"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. • * . ', • •• • ■• * • ' « * ^