"he CARMELITES 
 
 (THEIR OBJECT AND WORK:) 
 
 ' — V 
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 I)KI.I\ KRED BY 
 
 THE REV. JAMES MURPHY 
 
 IK THE 
 
 acai«^:m[c hall of the jesu 
 
 ON 
 
 - The nth Jitly 1875 
 
 MONTREAL 
 Printed at Le Franc- Parleur^s, 22, St. Oabriel Street 
 
 1875 
 
L ^i)^ 
 
1^1^ 
 
 THE CAEMELITES 
 
 (THFIR OBJECT AND WORK} 
 
 A LECTURE 
 
 DELIVERED BY 
 
 THE REV. JAMES MURPHY 
 
 IN THE 
 
 ACADEMIC HALL OF THE JESU 
 
 ON 
 
 The 11th July 1875 
 
 
 
 MONTREAL 
 
 Printed at Le Franc-Parleur's, 22, St. Gabriel Street 
 
 1875 
 
i* ' 
 
 J • 
 
 J 
 
 ■ V * . 
 
 ' 'I 
 I I 
 
THE CARMELITES 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen, 
 
 One of the chief cliaracteristics of the Roman Catholic Church is 
 the complotencss of her organization. She in maJS' for the un- 
 iverse ; and therefore is her power tittiut^ly universal. There" is 
 jio huma'i creature who does not find in her institutions, n.)t only 
 ii place for existence but a place for self-perfection. She is t'le 
 church of the rich and of the poor ; of the learned and of the illi- 
 terate ; of the weak who can only totter and of the stroiiiij who 
 can do battle ; of the unendowed who are di;;iwn to the earth and 
 of the gifted whoso aspirations soar hi^L^hor than the stars. She has 
 witliin her borders a place for the peasant whose vision is limited 
 by the fencijs of his native fields, and for the Plato whose eye 
 contemplates the dinuasions of a universe ; for the narrow little 
 soul of the H -brew who can be tempted to serve God only by the 
 milk and honey of the Promised Land, and for the broad, great 
 soul of Francis Xavier who follows his Lord for love and loyalty, 
 and not through fear of punishment or liope of pay. As in the scheme 
 of nature there is a purpose for the ivy as well as for the 
 oak. for the owl that blinks at an oil-lamp and for the eagle that 
 liazes on the sun, so in the scheme of the chnv(;h there is a perfec- 
 tion for the timorous heart of the loving St. Peter and for the 
 heroic heart of the magnificent St. Paul. 
 
 But in one especial direction is it, that the universality of the 
 Church's sympathies becomes especially remarkable. In the many 
 strange sects which have been the product of Protestantism a 
 most peculiar characteristic, common to them all, is the smallness 
 of the sphere they allot to the action of woman. In this respect 
 the Reformation was a direct return to the Paganism of Greece and 
 the Mahommed mism of Arabia. Forgetful that if the active 
 saviours of the race were generally men, they were sometimes 
 women too ; that if, in the early Church, there were deacons there 
 were also deaconesses, Protestantism except in those sickly imita- 
 tions of our discipline by which she tries to round-off and rouge the 
 wrinkles of her dying years, has never been able to assign to female 
 energy any sphere of operation beyond the narrow limits of family 
 and home. Kven when the unerrin": instincts of Protestant Ladies 
 have led them forth on errands of cliarity (and (( tales qiium sint 
 utinam nostrceessent, ») Protestantism itself has manifested neither 
 tendency nor capacity to organize the efforts of individuals into the 
 sustained and systematic movements of communities ; and the Protes- 
 
 ^^^^ rri A 
 
tant Lady who, with proper training and as a member of a body^ 
 mit^ht have had })L'iii'ficial influence throuL'h many ajrew and thrctu^h 
 many hinds, has, in her isuhition and uninstruetedness never been able 
 to do umch more tha,n to make soups for the siek or to distribute 
 flannels in the winter time. To do even that is of course most ex- 
 cellent. But compared with what women mi^ht do ; compared 
 with what they are fitted and therefore destined to do ; compared 
 with what they actually accomplish in that Church which knowing 
 their destiny su^fiplie.s opportunities i'or its fulfilment, all that, in so 
 far as its power to perfect the agent is concerned, is contemptibly 
 little. It engenders indeed kindly love of the neighbour. But love of the 
 neighbour be it ever so kindly, is not the highest law ; and the soft, 
 somewhat sentimental virtues by which it is attended are though the 
 most enticing not the most elevating, possibly the most beautifuUyhu- 
 man, but certainly not *he most nobly divine. For the great female 
 heart, capable of such lofty self-devotion and of such mightily 
 ennobling influence on all within its range ; endowed not seldom 
 with such splendid aspirations after a solitude that no world can 
 shake and a purity that no world can stain ; drawn oflen so mys- 
 teriously and yet withal so naturally rather to communion with 
 the angels than to companionship with men ; — for such as these 
 to be merely occasional hawkers of patent medicines and occasional 
 distributers of small alms, and then to fall back upon the usual 
 worldly routine of weary social ceremony and laborious self-ador- 
 noment, all that is a lot much more heart-piercing than it was for 
 Robert Burns to be a guager of beer-barrels or for the great soul of 
 Shakspeare to make itself motly as an actor of plays. And yet is all 
 that the highest thing to which Protestantism invites and encou- 
 rages woman. The noblest female hearts wasted on follies ; the 
 most splendid female souls sacrificed to trivialities ; in so far as 
 religion is concerned no avenue of escape from the dreadful destiny 
 of spiritual littleness — such is one part and an unspeakably bitter 
 part of the wretched outcome of the Reformation. For women who 
 are heroic Protestantism has no career. 
 
 In the Roman Catholic Church all is difierent. Among us 
 there is no female aspiration, however lofty, which has not offered 
 it a way that leads to its object and a guidance which makes the 
 attainment of the object secure. Outside our Church, there is 
 nothing more beautiful, and nothing more desirable than loyalty 
 and permanency in wedded love. Against such loyalty and sucfi 
 permanency the most rooted qualities of our nature — its need of 
 change and its failure under familiarity — eternally war ; and so, for 
 mere human capacity, unassisted specially from on high, that love 
 stronger than death, 
 
5 
 
 Love that is faithful and flxod as fate 
 
 Proof against years and troubles and tears, • 
 
 i-, except by the huppiast conjunction of temper jincl fitnesp, almost 
 an impossibility. But this, outside the (Jhureh so rare, inside the 
 Church is secured ])y a special sacrament, whose graces, if not 
 neglected, neutralize the action both of time and human chanire- 
 fulness, rendering it easy and a nuitter of course for the ^rey hairs 
 and passionless bodies of three score and ten, to feel lor one another, 
 fresh and warm as ever, the briu;ht poetic affection of their marriage 
 day. And, for all those whose desires lie not in the region of 
 wedded blessedness, no matter what the line on which they are at- 
 tracted, the Roman Catholic Church has not only places but orga- 
 nized and methodized functions ever ready. We have only to turn 
 over the titles of the various Orders and sisterhoods of reli<iious wo- 
 men, approved of by the Church, to find how wide is her sympathy 
 and how wonderful her skill. For, not only when a maiden exhibits 
 a heroic resolution to live above the easy level of the softness of 
 marriage, is her resolve sanctioned and strengthened, by vows 
 which make it stable and by modes of life which make it secure, 
 but, whatever special gifts of character and feeling (over and above 
 her love of chastity) she may happen to possess, have at once 
 awaiting them a select and special and exactly suitable career. 
 She has a list almost inexhau.stible from wliich to choose. She 
 may range herself with those who care the sick , or with those who 
 visit the poor, or with thovse who instruct the ignorant, or with 
 those who attend the hospitals or with those who walk the battle- 
 field amid the dead and dying. And whichsoever of these she 
 selects, she will find imparted to her therein a perfection of trai- 
 ning and a conceutratedness of self-devotion, which give her an 
 cjTivjiency that no where else could have been even by approxima- 
 tion attainable. 
 
 But, outside these lines of activity, where the work of the Nun 
 is more or less the work of the secular lady organized and per- 
 fected, there is a region i^to which in every generation some few 
 feel themselves called. From the earliest times there has always 
 been a recognized minority of nobler souls ; enamoured of perfect 
 solitude ; enwrapt by contemplative thought ; preferring suffering 
 to action ; bearing the sad burthen of their own generation ; in silent, 
 self-inflicted suffering, making some amends for the noisy pleasures 
 that evermore are recklessly sending up their echoes in the ears 
 of God. Their work visible is nothing to what it might be, just 
 as Christ's work visible was nothing to what it might have been. 
 He, had He been so minded, might have done vast things for 
 Poetry, Science, Politics, and general material progress ; but iu 
 these departments He did absolutly next to nothing ; making 
 
6 
 
 I 
 
 Himself a name itiore by paFsivc cntlurancc tl an by active industi. oi 
 c«« by appearances before the public than by jealous .l.unnin.^ ,' n: 
 he multitudes tl at He nn^ht be able to ^., aj art into the nuMu f( 
 tiirKS to pray. The Gospel history of the si.ters 31artha a.„ a 
 Mary affords a similar example. Martha, it would ..e*m was e 
 ma^nihcent specimen of the active, cnci-etic person, who lovc^ t 
 for Its own sake, to be stirrin-, busied, and able to exemplifv h i 
 the actual state of the dinner tiible the exc, IKnce of her own d( 4 
 mestie administration, and who, even thou^li the cLxnience of tla ^ 
 Lord God had brouoht a stilhiess on all the ajartmc nt, would have 
 her eye ready to di tect and her hand ready to remedy the dis 
 arrangment of a curtain or the unsatisfactory pnsiti. n I.f -i chair * 
 Mary, on the other hand, is a suitable illustration of the sn -iller ^ 
 class whose activity is (,f the soul much more th«'n of the body ' 
 who think It a less hi-h thini; to be industriously busy in the lili- 
 Of earth tlian to be absorbed in contemplatinn the life of heaven • 
 and who, careless of tfie rebukes of the industrious Martha an,i 
 know.nj:' well that to be busied about many tl.ii.os is not the better 
 part, lued little of the voices of men beino- evermore waitii... to 
 hear (and hearin^O m solitude and silence the soKn.n convent of 
 the Lord. Such soul<, with a passion for isolation, siknce thought 
 are never very numerous. Less numerous still are they wheif tci 
 that i,assion of eoneentrat d eont<-mplation, is added on the other 
 of undergoin.u' for the world continued seli'-i„flicted sufferin<' But 
 even of that latter class ev.ry a-e by God's .race can produce a 
 few representatives And ..uch are the Carmelites, of whom and • 
 for whom I speak this eveiiin<r. 
 
 With that beautiful book of the Revd. Father Braun before 
 the pub he, the latest addition to the world's true literature made 
 by the illustrious Society of J(m,s. it will not be at all lu cessaiy 
 for me to 8p,^ik except in the briefest manner, of the Carmeliti 
 Order and of the history of its advent here. As a body of Nuns 
 the tarmehtes commenced existence in the 15th century But 
 the formation of the order then, lacked the cohesion found only 
 in the W'orkmanship of a saint. It was not till a century latCT 
 tliatinlSbi, soniewhere about the time that Queen Elizabeth 
 commenced to reform Ireland, that St. Theresa was raised up t 
 finish what less able hands had begun. Since her time to the\.re- 
 sent, the Sisters of Mount Carmel have had in the Church amlmo- 
 so many religious orders, a vigorous existence. Their number hat 
 nevor been great, for the class of women willing to lead lives like 
 theirs-o. complete solitude and isolation, of continual mortification 
 and self-denia of utter life-long abstinence from flesh meat and all 
 delicacies of all kinds, of severe fast for almost all the year of 
 sustamed prayer and watehing, and of voluntary corporal penance 
 
«f the most tryinjr kind — the number of persons at any time in the 
 modern world willing; to lead lives of that description, is always un- 
 fortimately very sm;\ll, and so the Sisters of Mount Carmel, in 
 any modern «renerati<.n, would be easily counted. Still, by God's 
 grace, they do not perish <|uitc away. It is even manaired for 
 tiiem that hidden from the world and silent though they are, 
 their name and character .should be noised far abroad, and that 
 binds of cold, unlovely ve,!retati(m should cry to (lod and should be 
 mercifully heard cryinix for th(! blessing' of Carmel flowers. V\) from 
 your own Canada, the prayer has acended ; the prayer has|been 
 '^Jiejird ; and amon<r you there have come to dwell, 8(1(10 mill s from 
 their native home, six true dautrhters of St, Theresa whose jpray- 
 crs will be the best safejzuard of your city, and whose self ini})osed 
 sufferiui:- will shield your hearts and households from many a bit- 
 t r woe. And Canada, this new land of such varied beauty, but 
 iVom her very youtlifulness not wholly hallowed by saintly associa- 
 tions, betrins, in our own time, her loftier and truer history, liftini; 
 her younii' heart up to the L'lory of the higher life, where (lod is 
 not alouv.' the uuide and master, but the sole counsellor and the 
 sole companion. Unworthy clupiinu' and petty ((uarrelinn will 
 hencetorli bciiin to displease our Canada more and more. And 
 dreary, unspeakably dreary, though her lonu' winter be. pinchinu it 
 shall be and nurrowini:' no lonuer. for throughout it all she shall 
 have cheerful reniembi'ance of these heavt'U-sent flowers that shall 
 uo on to bloom and beautify, and make all round the land perpe- 
 tual summer, despite Ihe wailing winds and despite the surr'/uml- 
 ing snow. 
 
 That this ureat work of the introduction of Carmeiitos into 
 Canada — a work of far mightier importance for the Canadian na- 
 tion than the opening of a dozen North Western railroads or the 
 cutting of a dozen Lachine Cunals — that this great work should 
 have been initiated by a young Canadian lady, herself the 
 first flower that Canada sent to Carn)el. is a matter for great na- 
 tional pride and great national rejoicing. That a work .so large and 
 difficult should owe its present measure of success mainly to the wi^e 
 energy of him whose achievements for the Church of Montreal are 
 alike beyond number and beyond prais^e. our glorious and beloved 
 Bishop, is what for all who know !iiin re([uires no pronmlgation. 
 That a work .so dangerous for the spirit of Satan and the sj)irit of the 
 world should have to encounter many and mighty difficulties was 
 by all who realize Iiom' keen is the intellect of hell and how erass^ 
 the intellect of the woiid, to be expected. But despite all opposition 
 it has so far gone on, and go '>n it will prospering and to ])rosper. 
 Six brave ladies from the old chivalric and kingiy city of Rheims 
 — the royal city of royal France — have volunteered to come amont^ 
 
8 
 
 us and found tho new community. At Ilochelaua they liaveprocii j 
 rod a temporary dwellint-' and tlieretliey projjo.se to establish not onh, ^ 
 a eonvent but a Church which is designed to be a Churcli' ^ 
 of pilui'imaue to the Sacred Heart. The funds requisite for th/ ^ 
 erection of these bulMin^s have yet to be collected ; but they will" \ 
 quickly come from the bri«.;ht enliuhtened <>enerosity of the inha-^' 
 bitants of Montreal. The Community is as yet diminutive; but" 
 Canada, fruitful in so many ways, is not barren of high vocations." 
 and from the daughters of my own countrymen, I have no boubt " 
 many will be found who, filled witli tiie spirit of perfect heroism ° 
 which distinguished the Irish ladies of old times, will here, in a ^ 
 now land, revive the departed glories of Kildare and Armagh and ^ 
 Cashel and Clonmaenoise. We have all our little projects and 
 our little plans. Most of them fail most mi.serably. Even when they 
 do succeed, their success has only the unstable permanence of the 
 crude conceptions and the rude workmanship of humanity. But 
 this undertaking is from God. In the everlasting years and the 
 more than Carmel stillness of Eternity He planned it out ; even 
 then His mighty arms were stretched forth t<) gather into our new 
 convent the choice spirits of our new land ; and reliant upon His 
 ability to execute what He has designed and to complete what He 
 has begun, I confidently predict that though in social and politi- 
 cal ways the future of Canada be very uncertain, still upon the 
 banks of the St. Lawrence, as long as the many voices of its 
 waters murmur on to mingle with the mightier music of the ocean, 
 Irish and French-Canadian Sisters of Mount Carmel will be found 
 to^ raise in behalf of a generous (if careless) city one strong son<'- 
 of prayer and prai.se that will be effective, where politicks have 
 small efficienr-y, above the earth and beyond the stars. 
 
 But, Ladies and Gentlemen, such a course as I am suggesting, 
 that namely young fenuile lives so long gay and aimless should 
 suddenly in our new convent acquire a still meaning and a strange 
 solemnity, looks not only to all outside the Church but to 
 many in it very foolish and very fantastic. It has about it even 
 a cast of cruelty. It is giving up the world's freedom for the 
 convent's self-denial ; the world's friendships and family ties for 
 the life with strangers which the convent offers ; the world's cheer- 
 fulness for the convent's coldness ; the world's purple and fine 
 linen for the gloomy unlovely habit of the Nun. (( Why ! » the 
 cultured child of the present period will exclaim, (( it is a moral 
 « suicide. The woman that joins a Carmelite community is kill- 
 « ing in herself all chance of that large development of the affec- 
 « tions without which there is no greatness po.ssibIe. She is shut- 
 « ting herself out from her kind as surely as the grave could shut 
 « her out. She is smothering every tender human emotion as 
 
1 
 
 -" ^^ctivoly as cbatli could smother it. And all with the absurd 
 '^3i aim ()<' doiii"- a thiu'4- which she could do as well in her father's 
 ['\ or hji- husband's hou^e ! God's will is all that she is asked t . 
 % do. And (lod's will can be done witliout puttin,^^ oneself under 
 \ lock and key or hidin^^' oneself in an ugly ijown. Least of all 
 *"« can it be the divine desire to sanction that Jientle species ot 
 ^( gradual but cijrtain suicide inflicted by unhealthy fasts and fana- 
 • a tic mortification^. » That is the way of reasoning the cultured 
 ' child of the presint period will surely follow— a way of reasoning 
 only too often f )]lowed, to the detriment of all heroic endeavor, in 
 our very prosaic and very unheroic time. 
 
 Nevertheless, Ladies and G-nitleinen, there is nothing more cer- 
 tain than that such a mode of reasoning is wrong. And the puz- 
 zle is how even the world could argue so foolishly in a thing so 
 plain. For, to take the lowest ground, wlvt is it that the world's 
 wisdimi, even it, esteems the most? For what are mo.st monu 
 ments raised ? in whose praise are songs most sung ? for^ what 
 are aecorded the loudest and longest cheers ? Heroic .^^acriticc ot 
 self; it ; heroes.t^ey who in any noticeable way have devoted their live:^ 
 for a good caus^they are the men of whom the world is proudest : 
 they are the men whose very names are watchwords ; the story ot 
 wiiose deeds sends a thrill through the world's heart ; the picture 
 of whose character is set up every where for the imitation of all. 
 Now, suppo.se the Convent life to he all that the world paints it 
 and nothing more, still if self sacrifice in a good cause is to be our 
 standard of excellence, what cause is better their the cause of God 
 and what self sacrifice is more heroic than the self sacrifice of the 
 woman who gives up her nearest and dearest to lend herself limb 
 and life, body and soul, to a stern service whose rewards are long- 
 delayed and wliose demands are the most peremptory and the 
 most panifnl that can be made on luimanity ! The children of this 
 woi-ld are wise in t.ieiv own generation. But their wisdom is folly 
 when occupied witii unworldy affairs. 
 
 But. Ladies and Gentlemen, to go a stop farther, are those things 
 that the worldy man assumes really true ? Is it truo that the world 
 is such a delightful place, full of notliing but pleasantness^ and 
 gladness. Ah me ! the words of the old much-pondering Greek 
 have still a .sad sit>;niticance : — 
 
 Before the beginning of years, 
 
 There came to the making of man, 
 [ Time with a gift of tears, 
 
 ) Life with a glass that ran, 
 
10 
 
 Pleasure with pain for leaven, 
 
 Summer with flowers that fell, ] 
 
 Hopes as liitih as the heaven, ] 
 
 Despairs as deep as the hell. 
 
 The years of man are short and bitter ; and happy is he w ' 
 
 lias not often been tempted witli Job to curse the hour when it m ^ 
 
 announced m his father's house that a man-child was born AVi 
 
 should we conceal it from one another, wiien no one anion- us c 
 
 mana^ti'e to conceal it from himself ! Do not the winds moan ""and t 
 
 rains beat, and the flowers decay and the fruits fall, and the ski 
 
 darken, and the sunshine grow dead and cold ; and do we not ■ 
 
 know that so will it be with each of us till we lie in the lasthci 
 
 when the sunshine of the earth shall touch our brows no mon 
 
 And as we move onward towards that death and darkness, do \ 
 
 not a I know how the years will treat us, liuht and -loom, ptowN 
 
 anddecaj, flowers and thorns. -rapes and thistles, pleasures 
 
 our youth and then when old age comes, the waves beatincv ar 
 
 meanm- and threatening from that flir-off ocean of Eterni'tv 
 
 whose shores we are all bound ! Ladies and Gentlemen tl 
 
 convent is a stern truthteller and pretends to make thin-s i 
 
 better than they are; the world is a spangled iuu-ler that bio. 
 
 beauteous bubbles for little boys. There are roses in the world bi 
 
 the world knows they have their thorns. There are honeybo 
 
 m the world, but with their honey they have also their stin-s The 
 
 arc pleasures in the world but even the best of them are in the ci 
 
 know- to be false and hollow. We all find it out in time H 
 
 that was our greatest and wire.^t found it out, found it out wIk 
 
 he had gone the whole round of the world's deli-hts, had driiii 
 
 deeply of t liem even to tlio dregs. R. hes, fame, wisdom, kin-l 
 
 dominion, all were his ; he enjoyed them to the full, for he denk 
 
 nothing to his heart which his heart desired ; and yet he came t 
 
 say in the end that vanity of vanities and bitternes of spirit w« 
 
 the issue and outcome of them all. 
 
 ,..^.''^5"o^¥™T.' does our man of the world describe convor 
 Me fairly f does his conception of it represent it as it really is 
 Alas ! when he talks about it he talks about a thino- of which h 
 knows just next to nothing. He has possibly secui Carmelite 
 convents and has possibly seen Carmelite Nuns. But of the Col 
 vents he knows little save that they are built and mana-ed on ; 
 plan .lealously peculiar to themselves, being, generally; almos 
 completely hidden behind high walls and with never a humai 
 face seen staring from their windows ; of the Nuns he kno^ 
 nothing save that they are never seen except for travelIinLM3urpose^ 
 outside their convent, that they dress and demean themselves in < 
 
 ai 
 
11 
 
 nolsless ghestllke way, as if they had been born and i^cliooled in the 
 awful hind beyond the grave. But the Nuns themselves who have 
 had experience of the religious life, who have i'elt from j)raetice 
 what such life really is, who have gone in and dwelt and explored 
 where the doors are shut, could add a good deal to our world-man's 
 information. They could tell him that convent life is iiot <juite so 
 blank nor (juitc so gloomy as his fancy paints it ; that there is a 
 happiness beyond the convent walls which, if he once tasted it, he 
 Would seek forevermore ; that there are delights behind the convent 
 Walls which the world docs not yearn after because the world does 
 not know them ; that there is a music behind the convent walls to 
 ^hich all the music of his pageants and his palace are but as the 
 maddening gingle oi' a country fair. For, what the Worldling 
 fails to realize, the Religious realizes to the lull : — tliis. 
 namely : — that for those who seek them in solitude and silence, 
 Ungels art^ not absent from the earth today ; that lor the man of 
 yiiyer, and the man of thought the New Jerusalem has 
 nie down already ; that Pagan Fancy which gave a 
 |>d to every grove is not more potent than Christian 
 Fj,ith which gives a god to every flower ; and that even 
 wliile the world is sleeping celestial spirits wander and watch 
 tlj -ough all its ways. For, this universe, as the Nun knows, is 
 twifold, one part, the least important, visible, one other part, of 
 inl nitely greater moment, unseen. And though to mere natural 
 po^1'er what we see sti-ikes us more forcibly than what we know of 
 but do not see, with the supernatural power of faith that is not so. 
 For them thrt really believe, faith has always been the very 
 subst ince of tilings to be hoped for ; the very argument of things 
 that .ippear not. In old Pagan and Mahommedan stories we read, 
 with a tolerant smile, how by exercise of some myste'rious powerthe 
 Mag.fcian made the invisible visible, showing splendid sights where 
 no ?j)lendour of any kind was suspected before. I have even rcuad 
 hoy, whereas the vision of the other world was ordinarily vouch- 
 safed to the Magician alone, still by having a certain ointment ap- 
 plied to their eyes even the commonest people had the power of 
 seeing as the Magicians saw. Now what in these tales is fable and 
 fancy in Christianity has been made real and true. Faith is the un- 
 failing ointment and the efficient spoil. It makes the invisible ap- 
 pear. It desenchants the darkness of the earth. It lets us feel the 
 touch of our angel's hands and hear the rustle of our angel's wings. 
 Nay God_ himself it relieves of half his mystery ; sliows us His 
 face, shining up to us from His flowers, down to us from His stars, 
 and carries to us His voice speakip-' in all the se s that roll and all 
 the \yinds that blow. But the dth that does all this is not the 
 sluggish faith of the Ordinary Christian. It grows only out of 
 
12 
 
 lorj!^ prayer and solitary thou'i;lit, such {)rayer aiul siicli thought 
 as are found behind CarnieUte convent walls. Ai!d hence does it 
 come to pass that the efficiency of such a faith, thouii;h familiar to 
 t!i(! Nun, is almost unknown to the pc^rson of tiic world, almost, I 
 mi_Li,ht say, beyond his comprehension. For liin. the earth is just 
 what it looks to the outer eye, a dismal lamentisble place enough, 
 full of error and iiiuorance, of confusion and disorder, of sorrow 
 and sin. If you (juestion him about the guardian angels and the 
 ever-present (xod, he will pro])ably, suj>posi)ig him a Catholic, give 
 the correct replies, But his jiabitual i'eeling is very different from 
 what these replies would Luid you to expect. Practically, tiic 
 earth is to his mind, nothing better tl'an a castaway place with its 
 God sitting very careless about it, in His heaven i'ar away ; a cast- 
 away place where tiie wisest thing a man can do, is, to pick out its 
 best pleasures, enjoy them in the best way, and then leave it to tiie 
 death-hour to realize these awful jiresenees that during life were 
 never realized at all. In point of fact, the worldling's estimate of 
 the earth leaves out of consideration, not oidy the glory coming to 
 it because God is there, but the int^^rest which it excitles as the 
 dwelling place of heaven-destined, undying, human souls. For 
 him practically man has no supernatural destiny and the earth 
 no higher purpose than to be the home of beasts that perish and of 
 men that perish too. But to the lleligious the earth is a difierent 
 kind of habitation. It is not a market place, nor a grazing ground, 
 nor an election hustings, but a terrible battlefield whereon is being- 
 fought out the bloodiest fight that the univer.se has ever known. 
 It is the abode, not of men that are making or losing fortunes, but of 
 men that even as they go down Saint James Street are 
 walking on to heaven or to hell. It is the abode of the Devil 
 and the bad angels who bring their hell with them through 
 all their ways. It is the abode of God and the good angels whom 
 their heaven accompanies everywhere they go. The Nun cannot 
 forget the earth's true glory, cannot fail of seeing, what to the 
 world-man is invisible ; and therefore can never be wanting in that 
 rapturous happiness which communion with God and His angels 
 brings. Her pains she may have and sorrows like other women ; 
 but she can never be without comfort for the sorrow and balm for 
 the pain. For, every thing about her speaks to her perpetually 
 of that tender Father who is not in heaven alone but in evey, even 
 the meanest spot of earth. And not only does she know clearly 
 but she feels intensely that Father's presence, His eye that wat- 
 ches, His hand tb.at guides, His still small voice that whispers 
 tidings of guardianship through life, and of Faith changed into 
 vision, hope into frintion, when Death the blackest life hour has 
 brought her to the dawn. And looking upward to that Father's 
 
4 
 
 13 
 
 faJo ; hcarintr ever that Father's voice, she must be happy ; must 
 be l)l't'sse(l by ( J ods presence here ; must have cahn confidence that 
 for her fireat sacrifice he will be quick to give her a great reward 
 hereafter, even that reward which He has promised U) the poor 
 of spirit and the clean of heart and the hungerors aft<;r justice and 
 the just made perfect ; which lie has already accorded to others 
 who 'walked as she is walking and who hold their predestined places 
 in His home of manv mansions now. 
 
 But, Ladies and Gentlemen, it is not merely m the rapturous 
 enjovment of Heir divine solitud";, that our Sisters of Mount 
 Carmel find the highest delight. It is indeed a valuable reflec- 
 tion for us all, that oidy in solitude and stillness can any greatness 
 grow, and that 45 miles above us, the noise and nonsense of the 
 earth are over, its very atmosphere is known no more, no wind 
 nor rain, nor any flake of snow in the quiet region beyoud the 
 45 miles, uothing thera but the stillness of God and all His stars. 
 That, so far as may be, in silent, absorbed, concentrated 
 thoutrht the Carmelites enjoy. But that is not their chief enjoy- 
 ment Their chief enjoyment is in working out their special work. 
 And that special work is very peculiar. At first sight they look 
 to be worthless, idle. They will not teach our youth, nor visit 
 our sick, nor watch our hospitals, nor, except for the necessities of 
 their own household, will they engage in any serious manual la- 
 bour. They will be the Marys and not the Marthas of our com- 
 munity. The vocation of the six Carmelites now among us; the 
 vocation unto which we hope many ladies of this city will be di- 
 rected ; is not to aid ^lontreal either by their skill in nursing or 
 by their skill in schools. It is U) bless Montreal by rheir prayers, 
 and to save her by their suff"orings. One of the greatest of ^.he 
 great Jesuit preachers, that is one of the greatest of the preachers 
 of the universe, used to ascribe the conversions that he wrought, 
 not even indirectly to his own ability, but to the prayers of a poor 
 lay brother whose sole external ofl&ce was that of a door-porter for 
 forty years. The great victory wherein Israel smote Araaleck, hip 
 and thigh, forever, and forever, was gained not by the sword of 
 Israel, but by the hands of Moses, uplifted in prayer upon the 
 mountain. The fasts of Tobias changed the destinies of a family ; 
 the prayers of Daniel changed the destinies of an empire ; and 
 when Francis Xavier had a particularly hardened sinner to con- 
 vert, he converted him not by advice, or example or exhortation, 
 but by going alone into a solitary place, then stripping his own 
 poor shoulders, then lashing himself with whips of wire till the 
 good blood flowing from the poor Saint's body and the dumb 
 wounds pleading from the poor Saint's sides,forced God to soften the 
 sinner's heart till he confessed his sins and proclaimed his sorrow 
 
14 
 
 life of Our Blo»*d I,ll tl n ,L "",1'''^ '"ustrated in ,' 
 
 support, brinsin.. as tlJv w I hW . "'"'"''^'™'' ^.'""- ""«* gemr, 
 
 «h,d> n,ovod by thoir^;,edia i n^He ^d Mj' ""''''^■'<'' '' 
 this matter, sn verv ininortmt .,,,,1 '""I'ld no rnoro. ('' 
 
 enter into a' few dii :'^' V tl tlZ 2 Tt "'"""""' l^' "b 
 theological. But I will not be «„V ■ ■''■' /,"""" P'^*'"" 
 
 whether here or elsow ,e „o „„rtf T',"' "'"' "'"'". ^^'' ^ "" 
 oftensivoncas. ' """' " ^ ''^ ■"•'ua-e it, will oatli 
 
 universe is God KluVa 1 iL r^^ ,""" ""^ '■"'"«*• ' 
 tlmn He. In the last Zht n h ' '"i"-''" '' "" ""«"■ "'I' 
 vast theoeracy. And this SofrT-""'" 'V'"'' """^t ^c „, 
 the race (as ol' a kin /,«,"' b/;"; k'""*""'''' ""'""'^^ '«' ;, 
 Jual (asof atutor rat Inti^^ ''ll' T?'' '" *''"='' "»'" 
 In His hands it is th , "l Si,';^" '' "'i ° /' '""""' "> "" ""'j' so,, 
 and ail ■•etro^.-ession '."^t^i" ^;""J "'V:><--<^e--, all p?.,.,,, 
 
 the supernatu,-al o,-der. Without Pn,! " ' '" '"" """"■■■'' »» i' 
 inch on the way to heaver- wtl^^^^^^^^ ""^ «'"""' '""« »• ' 
 
 aeon, of sueooss on ea.th, 'l r" L 'n ^r '' T ,?"""" "™ ••" 
 .n ,t: if „e are in sin, shall wc ee -e 'fc ''t "'^ '*'-^-' 
 
 — :;: t:t^r;;:^:^,:ii - -'^^ '^ -^cr: 
 
 If on,. inte„i,e,.ee b:ird 'bH^lir.™:,^™- '^■'■"'■^ "■'' "-'"^ 
 bo dull and narrow, shall brc-i.lfl, •. wl t • l! t"" '■^"''"" ' i^'» 
 
 session V If ^, are'str^!,' ^a ho^ 1^^^^ V ^^^ ^^« P-" 
 
 ing; if wo are weak and^nick t ' h n ' ^ VT '^'^^^*^' ^« ^^^id- 
 we are weakhv and prnterm s^ t "" ^'"^^'^ ^^ ^-^"^t^^-*^'*^! '^ It 
 
 poor and unfbJtun^S ^ uS "' ^V" "^ ^^ ^^^' "'^'^ -'^ 
 hearts are happy and on L condition so remain ? If our 
 
 the sunn, dv^^Ki^rcoSuHr^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^ 
 
 of sorrow and houses of desol-ition , n ' ^ "^"^ ^''^^'« '^""'^ 
 
 comfort come to as for the (I: V °"^*r■'^ be dried and 
 
 that we have put bernVt It 1. 19 T' ^^ ^^' '^'^"^ ^^'^^^^ lip^ 
 all these quesL.s and oet^^j^f,-. J;-lies_ and Gentlemen, lo 
 a solenm one, well Trtl rimt.h '^"V ^"^ ""^^ '-^"^^^er: 
 
 the Lord's pleasure is not a wU n S: i '"^ P^'^'^'*^- ^"^ 
 
 and for the most part by known KwsVnf' '^'l T' ^^ ^'^^^ 
 tl^e .ost ri,id and certaLl, ^^r^Z:!^^^ 
 
15 
 
 'lia own words: « Ask and you .hall receive. » Prayer to God ; 
 application of Him to make ri-ht what is wrong and to keep 
 ijht what is so already ; that is the great agent upon wvlueh not 
 nly the eternal destiny but the temporal destiny of the world 
 Ifcoends It is a hidden agent and works uivisibly. But it is* 
 'hfa.'cnt whose work is mightiest and whose performances have 
 he nwst splendid pernutnence. It saves the souls : it heals the 
 Todies- it insures the talents; it makes the fortunes ; it wins the 
 battles'; it ends the wars. And all this it does, because so to 
 speak it en-a-es the action and employs the services ot (,()d. 
 *Now all this being the case, and, even in the natural order the 
 world being what we know it, a cmplex phic-e where the solemn 
 problem of life is solved with surpassing dithculty that each ot us 
 sliould be a prayerful person or be at least fenced round with the 
 prayers of otliers, is, for each of us. a matter not only ot hrst and 
 fundamental importance but of strict inevitable necessity. Uut 
 what we all ou-ht to be not most of us in our own persons really 
 are I am not now preaching : I am only lecturing ; and there- 
 fore as a man of the world I can assume what m the world I lear- 
 ned t.)' be a fact ; this namely: that whereas Christ orders our 
 pravT to be unceasing mo.st of us pray little and some of us pray 
 not at all. Nor in this are we very peculiar ; the same thing was 
 true thou^di not true in the same degree, of all ge.K>rations. btiU 
 some prayer, in odd corners of the world, does really go on ; .pistas 
 de-pite the -enoral ii-norance and the smattering that impudently 
 calls itself .iholarsh'ip, a few real scholars yet ren.am who set 
 themselves sedulously to gather dead truth and breathe nito it the 
 breath of life which uenius only can bestow and who knowing that 
 education means not' so much the collecting of iaets as the develop- 
 ment of pwcrs, bend themselves jealously to make their own 
 minds educated, tall and shapely and strongand supine and hrin 
 of hand and keen of eye. And as it is the few men of real light 
 who keep the many of the masses from utter darkness. ^<^ i^it.the 
 few whe pray that keep the world from destruction. )\ ell is it 
 for our poor earth-boat that she carries, in each generation, some 
 Ti^sar and his fortunes ; well for the cities worse than the Cities 
 of the Plain the Loudens that dwarf t^odom and the >ew-iorks 
 ■ ihat dwarf Gomorrah, well for them, that in their midst ten ,ust 
 "are always found ! And inexpressibly well, will it be for this City 
 'of :^Iontreal ; rid will she be of much vile trickery and much 
 mean dishonesty ; saved will she be from much stern suffering 
 which these thi'n-s cn-ender ; when down by her river banks she 
 will have all day'and all night going up for her to heaven the sup^ 
 plications of those pure hearts of Carmel— friends and spouses ot 
 ^ the Master, with whom to pay for her will be a profession, whose 
 
I 
 
 16 
 
 prayers will be sure of 
 God. The world knows 
 
 of vanquisliing love-strcn-thcd the ho.i 
 
 awful ,„ip„„i, „, ^ :^,,,^ , ''" ^x a boy and knows not t 3 
 
 Heaven a.s thev exist f/vl..,r «,.„ '"'n a^'o. it the recon J 
 that our Chyl ntZ hV'T ''"''."'^"' '' """''l ^e C 
 
 wl.o have ,nado Montreal IL,"Z „7 • ""'' "^^ '"''y ^•■'' 
 spot of all Auicrici • ■,,ul lu "^ ^'Swus centre and the kh* 
 
 history frou, thi I; tl^dVall t"r™"T/ I<"-*aP'>a;^ 
 
 the dc»tiny of L-lorv wh eh ll- n 'J'"'^^^^ " "'« >« *on 1 
 
 ned and Jiereod '7vSf St Ll*^' •'""'''« h'^' "- -l«t^''i 
 
 Mount-Carmel cau.'l t at God'li 7*1.'™ "^'"^ ^""o «"■■ « 
 
 till they shaped and stamld ,, A ' "u^r^ "»■• '-^t 'hen, 
 
 nation. Our7hor..om LTyou^ and tl*' :^,T\'>ig'>-piri 
 
 and even these, rav dear F.f.kT j ^ ' "'" ""^ thus suppli,, 
 
 go out against 'thJ^ZltZ it fe7*"^ *"""' '""' ^^ 
 
 the rush of war. remen.W aslhev wi iV'" T^'^'H"' "^ 
 
 Holy Mountain the latest to n»L T J remember that on 1 
 
 to their arms and sharnL, .0 J- "T '"" ''""K'"? ^tren? 
 
 hattle and Carmelites rtav mZ '"?'•'• ''^'* J'^iits to' 
 
 will be the mareh of a eonoumr Z "'• f """'"'■ Her „,a„ 
 
 crown to crown. <"""l''eror, trom victory to victory and fro 
 
 which r have just p opoled ifthatl" """"'P''' "' '*'■'*''> »« 'h' 
 suffer and that every cStian nm„ '^ """•, ""■'' «"""' « 
 proximate to Christ wTen r^^, T" '"' '"S* "-^otely a. 
 He did not leave it in the Iwer l^f """ T "^™« P"»<1 
 and the man who presents hCi ft the' h7^% ^ "■'^"*'™' 
 sears upon him and marks of h!f I. ,, '"'''"'' "^ heaven with n 
 
 hold a very "neomfortbfe lee "n o„' tt TI-TP «*''""»■ 
 stern unbending valour bronXf fl, !u 'P'i"''"^ ""^foes whos 
 cowards in thelmp of Chrfst as thlre '''' "'' '''™'<' ^ " 
 the court of God. But if one looks roudX °" 'ft^'^^isbtx ai : 
 but w,th generous eyes ; and if he fh ? """'I*'' ""* <"7-ieall, " 
 template Christ upon His Crucifix or « ij'?™''. *"^^ ^^^s to ee«. , 
 den of bloody sweat, he 1st give way to t'h?*' "'1" ^^ «" ' 
 between the one picture and tl,„ !,i, ■'^ ^ ""' *"'<' ■'eflection thai 
 trast; that ChrisLrgenerat do Tot *''%'" ^'■''^"'■'S »' ' 
 and that a life of .softness "sZost X •""''\'-'"^<'mble Christ: 
 the bitter march up Calvary wKere vet ,t^/ *"""*' a substitute f„, 
 ^hming. We live in an a4 wS wLf T'- "'^ ""^ ^""^ "« 
 
 " ""■"' ™atever be its attractions for 
 
17 
 
 «Jvc, i» not in tl,c opinion of its own bert men ('''>« J™ »>«™ 
 J 1 ' ,1 1. 1 -t all an iiupn.vcniont on apiH past away. Little 
 "* i^l achi^vcult., Fietle thoughu, and little souls are its 
 " »">', ''™^ It H an a.;e to be wept over -.vith many tears. 
 Utrl ofi.:: own d,ildren andL, as I think, i,» .rea.c.t 
 dd, writes about it ; ^ 
 
 i tST7ould explain for the ladies, was the ^reat Greek hero, 
 f^ Tmian war who in mueh anRor ren.ained for a long spaeo 
 ^ve durinrwhich time for want of his surpassmg valour the 
 reeks suffered very sorely.— 
 
 Achilles ponders m his tent, 
 
 The kings of modern thought are dumb , 
 ; Silent they are but not content, 
 
 ^ They ^ allt to see the future come ; 
 
 ' They have the grief men had of yore, 
 
 But they contend and cry no more. 
 
 They weep long watches of the night 
 
 For larger men an« larger days, 
 Great kingly hearts, creat faces bright 
 
 With thoughts t>mt set their brains ablaze : 
 Theirs tears the men of mirth deride 
 
 But great Carlyle is at their side. 
 
 Great Dante with his shadowy soul, 
 
 Great Milton with hi« music lips. 
 Great Shakspeare wild and wise and whole, 
 
 Great Byron with sublime eclipse : 
 The g:eat are gone ; and pigmies tread 
 
 Through ashes of the giant dead. 
 
 There yet perhaps may dawn an age 
 
 More fortunate alas ! than we, 
 Which without hardness will be sage, 
 
 And gay without frivolity : 
 Sons of tfle world ! oh, haste these years, 
 
 But till they come, allow our tears ! 
 
 Wbere is the brave man now who . seorns d^ighte arid livc8 labo- 
 rious days . ! Where is the man now who will say of Riches with 
 Sro'a^ - . Sunt qui non habent, est qui non <>"- habere ,, 
 
 VSome men have no riehes ; one man does not ^J to ha^>e 
 them » What scholar now can more among us, frank andeasy as a 
 W bearin Ais weight of learning lightly as a strong man should 
 £ it Uto a flower ! Alas ! our generation has made great steam- 
 X (easy things «> ^^ke). but it has not made great men, 
 
18 
 
 Ohino^s not prorluml with much facility^ Onr l. 
 
 than the huts of tho Homeric a-^r ,7!. / ,^"'"5^ ^re lar^ 
 
 "ot of the noble stock who " "" ^^^'"^'"^ '" ^''^'"' J 
 
 l)rank dnllKht of hatflo with thoir peors . 
 
 Karon tho ringing phuns of win.ly Troy. J 
 
 We Jine butter than thev did In PI..f.>'= • i , s 
 
 we meet at .li„„c. lael'iL' 1^1 tS w'h 1™^'^^ „f « -">« 
 
 havt' been distin-uishod. Th-it x^rf,,.. I ♦' ^.. -^ ^" ^'^'*^ ''*'t 
 In its room a low hun-ry e ' :, e t. i/ "" ^l'"'" '"^""'"" '^"1 
 life and classes of m ic v -m ""''^ ^'"■""-'' ^^^ J^^es ,^ 
 
 brightest and oi b'r^r flw" 7'''^^^^ ""' ^^^"^^ -'^ <"M 
 
 onon nothin, better tLn^;nfr:;d'LS "T ^'".^'H 
 .sensations, or emntv ho-ul...] l i. ^'^'tJdess seekers of m J 
 
 flower of ;,ur y . ^ w i :^^^^^^^^^^^^ -'^T. ''^>' ""''^'^^ tl, ' 
 
 hundredworldLfl^t^rt il 1 •''' l"T'"^"^ 'T-^ ^^ ^«ve 
 than a woman's pra se -S 'n '"' '''''^P "motive hi,Iu. 
 
 .irreedylustofsocialconoueiov^^ IT' ^'''^-''''''^ '^^'''^' ^'^ «"'«' 
 The pursuit of ^r^^l:ZCf'^'TT''-'''^'^^''^^^^^^^ 
 day; a bonnet to.no rowt^id'. ''"'"!!'■ ^ ^^^^^ ^^ 
 
 manufacture of the n, Ili^ery ^^1?^ ^^^'''r^ 
 flies of a summer, we buz" ?bo'u >; ' I ' '^'''^ ^^'^>'- ^^J" 
 sometimes over fetid Zu uu} "T'^^'v'"'""'""^''' '''''' A"^-'^''^ 
 
 too; and not ^r^:^' ^tho^^^Z^'"' """"."' ''''' ^'^ ^^ 
 more. ^ ^ ^"""^ °"' "''iuie« known for e\er 
 
 -^ow, Ladies and (lonflnmoi. ., • x n , . 
 sure a,s death and tlie .d . . '^^"'*>'- ^ "'' "" this, as 
 
 fnlil liiiserv and the stem trihn:.,t;Z tTvi ',^ ■ """^° ""= '"ani- 
 ■K-* k oftSn balanced raSer'7d "'"°'i » >'™"' "^ «»«- 
 Divine Mercy allow., the ofe t„ L^^ ,f"t ^"^ "'''<"' t"" »!« 
 ^cape-goat gL out into thrde :.^b ^hI^,:'''™- -^.'""^ >»» 
 People ; and the people are .ecure Tl!! °,f ^ ^, ""quities of the 
 a sensual son finds ready nardm.L. * f:""l«lRence of manj 
 tears The enor«,iti s Vmfny a bruta?V U'""'""^'''' '"''^"'»''' 
 weighed by the voluntary sXcourX !f f"'"p'"''' ?f"'" ^t- 
 
 And our c.y hL-a^h, stTaflaT^r thl^r of it 
 
19 
 
 1 ^..fftr flPnsnaVitv Will CRcnpe iinvisit«d their 
 3^ selfishnc.. -^^^^^f X rat« tor hi., the «inlesH..ul« 
 .er^tea 77»^«'J^;;;;";7;"atehi and sc.our^Mn,^striiH>sc raw 
 F Carmel shall ^y jf ^; " V^^^' pity the Precious Bl....<l of Him 
 OWT, ui)on her " '"^ ^^^f ^^"^jUos. offiee they eontinue, eruei- 
 ,hoso example they luuUU, anu w our salvation. Down 
 
 led \u these last times h.r our ^^'^ ^ * ' ; ;,^;„ ^^^^^ ,,^,i the bro- 
 vithin the city the w-e wj flow n Iti ^ ta crn ^c^^^^ ^^^ _ 
 
 ,hel roar; but yet .^et<tl.u^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^_ 
 
 for hi;.h ujK>n our ^l7"J^.^^/^,Xwin.^s about the city that He 
 plto.. and bater V^";;;^^^, f /^ " arHo,rkites th.^ n.a/wheel and 
 
 pray not ^"V'^^'^f \ ^ ' . "\^this way will they win your support, 
 ourselves refuse tn beai. lu tui. w i^ j j 
 
 f„, i„ this way wil th.y --^y- L Xil" 'ttir duty it 
 *■''';■ /''>^™.;;':::^;':iA,;Ou'i.- convent, U, m tl,on.jelve. tc, 
 ZV'" 1: ,in h 'urllhts „f lu.liuoss. nearer and «t.ll nearer 
 hig H'r and >•'''''-'' J "''ii,,,. ,„„y be able b. brin- lar-er and 
 to til.' face 111 (.lid, tliat M> iney "'• } , . ■ , ^^^„ 
 
 still lar.or lielp t.i y.iu and »',<; "'"^ '" ' .*' ^Im^ outside 
 Chnrel, ouKide that battles «"'''«'''';, ^ J"^,, „„„ ..utsidc 
 „!,„.„ sh.iuldcrsb,.,.l under weayl. ads '^J^ ;„,^j,„t «,,. 
 
 wh- heans are v'™'"^n'l--'X;.f,;: .; , w d desolation and 
 
 5^,:;.r*:hTh;:;!:{:w^o^-Mrrh,,in, ont^de ti. eo„. 
 
 nStre too Votu,. ^au^-^.— y^;" •- ^^S! 
 
 you ,he "-'^»"^: ;^'j:,;ia''"^S:'2 .lus does n,it eon,e .i all. 
 in^, some of jou aic i^-" »1- ^ . ,„„stthat it is sent to a 
 
 It does not come to many. But hope w n ^^^ 
 
 d.,.en few. Vhey who are ><n<»'^y . ' ' "^J, beyond the stars; 
 ,„„. for a stillness as f^^/^'^^S^^ ^^uM.^ spar- 
 thvwho,so souls are sick ot ™,'- '""^, "V .„„,u,,, . tbey who are 
 mw and need the a.r wh.cb *^,f?,f, J'3",;,eh/ praver of 
 
 a world : they who scorn the;I,ittk, ,*? Pf'^^f' V°^ "J^-^* • fd ' caU 
 tirnoble, the heroic and the.grand: unto such as t^ese.th^ caU 
 
 , . V • » • • • • • 
 
will come, bi.iainx them ari«u and .'o nut (Von, d...:- l- i , 
 their father's house ut.cI -inl tl. ■ i .1 1 tin.lred an 
 
 the Heree luHt, of th w Id 1^ . Jf : '','''' 'iT "'"" "'"'' '' 
 
 the hill T,,ey will llttfr; ^ut^^, .v'Trr''"" " 
 
 theywil ob<7. Aridobevjn.' tliova-;)] J miy will hear in,, 
 
 no noble man has ev„rdoubS tiftTh '•'™'' '."'''" ''■'''"''''•' «''" 
 l«Kly is well co„,pensatLl 1; the' sr,.-th„r: """."' "';'""" 
 daughters of MaVy (like Marv berllfT r"'f"" " """'■ "'» 
 
 and ,lory but ™rUdei:l7„i^ ^^.^ ;L" Idtl't thr l"""' 
 female heart so true and tender, so laVi and lov," '" ".''■''' 
 olden power, to ,.ve u« by it« ^ufferingtndl'.g „,'';;; i"^t: 
 
 END. 
 
 - ' ' • - • i. • * . 
 
 ', • •• • ■• * • ' « 
 
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