were constantly burning, which were to be replaced from those manufactured by the nuns. But this was a trifle. The Pope's message having been promulgated in the Grey Nunnery, the Congregational Nunnery, aii.J. to Catholics at large through the pulpits, an extraordinary demand was created for wax candles, to supply which we were principally depended upon. All who could be employed in making them were there- fore set at work, and I, among the rest, assisted in difTerent depart- ments, and witnessed all. Numbers oi the nuns had long been familiar with the business; for a very considerable amount of wa-i had been annually manu- factured in the Convent ; but now the works were much extend- ed, and olher occupations in a great degree laid aside. Large quantities of wax wore received in the building, which was said to have been imported from England ; kettles were placed in some of the working-rooms, in which it was clarified by heat over coal flres, and, when prepared, the process of dipping commenced. The wicks, which were quite long, were placed hanging upon a r»el, taken up and dipped in succession, until, after many slow revolutions of the reel, the candles were of the proper size. They were then taken to a part of the room where tables were prepared for rolling them smooth. This is done by passing a roller over them, until they become even and polished, after which they are vsy" 128 MARTA MONK, i 1 f i li laid by for sale. These processes caused n constant bustle in several of the rooms ; and the melancholy reports from without, of the ravages of the cholera, with the uncertainty of what might be the result with us, notwithstanding the promised intercession of the Virgin ; and the brilliant lights constantly burning in such numbers around us, impressed the scenes I used to witness very deeply on my mind. I had very little doubt, myself, of the strict truth of the story we had heard about the security con- ferred upon those who burnt candles, and yet I sometimes had serious fears arise ''ri my mind. These thoughts, however, I did my utmost to regard as great sins, and evidence of my own want of faith. It was during that period that I for.ned a partial acquaintance with several Grey Nuns, who used to come frequently for supplies of candles for their Convent. I had no opportunity to converse with them, except so far as the purchase and sale of the articles they required. I became familiar with their countenances and appearances, but was unable to judge of their characters or feel- ings. Concerning the rules and habits prevailing in the Grey Nunnery, I therefore remained as ignorant as if I had been a thousand miles oflf ; and they had no better opportunity to learn any thing of us beyond what they could see around thepi in the room where the candles were sold. We supplied the Congregational Nunnery also with wax can- dles, as 1 before re;narked ; and in both those institutions, it was u iderstood a constant illumination was kept up. Citizens were a!so frequently running in to buy canuies, in great and small quantities, so that the business of storekeeping was far more laborious than common. We were confirmed 'n our faith in the intercession of the Vir- gin; when we found that we remained safe from the cholera ; and it is a remarkable fact, that not one case of that disease ex- isted in the Nunnery, during either of the seasons in which it proved so fatal in the city. When the election riots prevailed in Montreal, the city was thrown into general alarm j we heard some reports, from day to day, which made us anxious for ourselves. Nothing, however, gave me any serious thoughts, until I saw uncommon movements in some parts of the nunnery, and ascertained, to my own satis- faction, that there was a large quantity of gunpowder stored in some secret place within the walls, and that some of it was removed, or prepared for use, under the direction of the Su- perior. Penances. — I have mentioned several penances in different parts of this narration, which we had sometimes to perform. There is a great variety of them ; and, while some, though trifling MARIA MONK. 129 in appearant^e, became very painful, liy long endurance or frequent repetition, others are severe in their nature, and would never be submitted to, unless through fear of something worse, or or a real belief in their efficacv to remove guilt. I will mention here such as I tecollect, which can be named without offending a virtuous ear ; .'or some there were, which, although I have been obliged to submit to, either by a misled conscience, or the fear of severe punishments, now that I am better able to judge of my duties, and at liberty to act, I would not mention or describe. Kissing the floor is a very common penance ; kneeling and kissing the feet of other nuns is another ; as are kneeling on hard peas, and walking with them in the shoes. We had repeat- edly to walk on our knees through the subterranean passage, leading to the Congregational Nunnery ; and sometimes to eat our meals with a rope round our necks. Sometimes we were fed only with such things as we most disliked. Garlic was given to me on this account, because I had a strong antipathy against it. Eels were repeatedly ^);iven some of us, because we felt an un- conquerable repugnance to them, on account of reports we heard of their feeding on dead carcases in the river St. Lawrence. It was no uncommon thing lor us to be required to drink the water in which the Superior had washed her feet. Sometimes we were required to brand ourselve» with a hot iron, so as to leave scars ; at other times to whip our naked flesh with, several small rods, before a private altar, until we drew blood. I can assert with the perfect knowledge of the fact, that many of the nuns bear the scars of these wounds. One of our penances wa^) to stand for a length of time with our arms extended, in imitation of the Saviour on the cross. The Chemin de la croix, or Road to the Cross, is, in fact, a ^nance, though it consists of a variety of prostrations, with the ''^petition of many prayers, occupying two or three hours. This /e had to perform frequently, gomg into chapel, and falling be- ffi^e each chapelle in succession, at each time commemorating some particular act or circumstance reported of the Saviour's progress to the place of crucifixion. Sometimes we were obliged to sleep on the floor in the winter, with nothing over us but a single sheet ; and sometimes to chew a piece of window glass to 8 fine powder, in the presence of the Superior. We had someti.nes to wear leathern belts stuck full of sharp metallic points, round our waists, and the upper part of our arms, bound on so tight, that they had penetrated the flesh, and drew blood. Some of the penances were so severe, that they seemed too 9 K ^nere tool, in the hands of others, who have fabricated and published them in her name. But this, I trust, has been shown to the satisfaction of the reader, to be untrue. It has been shown, that she, and she alone, is the authoress of the dark tale, which she has published to the astonishment of the people of this country. Miss Monk is young, and possesses a mind altogether undisciplined by study. Her education is inferior to that of ordinary country girls. Habits of study she has none. Her knowledge of books is, or was when she first arrived in New York, next to nothing. And if the ' Awful Exposure' gives us a true history of her life, she has never been either a nun, or a Roman Catholic ; but ' has led the life of a stroller and a prostitute.' If this bo true, it is asked how a girl of her age, charactei^. and attainments, could possibly fabricate such a book as her ' Awful Disclosures V The supposition beggars all belief, but that of blindness. If sho has fabricated them, Rome, with its numberless saints, may be fearlessly challenged to produce a miraclo any thing like as great. Besides, on the supposition that she had fabri- cated her ' Disclosures,' it is impossible that she should have been able to act the Eart of an impostor, up to the present time, without being detected. Many minds ave been at work, for more than a year past, endeavouring to develope her true character. Both friends and foes have been thusemployed. Had she been an impostor, itwould have been discovered, long before this day. She constitutionally possesses transparency of character, to an uncommon degree. Hence the predominant workings of her mind are very apparent to a penetrating observer. She has very Httle of that systematic concealment and forethought, so necessary to a successful impostor. Her openness of character, constitutionally considered, is almost the first thing observed by an intelligent stranger who may chance to see and converse with her. Hence, if such a person has been sceptically disposed in regard to the general truth of her claims, his scepticism, in perhaps nineteen cases out of 132 MARIA MONK. twenty, has been removed by a tree conversation with her. Such an individual readily perceives, that her mental constitution is such, as totally to disqualify her to act the part of protracted imposture. The argument, therefore, under this head, is twofold— being founded, on her incapacity to create her ' Disclosures', and on the supposition that she possessed such ability, her incapacity to have Bocoessfully concealed her imposture up to the present time. 2nd. Her minute, mut egtetmve nunnery knowledge, connected with the eaie and dexterity with which >he can perform the many ceremonies of a convent,ca,n he Accoanted for, oa no other supposition, than that of her having been a nun, as she states. Her practical knowledge of Popery and Jesuitism, of priests and nuns, of the furniture and diversified apartments of the Hotel Dieu, of the ceremonies and practices of that establishment, is such as could have been acquired by her, only by a residence of years in that convent. She is as familiar with the mummery of Popish observances, as a school-boy is with his alphabet— such as penances, hymns, Latin prayers, &o. &c., though she is as ignorant of the meaning of Latin words, as she is of the Chinese language. The same is true with reference to the ease with which she performs the various bodily ceremonies, some of which she speaks of in her book, such as falling upon her kness, and standing erect upon them, &c. &a. With the Komish catechisms Ae is perfectly familiar. In a word, she is, in regard to these matters, all that we might suppose her to be, on the supposition that she has, for years, been a resi- dent in the convent. Speaking in the language of common life, ' she has learned her trade.' And no man in his senses, can understandingly deny it. How, then, Cac this evidence be resisted? 3. Her ignorance of life, disconnected from convents, can be accounted for, only on the supposition of her having lived a conventual life. 1 speak now with special reference to what she was, when she first arrived in New York, in the spring of 1836. At that time, her acquaintance with matters and things, as they appear in the domestic circle, and in ordinary life, was very limited. She was evidently a comparative stranger to them ; whilst all her movements and manners were such, as bespoke her former life to have been that cf a cloistered nun. Says Mr. Uilliker, in his affidavit : — * We observed also, that she always folded her hands under her apron when she walked, as she has described the nuns as doing, in her ' Awful Disclosures.' 4. The marks on her person, which were pro- duced by sufferhig by penances, and other violent treatment, afford an argument in support of her claims. She has several of these, as she states in her first volume. She speaks of having worn a broad belt round her waist, ' stuck full of sharp points, for the mortification of her spirit.' The writer of this has been informed by a respectable lady, who examined Miss Monk's waist, that the soars produced by this belt, are very manifest. To use her own language, ' it looks distressing.' The marks of gagging are seen on her lips; and therearescars also on her thumbs, which were ' cut severely by the tight drawing of the band used to confine her arms.' These are the signs cl Romish penance and violence. But the ' Awful JEiZposure' tells us she has never been a Roman Catholic' The circumstances, m «onnexion with which she was first discovered by Mr. Hilliker, and his associates, after her arrival in the city of New York, afford an argument in proof of Miss Monk's honesty ; as is seen in Mr. Uilliker's affidavit.* She was discovered by Mr. Hilliker and his companions in a retired place, above the city of New York, where she had secreted herself for several days, and where she had evidently made up her mind to die. She was not far from death when thus found; and it was wit'.i uiiich ''i nexion with Miss Monk's confession to the Rev. Mr. Tappin : — Ist. The manife$t absence of every sini»termotive, hy yrhich ahe could have been influenced in making these communications to him. What earthly motive could have influenced her 7 lievenge to the priests ? Certainly not ; for she had no idea that her confessions would go beyond the mind of him whom she then considered as her confessor. The same reply may be given to the insinuation, that she did it in order to mitigate •her unfortunate situation, in being the mother of an illegitimate child ; or that she did it for the purpose of securing any earthly good whatever. 2nd. The only motives which appeared to be present, at the tim«, to her mind, were such as arise from tfie apprehension of speedy dissolution, connected with the solemn retributions of eternity. Was it, then, within the limits of possibility, under such circumstances, for her to have acted the part of a diabolical impostor ? Is not the supposition utterly incredible? How then can it be otherwise, than' that she is honest in putting forth her claims as an ex-nun ? I would only add that the hand of God is ex- tremely manifest in bringing to light Miss Monk's statements respecting the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, in a manner so convincing to every reflecting mind. Let, then, her sad tale be believed; and let it produce the benign effects, in counter- acting vice and error, which, under the government of the Supreme disposer of all events, it is adapted to do. 7. Tlie consistency of Miss Monk's conduct with the demands of truth, furnishes an argument favourable to her claims. She has acted just as one might suppose she would have done, on the supposition that she was honest in giving her disclosures to the world. Her circumstances have been peculiarly trying, arising in part from her comparative ignorance of the world, connecteoi with the discredit which has been thrown upon her statements,, and the conse- quent violent denunciations which have been heaped upon her by Protestants, especially editors of newspapers, who have taken very little pains to investigate the subject. Often has she felt, as if she had scarcely a real friend on earth— as if all the world was against her, making her the helpless victim of its combined contempt and indignation. Yet amidst all her trials, she has exhibited, to those around her, that she felt an unwavering consciousness of standing upon the truth ; and that the God of truth would one day vindicate her honesty. Being possessed naturally of an unusual degree of sensibility, and feeling her forlorn situation, it is true, she has often wept in secret places, for having published her dark story, not because of its untruth, but because of the cruel treatment she has received in consequence of it. She has Invariably manifested a very strong desire that the truth of her charges against the Roman priests and nuns of Lower Canada, might be tested by some equitable tribunal. Hence her visit to Montreal for this purpose, in the August of 1835, and before she ever thought of publishing a book. She then and there solemnly appealed to the civil authorities, to investigate their truth. She was accompanied by two American gentlemen, of the legal profession, who assisted her in presenting her charges in due form, attested on oath, to the Attorney General for prosecution. And after spending some three or four weeks, in fruitless attempts to secure the object of her visit, she returned to New York. While at Montreal, it was denied by the Priests that she had ever been an inmate of the Hotel Dieu. She at once offered a fair test of the fact, which, by a very little trouble, would have settled the point beyond the power of contradiction. She proposed a description of the interior of the convent— its furniture, its inmates and different apartments, and their uses — and staked her all upon its correctness. But the application of it was not allowed by her opponents; on what ground, no mortal can conjecture, unless it were that they were afraid to abide the results. On the fourteenth day of last July, I received a letter ttom the Rev, Mr. Perkins of Montreal, informing me, that on the following day a conk- mittee of gentlemen were to apply the test, which she had proposed nearly (me year before. The thought immediately occurred to me, if she he an impostor I can now discover it, by communicating to her this unexpected intelligence. K applied the test, in the best manner to accomplish the end in view, that I was capable of; and the result was such, as decidedly deepened my convictions of her honesty. Other particulars might be mentioned, were it necessary, all going to show the consistency of her conduct, with the supposition, that she feels herself standing upon the rock of truth." *;•;• I) :i 134 MAniA MONK. CHAPTER XVIII. ' The punishment of the Cap— The Priests of the District of Montreal have free aocess to the Black Nunnery — Crimes committed and required by them — The Pope's Command to commit indecent crimes — Characters of the Old and New Superiors — The timidity of the latter — I began to be ' emplojred in the Hospitals — Some account of them — Warning given me by a sick Nun — Penance by Hanging. This punishment was occasionally resorted to for very trifling offences, such as washing the hands without permission ; and it was generally applied on the spot, and before the other nuns in the community-room. I have mentioned before that the country, so far down as Three BiverSj is furnished with Priests by the Seminary of Montreal ; and that these hundred and fifty men are liable to be occasionally transferred from one station to another. Numbers of them are often to be seen iu the streets of Montreal as they may find a home in the Seminary. They are considered as having an equal right to enter the Black Nunnery whenever they please ; and then, according to our oaths, they have complete control over the nuns. To name all the works of shame of which they are guilty in that retreat would require much time and space, neither would it be necessary to the accomplishment of my object, which is the publication of but some of their criminality to the world, and the development, in general terms, of scenes thus far carried on in secret within the walls of that Convent, where I was so long an inmate. • Secure against detection by the world they never believed that tin eye-witness would ever escape to teY' of their crimes, and declare some of their names before the world ; but the time has come, and some of their deeds of darkness must come to the day. I have seen in the Nunnery the priests from more, I presume, than a hundred country places, admitted for shameful and criminal purposes ; from St. Charles, St. Denis, St. Marks, St. Antoine, Chambly, Bertier, St Johns, &c., &c. How unexpected to them will be the disclosures I make ! Shut up in a place from which there has been thought to be but one way of egress, and that the passage to the grave, they con- sidered themselves safe in perpetrating crimes in our presence, and in making us share in their criminality as often as they chose, and conducted more shamelessly than even the brutes. These debauchees would come in without ceremony, concealing their names both by night and day. Being within the wails of MARIA MONK. 135 that prison-house of death, where the cries and pains of the injured innocence of their victims could never reach the world for relief or redress for their wrongs, without remorse or shame they would glory, not only in satiating their brutal passions, but even in torturing, in the most barbarous manner, the feelings of those under their power; telling us, at the same time, that this mortifying the flesh was religion, and pleasing to God. The Aore they could torture us, or make us violate our own feelings, the more pleasure they took in their unclean revelling ; and all their brutal obscenity they called meritorious before God. We were sometimes invited to put ourselves to voluntary sufferings in a variety of ways, not for a penance, but to show our devotion to God. A priest would sometimes say to us — " Now which of you have love enough for Jesus Christ to stick a pin through your cheeks ?" Some of us would signify our readiness, and immediately thrust one through up to the head. Sometimes he would propose that we should repeat the operation several times on the spot ! and the cheeks of a number of nuns would be bloody. There were other acts occasionally proposed and consented to, which I cannot name in a book. Such the Superior would some- times command us to perform ; many of them things not only useless and unheard of, but loathsome and indecent in the highest possible degree. How they could ever have been invented I never could conceive. Things were done worse than the entire exposure of the person, though this was occasionally required of sevecal at once in the presence of the priests. The Superior of the Seminary would sometimes come and inform us that he had received orders from the Pope to request that those nuns who possessed the greatest devotion and faith should be requested to perform some particular deeds, which he named or described in our presence, but of which no decent or moral person could ever endure to speak. I cannot repeat what would injure any ear not debased to the lowest possible degree. I am bound by a regard to truth, however, to confess that deluded . women were found among us who would comply with those re- quests. ■ ! ' " 'I There was a great diflference between the characters of our old and new Superior, which soon became obvious. The former used to say she liked to walk, because it would preyent her from becoming corpulent. She was, therefore, veiy activ??, and con- stantly going about from one part of the Nunnery to another, overseeing us at our various employments. I never saw in her any appearance of timidity : she seemed, on the contrnry, bold and masculine, and sometimes more than that, cruel and cold- blooded in scenes calculated to overcome any common ncrson. -^' ,*■ 136 MARIA MONK. Such a character she had particularly exhibited at the murder of St. Frances. I'he new Superior, on the other hand, was so heavv and lame that she walked with much difficulty, and consequently exercised a less vigilant oversight of the nuns. She was also of a timid disposition, or else had been overcome by some fright in her past life ; for she was apt to become alarmed in the night, and never liked to be alone in the dark. She had long performed the part of an old nun, which is that of a spy upon the younger ones, and was well known to us in that character, under the name of Ste. Margarite. Soon afWr her promotion to the station of Superior, she appointed me to sleep in her apartment, and assigned me a sofa to lie upon. One night, while I was asleep, she suddenly threw herself upon me, and exclaimed, in great alarm, *' Oh! mon Dieu ! mon JDieu ! quVest que ea ?" (Oh ! my God ! ray Ood ! what is that ?) I jumped up and looked about the room, but saw nothing, and endeavoured to convince her that there was nothing extraordinary there. But she insisted that a ghost had come and held her bed curtain, so that she could not draw it. I examined it, and found that the curtain had been caught by a pin in the vallance, which had held it back ; but it was impossible to tranquilise her for some time. She insisted on my sleeping with her the rest of the night, and I stretched myself across the foot of her bed, and slept Uiere till morning. During the last part of my stay in the Convent I was often employed in attending in the hospitals. There are, as I have before mentioned, several apartments devoted to the sick, and there is a physician of Montreal, who attends as physician to the Convent. It must npt be supposed, however, that he knows any thing concerning the private hospitals. It is a fact of great importance to be distinctly understood, and constantly borne in mind, that he is never, under any circumstances, admitted into the private hospital-rooms ; of those he sees nothing more than any stranger whatever. He is limited to the care of those patients who are admitted from the city into the public hospital, and one of the nuns' hospitals, and these he visits every day. , Sick poor are received for charity by the institution, attended by some of the nuns, and often go away with the highest ideas of our charitable characters and holy lives. The physician himself might, perhaps, in some cases share in the delusion. I frequently followed Dr. I^elson through the put^Hc hospital, at the direction of the Superior, with pen, ink, and paper in my hands, and wrote down the prescriptions which he ordered for the different patients. These were afterwards prepared and adT ministered by the attendants. About a year before I left the Convent, I was first appointed to attend the private sick rooms, r^*^- MARIA MUNK. 137 and was frequently employed in that duty up to the day of my departure. Of course, I had opportunities to obserre the num- ber and classes of patients treated there ; and in what I am to say on the subject, I appeal, with perfect confidence^ to any true and competent witness to confirm my words, whenever such a witness may appear. It would be vain for any body who has merely visited the Convent from curiosity, or resided in it as a novice, to question my declarations. Such a person must necessarily be ignorant of even the existence of the private rooms, unless informed by some one else. Such rooms, however, there are, and I could relate many things which have passed there during the hours I was em- ployed in them, as I have stated. One night I was called to sit up with an old nun, named St. Clare, who, in going down stairs, had dislocated a limb, and lay in a sick room adjoining an hospital. She seemed to be a little out of her mind a part of the time, but appeared quite in possession of her reason most of the night. It was easy to pretend that she was delirious ; but I considered her speaking the truth, though I felt reluctant to repeat what I heard her say, and excused myself from mentioning it even at confession, on the ground that the Superior thought her deranged. What led her to some of the most remarkable parts of her con> versation was, a motion I made, in the course of the night, to take the light out of her little room into the adjoining apartment, to look once more at the sick persons there. She begged me not to leave her for a moment in the dark, for she could not bear it. *' I have witnessed so many horrid scenes," said she, " in this Convent, that I want somebody near me constantly, and must always have a light burning in my room. I cannot tell you," she added, " what things I remember, for they would frighten you too much. What you have seen are nothing to them. Many a murder have I witnessed ; many a nice young creature has been killed in this Nunnery. I advise you to be very cautious— keep every thing to yourself — there are many here ready to betray you." What it was that induced the old nun to express so much kind- ness to me I could not tell, unless she was frightened at the re- collection of her own crimes, and those of others, and felt grateful for the care I took of her. She had been one of the night watches, and never before showed me anv particular kindness. She did not indeed go into detail concernmg the transactions to which she alluded, but told me that some nuns had been murdered under great aggravations of cruelty, by being gagged, and left to starve in the cells, or having their flesh burned off their bones with red hot irons. >^«^ i^ 138 MARIA MUNK. It was uncommon to tind compunction expressed by any of the nuns. Habit renders iis insensible to the siiH'erings ofothers, and careless about our own sins. I had become so hardened myseU", that I find it difficult to rid myself of many of my former principlcH and views of right and wrong. I was one day set to wash some of the empty bottles from the cellar, which had contained the liquid that was poured into the cemetery there. A number of these had been brought from the corner wliere so many of them were always to be seen, and placed at the head of the cellar stairs, and there we were required to take them and wash them out. We poured in water and rinsed them ; a few drops which got upon our clothes soon made holes in them. I think the liquid was called vitriol, or some such name ; and I heard some persons say that it would soon destroy the flesh and even the bones of the dead. At another time, we were furnished with a little of the liquid, which was mixed with a quantity of water, and used in dying some cloth black, which was wanted at funerals in the chapels. Our hands were turned very black by being dipped into it, but a few drops of some other liquid were mixed with fresh water, and given us to wash in, which left our skin of a bright red. The bottles of which I spoke were made of very thick dark- coloured glass, large at the bottom, and from recollection, 1 should say held something less than a gallon. I was once much shocked, on entering the room for the ex- amination of conscience, at seeing a nun hanging by a cord from a ring in the ceiling, with her head downward. Her clothes had been tied round with a leathern strap to keep them in their place, and then she had been fastened in that situation, with her head some distance from the floor. Her face had a very unpleasant Appearance, being dark-colored and swollen by the rushing in of the blood ; her hands were tied, and her mouth stopped with a large gag. The nun proved to be no other than Jane Bay, who for some fault had been condemned to this punishment. This was not however, a solitary case ; 1 heard of numbers who were " hung," as it was called, at different times ; and I saw St. Hypolite and St. Luke undergoing it. This was con- sidered a most distressing punishment, and it was the only one which Jane Ray could not endure, of all that she had tried. Some of the nuns would allude to it in her presence, but it usually made her angry. It was probably practised in the same place while I was a novice ; but I never heard or thought of such a thing in those days. Whenever we wished to enter the room for the examination of conscience we had to ask leave ; and, after some delay, were permitted to go, but always under a strict charge to bend the head forward and keep the eye fixed on the floor. 'fe'' MAKIA MONK. 1J4 NOTES, FACTS, CUNFIKMATIONS, &c. For further uonfirmation of the nature of the Confessional, we now give an extract from Miss Eliza Smith's volume, entitled "The FnocmRsa or Beouile- MENT TO Romanism." The volume is full of unquestionable facts. It is pub- lished by Seeleys, in Fleet-street. The following extract commences on page 66. Miss Smith's own words are these— " The Romish religion teaches, that if you omit to name anything in confession, however repugnant or revolting to purity, which you even doubt may come under the category of mortal sins, your confession, or confcsHJous, however ho many, which have been made subsequently to such omissions, are nothing worth, in fact sacrilegious ; and all require to ho made over again before the absolution can avail; while it also inculcates that sins of though should be confessed, in order that the confessor may judge of their mortal or venial character. What sort of a spiritual chain this linlis around the strictly conscientious, I would atttim])t to pourtray if I couW; bnt it must have beon worn to understand its torturing character. Suffice it to say, however, that 1 had been for some months in the habit of confessing to this bad priest himself, ere I became aware of his real character— and though I had certainly sometimes suspected him, yet being from circumstances compelled to make uso of his ministry, I had never of course named my injurious suspicions to him : and I further candidly acknowledge that from utter incapacity to allude to such subjects, and dreading their baneful effects on my own mind, I had on several previous occasions passed by thoughts and circumstances which I had doubted my confessors would call sin, so that now I was involved in a labyrinth of perplexity and disquiet from which I saw no escape, but through the rocJium of a general confession, dating from the first time I could recall such omission. To this I made up my mind. But this con- fessor's scrupulosity exceeded everything I had ever encountered hitherto. Ho told me many things were mortal sins, that I had hardly deemed sin at all before ; and thus a host of anxieties for my fint general confession was awakened within me. I had no resource, therefore, but to remake that, and thus I afresh entered on the bitter path I had deemed I should never have occasion to tread again. But if that first confession had lacerated my feelings, what, w/ f was it, to t/it» one? words have no power, language has no expression, for thi i^motions which char* aoterized the task from the commencement of it to the dose. Had I been really less sincere, and remorseful for what I deemed my faults than I was, it muit have awakened me, deeply sunk in darkness as I had become. The difficulty I felt in entering on the subjects I was compelled to do, and the distress I manifested, — which I suppose is natural to my sex, though I have met with some among them strangely familiar with such topics, — furnished my confessor, of course, with a plea for his assistance in the questioning department ; and some of the images supplied, and feelings elicited, I would fain cancel as foul blots in memory. I soon found that he made mortal sins of what my fint confessor had thought bat lightly of, or professed to do so, and he did not scruple to pronounce that I had never yet made a good confession at all. My ideas therefore became more complicated and confused as I proceeded, until at length I began to feel hope- less of ever accomplishing my task in any degree satisfactorily; and my mind and memory were positively racked to recal ever^ itoa of every kind, real or imaginary, that may hereafter be occasion of uneasiness should it be omitted. The most simple childish follies were recounted, and magnified into mortal sin ; and as day after day I knelt, sometimes for hours at the feet of that man, answering oueries, and listening to reproofs, calculated to bow my very soul in the dust, I tnen felt as though I should never raise my head again. The confession lasted at intervals over the space of a fortnight, that is, I went perhaps to him thrice in the week, for that time, and to chronicle a small part of what passed there wonld anlly tbs |>aper. how can the judgment ever be so perverted as to call Buch vollution parity; — how can the mind ever be so darkened as to believe that such an awful parody upon the divine perogative of the Immaculate and spotless Lamb of God, can be aught bat the most fearful mockery ? Even I, benighted aa I was, sometimes trembled, I knew not why. Never shall I forget my sensations on two or three occasions at that time. Once, my confessor having been unex- pectedly called away, I went to the Church-porch for air, while awaiting his re- turn. How I gasped for some relief to my overwrought mind ! the memory even now oppresses me. But that was soon superseded by feelings more insupportable still ; as he came with his unchanged smile and broad gaze to summon me back to my terrible task. Even this however sank into significance a day-or-two after- wards, when I went to proceed with my confession. 1 was desired to repeat what -ifl^- I' i 140 MAKIA MONK. had most harrowed my feelings over again. I replied, I hau confessed it onoe already, and ventured some demur ; when I was told in the most merciless man- ner, that \flhad, he had forgotten it, and the command enforced, with the consola- tory assurance, that the repetition would only serve to humbte me. A feeling almost akin to suffocation for the moment overwhelmed me, and I felt as if the words would choke me. I leaned against the confessional for sup^rt, but with prompt- ings and suggestions he at length gained his point- On rising from my knees I was unable to stand, for the time ; a kind of fallen and enuhed feeling seemed to paralyse me, both physically and mentally. He smillingly attributed it to the length of time I haa been kneeling, and commenced talking on the most indiffer- ent subjects, with as great freedom and coolness as though I had no cause for one unpleasant thought; and talked on thus for an hour. At the end of that time a i&d^ ,2 my acquaintance called upon him, and (fter another half-hour thus oonsumeti, we left together. She was the ' nother of a ''amily, and a devoted Catholic, as pure I believed in. heart as life ; and as I walked home by ber side, I looked at her in wonder. 1 could not smother the questionb which would arise within me, as to the purity of the duty I had just been peribrm'ug. What would I have given to have thrown myself on her maternal Ikmoii, and have asked, Vo yon, can you know of these things ? and if so, will you brin j your children up ex- posed to such horrors ! What would I have given for even one friend to whom I could fiilly have opened my mind, capable of understanding and advising me. But the fetters were on me, and I soon iiwoke as from a sinful dream, to torment myself with the enquiry, whether *ueh rtfiedion* were not jorong T while conscience, or the fHend — whispered they ought to be c°am«n( of penance. But here I may be reminded by the advocates of the dogma, that whatever had to be endured, arose out of the nature of the confession to be made. W'llingly I grant the plea. I do not unqualifiedly blame the confessor. But the fact is worth ten thousand arguments upon the subject, and 8i>eaks more than all the homilies ever written, for the direful character of the institution. For if such sufferings and annoyance had to be borne at the hand of one who professed to regard his fellow-minister's crime with abhorrence, in the very confession of that crime ; if such consequences resulted only in the leffitimate use of a sacred thing, what must be its awful effects where the priest himself is faulty ? and what must be the fearful amount of con- tamination, when it is converted into an instrument of abuse 1 Oh the frightful influence of guilt in an individual placed in a position of such tremendous trust and responsibility. I4o more dangerous or subtle snare, for those beneath his control, could be devised by the combined malice of the powers of darkness. The moat vfartuouB may not say that they are proof against it. The sternest in their strength of purpose, cannot assure tnemselves ' so far will he go but no farther.' Those who have hitherto fled each thought of impurity as defilement, here know not iftguiM. The vef7 principles seem in danger of becoming perverted, one's ideas of right and wrong confounded ; the judgment to be hood-winked, and utterly be- wildered ; while evil wears a mask so treacherous, that the victim to its influence is led on blind-fold. The very confession of guilt to an individual, who seems bound by his character and office to detest and reprehend it, instinctively precludes the idea of the possibility of it, in connection with himself. The very humiliation of supplicating for pardon at his hands, seems to place him so far above the petitioner, that the thought of suspecting him becomes a cr'me ; while the familiarity with such subjects between him and his penitent thus induced, intuitively lessens by degrees the horrors on both sides. Thus the mind may be debased to an extent fearful to contemplate, before the sufferer is aware of the danger surrounding her. Then if temptation comes— to God's preventing ^race alone is it to be attributed, if she is proof against it. I have known an individual, who, in the confessional, has been severely rebuked for the bare permission of a fault in con- nection with another, the very next week exposed to a worse, from the confessor himself; and on some kind of remonstrance being attempted, she has been told that to Aim it waa no sin, because he meant none. And even worse instances than this have come under my observation. Here, however, justice compeK me to say, 142 MARIA MONK. that I have met with noble exceptions, inatanoca of pure and exalted virtuo, wlicro such abomination would be abhorred, and the slightest approach to it shunned as pestilence. But of the too common effect of the confessional, after extended ex- perience, I can have no (ioyit ; and my impression may be stated in few words. That while to pore and heaven-guaxaed souls it may be pure, to those of an opp' • site ci.aracter it is a source of terrible temptation, the baneful results of which eternity perhaps only will reveal. Oh thatfthis, my bitter experieace, may warn some, and Tain would I pray, appeal to some Catholics also; but I fear thi» is a hopeless wish. Excepting those who haye similarly suffered, none would believe me ; and even they, who in their ttearta knotv that I am speaking truth, are so deeply infatuated, that they regard such instances of turpitude as that I have narrated but as abuses ; never for an instant looking /rom other amusements, one of the nuns exclaimed, " Oh, how head- strong are those wretches in the cells — they are as bad as the day they were first put in !'* This exclamation was made, as I supposed, in consequence of some recent conversation with them, as I knew her to be parti- cularly acquainted with the older ones. Some of the vacant cells were occasionally used lor temporary imprisonment. Three nuns were confined in them, to my know- ledge, for disobedience to the Superior, as ■ called it. They did not join the rest in singing in the even. Iieing exhausted' in the various exertions of the day. The Superior ordered them ■ to sing ; and, as they did not comply, after h«r comm ind had . been twice repeated, she ordered them away to the cells. They were immediately taken down into the cellar, pla^ ed in separate dungeons, and the doors shut and barred upon them. There they remained through that night, the following day, and second night, but were released in time to attend mass on the second morning. TIM) Superior used occa^onally to shew something in a glass box, which we were required to regard with the highest degree of reverence. It was made of wax, and called an Agnus Dei. She used to exhibit it to us when we were in a state of grace : that is, after confession and before sacrament. She said it had been blessed in the very dish in which our Saviour had eaten. It was brought from Rome. Every time we kissed it, or even looked at it, we were told that it gave a hundred days' release ; 144 MARIA MONK. from purgatory to ourselves, or if we did not need it, to our next of kin in purgatory, if not a Protestant. If we had no sucli kinsman, the benefit was to go to the souls in purgatory not prayed for. Jane Ray would sometimes say to me " Let's kiss it ; some of our friends will thank us for it." I haye been repeatedly employed in carrying dainties of differ- ent kinds to the little private room I have mentioned, next beyond the Superior's sitting-room, in the second story, which the priests made their " Holy Retreat.'^ That room I never was allowed to enter. I could only go to the door with a waiter of refresh- ments, set it down upon a little stand near it, give three raps on the door, and then retire to a distance to await orders. When any thing was to be taken away, it was placed on the stand by the Superior, who then gave three raps for me, and closed the door. The bishop I saw at least once, when he appeared worse for wine, or something of the kind. After partaking of refreshments in the Convent, he sent for all the nuns, and on our appearance, gave us his blessing, and put a piece of pound-cake on the shoulder of each of us, in a manner which appeared singular and foolish. There are three rooms in the Black Nunnery which I never entered. I had enjoyed much liberty, and had seen, as I suppo8«;d all parts of the building, when one day I observed an old nun go to a corner of an apartment near the northern end of the western wing, push the end of her scissors into a crack in the panelled wall, and pull out a door. I was much surprised, because I never had conjectured that any door was there ; and it appeared, when I afterwards examined the place, that no indication of it could be discovered on the closest scrutiny. I stepped forward to see what was within, and saw three rooms opening into each other ; but the nun refused to admit me within the door, which she said led to rooms kept as depositories. She herself entered and closed the door, so that I could not satisfy my curiosity ; and no occasion presented itself. I always had a strong desire to know the use o< these apartments : for I am sure they must have been designed lor some purpose of which I was intentionally kept ignorant, otiterwise tney would never have remained unknown to me so long. Besides the old nun evi- dently had some strong reasons for denying me admission, though she endeavoured to quiet my curiosity. . The Superior, after my admission into the Convent, had told me I had access to every room in the building : and I had seen places which bore witness to the cruelties and the crimes com- mitted under her commands or sanction ; but here wns a succession of rooms which had been concealed from me, and i constructed as if designed to be unknown to all but a few. 1 am sure that UARIA MONK. 145 fr- ill id li- any person who might he ahle to examine the wall in that place, would pronounce that secret door a surprising piece of work. I never saw anything of the kind which appeared to me so ingeniously and skilfully made. I told Jane what I had seen, and she said at once, " We will get in and see what is there." But I suppose she never found an opportunity. I naturally felt a good deal of curiosity to learn whether such scenes as I had witnessed in the death of St. Frances were common or rare, and took an opportunity to enquire of Jane Ray. Her reply was, " Oh yes ; and there were many murdered while you were a novice, whom you heard nothing about." This was all I ever learned on the subject ; but although I was told nothing of the manner in which they were killed, I supposed it to be the same which 1 had seen practised, viz. by smothering. 1 went into the Superior's parlour one day for something, and found Jane Ray there alone, looking into a book with an appearance of interest. I asked her what it was, but she made some trifling answer, and laid it bv, as if unwilling to let me take it. There are two book-cases in the room: one on the right as you enter the door, and the other opposite, near the window and the sofa. The former contains the lecture-books, and other printed volumes. The latter seemed to be filled witlx note and account books. I have often seen the keys in the book-cases while I have been dusting the furniture, and sometimes observed letters stuck up in the room; although I neverlookedintoone, or thought of doing so ; we were under strict orders not to touch any of them, and the idea of sins and penances was always present with me. Some time after the occasion mentioned I was sent into the Superior's room with Jane to arrange it; and as the same book was lying out of the case, she said, " Come, let us look into it.'* I inmiediately consented, and we opened it, and turned over several leaves. It was about a foot and a half long, as nearly as I can remember, a foot wide, and about two inches thick, though I cannot speak with particular precision, as Jane frightened me almost as soon as I touched it, by exclaiming, "There you have looked into it, and if you tell of me, I will of you." The thought of being subjected to a severe penance, which I had reason to apprehend, fluttered me very much; and although I tried to overcome my fears, I did not succeed very well. I reflected, however, that the sin was already committed, and that it would not be increased if I examined the book. I therefore looked a little at several pages, though I still felt a good deal of agitation. I saw at once that the volume was a record of the entrance of nuns and novices into the Convent, and of the births that had taken place in the Convent. Entries of the last description were made in a brief manner, on the foU 10 L 146: MARIA MONK. lowing plan : I do not give the names or dates as real, but only to shew the form of entering them. . . .>■ Saint Mary delivered of a son, March 16, 1834. . -.^ [•■ Saint Clarice „ daughter, April 2. Saint Matilda „ daughter, April 30, &c. No mention was made in the book of the death of the children, though I well knew not one of them could be living at that time. Now I presume that the period the book embraced was about two years, as several names near the beginning I knew ; but I can form only a rough conjecture of the number of infants born, and murdered, of course, records of which it contained. I sup- pose the book contained at least one hundred pages, that one- fourth were written upon, and that each page contained fifteen distinct records. Several pages were devoted to the list of births. On this supposition there must have been a large number which I can easily believe to have been born there in tlie course of two years. What were the contents of the other books belonging to the sailie case with that in which I looked into, I have no idea, having never dared to touch one of thetn ; 1 believe, however, that Jane Ray was well acquainted with them, knowing, as I do, her intelligence and prying disposition. If she could be brought to give her testimony, she would, doubtless, unfold many curious particulars now.uuknown. I am able, \i\ consequence of a circumstance which appeared accidental, to state witli confidence the exact number of persons in the Convent one day of the week in which 1 left. This may be a point of some interest, as several secret deaths had occurred sinde my taking the veil, and many burials had been openly made in the chapel. I was appointed, at the time mentioned, to lay out the covers for all the inmates of the Convent, including the nuns in the cells. These covers, as I have said before, were linen bauds to be bound around the knives, forks, spoons, and napkins, for eiiting. Those were for all the nuns and novices, and amounted to two hundred and ten. As the number of novices was then about thirty, I know that there must have been at that time about one hundred and eighty veiled nuns. I was occasionally troubled with a desire of escaping from the nunnery, and was much distressed whenever I felt so evil an i'nagination rise in my mind. I beheved that it was a sin, a great sin, and did not fail to confess, at every opportunity, that I felt discontent. My confessors informed me that 1 was beset by an evil spirit, and urged me to pray against it. Still, however^ every now and then I would think, " Oh, if I could get out !" MARIA MONK. ni At length one of the priests, to whom I had confessed this sin nf ormed me, for my comfort, that he had begun to pray to St. iAnthony, and hoped his intercession would, bye and bye, drive away the evil spirit. My desire of escape was partly excited by the fear of bringing an infant to the murderous hands of my companions, or of taking a potion whose violent effects I too well knew. One evening, however, I found myself more filled with the desire of escape than ever ; and what exertions I made to dismiss the thought proved entirely unavailing. During evening prayers I became quite occupied with it ; and when the time for medi- tation arrived, instead of falling into a dose, as I often did, altliough I was a good deal fatigued, I found no difficulty in keeping awake. When this exercise was over, and the other nuns were about to retire to the sleeping room, my station being in tlie private sick room for the night, I withdrew to my post, which was in the little sitting room adjoining it. Here, then, I threw myself upon the sofa, and being alone, reflected a few moments on the manner of escape which had occurred to me. The physician had arrived a little before, at half-past eight ; and 1 had now to accompany him, as usual, from bed to bed, with pen, ink, and paper, to write down his pre- scriptions for the direction of the old nun, who was to see them administered. What I wrote that evening I cannot now recollect, as my mind was uncommonly agitated ; but my customary way was to note down briefly his orders in this manner — I d. salts, St. Matilde. ' /^ * ' 1 blister, fcjt. Genevieve, &c,, &c. ' •ojs I remember that I wrote three orders that evening, and then, having finished the rounds, I returned for a few minutes to the sitting-room. There were two ways of access to the street from those rooms ; first, the more direct, from the passage adjoining the sick room down stairs, through a door, into the nunnery-yard, and through a wicket gate ; that is the way by which the physician usually enters at night, and he is provided with a key for that pur- pose. It would have been unsafe, however, for me to pass out that way, because a man is kept continually in the yard, near the gate, who sleeps at night iti a small hut near the door, to escape whose observations would be impossible. My only hope, there- fore, was that I miglit gain my passage through the other way, tO which I must pass through the sick-room, then through a passage, or small room, usually occupied by an old nun : another passage! , and staircase leading down to the yard, and a large gate openin . 148 M.ARIA MONK. into the cross street. I hail no liberty ever to go beyond the sick-room, and knew that several of the doors might be fastened ! still I determined to try ; although I have often since been astonished at my boldness in undertaking what would expose mo to so many hazards of failure, and to severe punishment if found out. It seemed as if I acted under some extraordinary impulse, which encouraged me to do what I should hardly at any other moment have thought of undertaking. I had sat but a short time upon the sola, however, before I rose with a desperate determination to make the experiment. I therefore walked hastily across the sick room, passed into the nun's room, walked by her in a great hurry ; and almost nithout giving her time to speak or think, said — " A message !" and in an instant was through the door, and in the next passage. I think there was another nun with her at the moment ; and it is probable that my hurried manner, and prompt intimation that I was sent on a pressing mission to the Superior, prevented them from enter- taining any suspicion of my intention. Besides, I had the written orders of the physician in my hand, which may have tended to mislead them ; and it was well known to some of the nuns that I had twice left the Convent and returned from choice ; so that I was probably more likely to be trusted to remain than many of the others. The passage which I had now reached had several doors, with all which I was acquainted ; that on the opposite side opened into a community-room, where I should probiibly have found some of the old nuns at that hour, and they would certainly have stopped me. On the left, however, was a large door, both locked and barred ; but I gave the door a sudden swing, that it might creak as little as possible, being of iron. Down the stairs I hurried, and making my way through the door into the yard, Stepped across it, unbarred the great gate, and was at liberty. NOTES, FACTS, CONriRMATIONS, &c. Affidavits IN PROOF or Miss Monk's Statements.— On page 136 we pro- mised to ^ve the affidavit of Mr. Ililliker, and statement of the Uev. Mr. Tappin. We subjoin the same : — "The aflfecting circumstance in which Mr. Ililliker and his associates first discovered Miss Monk, after her arrival in New York, are briefly stated in the following affidavit. It is to this kind and humane gentleman that the world is indebted, under a benign Providence, for the preservation of Miss Monk's testimony, by rescuing her from a premature grave, into which she was then rapidly sinking, after having spent several days in the forlorn situation in whivh she was thus discovered. I envy not the sensibilities of that man who can read it unmoved. ' John Hilliker, being duly sworn, doth depose and say — that OQO day early in the mouth of May, 1836, while Bhooting near the Third MARIA MONK. 149 Avenue, opposite the three milo stono, in company witli three ftiends, I saw a woman sitting in a field at a short distance, who attracted our attention. On reaching her we found her sitting with her head down, and could not make her return any answer to our questions. On raising her hat we saw that she was weeping. She was dressed in an old calico frock, CI think of a greenish colour,) with a checked apron, and an old black bonnet. After much delay and weeping, she began to answer my questions, but not until I had got my companions to leave us, and assured her that I was a married man, and disposed to befriend her. She then told me that her name was Maria, that she had been a nun in a nunnery at Montreal, from which she had made her escape on account of the treatment she had received from priests in that institution, whose licentious conduct she strongly intimated to me. She mentioned some particulars concerning the convent and her escape. She spoke particularly of a small room where she used to attend, until the physician entered to see the sick, when she accompanied him to write down his proscriptions ; and said that she escaped through a door which he sometimes entered. She added that she exchanged her dress after leaving the nunnery, and that she came to New York in company with a man, who left her as the steamboat arrived. She further stated that she expected soon to give birth to a child, having become pregnant in the convent ; that she had no friend, and knew not where to find one ; that she thought of destroying her life ; and wished me to leave her — saying, that if I should hear of a woman being found drowned in the East River, she earnestlv desired me never to speak of her. I asked her if she had had any food that day, to which she answered, no; and I gave her money to got some at the grocery of Mr. Cox, in the neighbourhood. She left me, but I afterwards saw her in the fields, going towards the river ; and after much urgency prevailed upon her to go to 'j, house where I thought she might be accommodated, offering to pav her expenses. Failing in this attempt, I persuaded her, with difficulty, to go to the Almshouse ; and there wo got her received, after I had promised to call and see her, as she said she had something of great con- sequence which she wished to communicate to me, and wished mc to write a letter to Montreal. She had every appearance of telling the truth; so much so, that I have never for a moment doubted the truth of her story, but told it to many persons of my acquaintance, with entire confidence in its truth. She seemed overwhelmed witli grief, and in a very desperate state of mind. I saw her weep for two hours or more without ceasing ; and appeared very feeble when attempting towalk,so that two of U3 supported her by the arms. We observed, also, that she always folded her hands under her apron when she walked, as she has described the nuns as doing in her ' Awful Disclosures.' I called at the Alms- house gate several times and inquired for her; but having forgotten half of her name, I could not make it understood whom I wished to see, and did not see her until the last week. When I saw some of the first extracts from her book in a newspaper, I was confident that they were parts of her story, and when I read the conclusion of the work I had not a doubt of it. Indeed, many things in the course of the book I was prepared for from what she had told me. When I found her I recognised her immediately, although she did not know me at first, being in a very different dress. As soon as she was informed where she had seen me, she recognised me. I have not found in the book anything inconsistent with what she had stated to me when I first saw her. When I first saw her in May, 1836, she had evidently sought concealment. She had a letter in her hand, which she refused to let mo see ; and when she founri I was determined to remove her she tore it in small pieces, and threw them down. Several days after I visited the spot again and picked them up, to learn something of the contents, but could find nothing intelligible, except the first part of the signature, ' Maria.' Of the truth of her story I have not the slightest doubt, and I think I never can until the nunnery is opened and examined. John Hilliker. " Swoin before me, this lith of March, 1836. j. „ ^ » " Peteb Jenkins, ComMw'wj'oMcr ofvetat. " The following statement respecting the origin of Maria Monk's Disclosures and her first acquaintance with, Mr. Hoyt, has the sanction of the Kev. Mr. Tappin, Chaplain, for several years past, of the Humane and Criminal Insti- tutions of the city of New York— a gentleman of unblemished character.— In tne summer of 1835, Maria Monk, authoress of the ' Awful Disclosures,' was seriously ill, and, as she supposed, on the borders of the grave. In this situation, she sent for mo, and with all the solemnity of a dying hour, she communicated to me the principal statements respecting the Hotel Dieu Nunnery of Montreal, whictt she had since published to tno world, iu her disclosures. She did this by way oi 150 VAKIA MONK. penitentUl oonfi'ssion. Her objcot appeared to be, not to criminate otbcw, but to confess her own guilt, and thus relieve ber troubled conscience j for she teit that she had, in some sense, been a participator in the horrid crimes wJiich she dlTulged. At the time, it was evident to my mind, that she had no idea that nor disclosures to me, would oyer be made known to the public. The impression, which I then received of her honest sincerity, lemaiBS to this day uneflacejJ. This was some time before her acquaintance with Mr. Hoy t ; who, having recently wrived in New York from Canada, and having heard of her case, called on me to make inquiries respecting it, and was, by me, introduced to her acquamtwioe. ' ■ J. C ONCLUSION. M The following circumstances comprise all tliat Is deemed neces- sary now to subjoin to the preceding narrative : — After my arrival in New York, 1 was introduced to the alms- house, where I was attended with kindness and care ; and, as I hoped, was entirely unknown. But when I had been some time in that institution, 1 found that it was reported that I was a fugi- tive nun ; and not long after an Irish woman, belonging to the house, brought me a secret message, which caused me some •gitation. I was sitting in the room of Mrs. Johnson, tlie matron, engaged in sewing, when that Irish woman, employed in the institution, came in and told me that Mr. Conroy was below, and had sent to see me. I was informed that he was a Roman priest, who often visited the house, and had a particular wish to aee me at that time ; having come, as I believe, expressly for that purpose. I showed. unwillingness to comply with such an invitotion, and did not go. The woman told me further, that he senl me word that I need not think to avoid him, for it wordd be im]>ossible for me to do so. I might conceal myself as well as I could, but I should be found and taken. No matter where I went, or what hiding' place I might choose, I should be known ; and I had better come at once. He knew who I was; and he was authorized to take me to the Sisters of CMiarity, if I should prefer to join them. He would promise that I might stay >vith them if 1 chose, and be permitted to remain in New York. He sent me word further, that he had received full power and authority over me from the Superior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal, and was able to do all siie could do : as her right to dispose cf me at her will had been imparted to him by a regular M'riting received from Canada. This was alarming information for me, in the weakness in which I was at that time. The woman added that the same MARIA MONK. 151 authority had been given to all the priests ; so tliat go where I might I should meet men informed about me and my escape, and ftally empowered to seize me wherever they could, and convey me back to the Convent from which 1 had escaped. Under these circumstances, it seemed to me timt the offer to place me among the Sisters of Charity, with permission to remain «i New York, was mild and favourable. However, I hadresolu« tion enough to refuse to see the priest Conroy. Not long aff' rward I was informed, by the same messenger, that the priee.1. was again in the building, and retreated his request. I desired one of the gentlemen connected with the institution, that a stop might be put to such messages, as 1 wished to receive no more of them. A short time after, liowever, the woman told me that Mr. Conroy wished to inquire of me, whether my name was not St. Eustace while a nun, and if I had not confessed to Priest Kelly in Montreal. I answered, that it was all true ; for I had confessed to him a short time while in the Nunnery. I was then told again that the priest wanted to see me, and I sent back •word that I would see him in the presence of Mr. T — ■■, or Mr. S ; which, however, was not agreed to : and I was afterwards informed that Mr Conroy, the Roman priest, spent an hour in a room and a passage where I had frequently been ; but, through the mercy of God, 1 was employed in another place at that time, and had no occasion to go where I should have met him. I afterward repeatedly heard, that Mr. Conroy continued to visit the house, and to ask for me ; but I never saw him. I once had determined to leave the institution, which gave me time for further reflection ; and 1 tvas saved from the destruction to which I should have been exposed. As the period of my accouchement approached, I sometimes thought that I should not survive it ; and then the recollection of the dreadful crimes I had witnessed in the nunnery would come upon me very forcibly, and I would think it a solemn duty to dis- close them before I died. To have a knowledge of those things, and leave the world without making them known, appeared to me like a great sin, whenever I could divest myself of the im- pression made upon me by the declarations and arguments of the Superior, nuns, and priests, of the duty of submitting to every thing, and the necessary holiness of whatever the latter did or required. The evening but one before the period which I anticipated with so much anxiety, I was sitting alone, and began to indulge in reflections of this kind. It seemed to me that I must be near the close of life, and I determined to make a disclosure at once. I spoke to Mrs. Ford, a woman whose character I respected, a nurse in the hospital in number twenty-three. I informed her 152 MARIA MONK. that I had no expectation of living long, and had some things on my mind which I wished to communicate before it should be too late. I added that 1 should prefer to tell them to Mr. T , the chaplain ; of which she approved, as she considered it a duty to do 80 under those circumstances. I had no opportunity, how- eyer, to converse with Mr. T. at that time, and, probably, my pur- pose of disclosing the facts already given in this book, would never have been executed, but for what subsequently took place. It was alarm which led me to form such a determination ; and when the period of trial had been safely passed, and I had a prospect of recovery, any thing appeared to me more unlikely than that I should make this exposure. I was then a Roman Catholic, at least, a great part of my time ; and my conduct, in a great measure, was according to the faith of a Roman Catholic. Notwithstanding what I knew of the con- duct of so many of the priests and nuns, I thought that it had no effect on the sanctity of the Church, or the authority or effects of the acts performed by the former at mass, confession, &c. I had such regard for my vows as a nun, that I considered my hand as well as my heart irrevocably given to Jesus Christ, and could never have allowed any person to take it. Indeed, to this day, I feel an instinctive aversion to offering my hand, or taking the hand of another person, even as an expression of friendship. I also thought that I might soon return to the Roman Catholics, although fear and disgust held me back. I had now that infant to think for, whose life I had happily saved by my timely escape from the nunnery ; and what its fate might be, in case it should ever fall into the power of the priests I could not tell. I had, however, reason for alarm. Would a child, destined to destruction, like the infants 1 had seen baptised and smothered, be allowed to go through the worldunmolested, a living memorial of the truth of crimes long practised in security, because never exposed ? What pledges could I get to satisfy me, that I, on whom her dependence must be, would be spared by those who I had reason to think were wishing then to sacrifice me ? How could 1 trust the helpless infant in hands which had hastened the baptism of many such, in order to hurry them to the secret pit in the cellar ? Could I suppose that Father Phelan, Priest of the Parish Church of Montreal, would see his own child growing up in the world, and feel willing to run the risk of having the truth exposed? What could I expect, especially from him, but the utmost rancour, and the most determined enmity against the innocent child, and its abused and defenceless mother. Yet my mind would sometimes still incline in the opposite direction, and indulge die thouo^ht. that perhaps the only way to MARIA MONK. 153 secure heaven to us both was to throw ourselves back into the hands of the Church, to be treated as slie pleased. When, therefore, the fear of immediate death was removed, I renounced all thoughts of communicating the substance of the facts in this volume. It happened, however, that my danger was not passed. I was soon seized with very alarming symptoms ; then my desire to disclose my story revived. I had before an opportunity to speak in private with the chaplain ; but as it was at a time when I supposed myself out of danger, I had deferred for three days my proposed communication, thinking that I might yet avoid it altogether. When my symptoms, however, became more alarming, I was anxious for Saturday to arrive, the day which I had appointed ; and when I had not the opportunity on that day which I desired, I thought it might bo too late. I did not see him till Monday, when my ()rospect8 of surviving were very gloomy ; and I then informed lim that I wished to commnnicate to him n few secrets, which were likely otherwise to die with me. I then told him that while a nun in the Convent of Montreal I had witnessed the murder of a nun called St. Frances, and of at least one of the infants which I have spoken of in this book. I added some few circumstances, and, I believe, disclosed, in general terms, some of the crimes I knew of in that Nunnery. My anticipations of death proved to be unfounded ; for my health afterwards improved, and had I not made the confessions on that occasion, it is very possible I never might have made them. J, however, afterwards felt more willing to listen to instruction, and experienced friendly attentions from some of the benevolent persons around me, who, taking an interest in me on account of my darkened understanding, furnished me with the Bible, and were ever ready to counsel me when I desired it, I soon began to believe that God might have intended that his creatures should learn his will by reading his word, and taking upon them the free exercise of their reason, and acting under responsibility to him. It is difficult for one who has never given way to such arguments and influences, as those to which I had been exposed, to realise how hard it is to think aright after thinking wrong. The Scrip- tures always affect me powerfully when I read them ; but I feel that I have but just begun to learn the great truths in which I ought to have been early and thoroughly instructed. I realize, in some degree, how it is that the Scriptures render the people of the United States so strongly opposed to such doctrines as are taught in the Black and Congregational Nunneries in Montreal. The priests and nuns used often to declare that of all heretics the children from the United States were the most difficult to be con- 154 MABIA MONK. verted ; and it was thought a great triumph when one of them was brought over to " The true faith." The first passage of Scripture that made any serious impression upon my mind was the text on which the chaplain preached on the Sabbath after my introduction to the house — " Search the Scriptures." APPENDIX From Preface of last American Edition. I WOULD now appeal to the world, and ask whether I have not done all that could have been expected of me, and all that lay in my ])ower, to bring to an investigation the charges I have brought against the priests and nuns of Canada. Although it was necessary to the cause of truth that I should, in some degree, implicate myself, I have not hesitated to appear as a voluntary seir-accuser before the world. While there was a ho))e that the autkio.ities in Canada might be prevailed upon to bring the subject to a legal investigation, I travelled to Montreal, in a feeble state of health, and with an infant in my arms only three weeks old. When all prospect of success in this undertaking had disappeared, and not till then, I determined to make rriy accu- sations through the press ; and although misrepresentations and scandals, flattery and fear, have been resorted to, to nullify or to suppress my testimony, I have persevered, although, as many of my friends have thought, at the risk of abduction or death. I have, I think, afforded every opportunity that could be reasonably expected, to judge of my credibility. I have appealed to the existence of things in the Hotel Uieu Nunnery as the great criterion of the truth of my story. I have described the apartments, and now, in this volume, have added many further particulars, with such a draft of them as my memory has enabled nie to make. I have offered in case I should be proved an im- postor, to submit to any punishment which may be proposed, even to a re-delivery into the hands of ray bitterest enemies, to suffer what they may please to inflict. Njw in these circumstances, 1 would ask the people of the United States whether my duty has not been discharged ? Have I not done what I ought to inform and to alarm them ? I would also solemnly appeal to the government of Great Britain, under whose guardianship is the province, oppressed by the gloomy MARIA MONK. 155 instiUition from which I have escaped, and ask whether such atrocities ought to be tolerated, and even protected, by an en- lightened and christian power ? I trust the hour is near when the dens of the Hotel Dieti will be laid open, when the tyrants who have polluted it will be brought out, with the wretched victims of their oppression aud crime. Extracts from the Long Island Star of Feb. 29th. " Since tbe publication of our last paper, we have received a communication from Messrs. Howe and Bates, of New York, the publishers of Miss Monk's ' Awful Disclosures.' It appears that some influences have been at work in that city, adverse to the free examination of the case between her and the priests of Canada ; for thus far the newspapers have been most entirely closed against every thing in her defence, while most of them have publisbed false charges against the book, some of a prepos- terous nature, the contradiction of which is plain and pal- pable. * ♦ ♦ '• Returning to New York, she tlicn first resolved to publish her stcry, which she has recently done, after several intelligent disinterested persons had satisfied themselves by much exami- nation that it is true. "When it became known in Canada that this was her in- tention, six affidavits were published in some of the newspapers, intended to destroy confidence in her character ; but these were found very contradictory in several important points, and in others to uflbrd undesigned confirmation of statements before made by her. •' On the publication of her book, the New York Catholic Diary, the Truth Teller, the Green Banner, and other papers, made virulent attacks upon it, and one of them proposed that the publishers should be ' lynched.' An anonymous handbill was also circulated in New York, declaring the work a malignant libel, got up by Protestant clergyuicii, and ])vomisiiig an ample refutiition of it in a few days. This was re-publishcd in the Catholic Diary, &c., with the old Montreal affidavits, which latter were also distributed through New York and Brooklyn ; and on the authority of these, several Protestant newspapers denounced the work as false and malicious. "Another charge, quhe inconsistent with the rest, was also made, not only by the leading Roman Catholic papers, but by several others at second hand — viz. that it was a mere copy of an old European work. This has been promptly denied by the publishers, with the ofter of 100 dollars reward for any book at all resembling it. 156 MAItIA MONK. " Yet, such is the resoUition of some, and the unbelief of others, that it is impossible for the publishers to obtain insertion for the replies in the New York papers generally, and they have been unsuccessful in an attempt m Philadelphia. " This is the ground on which the following article has been offered to us, for publication in the Star. It was offered to Mr. Schneller, a Bonian Priest, and Editor of the Catholic Diary, for insertion in his paper of Saturday before last, but refused, although written expressly as an answer to the affidavits and charges his previous number had contained. This article has also been re- fused insertion in a Philadelphia daily paper, after it had been satisfactorily ascertained that there was no hope of gaining ad- mission for it into any of the New York papers. " It should be stated, in addition, that the authoress of the book, Maria Monk, is in New York, and stands ready to answer any questions, and submit to any inquiries, put in a proper manner, and desires nothing so strongly as an opportunity to prove before a court the truth of her story. She has already found several persons of respectability who have confirmed some of the facts, important and likely to be attested by concurrent evidence ; and much further testimony in her favour may be soon expected by the public. < " With these facts before them, intelligent readers will judge for themselves. She asks for investigation, while her opponents deny her every opportunity to meet the charges made against her. Mr. Schneller, after expressing a wish to see her, to the publishers, refused to meet her anywhere, unless in his own house ; wiiile Mr. Quarter, another Roman Catholic priest, called to see her, at ten o'clock, one night, accompanied by another man, without giving their names, and under the false pretence of being bearers of a letter from her brother in Montreal." Re])ly to the Montreal Affidavits, refused publication by the Catholic Diary, ^-c. (To the Editor of the Catholic Diary.) " " Sir, — In your paper of last Saturday, you published six oflidavits from Montreal, which are calculated, so far as they are believed, to discredit the truth of the * Awful Disclosures' of Maria Monk, a book of which we are the publishers. We address the following remarks to you, with a request that you will publish them in the * Catholic Diary,' that your readers may have the means of judging for themselves. If the case be so plain a one as you seem to suppose, they will doubtless perceive more plainly the bearing and force of the evidence you present, when they MARIA MONK. 167 see it brought into collision with that which it is designed to overthrow. " First. We have to remark, that the affidavits which you publish might have been furnished you in this city, without the trouble or delay of sending to Montreal. They have been Iilmo two or three months, and were carefully examined about that period by persons who were acquainted with Maria Monk's story, and were desirous of ascertaining the truth. After obtaining further evidence from Canada, these affidavits were decided to contain strong confirmation of various points in her story, then already written down, only part of which has yet been published. " Second. It is remarkable that of these six affidavits, the first is that of Dr. llobertson , and all the rest are signed by him as Justice of the Peace ; and a Justice, too, wiio had pre- viously refused to take the affidavit of Maria Monk. Yet, un- known to himself, this same Dr. R., by incidents of his own stating, corroborates some very important parts of Miss Monk's statements. He says, indeed, that he has ascertained where she was a part of the time when she professes to have been in the Nunnery. But his evidence on this point is merely hearsay, and he does not even favour us with that. " Third. One of the affidavits is that of M!ss Monk's mother, who claims to be a Protestant, and yet declares, that she pro- posed to send her infant grandchild to a Nunnery ! She says her daughter has long been subject to fits of insanity, (of which, however, we can say, no traces are discoverable in New York ;) and has never been iti a Nunnery since she was at school in one, while quite a child. She, however, does not mention where her daughter has spent any part of the most important years of her life. A large part of her aflidavit, as well as several others, is taken up with matter relating to one of the persons who accom- panied Miss M. to Montreal last summer, and has no claim to be regarded as direct evidence for or against the authenticity of her book. " Fourth. The affidavit of Nancy M'Gan is signed with a cross, as by one ignorant of writing ; and she states that she visited a house of ill fame, (to all appearance alone,) although, as she asserts, to bring away Miss M. Her testimony, therefore, does not present the strongest claims to our confidence, besides, it is known that she has shewn great hostility to Miss Monk, in the streets of Montreal ; and she would not, it is believed, have had much influence on an intelligent court or jury, against Miss M., in that city, if the latter had been fortunate enough to obtain the legal investigation into her charges, which, as Dr. U. mentions, she has declared to be the express object of her visit to that city, in the last summer, and in which she failed, after a month's exertion. 158 MARIA MONK. '•' Fifth. The affidavit of Mr. Goodenough is contradicted in one point by the letter of Mr. Richey, a Wesleyan minister, which you insert, and contains little else of any importance to this or any other case. * * * *' Sixth. You copied in a conspicuous manner, from a Catholic paper in Boston, a charge against the book, the ground- lessness of which has been exposed in some of the New York papers, viz. that large parts of it were ' Word for word, and letter for letter,' (names only altered) copied from a book pub- lished some years ago in Europe, under the title of * The Gates of Hell opened.' We have not seen in your paper any correction of this aspersion, although the assertion of it has placed you in a dilemma ; for, if such were the fact, as you asserted, the Mon- treal affidavits would have little application to the case, liesides, that book having proceeded from Catholics, and relating, as was intimated, to scenes in European Convents, divulged by witnesses not chargeable with prejudices against them, is to be taken for true with other names ; and therefore the charge of extravagance or improbability, which is so much urged against our book, is entirely nullified, without appealing to other sources of infor- mation, which cannot be objected to. " But before closing, allow us to remark that you, who claim so strongly the confidtace of your readers in the testimony of witnesses in Montreal, who speak only of things collateral to the main subject in question, must be prepared to lay extraordinary weight on evidence of a higher nature, and must realise some- thing of the anxiety with which we, and the American public generally, we believe, stand ready to receive the evidence to be displayed to the eye and to the touch, either for or against the solemn declaration of Miss Monk, whenever the great test shall be applied to which she appeals, viz. the opening of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal. I'hen, sir, and not till then, will the great question be settled — is our book true or false ? Affidavits may possibly be multiplied, although you say, * Here, then, is the whole 1' Dr. Robertson may be again called to testify, or receive testimony, as Justice of the peace, — but the question is not, what do people believe or think outside of the Convent ? but • What has been done in it V '♦ By the issue of this investigation Miss Monk declares she is ready to stand or fall. " You speak, sir, of the ' backwardness ' of persons to appear in defence of Miss Monk's book. We promise to appear as often on the subject as you are willing to publish our communications. In one ot the paragraphs you publish, our book is spoken of as one of the evils arising from a * free press.' We think, sir, that ' a free press ' is exposed to less condemnation through the MARIA MONK. 159 •Awful Disclosures,' than the ' close Nunneries ' which it is designed to expose. " Respectfully, &c. «' New York, Feb. 22, 1836." The above was afterward copied in other papers. The following certificate appeared in the Protestant Vindicator and other papers, in March, 1836, introducing ihe two first witnesses. The truth of Maria Monk^s ' Awful Disclo;.ures' amply cer- tified. *' We, the Subscribers, having an acquaintance with Miss Maria Monk, and having considered thn evidence of different kinds which has been collected in relation to her case, have no hesitation in declaring our belief in the truth of the statements she makes in her book recently published in New York, entitled * Awful Disclosures,' &c. " We at the same time declare that the assertion, originally made in the Roman Catholic newspapers of Boston, that the book was copied from a work entitled * The Gates of Hell Opened,' is wholly destitute of foundation ; it being entirely new, and not copied from any thing whatsoever, " And we further declare, that no evidence has yet been produced which discredits the statements of Miss Monk : while, on the contrary, her story has received, and continues to receive, confirmation from various sources. '♦During the last week, two important witnesses sjiontaneously appeared, and offered to give public testimony in her favour. From them the following delineations have been received. The first is an affidavit given by Mr. William Miller,* now a resident oftliiscity. The second is a sttitcnient received from a young married woman, who, with her husband, also resides here. In tlie clear and re|)ealed statements made by these two witnesses, we place entire reliance ; wlio are ready to furnish satisfaction to any persons making reasonable enquiries on the subject. " W. C. Bhownlee, " John J. Slocum, " Andrew Bruce, " D. Fansiiaw, " Amos Belden, " David Wesson, " Thomas Hogan." The following challenge was published in the New York * The affidavits of Mr. Millur and others here alluded to, have been given in previous pages of this work. 160 MARIA MONK. Protestant Vindicator for six or seven weeks, in March and April, without a reply. . . . . *< Challenge. — The Roman Prelate and Priests of Montreal — Messrs. Coiiroy, Quarter, and Schneller, of New York — Messrs. Fenwick and Byrne, of Boston — Mr. Hughes, of Philadelphia — the Arch-Prelate of Baltimore, and his subordinate Priests — and Cardinal England, of Charleston, with all other Roman Priests, and every Nun, from Baffin's Bay to the Gulf of Mexico, are hereby challenged to meet an investigation of the truth of Maria Monk's ' Awful Disclosures,' before an impartial assembly, over which shall preside seven gentlemen ; three to be selected by the Roman Priests, three by the Executive Committee of the New York Protestant Association, and the seventh, as chairman, to be chosen by the six. '* An eligible place in New York shall be appointed, and the regulations for the decorum and order of the meetings, with all the other arrangements, shall be made by the above gentlemen." From the New York Protestant Vindicator , April 6, 1836. *' The Challenge. — We have been waiting with no small degree of impatience to hear from some of the Roman priests. But neither they, nor their sisters, the nuns, nor one of their nephews or neiccs, have yet ventured to come out. Our longings meet only w ith dissapointment. Did ever any person hear of simi- lar conduct on the part of men accused of the highest crimes, in their deepest dye ? Here is a number of Roman priests, as actors, or accessories, openly denounced before the world as guilty of the most outrages us sins against the sixth and seventh commandments. They are charged before the world with adultery, fornication, and murder ! The allegations are distinctly made, the place is mentioned, the parties are named, and the time is designated ; for it is lasting as the annual revolution of the seasons. And what is most extraordinary, — the highest official authorities in Canada know that all those statements are true, and they sanction and connive at the iniquity ! — The priests and nuns have been offered, for several months past, the most easy and certain mode to disprove the felonies imputed to them, and they are still as the dungeons of the Inquisition, silent as the death-like quietude of the convent cell ; and as retired as if they were in the subter- raneous passages between the nunnery and Lartique's liabitation. Now, we contend, that scarcely a similar instance of disregard for the opinions of mankind, c^ be found since the Reformation, at least, in a Protestant country. Whatever disregard for the judgment of others, the Romish priests may have felt, where the ^^■f- MAKIA MOVK. 1({1 lid srs. 8tS, ■are firia »ver [the lew be \. What must the public think of this veritable investigator ? 2 On his first visit he was denied admittance into the nun- nery. The main reason is obvious to all unprejudiced persons. It was to be duly prepared by the inmates for sucessfuUy playing off the hoax. It required some 'redden up,' as a Scotchman says, before the Colonel could be satisfactorily deceived. The nunnery underwent a longer preparation before the hoax was duly played off' on the famous ^we last summer. 3. He gravely tells us Protestants that ' Bishop M'cDonald, is — for a Catholic, not intolerant: he allows his people to read the Bible, and gives away all he can ubiaiii fur that object.' Let the public note how easily Ihe good ('ulonel courts to be hoaxed. 168 MAKIA MONK. 1 refer the public to the ten Rules of the Council of Trent, — De Libris prohibitis. By Rule 4th, the Bible is positively prohibited to all laymen, in their vernacular tongue. And this reason is assigned, * because the reading of it will cause more injury to arise than good.' See the Canons Cone. Trid. ; and Cramp's Text book of Popery, pp. <»0, 447. Hence Bishop M'cD, dare not give away, nor even permit any of his priests, to give away Bibles. If he did, he subjects himself to the papal curse, and expulsion from his office. How simple Col. S. is in giving cur- rency to the bishop's imposture ! 4. Mr. S. says, p 23, " Every door of every room, closet and pantry, was readily opened at my request ; and there was no apart- ment in either story, which I did not examine with the closest scrutiny, &c." In p. 24, he says, he came " to a long attic room," — " Miss W. had forgot to bring tlie key ! !" The careful investigJitor, of course, did not get in. The key was conveniently forgotten ! And the gallant man could really not send " the lady" down stairs for it. He did not enter it : he did not ** ex- amine it with the closest scrutiny." No ; but he gives us his sage opinion ! He supposed such and such a thing : he looked care- fully in. Yes, good easy man, he looked in ! Yet he tells us that " every door of every room was opened to him : and not an apartment of either story was left without being closely scruti- nized !" What an accurate investigator ! .5. There was another most suspicious place : it was no doubt, M. Monk's ** I irgatory." He asked for the key: it was r'- 6 & 14, BERMONPSEY NEW ROAD, LONDON. '» 4 i a MM C^iJEG respectfully to cull the attention of MINISTEKS, AUTHORS, X> PUBLISHERS, and the public generally to the fact, timt they cannot l^-^gct really good PRINTING done cheaper than at their Olliccs, where futrij ksrri|itinii uf Ittttr-^c^rtHs |c^riiitiiig, is execnted in the best style, at charges adapted to the prevailing spirit of com- petition, — from tiie tiny label that decorates the pill-box, or the little tract for the child, to the largest bill that meets yon in the public streets, or tlic monster volume in the library— for each and all kinds, G., J. & R. BANKS's PRfflTING OFFICES are now replete with every convenience for the speedy and correct execution thereof. Estimates for work to any extent, (with specimens,) forwiirded inmic- diately after application for tiie same. Authors' M.SS. corretccd for the press. €i[xh, €\m\m, IMlljirn^s k nil kinte nf misttllnnruns ^.^riiiting. G., J. & R. BANKS possess peculiar advantages for making known through- out the kingdom, Theological Works having Agents in very many large Towns. ENGRAVING* Executed in a superior style, on Steel, Copper, or Wood, by tirst-rate Artists. LED(JERS AND ACCOUNT BOOKS. % i^nrittn nf ^^^Iniu k hm\ .f tntinutrtj at l\thm ^cMirta ! Handsome Bibles, Prayer-Books, &c,, for Presentation. ifS- visitors to the Metropolis should purchiiso their Books nntl Stationery at this Kstab- lisbment. A reduction of 5 per cent on orders amounting to £1. and upwards. A greater reduction to Ministers and Schools. Goods delivered carriage fuke, to all places wilhiii Five miles of London Bridge. laiitji tmhn lUHiginim €xml Jitpm\m\, No. 14, BEEMONBSET NEW BOAD, LONDON. NKAH THK UKirKI.AYHIl's AUMS. I f L ¥••■ Jusl Published, in emhoxned Cloth, lettered, price 2s. Qd. LIGHT THROWN TJPON THE FOUB GOSPELS Being, A TREATISE on the indispensability of the distinction to bo made be- twixt Natural Faith and Repentance, as a Duty according to Law ; and Spirit- ual Faith aild Rei)eutance, as Sovereign Gifts, or New Covenant Blessings according to the Gospel : an Exposition of John vi. 9,7 : — " Labour not for the meat which perishcth ; but for that meat which endurcth unto everlasting life ; which the Son of Man shall give unto you, for him hath God the Father sealed." By Wm. Odling. " The writer ban used great plainness of speech; and a tender, humble, lovinfir spirit, doth run so gently through the whole work: and the author's ideas are expressed with such clear- ness, and so closely followed up with ' Thus saith the Lord,' that wo really feel a pleasure In in- troducing the work to the notice of our readers."— Crbistian RBVIE^rBK, , ; ,, In Numbers at Two-pence, beautifully printed on fine paper, with new type : THE SILENT PREACHER: Containing : Communings of the Spirit ; Christian Exhortation and Gospel Con- solation and Encouragement; being a Series of Scripture Meditations connected with Christian Experience. By Miss KEBENUArrucH Hunt. This is truly a spiritual, wholesome, soul-encouraging, Christ-exalting messenger. It will be found useful for private meditation ; or. as a Chaplain in a Ood-fearing family : and, in places where no living ministry is found, this " Silent Preacher" miglit prove a blessing to many souls, by being read to the assembled congregation, after prayer has been offered. We know assiiredly that the author's motive is pure, simply and sincerely desirous of doing goo ■ THE CHRISTIAN WORLD UNMASKED; Pray come aud peep. B, '^OifN Beruidge, A.M. New and beautiful edition. In boards, 2s., embossci cloth, lettered, 2s. Gd., THE LAWFUL CAPTIVE DELIVERED ; Or, the Prey taken from the Mighty. Being the Life and Experience of the late JA.HES OsBOUKN, V.D.M., of Baltimore City, Nqrth America. The Tliird English edition. iOnly a few copies left.] ' ' Also, by the same Author, of which only a few copies are left, price Qd. TRIUMPHANT GRACE. Signally displayed in some desperate Struggles between Old Apollyon, and a Young Believer. 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