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Les diegrammea suivants illustrant la mAthoda. »y errata ad to »nt ina palure, ■9on A 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 mi ^^ " • a - i ' » ■ — • -*• #" rf-' life's % 'i^ ^tr -"*t *« ^^'^.n'^_ ■ '"-.• MYSTisrEs i0ii qewBM. ••*, ^ ■■»■ ■m^ i # ♦*" >,_ ^.!^ / f 'lilii^ ':*?'' 1 ■■' ' ' m > > »JtM • ■ -^ ll^^rii fljj* ' ' j-w" ^K^i- -UhJO^^^^^H ^R ■ ii ■^^•- ■ '■^-"" M M f J '^ JBw jHB ?Hi .'»_ iitf t" ^ ''■'*-■ T \SL . si' "l ^^^ % ^H| ^^B i ^^iH i^ ^^^^^Ci ^ ^^B^L^"^ ii '■■■'•'1 r'i J 1 fli^: * ( ( ri . '!' I •"m : I *^ — .. ft THS AWFUL DISCLOSURES on ARIA MONK, V"' AimTHB ISTERIES OF A ■m PHILADBLPHU : t. B. rarXBSOKy IOI9 OHUlTKVT ^ I "WMT'' 03127 i?*»" A ■m *^ 1# V . A Preface. 1 It If to be hoped that the reader of the eneaing namillff [will not suppose that it is a fiction, or that the soenea and irsoni that I have delineated, had not a real existeoee. It also desired, thst the author of thia Tolnme may be M^ led not asaTolantary i>artidpator in the wmfjp!0llst isaetions which are described ; out receive eyiniNCfkJK le trials which she has endured, and the pecallar " i which her past ezpeHefice, and escape from Uhb , . „ _ le Superior of the Hotel Dieu Nnnnery, at Mcntimii le snares of the Roman Priests in Canada. haTeleitl|er« My feelings are freonently distressed and agitated if '" icoilection of what I have passed througli ; and by ntt. id by day I have little peace of mind, and few periods Im and pleasing reflection. Futurity also appeam uficev* I know not what reception this little work may mw and what will be tiie effect of its publication amov nada, among strangers, friends, or enemiea. thi^ the world the truth, so flur as I nave gone, on tiihllQii rhich I am told they are generally ignorant; andrlMl ^ Kst confidence, that any fkcts which may yet be dlaoove^i rill confirm my words whenever they ean be obti ' )ver shall explore the Hotel BImt Knniieryat will find unquestionable evidence ihaiUie deaori interior of that ediliccL given t& tliia bodk, ^ ' by one fkmillar with tnem i for wlmleivlNr all ft attempted, there are dhasgea wlililiillo jter can make and eflBsctually conceal i and «« muat be plentiful evidence in tiiat InnlMiQiif of my description* I are living wttaeasaa, alao^ who ovihtto without fear of penaacoa, tortweib tad r ihelrtesttaiMiyataoitief^fore timew mi^ 1 inn mf ataliiiiiiila Theie are wmmmt "SI . -•*».■ 'Svi-li -^' K^U m ,>L..*-1 .i, . -w > ■ ' .' J. ^ » Freboa ri->' milly?4ototetM at Ittwrtf; or rather there iMfii. Are wmf wmng now t or will they bo permitted to Uto aftor the fli ii to and Soperiore here eeen this book? Peirhepe the wietehed nant m the cells have alreftdv saffered for my sake — forhape Jane Bav has been silenced for ever, or will be mrderedt before she has time to add her most important teettmony to mine. BqI epcodT death in relation only to this world, can be no fieai calamity to those who lead the life of a nun. The mere reeolleetion of it alwuvs makes me miserable. It would di*- tiess the reader, should I repeat the dreama with which I im ry. To me it can never app ar like an amusing fliwe. or loss its interest and importance. Tlie storr is one whIdD is continually befoie me, and must return frsMi to my mind, with painful emotions, as long as I live. With time, and OiristiSkn instruction, and the sympathy and examples of te win and good, I hope to learn submissively to bear whatever tHide are appointed me, and to improve under mm all. ^Ifiapressed as I eontinvally am with the firlghtfhl realty alllie painftil eommnpieations that I have made in this v^ Inaiek I can only ollhr to all persons who may doubt or d^ bsttevie my stateihents, these two thin s :— Twltnt me to gothronah the Hotel Dieu Nunnervat Moa* tMl^ adtti eoMoiinpartial hMlieA and gentlemen, that thej wtgf eompare mi aoconnt with the interior parts of tte kiBdf^, into whl^ no peraons but the Roman iBishop S4ld ' eve ever admitted; and if they do not tod my da* a true, tiien discard me as an ImposloCfe Bring ila %OOBrtOiJu8tioo— there I am wiUinjpH^eet Jafar * PAstofi, Bamin^ and MMmih and tiiaif i#ith the Superior, Midai^ irf the ii«Bi| T' ♦ ■ JWSf JMI, Joimary llf M6. >m. ST-* ap' \,f V AWFUL DISCLOSTJEES OP MARIA MONK. CHAPTEB I. SABLY BEOOLLEOSXOini. Early life— Religious Edacaiion negleetad— FIftI i'*^ trance into the School of the CongregatioiMl Ni — Biief Account of the Nunneries in Xoi Congrefiratioual Nunnerr— The Black Nunn Grey Nunnery— Puhlio Itespect for these 1 Instructions received— The Catechism-- ThfJI^It, .Mt parents were both from Scotland, but resident in Lower Canada some time before Uidur [marriage, which took place in Montreal, and in that [dty I baTe spent most of my life. I was born §& 8l» Tohn*s, where they lived for a short time. My fa* ler was an officer under the British Goveriimeuli id my mother has enjoyed a pension onthAlao- mnt ever since his death. Aeoorditiff to my earliest recollections, he was 9kU tenUve to bis familv, and bad a peculiar Pii<|gi [{from the Bible, whicb often occurred to me in lifs. I may Terv probably have been til •iifter Ms culth I did not recoUeot to" any iiietn|l|tpa at home, and wat nof avMl [Lroiq^i^ tojMWtbeBotiptuiee; my mottier, al* 9 AWFinCi PMWt i i PBK llioiigli ooniiiiilly a FrotesUnt^not being aoeatlooi- •d to pay atteotion to hl the school-room. On my eutraiice, the Superior let me, and told me first of all that I must dip my Ingers into the holy water at her door, cross myself^ ad say a short prayer ; and this she told me was al- ways required of Protestant as well as Catholic cbil- iren. There were about fifty girls in the school, aud the luns professed to teach eomethiuff of reading, writ- ig, arithmetic, and geography. The methods, how- ever, were very imperfect, and little attention was leToted to them, the time being in a great degreir mgroseed with lessons in needle-work, which was )riFormed with much skill. The nuns had no very regular parts assigned them in the management of the schools. They were rather rough and unpotish* id in their manners, often exclaiming, '^G'est tin kciiti," (that's a lie,) and " mon Dieu,'' Qny Qod^} >n the most trivial occasions. Xbeir writing was luite poor, and it was not uncommon for them to »ut a capital letter in the middte of , a word. The >nly book of geography which we studi^L was a ttechism of geography, from which we iBirnt by leart a few questions and answers. We were some« ^imes referred to a map, but it was only to point out ~ Tontreal or Quebec, or some oth^ prominent name, rhile we had no instruction beyonf . It may be necessary, for the in&rmation of some ^f my readers, to mention, that there are three dis« Inct Convents in Montreal, all of different kinds ^ lat is, founded on different plans, and governed by IMerent rules. Their names are as follows:— 1. The Congregational Nunnery. - 2. The Black Nunnery^ or Convent of Sister Bour* ;1> «ili Qfey STniinery. Ths flrit #tiii||^rnTlsses lo hp devoted mitbely te AWITO IfflMBMRnSB to ih% edneation of gf rit. It would feqiilroi liow« «T«r» only a proper ezamitiation to proTO, that with the exception of needle- work, hardly anytldng ia tftnght excepting prayer and cateohiim ; the ina^o* , tion in readinfr* writing, fto., in fact, amonnting to rery little, and often to nothing. This ConTont it adjacent to the next to he spoken of. heing separated ^\ from it only hy a wall. The second professes to he a charitahle institution for the care of the sick, and the supply of hread and medicines for the poor ; and aomething is done in these departments of charity, althongh hut an insignificant amount compared wiUi ' the size of the huiUUugs, and the number of inmatea. ^ The Grey Nunnery, which is situ n ted in a distant fmrt of the city, is also a large edifice, containing nepartmenta for the care of insane persona and foundlings. With this, however, I have less perw aonal acquaintance than with either of the others. I have often seen two of the Grey nuns, and know their rules, as well as those of the Congregational Nunnery; they do not confine them always within thdr walls, like those of the Black Nunneiy. These twoOonTcnts have their common names (BInck and GreylJpm the colours of the dresses worn by their In all these three Conyents there are certain apart* neuts into wMch strangers can gain admittance, but others from which they are always excluded. In all, large quantities of yarious omnments are made hy the nnns, which are exfK>sed for sale in the OmO' meni Roams, and afford large pecuniary receipts eyery year, which contribute much to their inoome. In these rooms, visitors often purchase such things at pleaae them, from some of the old and oonfidw- m^mins who have the charge of them. ^^ Vrom all that appears to the publie eye, tiie mnia oltlieee Convents are deyoted lo^e diaiilali#«V- htit iMropriated to each, the labour of makliig W- f^ml arti^ee ksowu to litniMiafltiifid by ^mit Of ILUOA. xoint. U id the Mllfiioiu obiervancM, whioh ooeapv ft large rtion el their time. They are regarded with mach ipect by the people at large; and now and then rhen a notice takes the Yeil, she is supposed to re- itorn the temptations and trouble ox this world ito a state of holy seclusion, where, by prayer, self- lortification, and good deeds, she prepares herself ror heaven. Sometimes the Superior of a Convent >btains the character of working miracles: and rhen such an one dies, it is published through the country, and crowds throng the Convent, who think idulgeuces are to be derived from bits of her clothes md other things she has possessed ; and many have lent articles to be touched to her bed or chair, iu rhich a degree of virtue is thought to remain. I used participate in such ideas and feelings, and began >y degrees to look upon a nun as the happiest of wo* len, and a Convent as the most peaceful, holy, -and ^lelightful place of abode. It is true, some pains vere taken to impress such views upon me. , JSome ^f the priests of the Seminary often visited the?t)on« »regationai Nunnery, and both catechised and talk- ed with us on reU;;ion. The Superior of the Black Tunnery adjoining, also, occasionally came into the shool, and enlarged on the advanta«;e we iojoyed |n having such teachers, and dropped something now ind then relating to her own convent, calculated to lake us entertain the highest ideas of it, and make IS sometimes think of the possibility of getting into it. Among the instructions given to us by the priests, >me of the most pointed were directea against the /rotestant Bible. They often enlarged upon the iivil tendency of that book, and told us that but for many a soul condemned to bell, and 6u£Fering eter- |al punishment, might have been in happiness. lev oould not say anything in ii/i favour ; for that I be^^eaking a|aiust religion and against Ood. wamed ne against its woe» and represented ii». \ a'lhfaif ff^f'.dangerona to onr souls* In confir* :4^4ri&^ of fhii, they would repeat gome of tlie en^ •wen teeght ut mt eateobinn ; a few of which I will here cife. We had little eatechitmt, ('' Let Petitt Oateohiemee") put iuto our hauds to study ; but the priesti 1000 began to teaoh as a new set of answers, whioh were not to be found in our books, from some of which I haTe received new ideas, and i^ot, as I thought, important light on relijcious subjects, wbic!t ooofirmed me more iu my belief in the Koman Ca- tholic doctrines. Those questions and answers I cau atill recall with tolerable accuracy, and some of them I will add here. I never have read them, as we were taught them only by word of mouth. ^ Question* Porquoi le bon Dieu n*a pas fait tous lee eommandemeus P" — ^^Meimonse, ]Paroe que i* homme n'est pas si fort qu'if pent garder tout ses eommandemens.'* ^'Ofiesiion* Why did not Gk)d make all the com- mandments P** — '* Answer. Because mau it not strong enough to keep them.^ ' And another : *' Q. Porquoi Thomme ne lit pas l* ETaiigileP"— '^il. Parce que Tesprit de rhommee^t trop borne et trop faible pour comprendre qu'est ce que Dieu a ^crit.'' ** Q. Why are men not to read the New Testa- roenlP**— ^ A. Because the mind of roan is too limit- ed and weak to understand what Gk>d has written. " These questions and answers are nut to be found in the common catechisms in use in Montreal and other places where I have been, but all the children fai the Congregational Nunnery were taught them, and many more not found in those books. CHAPTER n. OCmOKEQATlOVJLL KUHKEET. Stoiy told by a Fellow Pupil sgainsta Priest «>Other Stories — Prrtty Maiy-'OonliMS to iktlisr Biduurds— My mibte- sniSBt oopftssinn i InstnMHftnff la the mstscihiim Xkai waa a gill tUrteett year* Md whooi I knew ■#^. dt ICABU MOtnL IS fb^ tobooly who reaided iu tlie neij^bonrhood of ly mother, and with whom I had beeu familiar. Ihe told me one day at lohool, of the oondnot of a >rie8t with her at confession, at which I was aston- ihed. It was of so criminal and shameful a nature, could hardly believe it, and yet I had so much C3a- Idenoe that she spoke the truth, that I could not discredit it. 8he was partly persuaded by the priest to belicTe le could not sin, because he was a priest, and that mythitig he did to her would sanctify her; and yet khe seemed somewhat doubtful how she should act. priest, she had beeu told by him, is a holy man, md appointed to a holy office, and therefore what rould be wicked in other men, could not be so in lim. She told me she had informed her mother of it, rho expressed no anger nor disapprobation; but Idly enjoined it upon her not to speak of it; and re* larked to her, as priests were not like men, but loly, and sent to instruct and saye us, whatcTor they lid was right. I afterwards confessed to the priest that I had teard the story, and had a penance to perform for ndulging a sinful curiosity in making inquiriea; Liid the girl had another for communicating it^ I Afterwards learnt that other children had been tiW^ I in the same manner, and also of similar prooeetia^ Indeed it was not long before such language Ma ised to me, and I well remember how my yrmnii pght and wrong were shaken by it. Another gkl \ the school, from a place above Montreal, called le Lac, told me the following story of what had oe« irred recently in that vicinity. A young squawi lied La Belle Marie, (pretty Mary,) had been seen ' { to eonfesdon at the house of the priest, who a little out of tha village. La Belle Maile was iraida miseed, and^bar murdered bo49r was »mid in Um livwr. JL Imile waa alio found bearinir pimUfB naom. Oreat- indigiMion WMwmcmi m ti^ 14 ▲wVuft iMoaLOSOBflB MMmg the Indiana, and iha priest immadialaly ab- aaonded, and was never heard from. A note was ftmnd on hia table addressed to him, t^ng Idm to tjt if he was guilt v. It was 8opiK>8eathat the priest was fearfnlthat Ida oondact might be betrayea by this yonog female ; and be undertook to clear himself by killing her. These stories struck me with surprise at Brat, but 1 gradually began to feel differentl^ri even supposing lliem true, and to look upon the priests as men in- aapabla of sin ; besides, when I first went to confess, wbkb I did to Father Bichards in the old French ^BWdi, since taken down, I beard nothing impro- Mr ; and it was not until I had been several tunes ibat the priests became more and more bold, and ware at lensth indecent iu their ouestions, and even in their conduct when I confessed to them in the Sa- eristie. This subject, I believe, is not understood nor anapected among Protestants ; and it ia not my intention to speak of it very particularly, because it ia impossible to do so without saying things botii shameful and demoralizing. I will only say here, that when quite a child, I beard from the mouths of the priests at confession what I cannot repeat, with treatment correspond- M^l and several females in Oanada have assured me tiiat they have repeatedlv, and indeed regularly, baan roqmred to answer the same and other tike fuastious, many of which present to the mind deeds iHiiab the most iniquitous and corrupt heart co^d Ittrdly invent. Thm was a frequent change of teachera in fbe asbool of the Nunnery| and no regular system was pursued in our instruction. There were many nuns who name and went while I waa there, being f re- fuaatty called in and out without any peroiqptible Tb^ mpjfij school teadierato many of the oountnr towii% usually two to aaoh of the lowna 1^ wiiiob I waa aoqnaiBtaai basidea aandinf flislers Of loUA urnxm. U Ohtrity to many parts of the United States, loog those whom I saw most was Saint Patriok, old woman for a nvLu^ that is about f orty, very ig« >rant and gross in her manners, with quite a beard her face,. and very cross and disagreeable. She sometimes our teacher in^sewing, and was ap« >inted to keep order among us. We were allowed enter only a few of the rooms in the Gongrega- ' [onid Nunnery, although it was not considered one the secluded Convents. la the Black Nunnery, which is very near the Con* ^gational, is an hospital for sick people from the |ty ; and sometimes some of our boarders, such as rere indisposed, were sent there to be cured. I was ice taken ill myself and sent there, where I re-. lined a few days. There were beds enough for a considerable num- » more. A physician attended it daUv, and there re a number of the yeiled nuns of that ConYent who md most of their time there. These would also sometimes read lectures and re* . »at prayers to us. After I had been in the Oongregational Nunnefr mt two years, I left it, and attended several dtf* )rent schools for a short time. But I soon became ^ssatisfied. having many and severe triids to endure home, which my feelings will not allow me to de« ribe : and as my Gatholic acquaintances had often [>ken to me in favour of their faith, I was inclined believe it true, although, as I before said, I knew ktle of any religion. While out of the nunneiy,' X kw nothing of religion. If I had, I believe I diouU iver have thought of becoming a nun. ^^^,*:/a; u ▲Unroll fitiOLMtnofift CHAPTER m. bulCE vxnnsnsxx, Fmaratfonito become a Noirice in the Blnok Nminery^ Entrance— Occupati ns of thei|?0Tice8~The apa^ toienta to which they had access— First interview with Jane Kay -Reverence for the Superior—A wonderful Nun— Her rellqnea-The Holy Good Sbepherd, or NamdeM Kun— Confession of Novices. At length I determined to become a Black Nun, and called upon one of the oldest priests in the Seminary, to whom I made known my intention. 'The old priest to whom I applied was Father Bocqne. He is still alive. He was at that time the oldest priest in the seminary, and carried the Bon Pieu, Good God, as the sacramental wafer is called. When going to administer it in any country place, be used to ride with a man before him, who rang a i»Il as a signal. When the Canadians heard it, whose habitations be passed, they would come and {irostrate themselves to the earth, worshipping it as a Qod. He was a man of great age, and wore large anrls, so that he somewhat resembled his predeces* •or, Father Boue. He was at that time at the head of the Seminary. This Institution is a laii^e edifice, ntaated near the Congregational and Black Nunner- le|, being on the east side of Notre Dame ^reet.^ It Is the general rendezvous and centre of all the priests in the district of Montreal, and I have been told, sni^lies all the country as far down as the Three .Elvers, which place, I believe, is under the charge of the Seminary of Quebec. About one hundred and iLfiy priests are connected with that at Montreal, as every small place has one priest, and a nnmberof fiiimr ones have two. Iwier Bocqne promised to convAse with the Sn* peiior of the OonvMiV and proposed my oallipiraipln at the end of two weeks, at which tiaoe I vMtei the Seminary again, and WM introdnoed bjr Uea 1^ the i am UMMtAWOmK, 17 Snperior of the Black Nunnarj. She told bm die {must make tome Inqniriei, before ihe oould gire me I a decided answer, and proposed to me to take up my abode a few daje at the house of a French family in St. Lawrence suburb^ a distant part of the dtjr. Here I remained abftt a fortnight; dnrinji whioh {time I formed some aotfiiaititance with the family, particularly with the mistress of the house, who waa a devoted Papist, and had a high respect for the Stt* perior, with whom she stood on good terms. At length, on 8aturdny morning about ten o'clock, I called, and was admitted into the filack Nunnery as a noTioe, much to my satisfaction, for I had a [high idea of life in a Convent, secluded, as I enp* >osed the inmates to be, from the world and all its [evil influences, and assured of everlasting happineea in heaven. The Superior received me, and oondnct* ed me into a large room, where the novices, who are Icalled in French, Postulantes, were assembled, and (engaged in their customarv occupation of sewing, I Here were about forty of them, and they were col- lected in groups in different parts of the room, chief* ly near the windows ; but in each group waa foui^l one of the veiled nuns of the convent, whose abode [was in the interior apartments, to which no novice Bras to be admitted. As we entered, the Superior in« Formed the assembly that a new novice had come,' ind she desired any one present who might have mown me in the world to signify it. Two Miss Feugnees, and a Miss Howard from Yer* innt, who had been my fellow-pupile in the Gon* rregational Nunnery, immediately recognised meb ^ was then placed in one of the groups at a diatanoe romthem, and furnished by a nnn, called Saiale aotilde, with materials to make a purse, such aa jnests use to carry the consecrated wafer in, when they go to administer the miiment to the 81^, I rell remember my f eii||^S that titee, sitting imong a nnmber of aH^pbi mA ^pecUng m¥k 174 B ft 3 18 ▲WTOi SflKMilTW minfQl amdetj the aniTtl of the dinner^heiir. TheD, ee I knew, oeremonies were to be perfonned, thotfh f (Mr whioh I wm but ill prepared, at I bed not yet beerd the rules by which I wm to be go* Temed, end knew nothini^ of the forma to be repeat* edin the daily ezeroiset, except the oreed in Latin, and that imperfectly. This was during the time of recreation, as it is called. The only recreation there allowed, however, is that of the mind, and of this there is but little. We were kept at work, and permitted to speak with each other only in hearing of the old nuns who sat by us. We proceeded to din- ner in couples, and ate in silence while alectnre was read. The noTices had access to only ei^ht of the aparf • ments of the Convent ; and whatever else we wished to know, we could only conjecture. The sleeping room was in the second story, at the end of the wes- tem«wing. The beds were placed in rows, without curtains or any thing else to obstruct the view ; and in one corner was a small room partitioned off, in which was the bed of a ni^ht-watch, that is, the old nun who was appointed to oversee us for the night. In each side of the partition were two holes, through which she could look out upon us whenever she pleased. Her bed was a little raised above the level of the others. There was a lamp hung in the mid- dle of our chamber, which showea everything to her very distinctly; and as she had no lisht in her little room, we never could perceive whether she was •wake or asleep. As we knew that the slightest de- viation from the rules would expose us to her obeer- ▼ation as well as to that of our companions, in whom it was a virtue to betray one another's faults, con- tinual exposure to suffer what I disliked, and had my mind oceapied in thinking of what I was to do next, and what I most avoid. Though I soon learned the volet and eevenoniee we had to paae, wbloh were amnj, and w« bid to be naf pattfoulaY in ttieir ob- ov iciit4 Hon* i* lerranoa, we were employed in difleraui kinds el ifork while I watanoTioe. The most beantifnl ipecimen of the nun'e manufacture which I taw. ^as a rich carpet made of fine worsted, which had )eau hegun before my acquaintance with the Oon* rent, and was finished while I was there. This WM lent as a present to the King of England, as an ez« )res8ion of gratitude for the monej annuallj re* teived from the go?ernment. It was about forty rards in length, and Tery handsome. We were ig* lorant of the amount of money thus received. The >nyent of the Grey Nuns has also received funds from the government, though ou some accoanl or )ther, had not for several years. I was sitting by a window at one time with a girl lamed Jane M'Coy, when one of the old nuns came ip and spoke to us in a tone of liveliness and kind* lesSy which seemed strange in a place where every thing appeared so cold and reserved. Some remaru fhioh she made were evidently intended to cheer md encourage me, and made me think that she felt lome interest in me. I do not recollect what riie laid, but I remember it gave me pleasure. I lUne remember that her manners struck me singularlv* 3be was rather old for a nun— that is, probably thirty ; her figure large, her face wrinkled, and her Iress careless. She seemed also to be under less re* int than the others, and this I afterwards found ras the case. She sometimes even set the rules at lefiauoe. She would speak aloud when silence was ittired. and sometimes walk about when she ought have Kept her place : she would even say and do .jings on purpose to make us laugh, and, although ^f ten blamed for her conduct, had her offences f re* tuently passed over, when others would have been mnished with penances, I learnt that this woman had always been aingn- ir. She never wonld consent to take a sak^anaiM reeelvittf tliisve0»«iidliedalway8 been known bj ▲WJOL IXI80L08UBB8 b«r own, which wm Jane Bay. H«r irregalaritiaa wan found to ba nnmacona, and paoanoea wara of •o littla naa in goTaruing har, thai aha waa pitiad bj aomai who thought har partially iniana* She wa% thmfora, oommoulj tpokau of aa mad Jane Bay ; and whan tha oommitted a fault, it waa apo- logiaad for by tha Supahor or other uunS| on the fioond ttiat aha did not kuow what she did. Tha oooupatioDt of a novice iu the Black Nunnerj are not anoii as eome of our readers may suppose. Thay ara not employed in studying the higher branchaa of aducatiou : they are not offered any ad- Tantagaa for atoring their miuds, or polishing their mannara; they are not taught even reading, writing, or arithmetic ; much less any of tha mora advanced branohas of knowledge. My time was chiefly em- ploj^ad, at first, in work and prayers. It is true, anriog tha last vear I studied a great deal, and was laqnirad to work but verv little ; but it waa the study of pray ara in Freuch aud Latiu, which I had merely to commit to memory, to prepare for the easy repe- tition of them on my reception, aud after I should be admitted aa a nun. Among tha wonderful eTants which had happen- ad in tha Gonvant, that of the sudden conversion of a gay youna lady of the city iuto a nun appeared to ma ona of tha moat remarkable. The story which I first heard while a novice, made a deep impressiou npon 0117 mind. It waa nearly aa foUowa : Tha oanghtar of a wealthy oitiaen of Montreal was paasing the ohureh of Bon Seooura ona evening, on nar way to a ball, when aha waa auddauly thrown down npon tha steps or near tha door, aud received a aavara shook. She waa taken up, and removed fir^ I think, into tha chnrch, bnt aoon into the Black Nunnery, which she determined to Join as a nna; instead, nowavar, of being required to pass tbiopigb a long novitiata, (which nsoally oaanpies aibonl two yaaia aada half, and ia abrMgad only OV ICABU XOKX. SI 7h«ra the ohtftotor if peooliarly ezempltfr utd d«« /out) iho was pennittad to take the tmI without de- lay, Deing deolared by God to a priest to be in a itate of sanotity. The meaDiog of this etptessioii is, that she was a real saint, and already io a .great leasnre raised aboTe the world and its inflnenoes, ^dinoapable of sinning; possessing the power oi Intercession, and a proper object to be addressed in >rayer. This remarkable individual, I was farther iformed, was still in the Convent, though I noTer ras allowed to see her ; she did not mingle with the )ther nuDs, either at work, worshiper meals: lor ihe had no need of food, and not only her soul.bat ler body, was in heaven a threat part of her time. Tlhut addedj if possible, to the reverence and myste- ions awe with which I thought of her, was the faot learned, that she had no name. The titles need hi ipeaking of her were, the holy saint, reverend mo* kber, or saint bon pasteur, (the holy good shepherd.) ' It is wonderful that we could nave earned oar Reverence for the Superior so far as we did, although [t was the direct teudency of many instructions and ^gulations, indeed of the whole system, to permit, )ven to foster, a superstitious regard for her. One )f us was occasionally called into her room to oat ler nails, or dress her hair ; and we would often eol^ )ct the clippiugs, and distribute them to each other, ^r preserve them with the utmost care. I once pick- Id up all her stray hairs I could find after combing W head, bouud them together, and kept them for >me time, until she told me I was not worti^y to Dssess things so sacred. Jane M'Ooy and I were ^nce sent to alter a dress for the Superior. I gather- |d up all the bits of thread, made a little basr, and fut them into it for safe preservation. This I wore long time round my neck, so long, indeed, tha^I rore out a number of strings, which I remember I \nd replaced with new ones. I believed it to pos* »8S the power of removing pain, and have bfteu AiWltni mOLO B UBBt |nj«d to tt to ei»e th« looth^ftohA^ Ac. JaaoBay mmuMmm piofoned to ontdo us all in doTotioo to tbo wperior, and would pick up the featheri after aialdnff her oed. These she would distribute among ns^ sayingy ** When the Superior dies, relics will be- fin to fxow scarce, and you had better supply your- •elfos in seasou.** Then she would treat the whole natter in some way to turn it into ridicule. Equally oontradictorr would she appear, when occasionally she would obtain leaye from her Superior to tell her dreams. With a serious fbce, which sometimes im- posed upon all of us, and made us half believe she was in a perfect state of sanctity, she would narrate Id Freooh some unaccountable vision which she said she had enjoyed ; then turning round, would say, ** There are some who do not understand me ; you all oui(ht to be informed." And then she would s«y something totally different in English, which put us to Uie greatest agony for fear of laughing. Some- times &e would say she expected to be Su) erior her- self one of those days, and other things which I have not room to repeat. While I was in the Congregational Nunnery, I had gone to the parish church whenever I was to confess, for although the nuns had a private coufes- sion*room in the building, the boarders were taken in parties through the streets, on different days, by some of the nuns, to confess in the church ; but iu the Black Nunneryi as we had a chapel, and priests attending in the oonfessiouals, we never left the building. Our oonfesrions there as novices were always per- formed in one way, so that it may be sufficient to describe a single case. Those of us who were to con- fess at a particular time, took our places on our knees near the oonfession*boz, and, after having re- peated a number of prayers, &c, prescribed in our book, came up one at a time and Kneeled beude s fine wooden lattioe*wliged to teach ten children gratuitously ; might haye fifteen pence a month, about a quarter of a dollar, for each ten scholars more, and then she was aft Kberty, according to the regulations, to demand aa much as she pleased for the other pupils. The opuraeof instruction as required by the society, em- braced only readinsr, writing, and what was called ciphering, though I think improperly. The only booka used were a snellinGf, l' Instruction de la Jen- nesae, the Catholic New Testament, and 1* Histoire da Canada. When these had been read throuL'h. in regular succession, the children were dismissed as hayinir completed their education. No difficulty is found in making the common French Canadians con* lanft with aooh an amount of inatrootloii aa thia;oa or VASZl XOKX. 25 »• oontrary, il is oftoi found Terr baid indeed to rerail npon them to tend tb^ obfldxen at all. for d^ tay it takes too much of Ine loTO of God mm em to send them toeohooU The teacher stHotly mplied with the requisitione of the locietT in whoeo ^ployment she was, and the Boman Catholic cate« ihism was regularly tauf^ht in the school, as much m choice, as from submission to authority, as she ras a strict Catholic. I had brought with me the ittle bag before mentioned, in which I had so long iept the clippings of the thread left after making a iress for the Superior. Such was my regard for it, tat I continued to wear it constantly round my teck, and to feel the same reverence for its suppos* d virtues as before. I occasionally had the tooth* tche during my stay at St. Denis, and then always ilied on the influence of my little bag. On such sessions I would say—*' By the virtue of this bag lay I be delivered from the tooth-ache !" and I sup« ^osed that when it ceased it was owing to that cause* While engaged in this manner, I became acqudnt- with a man who soon proposed marriage ; and, roung and ignorant of the world as I was, I heard lis offers with favour. On consulting with my riend, she expressed a friendly interest to me, ad« rised me against taking such a step, and especially IS I knew so little about the man, except that a re* )ort was circulated unfavourable to his character. Tnfortunately, I was not wise enough to listen to her ^dvice, and hastily married. In a few weeks I had jcasion to repent of the step I had taken, as the re« )rt proved true— a report which I thought justified, knd indeed required, our separation. After I had ^en in St. Denis about three months, finding myself lus situated, atid not knowing what else to do, I letermined to return to the Convent, and pursue my [ormer intention of becoming a Blnck Nun, could i rain admittance. Knowing the many inquiries tha Superior would make relative to me during my ab« XWWUL M8GL0SiniS8 t8BM^ b«fora iMTing St Denis I agreed with tht lady with whom I Md heen associated as a teacher, (wfien she went to Montreal, which she did Tcry Ire. Sneiitly) to say to the Lady Superior I had heen un. er her protection during my absence, which would satisfy and stop farther inquiry ; as I was sensible, should they know I had been married I should not gjsin admittance. I soon left and returned to Montreal, and, on reaching the city, I Tisited the Seminary, and in anoUier interview with the Superior of it, commu- nicated my wish, and desired her to procure my re- admission as a novice. Little delay occurred. After leaving for a short time, she returned and told me that the Superior of the Convent had con- sented, and I was soon introduced into her presence. She blamed me for my conduct in leavingthe nun- nery, but told me that t ought to be ever frrntcf ul to my guardian angel for taking care of me, unlessi pro- hibited by the Superior ; and this she promised me. The- money usually required for the admission of novices had not been expected from me. I had been admitted the first time without any such requisition ; but now I chose to pay for my re-admission. I knew tiiat the was able to dispense with such a demand as well in this as in the former case, and she knew that I was not in possession of any thing like the sum r«- quired. But I was bent on paying to the Nunnery, and accustomed to receive the doctrine often repeated to me before that time, that when the advantage of the \ m mmnl of th«ir friends I obtained imall under the name of loans, so that altogether I _ soon raised a nomber of pounds, with which I itened to the Nunnery, and deposited a part in the ids of the Superior. She received the money with ^dent ^satisfaction, though she must have known kt I could not have obtaiued it honestly ; and I at once re-admitted as a novice. [Much to mv gratification, not a word fell from the >s of any of my old associates in relation to my ^ceremonious departure, nor my voluotarv return. le Superior's orders, I had not a doubt, had been [plicitly laid down, and they certainly were care« lily obeyed, for I never heard an allusion made to iat subject during my subsequent stay in the Oon- mt, except that^ when alone, the Superior would >metimes say a little about it. There were numbers of young ladies who entered rhile as novices, and became weary or disgusted [ith some thins[s they observed, and remained but short time. One of my cousins, who lived at La« [line, named Beed, spent about a fortnight in the Convent with me. She however, conceived such an itipathy to the priests, that she used expressions rhich offended the Superior. The first day that she attended mass, while at din- |er with u^ in full community, she said before us 11, *^ What a rascal that priest was, to preach against lis best friend I" All stared at such an unusual exclamation, and >me one enquired what she meant. ** I say," she continued, *' he has been preaching gainst him who has given him his bread. Do you ippose that if there were no devil, there would be ny priests F" This bold young novice was immediately dismiss- 1, and in the afternoon we had a long sermon from [he Superior on the subject. It happened that I one day got a leaf of an Bng* i ' ' m ▲WFOL DX80L0BUBSI Ush BiUto wbidh had been brongbt into the ConTeut, I wrapped aroQnd some eewing eilk, purohaeedatil ■tore in the dty. For some reason or other, I de* termined to commit to memory a chapter it contain* ed, which I soon did. It is the only chapti^ 1 6?«i I leamt in the Bible, and I can now repeat it. It ii the second of St. Matthew's gospel. ** Now when Jesns was born at Bethlehem in Judea," &c. It hap. pened that I was observed reading the paper, aud when the nature of it was discovered. I was coo* domned to do penauce for my offence. Gkeat dislike to the Bible was showp by those who oonTcrsed with me about it, aud several have re* marked at me at different times, that if it were uot for that book, Catholics would never be led to re* uonnce their own faith. I have heard passa^res read from the Evaugile, re- lating to the death of Christ ; the conversion of Paul; a few chapters from St. Matthew, and perhaps a few others. The priests would also sometimes take averse or two, and preach from it. I have read St. Peter'i life, bnt only on the book called the ** lives of tlie Saints.** He, I nnderstood, has the keys of heaven and hell, and has founded our church. As for Saiut Paul. I remember, as I was taught to understand it, that ne was once a great persecutor of the Roman Oatholies, until he became convicted, and confessed to one of the father con/essarSy I don't know wLicii. For who can expect to be f ory^iven, who does not be- come a Catholic, and confess? CHAPTER V. Beeeived C^nflnnation— Painful Feelings--Spedmens of Instructions received on the Subject. Thx day on which I received Confirmation was a distressing one to me. I belieted the doctrine of the Bonian Catholics, and according to them I was guil« tj of three mortal sins; conoealinff something st ponfessioni saoriiegei in patting th# Dodjof Qhru^ OV KABIA XOldL 39 thesaorameut atmy feet, and brreoeiyiDg it while it in a state of grace ! and now I had been led into il those siusin coDsequencej^l my marriage, which [never had acknowledged, as it woald have cat me ^ from being admitted as a nnn. On the day, therefore, when I went to the ohuroh be confirmed with a number of others, I suffered [tremely from the reproaches of my conscience. I lew, at least I beliered, as I had been told, that a )rsou who had been anointed with the holy oil of >nfirmation on the forehead, and dving in the state which I was, would go down to hell, and, in the lace where the oil had been rubbed, the names of ly sins would blaze out of mj forehead; these fould be a sifi[n by which the devils would know me, id would tormeut me the worse for them. I was liiikiug of all this, while I was sitting in the pew, kiting to receive the oil. I felt however some eon- Nation, as I often did afterwards, when my tins ime to my mind : and this consolation I derived >m another doctrine of the church, viz., tiiat a his* >p could absolve me from all these sins any minute )f ore my death ; and I intended to confess them bXL a bishop before leaving the world. At length the moment for administering of the ** sacrament'* arriv* 1, and a bell was rung. Those who had come to confirmed had brought tickets from their confes- >rs, and those were thrown into a hat, and earned md by a priest, who in turn handed each to a fshop, by which he learned the name of each of as, id applied a little of the oil to the foreheads. This [as immediately rubbed off by a priett wi^ a bit of oth quite roughly. I went home with some qualms of oonsdenoe, and ften thought with dread of the following tale, wMch have heard told, to illustrate the sinf ulnets of oon* n:^ i:ke mine. A priest was onoe traTelUng. when Just as he Wat Lssing by a hoQM^ hit hone fell on&ia knees, and M AWML imKIBiCMillMS would not ziM. His rider ditmomited and went in, to laem the cause of so extraordinary an ooourrence. He found there a woman netr death, to whom i priest was trying to admiuiBter the sacrament, but without success; for every time she attempted to ■wallow it, it was thrown back out of her mouth into the ohalice. He perceived it was owing to uncon. lessed sin, and tooK awav the holy wafer from her: ou which his horse rose from his kneei, atid he pur- sued his journey. X often remembered also that I had been told, that we shall have as many devils biting us, if we go to hell, as we have unoonf eased siuson our consciences. I was required to devote myself for about a year to the study of the prayers and practice of the cere* monies necessary on the reception of a nun. This I found a very tedious duty ; but as I was released iu a great degree from the daily labours usually dc manded of novices, I felt little disposition to complain. CHAPTER VI. XlsiUng the veil— Interview afterwards with the Superior- Surprise and horror at the disdosures—Kesolution to submit. X WAB introdnced into the Superior's room on the ereninff preceding the dajr on which I was to take the veil, to have an interview with the bishoa The Superior was present, and the interview lastea about baft an hour. Tlie bishop ou this as on other occa- sions appeared to be habitually rou^h in his man- ners. His address was by no means prepossessiiig. Bef<|re I took the veil, I was ornamented for the oeiemony, and was clothed in a dress belonging to fbe Convent, which was used on such occasions; and ^aoed not far from the altar in the chapel, in the view of a number of spectators, who had assembled, bk number, perhi^s about forty. Taking the veil ii an affair wbidi ooours so freqnentlv in Montresl^ liial it baa k«v ^^Med to be regacdei ti nnorelty; or KASU Mon. n ^nd, ftlthongh notioa had been giTen in the Vreneh parish ohuroh at usual, onlv a small audienoe as* imbled as I have mentioned. Being well prepared with a long tndninfr/ and sequent rehearsals, for what I was to perform, I itood waiting in my large flowing dress for the ap« learance of the bishop. He soon presented himself, [nteruig by a door behind the altar ; I then threw lyself at his feet, and asked him to confer npon me le veil. He expressed his consent ; and then turn* iifi to the Superior, I threw myself prostrate at her bet, according to my instructions, repeating what I iave before done at rehearsals, and made a moTe- lent as if to kiss her feet. This she prevented, or jpeared to prevent, catching me by a sudden mo« ion of her hand, and granted my request. I then [netiled before the Holy Sacrament, that is a large bund wafer held by the Bishop between hit fore- [n(?er and thumb, and made my vows. This wafer I had been taught to regard with the [tmost veneration as the real body of Jesus Ohristi le presence of which made the vows that weri nt» ^red before it binding in the most solemn mannar. After taking the vows, I proceeded to arasall krtmeut behind the altar, accompanied by font ins, where there was a cofin prepared witii my m's name engraved upon it : *• Saint Eustacb." My companions lifted it by four handles attached it, while I threw off my dress, and pot on that of Dun of SoBur Bourgeoise ; and then we aUretumad the chapel. I proceeded first, and was followed four nuns, the Bishop naming a number of world- pleasures in rapid succession, in reply to whioh I rapidly repeated, ** Je renounce, fe renouueOi jo Qounce,"— >I renounce, I renounce, l renounee. [The coffin was then placed in front of the altar, I advanced to plaoe mvself in it This muttkn to be d^sitedi after the oeremottf I In ano«t« fa" <■• m It ▲WVOL P UOLOBUIiBi hoaM, to be preserred until my death, when it wai (o reoeiTe my corpse. There were refleotiont #hioh I naturally made at that time, bat I stepped in. ex- tended myself, and lay still. A pillow had been Slaeed at the head of the coffin, to support mj head I a comfortable position. A lar^i^e thick black cloth was then spread over mo, and the chanting of Latin hymns immediately commenced. My thoughts were not the most pleasing during the time I lay in that eilnation. The pall, or Drap Mortel, as the cloth is called, had a strong smell of iiiceuse, which was al- wars disagreeable to me, and then proved almost •niiocating. I recollected the story of the novice, who, in taking the veil, lay down in her coffin like me, and was covered in the same manner, but on the removal of the covering was found dead. When I was uncovered, I rose, stepped ont of my coffin, and kneeled. ^ Other ceremonies then follow* ed, of no particular interest ; after which the musio commenced, and here the whole was finished. I then proceeded from the chapel, and returned to the Su- perior's room, followed by the other nuns, who walk- ed two bv two, in their customary manner, with fheir hands folded on their breasts, and tb^ir eyes oast down upon the floor. The nun who was to be my companion in future, then walked at the end of the procession. On reaching the Saperior^i door liiey all left me, and I entered alone, and fonnd her with the Bishop and two Priests. The Superior now informed me that having taken the black veil, it only remained that I should swear the three oaths customary on becoming a nun ; and that some explanation would be necessary from her. I was now, ane told me, to have access to every part of the edifice, even to the cellar, where two of the sisters were imprisoned for causes which she did not mention. I must be informed that one of my great duties was to obey the priests in all thinga ; and thii I aoom leaniti to my utter astonishment and hoixori df xatuHOMt. IS was k> life in the praoiioe of criminal interoonne with them. I expressed some of the feelings whioh this announcement excited in me, which came upon me like a flash of lightning ; but the onlj e£fect was to set her arguing with me, in favonr of the crimcL representing it as a virtue acceptable to Gh>d, ana honourable to me. The priests, she said, were not situated like other men, being forbidden to marry ; while they lived secluded, laborious, and self-denv« ing lives for our salvation. They might, indeed, be considered our saviours, as without their swvioejra I could not obtain pardon of sin, and must go !• KmU| I Now it was our solemn duty, on withdrawinf fqjK the world, to consecrate our lives to religion, to prao* tioe every species of self-denial. We could not be too humble, nor mortify our feelings tdo far ; this Iwas to be done by opposing; them, and acting eon- [trary to them ; and what she proposed was, there* fore, pleasing in the sight of God. I now felt how Foolish I had been to place myself in the power of inch persons as were around me. ^ From what she said, I could draw no other oonclu* uous but that I was reauired to act like the most tbapdoned of beings, ana that all my future asso- ciations were habitually guilty of the most heinous md detestable crimes. When I repeated my ex- pressions of surprise and horror, she told me thari luoh feelings were very common at first, and that lany other nuns had expressed themselves as I did, rho had long since changed their minds. She even ud, that on her entrance into the nunnery, she had )ltlikeme. Doubts, she declared, were among our greatest iMnies. They would lead us to question every point ' duty, and induce us to waver at every step. They ose only from remaining imperfections, and w«ra Iways evidences of sin. Our only way was to dis« UBS them immediately, repent and confess them, nests, she insisted, eoold not iin. It was athin|t 174 f u kWftfL l>lM&0fOSlkl impossiblt. ETerythiog that they did, and wished, WM of eouie right. She hoped I would eee the feeeonahleDeet and duty of the oaths I was then to take, and be f aithfol to them. She gaTe me another pieoe of informatioO| which excited other feelings in me, soaroely less dread! qI. Infants were sometimes bom in the OonTent, but they were always baptised, and immediately Strang. led. This secured tneir CTerlastinff happiness ; for the baptism purifies them from all sinfulness, and beipf sent out of the world before they had time to dp anythiofi^ wron;?, they were at once admitted into heaTen. How happy, she exclaimed, are those who aecure immortal happinese to such little beings! Their souls would thank those who kill their bodies, if they had it in their power. Into what a place, and amonp^ what society, had I been admitted. How different did a couTent now appear from what I supposed it to be. The holy women I had always fancied the nuns to be, the venerable Lftdy Superior, what are they F And the priests of the Seminary adjoining, (some of whom, indeed, I had reason to think were base and profli. I(ate men,) what were they all F I now learned that ^ey were often admitted into the nunnery, and tl. lowed to indulge in the greatest crimes, which they and others call Tirtues. And hsTing listened for some time to the Superior alone, a number of the nuns were admittea, and took a free part in the conversation. They concur- red in eTerytbing which she told me, and repeated, without any signs of shame or compunction, thiugi which crimmated themseWes. I must acknowledge i the truth, and declare that all this had an effect upon my mind. I questioned whether I might oot be in the wrong, and felt as if their reasoning migtt liava some iust foundation, I bad been eeTm yean under the tuition of Oatholics, and was igno^j ant of the Scriptures, and unaoeustomed lu tte 09 usxu xoxrx. dMjf example, aud ounTenaticm of ProteaUnU ; hud not beard any appeal to the Bible as authoritj. bat had been taught, both by preoept and example, to reoeife as truth eTerythinff said by the priests. I had not heard their authoritr questioned, noranjr* thing said of any other standard of faith but their declarations. I had long been familiar with the oor- Irupt and licentious exDreMions which some of them use at confessions, ana belieTed that other women were also. I had no standard of duty to refer to, and no judgment of my own which I knew how to use, |or thought of using. AH around me insisted that my doubts proTed only ly own ignorance aud sinfulness ; that they knew >y experience that they would soon giTe plaoe to true knowledge, and an advance in religion ; and I [elt something like indecision. Still there was so much that disgusted me in the liscoTory I had now made, of the debased characters round me, that I would most gladly have escanad "om the nunnery, and never returned. But tnat ras a thing not to be thought of. I was in their )Ower, and this I deeply felt, while I thought there ras not one among the whole number of uuui to rhom I could look for kindness. There was one, lowever, who began to speak to me at length in a one that gained something of my confidence, — ^the iun whom I have mentioned before as distinguished ^y her oddity, Jane Bi|y, who made us so much ^nusement when I was a novice. Although, at I fave remarked, there was nothing in her face, form, r manners, to give me any pleasure, she addreeaed le with apparent friendlinees ; and while she seem* ~ to concur with some things spoken by them, took opportunity to whispcnr a few words in my ear, heard by them, intimating that I had better oom- with everything the Superior desired, if I would live mv life. I was somewhat alarmed before^ but now Mcame mnoh noM ao^ and daftsraiinad ta ,/iS I'' mi A AMWfTL DtSCtUMindBfl iiAu.ke no farther reftistsDoe. The Soperior then made me repeat the three oathi; and, wnen I had sworn them,l was shown into one of the oommauity-rooms, and remained some time with the nans, wno were released from their usual employments, and enjoying a reereation day, on account of the admission of a new sister. My feelings during the remainder of the day I shidl not attempt to describe, but pass on to mention the ceremonies that took place at dinner. lliis description may gi?e an idea ox the manner in which we always took our meals, although there weresoifie points in which the breakfast and supper were different At eleven o'clock the bell rang for dinner, and the nnns all took their places in a double row, in the same order as that m which they left the chapel in the morning, except that my companion and myself were stationed at the head of the line. Standing thus lor a moment, withonr hands placed one on the other OTer the breast, and hidden in our large cuffs, with onr heads bent forward, and eyes fixed on the floor, an old nun, who stood at the door, clapped her hands as a signal for vs to proceed ; and the proces- rion moTed on, while we all commenced the repetition of litanies* We walked on in this order, repeating all the way until we reached the door of the dining- room, where we were divided into two lines ; those on the right passing down the side of the long table. and those on the left the other, till all were in ; and eadi stopped in her place. The plates were all ar- ranged, each with a knife, fork, and spoon, rolled up in a napkin, and tied round with a linen band mark- ed with the owner's name* My own plate, knife, fte., were prepared like the rest : and on the band around them I found my new name written— '* Saint Eustace.'' There we stood till ill had concluded the litany, when the old nun, who had taken her place at the , head the orott street. By this passage the phTsi- cian sometimes finds his way to the sick-room, when he comes later than usual. He rings the hell at the gate, which I was told had a concealed pull, kuowo only to him and the priests, proceeds up stairs and through the passage, rapping three times at the door of the sick-room, whicn is opened hy a nun in at- tendance, after she has given one rap in reply. When he has visited his patients and prescribed for them, he returns by the same way. 6th. Next beyond the sick-room, is a large unoc- cupied apartment, half divided by two partial parti- tions, which leave an open space in the middle. Here some of the old nuns commonly meet in the day time. 6th. A door from this apartment opens into ano- ther, not appropriated to any peculiar use, but con- taining a table, where medicines are sometimes pre- pared by an old nun, who is usually found there. Pikssing through this room, you enter a passage, with doors on its four sides ; that on the left, which is kept fastened on the inside, leads to the staircase and gate ; and that in front to the private sick- rooms, soon to be described. 7th. That on the riizht leads to another, appro- priated to nuns suffering with the most loathsome disease. There was usually a number of straw mat- tresses in that room, as I well know, having helped to carry them in, after the yard-man had filled them. A door beyond enters into a store-room, which ex- tends also beyond this apartment. On the right, another door opens into another passage, crossing which, vou enter by a door. 8th. A room with bed and screen in one comer, on which nuns were laid to be examined, before their introduction into the sick-room last mentioned. Another door, opposite the former, opens into a psi* sage, in which is a staircase leading down. 9th. Beyond this is a spare room, sometimes used to store applesi boxes of different iningSifto. OV XABUlIOinL 40 lOih. Betuminf^ now to the paMa^ft which opeut on one side updn the stairs to the ffate, we enter the only remaining door, which leads into an apartment usually occupiec'i hy some of the old nuns, and Ire* fluently by the Superior. nth and 12th. Boyond this are two more siclc- rooms, in one of which those nuns stay who are wait- ing their necouchmeut, and in the other those who have passed it. 13th. The next is a small sitting-room, where a priest waits to ba}>tize the infants previous to their murder. A ]>a8sa!?e leads from this room on the left, by the doors of two succeeding apartments, neither of which have I ever entered. 14th. The first of them is the ** holy retreat/' or room occupied by the priests, while suffering the penalty of their licentiousness. 15th. The other is a sitting-room, to which thej have access. Beyond these, the passage leads to two rooms, containing closets for the storage of various articles ; and two others, where persons are receired who come on business. The public hospitals succeed, and extend a con* siderable distance— I believe, to the extremity of the I building. By a public entrance in that part, priests I often come into the Nunnery ; and I have often seen some of them thereabouts, who must have entered I that way. Indeed, pri^^sts often get into the ** holy retreat'* without exposing themselves in the view of [persons in the other parts of the Convent, and have iDeen first known to be there, by the yard-nuns being jsent to the Seminary for their clothes. The Congreirational Nunnery was founded bj a |nun, called Sister Bourgeoise. She taught a school in Montreal, and left property for the foundation of Convent. Her body is buried, and her heart is tept under the Nunnery in an iron chest, which has )een shown to me, with the assurance that it conti* mes in perfect preservation, although she has been 174 x> * r CO AWVCfli BlflCQjOStJBSl dead more than one hundred and fifty years. In the ohapel is the following inscription : " Soeor Bour- ^eoise, londatrioe du Convent.'* (Sister Boargeoise, Founder of the Convent.) Kothiug was more common than for the Superior to step hastily into our community-room, while num- bers of us were assembled there, and hastily commu* nioate her wishes in words like these :— "Here are the parents of sucb a novice; come with me, and bear me out in this story." She would then mention the outlines of a tissue of falsehoods she had just invented, that we might be prepared to fabricate circumstaQces, and throw in whatever else might favour the deception. This was justified and indeed most highly commanded, by the system of faith by which we are instructed. It was a common remark always at the initiation of a new nun into the Black nun department, that is, to receive the black veil, that the introduction of another novice into the convent as a veiled nun, al- ways caused the introduction of a veiled nun into heaven as a saint, which was on account of the sin- gular disappearance of some of the older nuns always at the entrance of new ones. To witness the scenes which often occurred be- tween us and strangers would have struck a person* most powerfully, if he had known how truth was set at nought. The Superior, with a serious and digni- fied air, and a pleasant voice and aspect, would com- mence a recital of things most favourable to the character of the absent novice, representing her equally fond of her situation, and beloved by the otber mmates. The tale told by the Superior, what- ever it was, however unheard before might have been any of her statements, was then attested by us, who in every way we could think of, endeavoured to oonfirm her declarations beyond the readi of doubt. Sometimes the Superior would entrust thomaaage- mant of snob a oaae to aom« of tbr aiiii% wbgH^ to ov msu vomc «1 habitaate us to the practice in which she wasao highly aooompliahed, or to relieve heraelf of what woald have been a serious burden to most other persons, or to ascertain whether she oould depend upon us, or all together, I cannot tell. X)f ten, how- ever, have I seen her throw open a door, and say, in a hurried manner, ** Who can tell the best story P" One point, on which we have received frequent and particular instructions was, the nature of false- hoods. On this subject I have heard many a speech, I had almost said many a sermon ; and I was led to believe that it was one of great importauoe, one on which it was a duty to be well informed, as well as to act. ** What!" exclaimed a priest one day— «* what, a nun of your age, and not know the difference be- tween a wicked and a religious lie !" He then went on, as had been done many times previously in my hearing, to show the essential dif- ference between the two different kinds of falsehoods* A lie told merely for the injury of another, for our own interest alone, or for no object at all, he painted as a sin worthy of penance.— But a lie told for the good of the church or convent, was meritorious, and of course the telling of it a duty. And of this class of lies there were many varieties and shades. This doctrine has been inculcated on me and my eompa- Dions in the nunnery, more times than I can enu- merate ; and to say that it was generally received, would be to tell part of the truth. We often saw the practice of it, and were frequently made to take part m it. Whenever anything which the Superior thought important, could be most conveniently ac- complished by falsehood, she resorted to it withont scruple. There was a class of cases, in which she more fra» qwently relied on deception than any other. The friends of novices frequently applied at th^ uouvent to see them, or at least to inquire alter their welfare. It was eommon for them to be politely la* ^."lltffll.Wf "'■ 62 ▲wvoL msoz^MnndKi fused an interview, on some aooonut or other, gene- xally a mere pretext ; and then the Superior generally sought to make as favourable an impression as pos- sible on the visitors. Sometimes she would make u]) a story on the spot, and tell the strangers ; requiring some of us to confirm it in the most convincing way we could. At other times she would prefer to make over to us the task of deceiving, and we were commended iu proportion to our ingenuity and success. ^ Some nun usually showed her submission, by im- mediately stepping forward. She would then add, perhaps, that the parents of such a novice, whom she named, were iu waiting, and it was necessary that they should be told such and such things. To Serform so difficult a task well, was considered a ifficult duty, and it was one of the most certain ways to gain the favour of the Superior. Whoever volunteered to make a story on the spot, was sent immediately to tell it, and the other nuns present were hurried off with her under strict injunctions to uphold her in everything she might state. The Su- perior, as there was every reason to believe, on all such occasions, when she did not herself appear, hastened to the apartment adjoining that in which the nuns were goiug, there to listen through the thin partition, to hear whether all performed their parts aright. It was not uncommon for her to go rather further, when she wanted to ^ive such explanations as she could have desired. She would then enter abruptly, and ask, *^ Who can tell a good story this morning P" and hurry us off without a moment's de- lay, to do our best at a venture, without waiting for instructions. It would be curious, could a 8tranp:6r from the ** wicked world" outside the Convent, wit- ness such a scene. One of the nuns, who felt iu a favourable humour to undertake the proposed task, would step promptly forward, and signify her readi- ness in the usual waj» by a knowing wink of out wjtf an4a iUgfat Um of ttia ' us, we we ■ 'wmfMf W lCiSI4 KONX* M << Well, go and do tho best you oan/' the Soperior would sa^ : ** and all the rest of you mind and ewear to it." The latter nart of the order, at least, was id« ways performed ; for in every case, all the nuns preseut appeared as nnanimous witnesses of everv* thiug tiiat was uttered by the spokeswoman of the day. We were oonstantlv hearing it repeated, that we must never a^ain look upou ourselyes as our own ;' but must remember, that we were solely and irreTo* cably devoted to God. Whatever was required of us, we were called upon to yield under the most so- lemn considerations. I cannot speak on every par* ticular with equal freedom : but I wish my readers clearly to uuccfstaud the condition in which we were placed, and the means used to reduce ui to what we had to submit to. Not only were Wf re* quired to perform the several tasks imposed npon us at work, prayers, and penances^ under the idea that we were performing solemn duties to our Maker, but everything else wti«< H was required of us, we were constantly told, w>t >« nethins: indispensable in bis si^ht. The priests, v.^ admitted, were the servants of God, especially appointed by his authoritv, to teach us our duty, to absolve us from sin, and lead us to heaven. Without their assistance, we had al- lowed we could never enjoy the favour of God ; un- less they administered the sacrament to us, we could not enjoy everlasting happiness. Having consented to acknowledge all this, we had no objection to urge against admitting: any other demand thatfaiigbtbe made for or by them. If we thought an act ever so criminal, the Superior would tell us that the priests acted under the direct sanction of Gbd, andeou^ not sin. Of course, then, it could not be wrong to comnly with any of their requests, beoanse they wuld not demand anything but what was right Oi the contrary, to refuse to do anything they asked would necessarily be sinfoL Sudh doctiioes admit- ^ ▲WfOL DX8OE1OBUSI8 U8f and snoh praotfoM performed, it will not aeem wonderful when I mention that we often felt lome* thing of their preposterons character. Sometimes we took pleasure in ridiouling some of the favourite themes of our teachers ; and I recollect one suhject particularly, which at one period afforded us repeated merriment. It may seem irreverent in me to give the account, but I do it to show how things of a solemn nature were sometimes treated in the convent, by women bearing the title of saints. A Canadian novice, who spoke very broken English, otie day remarked that she was performing some duty **for the God." This peculiar expression had something ridiculous to the ears of some of us ; and it was soon repeated again and again, in application to various ceremonies which we had to perform. Mad Jane Bay seized upon it with avidity, and with her aid it soon took the place of a by- word in con- versation, so that we were constantly reminding each other that we were doing this thing and that thiu^. how trifling and unmeaning soever, *| for the QodJ Nor did we stop here ; when the Superior called upon us to bear witness to one of her religious lies, or to fabricate the most spurious one the time would ad- mit ; to save her the trouble, we were Bure to be re- minded, on our way to the stranger's room, that we were doing it ** for the God." And so it was when other things were mentioned— everything which be- longed to our condition was spoken of in somewhat similar terms. I have hardly detained the reader long enough on this subject to give him a just impression of the itiesslaid on confession. It is one of the great points to which our attention was constantly direct- ed. We were directed to keep a strict and constant watch over out thoughts ; to have continually before our minds the rules of the convent, to compare the one with the other, remember eveijr devotion, and tell aUj oTen the smallest, at oonf essioui either to the CW UAMU xomL 9i Superior or to the prieai. My mind was thu kapl in a contiQual •tote of activity, whioh prored Tery wearisome ; and it required the coDttont exertion of our teachers to keep us up to the practice they in- culcated, • . . Another tale recurs to me, of those which wer» frequently told us, to make us feel the importance of unreserved confession. A nun of our convent, who had hidden some nn from her confessor, died suddenly, and without any one to confess her. Her sisters assembled to pray for the peace of her boul, when she appeared, ana informed them that it would be of no use, but ra- ther troublesome to her, as her pardon was impos- sible. The doctrine is, that prayers made for soula guilty of un confessed sin, do but sink them deeper in hell; and this is the reason I have heard given for not pray in gf for Protestants, The authority of the priests in everything, and the enormity of every act which opposes it, were al- so impressed upon our minds, in various ways, by our teachers. A " Father" told us the following story one day at catechism. A man once died who had failed to pay some money which the priest had asked of him ; he was condemned to be burnt in purgatory until be should pay it, but had permission to come back to this world, and take a human body to work in. He made his appearance, therefore, again on earth, and hired himself to a rich man as a labourer. He worked all day, with the fire working in him, unseen by other people ; but while he was in bed that night, m cirl in an adjoining room, perceiving the smSl of brimstone, looked through a crack in the wall, and saw him covered with flames. She informed bit master, who questioned him the nextmoming, and found that his hired man was secretly sdlferingthA pains of purgatory, for neglecting to pay a benaiii sum of money to tne priest. He, therefore* fnndahed M AWFUL DXSOLOIUnt him with fhe amonnt due ; it was paid, aud the son Tant went off immediately to heaTen. The priest oannot forgive any debt due unto him, beoaose it ia the Lord's estate. While at confession, I was nr^red to hide no- thing from the priests, and have been told by them, that they already knew what was in my heart, but would not tell, be cnuse it necessary for mu to con- fess it. I really believed that the priests were ac- quainted with my thoughts ; and often stood in awe of them. They often told me, they had power to strike me dead at any moment. CHAPTER IX. Ntms with similar names— Squaw mina— Fipst visit to the cellar— Description of it— Shocking discovvry there— Superior's instructions— Private signal of the priests- Books used in the Nunnery— Opinions expressed of the Bible — Specimens of what I know of the Scriptures. I lOTTND that I had several namesakes amon^ the nnns, for there were two others who had already bomo away my new name. Saint Eustace. This was not a solitary case, for there were five Saint Marys, and three Baiut Monros. besides two novices of that name. Of my namesakes, I have little to say, for they resembled most nuns; bein^ so much cut off from intercourse with me andother sisters, that I never saw anything in them, nor learnt auy- thinsr about them, worth nientioninfif. Several of my new companions were squaws, who had taken the veil at different times.^ They were from some of the Indian settlements in the country but were not distiufi^uishable by anystriking habits of diaracter from other nuns, and were f;^enerally not very different in their appearance when in their nanal dress, and enfi^aged in their customary occu- pationa. It was evident they were treated with much Kindness and lenity by the Superior and the old nnns ; and this I discovered was done in order to or luai^ xoiix* 67 render them at well oontented and happy in thilr sitaations as possible: and should have atferibnted the motives for this partiality to their wishing, that they mi^ht not inflaence others to keep awaj, had I net known they were, like ourselves, nnable to exert such an influence. And therefore, I could not satis- fy my own mind why this difference was made. Many of the Indians were remarkably devoted to the priests, believing everythinfi^ they were tanght; and as it is represented to be not only a high honour, but a real adyatitage to a family, to have one of its members become a nun, Indian parents will often pay larp:e sums of money for the admission of their daughters into a convent. The father of one of the squaws, I was told, paid to the Superior nearly her weight in silver on her reception, although he was oblip:ed to sell nearly all his property to raise the money. This he did voluntarily, because he thought himself overpaid by having the advantage of her prayers, self-sacrifices, &c., for himself and the re« maiuder c>f his family. The squaws sometimes serv- ed to amuse us ; for when we were partially dispirit- ed or );lo( my, the Superior would occasionally send them to dress themselves in their Indian garments, which usually excited us to merriment. Among the equaw runs whom I particularly re- member, was one of the Saint Hypolites, not the one who fia:ured in a dreadful scene, described in another part of this narrative, but a woman of a far mora mild and humane character. Three or four days after my reception, the Superior sent me into the cellar for coals ; and after she had piyen me directions, I proceeded down a staircase with a lamp in my hand. I soon found myself on the bare earth in a spacious place, so dark ttiat I could not at once distinguish its form or «ie, but I observed that it had very solid stone walls, and waa arched overhead, at no great elevation. Following my directions, I proceeded onwards from tha loot of * 58 AWFUL DZBQLOBUBM th« italn, where appeared to be one end of the cel- lar. After walking about fifteen paoet, I passed three email doora, on the right, faatened with large iron bolta on the outaide, pushed into posts of stone work, and each having a small opening aboye, cover- ed with a fine grating, aecured by a amaller bolt. On my left were three aimilar doora, reaembliug these, and placed opposite them. Beyond these, the space became broader ; the doors evidently closed small compartments, projecting from the outer wall of the cellar. I soon stepped upon a wooden floor, on which were heapa of wool, coarse linen, and other articles, apparently deposit- ed there for occasional use. I soon crossed the floor, and found the bare earth again under my feet. A little further on, I iow\d the cellar again con- tracted in size by a row of closets, or smaller com- partments, projecting on each side. These were' closed by doors of a different description from the first, having a simple fastening, and no opening fiirou^h them. Just beyond, on the left side, I passed a staircase leading up, and then three doors, much resembling those first described, standing opposite three more, on the other side of the cellar. Having passed these, I found the cellar enlarged as before, and hsre the earth appeared as if mixed with some whitish suh- atance, which attracted my attention. Aa I proceeded, I found the whiteness increase, until the surface looked almost like snow, and in a abort time I observed before me, a hole dug so deep into the earth that I could perceive no bottom. I atopped to observe it— it waa circular, twelve or per- hapa fifteen feet across, in the middle of the cellar, and unprotected by any kind of curb, ao that one mifrht eaaily have walked into it in the dark. The white anbatance which I have obaerved, was spread all over the aurfaee around it ; and lay in the qnantitiea on all aidea, that it aeemed as if a great ov uaxul konk. <9 deal o( it mnit haTO been thro wn Into tli« hohb II immediately occurred to me that the white enbitanee was lime, and that was the place where the infanta were buried, after being murdered, aa the Superior had informed me. I knew that lime ia often need by Boman Catholioa in burning places ; and in that way I acoounted for its being scattered about the spot in such quantities. This was a shocking thought to me ; but I can hardly tell how it affected me, as I had already been prepared to expect dreadful things in the Convent| and had undergone trials which prevented me from feeling as I should formerly have done in similar cir- oamstances. I passed the spot, therefore, with dreadful thonghti^ it is true, about the little corpses which mi({ht be in that secret burying place, but with recollections alao of the declarations which I had heard, about the fa* vour done their souls in sending them direct to hea* ven, and the necessary yirtue accompanying all the actions of the priests. Whether I noticed them or not at the time, there is a window or two on each side nearly against the hole, in at which are sometimes thrown arUdei brought to them from without, for the use of the Convent. Through the window on my right, whioh opens into the yard, towards the cross street, lime ie received from carts ; I then saw a large heap of it near the place. Passing the hole, I came to a spot where was ano- ther projection on each side, with three cells like those I first described. Beyond them, in another broad part of the cellar, were heaps ox yegetablea. and other things, on the right ; and on the left, I found the charcoal I was in search of. Thie wae placed in a heap against the wall, as I might then ba^e obsenred, near a email high window, uka the rest, at which it is thrown in. Beyond thie spot^ at a distance, the cellar terminated. 60 ▲WVUL I>IKMSmi8 The top, quite to that point, is arohed OTerheadi thoagh at different heights, for the earth on the bot- tom IS uneven, and in some places several feet higher than in others. Not hkiog to be alone in so spacious and gloomy a part of the Oonvent, especially after the discoTery I had made, I hasteued to fill my basket with coal, and to return. Here then I was in a place which I had consider- ed as the nearest imitation of heaven to be found ou earth, amongst a society where deeds were constant- ly perpetrated, which I had believed to be most cri- minal, and had now found the place in which harm- less infants were unfeelingly thrown out of sight, after being murdered. And yet, such is the power of instruction and ex- ample, although not satisfied, as many around me seemed to be, that this was all righteous and proper, I sometimes was half inclined to believe it, for the priests could do no sin, and this was done by priests. Among the first instructions I received from the Superior, were such as prepared me to admit priests into the nunnery, from the street, at irregular hours. It is no secret that priests enter and go out ; but if they were to be watched by any person in St. Paul's street all day long, no irregularity might be suspect- ed ; and they might be supposed to visit the Cunvcut for the performance of religious ceremoniea merely. But if a person y^ere near the gate about midni^iht, he might sometimes form a difforent opinion ; for when a stray priest is shut out of the Seminary, or is otherwise put in the need of seeking a lodgin^% he is always sure of being admitted into the Black Nuu- nery. JN'obody but a priest can ever ring the bell at the sick-room door ; much less can any but a priest gain admittance. The pull of the bell is entirely concealed, son^where on the outside of the gate,! have been told. He makes himself known as a priest by a peculiar -* Ot XILBU uosnL 61 kind of hiding fiouud, luaJe by the tou^ne agaiuitt the teeth while they are kept closed and the lips opeu. The nun within, who delays to opeu the door until informed what kind of an applicant is there, imme- diately recognises the signal, and replies with two iuarticulate sounds, such as are often used instead of yes, with the mouth closed. The Superior seemed to consider this part of my instructious quite important, and taught me the sig* nals. I had often occasion to use them ; I have been repeatedly called to the door, in the night, while watching in the sick-room ; and on reaching itj heard the short hissing sound I have mentioned ; then, ao« cording to my standing orders, unfastened the door, admitted a priest, who was at liberty to go where ho pleased. I will name M. Bierze, from St. Denis. The books used in the uunneryj at least such as I recollect of them, were the foUowmg. Most of these are lecture books, or such as are used by the daily readers, while we were at work and meals. These were all furnished by the Superior, ou6 of her li« brary, to which we neyer had access. She was in- formed when we had done with the book, and then exchanged it for another, as she pleased to select. La Miroir du Chretien (Christian Mirror,) History of Borne, History of the Church, Life of Soeur Bour« geoise, (the founder of the Couveut,) in two volumes, L'Ange Couducteur, (the Guardian Aiigel,) L'Ange Chretien, (the Christian Angel,^ Les Vies des Saints, (Lives of the Saints,) in several volumes, DialogueS| a volume consisting of conversations between aPco* testant Doctor, called Dr. D., and a Catholic gentle- man, on the articles of faith, in which, after much ingenious reasoning, the former was confuted ; one large book, the name of which I have forgotten, oo- copied us nine or ten months at our lectures, nisht and morning, L'Instrnction de la Jeunesse, (the In- struction of Youth,) oontaining much about Oon« Tents, and the edueatioii ol persons in the world. %•=% t:'«KJ «3 ▲WFTTL DtMILOStTftSfl with a great deal on oonfessinns, &o. Ezamen de U OoQBoienoe (Examination of Oonsoieuoe,) is a book frequently used. I may bere remark, that I never saw a Bible in the Oonyent from the day I entered as a noyice, until that on which I effected my escape. The Catholic New Testament, commonly called the Evangile, was read to us about three or four times a year. The Superior directed the reader what passage to select; but we never had it in our hands to read when we pleased. I often heard the Protestant Bible spoken of, in bitter terms, as a most dangerous book, and one which never ought to beiu the hands of common people. CHAPTER X. Hanu&cture of bread and wax candles, carried on in the Convent — Superstitions^iScapulai ies — Virgin Mairs Pincushion— Her House—Tlie Bishop's power over fire —My instructions to Novices— Jane Bay— Vacillation of feelings. Labqb quantities of bread are made in the Black Nunnery everv week ; for, besides what is ueces* saryto feed the nuns, many of the poor are sup- nlied. When a priest wishes to give a loaf of bread to a poor person, he gives him an order, which is presented at the Convent. The making of bread is, therefore, one of the most laborious employments, in the institution. The manufacture of wax candles was another im- portant branch of business in the nunnery. It was carried on in a small room, on the first floor, thence called the ciergerie, or wax room, cierge being the French word for wax. I was sometimes sent to read the daily lecture and catechism to the nuns em* ployed there, but found it a very unpleasant task, as the smell rising from the melted wax gave me a sickness at the stomach* The employment was con- sidttod as rather nniiealthyy and tiioso wtvi assign- ct KABU uotau el ed to it who hfld the strongest eoDstitutions. The nuns who were more employed in that room were Saint Maria, Saint Catherine, Saint Charlotte* Saint Hyacinthe, Saint Hypolite, and others. But with tbeBe, as with other persons in the Convent, I was never allowed to speaK, except under ciroumstanoes before mentioned. I was sent to read, and was not sllowed even to answer the most trivial question, if one were asked me. Should a nun say, '* What o'clock is it ?" I neyer should have dared to reply, but was required to report her to the Superior. Much stress was laid on the sainte scapulairef or holy scapulary. This is a small band of doth or silk, formed and wrought in a particular manner, to be tied around the neck, by two strings, fastened U) the ends. I have made many of them ; having been^ lometimes set to make them in the Convent. Ozkj one side is worked a kind of double cross, (thus. XX,) and on the other, I. H. S., the meaning of which I do not exactly know. Such a band is called a scapulary, and many miracles are attributed to its power. Cbildreu on first receiving the oommn- niou are often presented with scapularies, which they are taught to regard with great reverence. We were told of the wonders effected by their means, ^ in the addresses that were made to us, by priests, at catechism or lectures. I will repeat one or two of the stories which occur to me. A Boman Catholic servant woman, who had con* cealed some of her sins at confession, acted s^^ hy- pocritical a part as to make her mistress believp her a devotee, or strict observer of her duty. She even imposed upon her confessor to such a degree that he gave her a scapulary. After he had givr a it, how* ever, one of the saints m heaven inforined him in a vision, that the holy scapulary must not remain on the neck of so great a sinner, and that it must be restored to the church. She lav down that night with the soapnlaiy lound her thzoat; Iml In m <4 AlfWVh ]>2BCaU)SnBS8 morniog was found dead, with her head out off, and the Bcapulary was discoyered in the ohurch.The be- lief was, that the devil oould not endure to have so holy a thing on one of bis seryants, and had pulled 80 hard 4;o get it off, as to draw the silken thread, with which it was tied, through her neck; after which, by some divine power, it was restored to the church. Another story was as follows. A poor Boman Gatholic was once taken prisoner by the heretics. He had a sainte scapulaire on his neck, when God, seeing him in the midst of his foes, took it from the neck by a miracle, and held it up in the air above the throng of heretics ; more than one hundred of whom were converted, by seeing it thus supema* iurally suspended. I had been informed by the Superior, on my first admission as a nun, that there was a subterraneous passage, leading from the cellar of our Convent, in- to that of the Congregational Nunnery: but, though I had so often visited the cellar, I had never seen it. One day, after I had been received three or four months, I was sent to walk through it on my knees, with another nun, as a penance. This, and other penances, were sometimes put upon us by the priests, without any reason assigned. The common way, indeed, was to tell us of the sin for which a penance was imposed, but we were left many times to con- jectijre. Now and then the priest would inf(»rm us at a subsequent confession, when he happened to recollect something about it, as I thought, and not because he reflected or cared much upon the subject The nun who was with me led through the cellar, passing to the right of the secret burial-place, aud showed me the door of the subterraneous passage, which was at the extremity towards the Congrega- tional Nunnery. The reasons why I had not notic- ed it before, I presume, were, that it was made to •hut oloM and even with the waU : and all that pait Of uasul iromc. M of tbe cellar was whitewashed. The door, which ia of wood, and square, opens with a latch into a passage about four feet and a half hifi^h. We imme- diately got upon our knees, commenced sayinx ttie prayers required, and began to moye slowly idong the dark and narrow passage. It may be fifty or sixty feet in length. When we reached the end, we opened a door, and found ourselves in the cellar of the Congregational Nunnery, at some distance from the outer wall ; for the covered way is carried on to* wards the middle of the cellar by two low partitions covered at the top. By the side of the door was placed a list of names of the Black Nuns, with a slide that might be drawn over any of them. We covered our names in this manner, as evidence of having performed the duty assigned us ; and then returned downwards on our knees, by the way we had come. This penance I repeatedly performed afterwards ; and by this way, as I have occasion elsewhere to mention, nuns from the Congregational Nunnery sometimes entered our Convent for worse purposes. We were f reauently assured that miracles are still {)erformed ; and pains were taken to impress us deep- yon this subject. The Superior of ten spoke to us of the Virgin Marv's pincushion , the remains of which are pretended to be preserved in the Convent, though it has crumbled quite to dust. We regarded this relic with such veneration, that we were afraid even to look at it, and we often heard the following story related, when the subject was introduced. A priest in Jerusalem once had a vision, in whioh he was informed that the bouse in which tlie Tir« gia had lived, should be removed from its founda- tions, and transported to a distance. He did not think the communication was from Gk>d, and ther»* fore disregarded it ; but the house was soon afttr misssd, which oonvinoed him that the vision was tnie, and he tdd where the house might be fouudt 174 a ^ ▲WfUL mSGEMRTBW A picture of the houie is preserred in the Nunnery, and was sometimes shown us. There was also wax figures of Joseph sawing wood, and Jesus, as a ehild, picking up the chips. We were taught to sing a little song relating to this, the chorus of which I rememher : ** Saint Joseph Garpentier, Petit Jesus ramassait les copeauz Pour faire houillir la marmite I" (St. Joseph was a carpenter, little Jesus collected chips to make the pot hoil.^ I began to speak of miracles, and I recollect a story of one, about a family in Italy sayed from shipwreck by a priest, who were in consequence conyerted, and had two sons honoured with the priest's ofBct*. I had heard, before I entered the Conyent, aboi-t a great fire which had destroyed a number of houses in the Quebec suburbs, and which some said the Bishop extinguished with holy water. I once heard a Catholic and a Protestant disputing on this sub- ject, and when I went to the Congregational Nun- nery, I sometimes heard the children, alludinf? to tbe same story, say, at an alarm of fire, *' Is it a Catholic fire P Then why does not the Bishop run ?*' Among the topics on which the Bishop addressed the nnns in the Conyent, this was one. He told ns the story one day, that he could haye sooner inter- fered and stopped the fiames, but that at last, find- ing they were about to destroy too many Catholio houses, he threw holy water on the fire, and extin- guished it. I belieyed this, and also thought that fie was able to put out any fire, but that he never did it except when inspired. The holy water which the Bishop has eottsecrated, was considered much more efficacious than any hies- sed b^ a common priest ; and this it was which was used in the Conyent in sprinkling our beda. It bss a yirtue in it to keep off any eyfl spirit. Now that I was a nim, I wat ocoMioMiUy seat Is Of icABU xoirs. 67 read lectures to the noTioes, as other nmis bad been while I was a noTioe. There were bat few of na who were thought capable of reading Bnglish well " Try to oouTort them— saye their souls— yon know yon will have a higher place in bea?en for eyery one you conyert." For whatever reason, Mad Jane Bay seemed to take great delight in crossing and proyoking tide Sn» perior and old uuns ; and oiten she would cause an mterruption when it was most inconyenient and displeasing to them. The presenration of silence was insisted upon most rigidly, and penances of such a nature were imposed for breaking it, that it was a constant source of uneasiness with me, to know that I might infringe the rules in so many ways, and that inattention might at any moment subject me to something yery unplea&ant. During the pe* riods of meditation, therefore, and those of lecture, work, and repose, I kept a strict guard upon my* Belf, to escape penances, as well as to ayoid sin ; and the silence of the others conyinced me that thdy were equally watchful, and from the same motiyes. My feelings, howeyer, yaried at different times, and so did those of many, if not of all my compani* 001, ezcej^ting the older ones, who took their tarns in watchmg us. We sometimes felt disposed for gaiety, and threw off all idea that talking was sin- ful, eyen when reauired by the rules of the Oonyant. I even, when I felt that I might perhaps be doing wrong, reflected that confession, and certainly pan- anoe, would soon wipe off the guilt. I may remark here, that I ere long found out sot* eral things important to be known to a person liyiug under such rules. One of these was. thai it was much better to confess to a priest a sin oommitled •guust th* roles, because ba would iK>t requiia otta 11 - i . I P 111 i ; 1 68 XWWUL 3MDM0CO89BB8 of the peuauoes I most disliked. Tiz., those wbioh ex* posed me to the observatioii ox the nuns, or whioh demanded self •debasement before them, like beor^ing their pardop, kissing the floor, or the Superior's fee^ ftc, and, besides, he as a confessor was DouDd to se- meojt and could not inform the Superior against me. My conscience being as effectually unburdened by my confession to the priest, as I had been taught to believe, I therefore preferred not to tell my sins to any one else : and this course I found was preferred by others for the same good reasons. To Jane Bay, however, it sometimes appeared to be a matter of perfect indifference, who knew her vio- lations of rule, to what penance she exposed herself. Often and often, while perfect silence prevailed among the nuns, at meditation, or while nothinrr was to be heard except the voice of the reader appointed for the day, no matter whose I'fa or writings were presented for our contemplation, Jane would break forth with some remark or question, that would at- tract general attt^ntion, and ofteu cause a long and total interruption. Sometimes she would make some harmless remark or inquiry aloud, as if through mere inadvertency, and then her loud and well known Toice, so strongly associated with every thing singu- lar and ridiculous, would arrest the attention of us all, and generally incline us to laugh. The Superior would then usually utter some hasty remonstrance, and many a time I have heard her pronounce some penance upon her; but Jane had some apology ready, or some reply calculated to irritate still further, or to prove to every one that no punishment would be effectual on her. Sometimes this singular woman would appear to be actuated by opposite feelings and motives; for although she usually delighted in drawing others into difficulty, and has thrown many a severe penance even upon her greatest favourites. on other occasions she appeared totallv regardless ox eonieqaenoee herselfy and preferred to take alltU blame^ anzioas o&ly to ihield others. or UASXk XOHX. 69 I hate repeaiedly known her to bresk •Qenoa in the oommuDity, at if she had no object, or none be* yond that of causing disturbance, or exciting a smile, and as soon as it was noticed, exclaim, *' Say it's me, say it's me l" Sometimes she would oyen expose herself to pnn* ishment in place of another who was guilty ; and thus I found it difficult fully to understand her. In some oases she seemed decidedly out of her wits, as the Superior and priests coinmoul^ preferred to re« present her ; but generally I saw in her what pre* vented me from accounting her insane. Among her common tricks were such as these ; she s:aye me the name of the '' Devout English Reader,'' because I was often appointed to read the lecture to the English girls; and sometimes, after taking a seat near me, under pretence of deafness, would whisper it in my hearing, because she knew my want of self-command when excited to laughter. Thua she often exposed me to penances for a breach of de* corum, and set me to biting my lips, to avoid laugh* ing outri<][ht in the midst of a solemn lecture. '* Oh I you devout English reader !*' would sometimes come upon me suddenly from her lips, with something in it 80 ludicrous, that I had to exert myself to the at* most to avoid observation. This came so often at one time, that I grew nn* easy, and told her I must confess it. to unburden my conscience. I had not done so before, because she would complain of me, for giving way to temptation. Sometimes she would pass behind us as we stood at dinner ready to sit down, and softly moving back our chairs, leave us to fnil down upou the floor. Thia the has repeatedly done ; and while we were lau^h* ing together, she would spring forward, kneel to the Superior, and beg her pardon and a penauoot TO Kwwai mmsimuBm OHAFTEB. XI. Aknniiig order from the Su|ieiior--Proo0ed tooMoateit— Seeno in aa npper room— Sentenoe of deaths and mur« der— My own mstrest— Beporto made to friends of St SPranees. But I maat now come to one deed in which I had ■ome part, and which I look back upon with (greater horror and pain than any occurrences in the Convent, in which I was not the principal sufferer. It is not necessary for me to attempt to excuse myself in this or any other case. Those who have an^ disposition to judge fairly, will exercise their own judgment in maKing allowances for me, under the fear and force, the command and examples, before me. I, therefore, shall confine myself, as usual, to the simple narration of facts. The time was about five months after I took the veil, the weather was cool, perhaps in Sep- tember or October. One day, the Superior sent for me and several other nuns, to receive her commands at a particular room. We found the Bishop and some priests with her ; and speakin*; in an unusual tone of fierceness and authority, she said, ^* Go to the room for the Examination of Conscience, and drag St. IVances up stairs." Nothing more was ne- cessary than this unusual command, with the tone and manner which accompanied it, to excite in me the most gloomy anticipations. It did not strike me as stran^^e that St. Frances should be in the room to whid) the Superior directed us. It was an apartment to which we were often sent to prepare for the com- munion, and to which we voluntarily went, when- ever we felt the compunctions which our ip^norance of duty, and the misinstructions we received, inclin- ed us to seek relief from self-reproach. Indeed I had seen her there a little before. What terrified me was, first, the Superior's angry manner ; second, the expression she used, being a French term, whose peculiar use I had learnt in the Convent, and whose meaning is rather softened when translated iuto 09 lOBU IIOVK. 71 drag; third, the place to which we were directed ki take the intereitinff young iiiin» end the penone iie- lembled there, ai Irappoaed, to condemn her. 1^ fears were Buch, conceminff the fate that awaitea her, and my horror at the idea that she was in eome way to be sacrificed, that I would have given any- thing to be allowed to stay where I was. But I feared the consequences of disobeyiog the Sunerior* aud proceeded with the rest towards the room for the examiuation of conscience. The room to which we were to proceed froQi that, was in the second story, and the place of many a Bcene of a shameful nature. It is sufficient to sav, after what I have said in other parts of this book, that things had there occurred which made me re- gard the place with the ;;reatest disgust. Saint Frances had appeared melancholy for some time. I well knew that she had cause, for she had been re- peatedly subject to trials which I need not name-— our common lot. When we reached the room where we had been bidden to seek her, I entered the door, my companions standing behind me, as the place was so small as hardly to hold five persons at a ume. The young nun was standing alone, near the middle of the room ; she was probably about twenty, with light hair, blue eyes, and a very fair complexion. 1 spoke to her in a compassionate voice, but at the same time with such a decided manner, that she com- prehended my meaning. ** Saint Frances, we are sent for yon." Several others spoke kindly to her, but two ad« dressed her very harshly. The poor creature turned round with a look of meekness, and without ex- pressing any unwillinprness or fear, without evea speaking a word, resigned herself to onr hands. The tears came into my eyes. I had not a momentfe doubt Jthat she considered her fate as sealed, and wae already beyond the fear of death. She was conduct- ed or rather hurried to the staircasO| which was iteay ,V '%! ^UU-*"l n ▲TflTTL DIIOEX)SXJBXI by, tnd fhen leised bj her limbt aod clothes, and tn faot almoet dragged op ttairti in the sense the So. perior had intended. I laid my own hands upon her —I took hold of her, too, more gentlv indeed thau some of the rest ; yet I enconraged and assisted them in carrying her. I conld not avoid it. My refusal wonld not haTC saved her, nor preyented her from being carried np : it would ouly have exposed me to some severe punishmeut, as I believe some of my companions would have seised the first opportunity to compltthi of me. All the way up the staircase, Saint Frances spoke not a word, nor made the slightest resistance. When we entered, with her, the room to which she was or- dered, my heart sank within me. The Bishop, the Lady Superior, and five priests, viz.: Bonin,BichnrHs, Savace, and two others, I now ascertained, were as- sembled for trial, on some charge of great imiK)rtance. When we had brought our prisoner before them, Father Richards began to question her, and she made ready, but calm, replies. I cannot pretend to give a connected account of what ensued ; my feelings were wrought up to such a pitch, that I knew not what I did, or what to do. X was under a terrible apprehension that, if I betrayed the feelings which overcame me, I should fall under the displeasure of the cold-blooded persecutors of my poor innocent sister ; and this fear on the one hand, with the dis- tress I felt for her on the other, rendered me almost frantic. As soon as I entered the room, I had step* Jed into a corner, on the left of the entrance, where might partially support myself by leaning against the wall between the door and the window. This support was all that prevented me falling to the floor, for the confusion of my thoughts was so great, that only a few of the words I heard spoken on either side made any lasting impression upon me. I felt as if struck with some innupportabte blow; and death would not hav» Heen more frightful to me* I OV UAMk UOVT. 7S am indined to the bdief that Fathtr Biohardt with- ad to shield the poor prisoner from the seTeritvof her fete, hjr drawing from her expressions that might hear a f ayoarahle oonstruction. He asked her. imong other things, if she was now sorrj for what she had heen oTerheard to saj, (for she had heen be- trayed by one of the nuns,) and if she would not pre- fer oonfinement in theoells to the punishment wnioh was threatened. But the Bishop soon interrupted him, and it was easy to perceive, that he considered her fate as sealed, and was determined she should not escape. In reply to some of the questions put to her, sne was silent ; to others I heard her Toice re- ply that she did not repent of words she had utter- ed, though they had been reported bv some of the nuns who had heard them ; that she had firmly re- BoWed to resist every n.Uempt to oomiel her to the oommiesion of crimes which she detested. She add- ed that she would rather die than cause the murder of harmless babes. " Tliat is enoufrh, finish her I** said the Bishop. Two nuns instantly fell upon the woman, and in ohedience to directions, given by the Superior, pre* pared to execute her sentence. She Rtill maintained all the calmness and submis- siou of a lamb. Some of those who took part in this irausaction, I believe, were as unwilling as mvself ; but of ()thers I can safely say, I believe tney delight- ed in it. Their conduct certainly exhibited a most blood thirsty 8\)irit. But above all others present, and above all human fiends I ever saw, I think Saint Hypolite was the most diabolical ; she engaged in the horrid tusk with all alacrity, and assumed from choice the most revolting parts to be performed. She seized a gag, forced it into the mouth of the poor nun, and when it was fixed between her extend- ed jaws, so as to keep them open at their greatest possible distance, took hold of the straps fastened at each end o| the stick, crossed them behind the help. BPIPH^WI^ 74 ▲WVDL BBMI&Ofmm r* iMilMid of llMTiettiiii anddnirtham tight thioiigli tht loop prapartd as a fatteniog. ThoMdy which had always stood in one part of tha looudf still remained there ; thoogh the screen, which had usually heen placed before it, and was made of thick muslin, with only a crevice through which a person might look out, bad been folded up on its hiuges iu the form of a W., and placed iu a comer. On the bed the prisoner was laid with her face upwards, and then bound with cords so that she could not moye. In an instant, another bed was thrown upon her. One of the priests, named Bonin, sprung like a fury first upon it, with all his force. £Le was speedily followed by the nuns, until there were as many upon the bed as could find room, aud all did what they could, not only to smother, but to bruise her. Some stood up and lumped upon the poor girl with their feet, some with their knees : and others, in different ways, seemed to seek how tl.ey might best beat the breath out of her body, nnd mangle it, without coming iu direct contact with it, or seeing the effects of their violences. During tins time, my feelings were almost too strong to be en- dured. I felt stupefied, and scarcely was conscious of what I did. Still, fear for myself remained iu a sufficient degree to induce me to soniu exertion ; and I attempted to talk to those who stood next, partly that I might have an excuse for turning away from the dreadful scene. After the lapse of fifteen or twenty minutes, and when it was presumed that the sufferer had been smothered and crushed to death. Father Bonin aud the nuns ceased to trample upon her, and stepped from the bed. All was motionless and silent beneath it. They then began to laugh atsuoh inhuman thoughts as occurred to some of them, reliving each other in the most unfeeling manner, and ridiculing me for feelings which I in vain endeavoured to concenl. They alluded to the resigpation of our murdered oom« Of XiBU MOIIX. n ninion t i&d OM of them taughtliiglj Mdd, ^Blio would naTO made a food OathoUo martyr/' Aftm spending tome momanti in inch oonTorsatioD, ona of them aaked if the oorpae should be remoyed. Tha Soperior said it had better remaio a little while. Af- ter waiting a short time longer, the feather-bed was taken off, the cords unloosed, and the body taken bj the nuns and dragged down stairs, I was informed that it was taken into the cellar, and thrown uuoere- moniously into the hole which I haye already de- scribed, covered with a great quantity of lime ; and afterwards spriukled with a liquid, of the properties uud name of which I am ignorant. This liquid I have seeu poured into the hole from large bottles, after the necks were broken off ; and haye heard that it is used in France to prevent the effluvia rising from cemeteries. I did not soon recover from the shook caused by this scene ; indeed, it still recurs to me, with most gloomy impressions. The next day, there was a melancholy a8|)ect oyer eyerything, and recreation time passed in the dullest nmiiuer; scifrcely any- thinpf was s.ud above a whispjer. I never heard much said iifterwards about Saint Frances. I spoko with one of the nuns, a few words, one day, but we were all cautioned not to expose our- selves very fur, and could not place much reliance in each other. The murdered nun had been brought to her shocUiig end through the treachery of one of our number in whom she confided. I never knew with certainty who had reported her remarks to the Superior, but suspicion fastened on one,and I never could regard her but with detestation. I was more inclined to blame her than some of those employed in the execution ; for there could have been no necessity for the betrayal of her feel* ines. We all knew how to ayoid exposing each other. I was often sent by the Superior to overhear what was said by novices and nuns, when they seemed to m^^ 76 AWWUL DISCTLO^irilS ■honlitr; ahawonldsaT, *' Gk> and liiltii, th«j art •peaking Englith;" aod though I ohayed her, I nerer iofonned her against them. If i wished to clear my oomdenoe. I would go to a priest and con* fesi. knowing that ne dared not communicate what I sud to any person, and that he would not chooie as heary penances at the Superior. We were always at liberty to choose another con- fessor when he had any sin to confess, which wo were unwilling to tell one to whom we should other- wise haTC done. Not long after the murder Just related, a young woman came to the nunnery, and asked for permis* rion to see St. Frances. It was my former friend, with whom I had been an assistant teacher, Miss Louisa Bousquet, of St. Denis. From this, I sup- posed the murdered nun might haye come from that town, or its vicinity. The only answer was, that St. Frances was dead. Some time afterwards, some of St. Frances' friends called to inquire after her, and. they were told that she had died a glorious death ; and further told, that she made some heavenly expressions, which wero repeated in order to satisfy her friends. CHAPTER XII. Dssoription of the Room of the three States, and the pio- tnresin it— Jane Kay-^Ridiculing Priests —Their crimi- nal treatment of ns at Confession— Jane Ray's tricks with the Nun's Aprons, Handkerchiefli, and Night Gowns— Apples. Thb pictures in the room of the three states wers large, and paiuted by some artist who understood how to make some horrible ones. They appeared to be stuck to the walls. The 1i often a contest amr>n.; us, to avoid entering the apartment as long as we could : endeavouring to make each other go first, as that was what moat cl usdreadtd. During the long and tedious days which filled up the time between the occurrences I have mentioned, nothing or little took place to keep up our spirits. We were fatigued in body with labour, or with ait* ting, debilitated by the long continunnce of our re* ligioiis exercises, aftd depressed in feelings by our mi* serable and hopeless condition. Nothing but the hu* mours of mad Jane Ray could rouse us for a me* ment from our languor and melancholy. To mention all her devices, would require more room thau is here allowed, and a memory of almost ( so AwwT. DtMLosmm all her words aud actions for years. I had earlv he. oome a faTourite with her, and had opportunity to loam more of her charaoter than most of the other Duns. As thie may he learned from hearins what she did. I will here recount a few of her tricks, just SB they happen to present themselves to my memory, with reffard to the order of time. She one day, in an uTiaccountahle humour, sprink. led the floor plentifully with holy water, which brouf^ht nnon her a severe lecture from the Superior, as might have heen expected. The Superior said it was a heinous offence : she had wasted holy water enough to save many souls from purgatory : and what would they not give for it. She then ordered Jine to sit in the middle of the floor, and when the I riest came, he was informed of her offence. In- stead, however, of imposing one of those penances to which she had heen suhjected, hut with so little effect, he said to her, *' Go to your place, Jane; we foriBfive you for this time." i was once set to iron aprons with Jane ; aproni and pocket-handkerchiefs are the oTiIy articles of dress which are ever ironed in the Convent. As soon RS we were alone, she remarked, " Well, we are free from the rules while we are at this work ;" and, nl- though she knew she had no reason for sayin? so, she began to sing, and I soon joined her, and thus we spent the time, while we were at work, to the neiirlect of the prayers that we ou^^ht to have said. We had no idea that we were in danger of bein|i[ overheard, but it happened that the Superior was overhead all the time, with several nuns, who were prepskring for confession : she came down and said, '* How is this P" Jane Ray coolly replied that we had employed our time in singing hymns, and re« f erred to me. I was afraid to confirm so directs falsehood, in order to deceive the Superior, though I hsui often told mote injuriotis ones of her fabrios- tioD, or at her ordan, and said very little in reply to Jane's request Of MASUL UOJTK, n The Superior plainly brw the triok that was at- tempted, and ordered us hoth to the room for the exaniitiatton of conscience, wliere we remained till pight without a mouthful to eat. The time was not, howover, unoccu))ied : I received such a lecture from jane as I have Terj seldom heard, and she wns so snpry with me, that we did not apeak to each other for two weeks. At lenf^th she found something to complain of against me, had me subjected to a pennnce, which led to our be^ginf^ ench other's pardon, and we bH- came perfectly satisfied, reconciled, and as good friends as ever. One of the most disgusting penances we had ever to submit to, was that of drinking the water in which the Superior had washed her feet. Nobody could ever laugh at this penance except Jane Biy. She would pretend to comfort us, by saying she was sure it was better than mere plain clear water. Some of the tricks which I remember, were played bj Jane with nuns* clothes. It was a rule that the oldest aprons in use should go to the youngest re- ceived, and that the old nuns were to wear all the new ones. On four different occasions. Jane stole into the sleeping-room at night, and unobserved by the watch, changed a great part of the aprons, plac- ing' them bv the beds of nuns to whom they did not boIon;^ The conseauence was, that in the morning they dressed themselves in sucli haste, as neTor to discover the mistake thviy made, until they were all ranged at prayers ; and ^.hen the ridiculous api)ear« si'ce which many of them cut, disturbed the long de- votions. X laugh so easy that, on such occasions, I usually incurred a full share of penances. I general- ly, however, got a new apron, wnen Jane played this frick ; for it was part of her object to give the best ipiTons to he? favourites, and put off the ragged onei 00 some of the old nans whom she most hated. JsLe oooe lost her poolMt-hAndkMrohief . The pen* NJ t' ' ! 'n «2 4 %, ▲tnfuti DnoLostniss anoe for suah an offence is, to go without any for five weeks. For this she had no relish, and requested me to pick one from some of the nuns on the way up stairs. I succeeded in setting two ; this Jar.e said was one too many, and she thought it dan^rerousfor either of us to keep it, lest a search should be made. Very soon the two nuns were complaining that they had lost their handkerchiefs, and wondering what could have become of them« as they were sure they had been careful. Jane seized an oi)portuuity, and slipped one into a straw bed, where it remained un- til the bed was emptied to be filled with new straw. As the winter was coming on, one year, she com- plained to me that we were not as well supplied with warm night-clothes, as two of the nuns she named, whom she said she ''abominated." She soon after found means to get possession of their fine warm flanTiel iiight-pfowns, one of which she gave to me, while the other was put on at bedtime. She presum- ed the owners would have a secret search for them ; and in the morning hid them in the stove, after the fire had gone out, which was kindled a little before the hour of rising, and then suffered to bum down. This she did everj morrsing, taking them out at night through the winter. The poor nuns who own- ed the garments were afraid to complain of their l6ss, lef^t they should have some penance Inid on them, and nothing was ever said about them. When the weather be;: an to grow warm in the spring, Jane returned the ni^rht-gowns to the beds of the nuns from whom she bad borrowed them, and they were probably as mucli surprised to find them again, as they had been bef re at losing them. Jane once found an opportunity to fill her apron with a quantity of fine apples, called/a9n«u«tf5, which came in her way, and hastening up t»o the sleeping- room, hid them under my bed. Then coming down, she informed me, and wa ai^reed to apply for leave to make our elevens, as it isualled. The meimiug 07 VAVUl Komc 8S of this is, to repeat a eBilain rouud 6f prayers, for nine days in succession, to some saint we ctioose to address for assistance in becoming more charitable, affectionate, or something else. We easily obtained permission, and hastened upstairs to begin oar nine days' feast on the apples ; when, much to our sur- (rise, they had all been taken away, and there was uo way to avoid the disagreeable fate we bad brought upon ourselves. Jane, therefore, began to search the beds of the other nuus : but not miding any trace of the apples, siie became doubly vexed, uud stuck pins in those that belonged to her enemies. When bed -time came, they were much scratched in getting into bed, which made them break silence, and that subjected them to penances. CHAPTER XIII. Jane Kay's tricks continued— The broomstick ghost— Sleep- walking— Salted cider— Chan|;;ing beds— Objects of some of her tricks- Feigned Humility — Alarm. One night, Jane, who had been sweeping the sleep* ing-room for a penance, dressed up the broomstick, when she had completed her work, with a wliite cloth on the end, so tied as to resemble an old wo- man dressed in white, with long arms sticking oat. This she stuck through a broken pane of glass, and plncod it so that it appeared to bo looking in at the window, by the font of holy water. There it re- mained till the nuns came up to bed. The first who stopped at the font, to dip her fitiger in, ctitight a glimpse of the singular object, and started with ter- ror. The next was equally tcrritied, as she ap- proached, and the next, and thc^ next. We all believed in ghosts ; and it was not wonder« f ul that such an object should cans?) alarm, especially as it was but a short time after the death of one of the nuns. Thus they went on, each getting a fright in turn, yet all afratd to speak. At length, oue more alarmed| or with \em presence ol imiia 1 m .•■Sf^f^^ **• M AWFUL DSlOLOStTfiKS than tbe rest, exclaimed, ** Oh, moo Bieu ! Je ne me ooucberais pasl" When tbe nigbt watob call. ad oat, ** Wbo'8 that?" sbe coufessed sbe bad broken silence, but pointed at the cause ; and wbe:i all the nuns assembled at a distance from the window, Jane offered to advance boldly, and ascertain tbe nature of the apparition, which they thought a most reso- lute intention. We ail stood looking on, when she stepped totbewindow, drew in tbe broomstick, and showed us the ridiculous puppet which had alarmed so many 8U[)erstitious fears. Some of her prreatest feats sbe performed as a sleep* walkr ' Whether she ever walked in her sleep or nn; I am unable, with certainly, to say. She ' < we r^r, Men imposed upon the Superior, and olO riuBSj t / making them think so, when I knew sho il>d xr^ f and ^et I cannot positively say that she id^ *iyQ did, I have remarked that one of the ol«i nuns w&u always placed in our sleepiiig-room at night, to watch us. Sometimes she would be in- attentive, and sometimes fall into a doze. Jane Bay often seized such times to rise from her bed, aud walk about, occasionally seizing one of the nuns in bed, in order to frighten her. This she generally ef- fected ; and many times we have been awakened by screams of terror. In our alarm, some of us fre- quently broke silence, and gave occasion to the Su- perior to lay us under penances. Many time? how- ever, we escaped with a mere reprimand, while Jane usually received ezuressions of compassion : *' Poor oreature ; she would not do so \f she were in perfect possession of her reason." And JanQ displayed ner customary artfulness, in keeping up the fal'^e im- pression. As soon as she perceived that the old nun was likely to observe her, she would throw her arms about, or appear unconscious of what she was do- ing ; falling upon a bed, or standing stock-still, un- til exertions bad been made to rouse her from her supposed Ltbargy. OF HABU UOmX. 85 We were once allowed to drink cider at dinncTi which was quite an extraordinary favour. Jane, however, on account of her negligence of all work, wa8 denied the privilege, which she much reseuted. The next dav, wheu dinner arrived^ we began to taste our new drink, but it was so salt we could not swallow it. Those of us who first discovered it were as usual afraid to speak ; but we set down our cups, and looked around, till the others made the same dis- covery, which they all soon did, and most of them in the same manner. Some, however, at length, taken by surprise, uttered some ludicrous exdam- tiuu, on tasting tho stilted cider, and then an old nun, looking across, would cry out— *' Ah ! tu casses la silence." (Ah ; you've broken tilence.) And thus we soon got a laughing, beyond onr power of supporting it. At recreation that day, the first question asked by many of us was, ** How did you like your cider?" Jane Bay never had a fixed place to sleep In. When the weather be^au to grow warm in the spring, she usually pushed some bed out of its place. near a window, and put her own beside it; and wheu the winter approached, she would choose a spot neur the stove, and occupy it with her bed, iu spite of all remonstrance. We were all convinced that it was generally best to yield to her. She was often set to work in diiferent ways ; but, whenever she was dis3:\ti>>fied with doing any thing, would devise some trick that would make the Su- perior or old nuns drive her off ; and whenever any suspicion was ex| res>ed of her being in her right mind, she would say that she did not know what she was doing ; and all the difficulty arose from her repeating prayers too much, which wearied and di«- tiacted her mind. I was once directed to assist Jane Ray in shiftinif the beds ( f the nuns. When we came to those of AMWn SISOLOtUBSS •oma of the tittert whom the moit dislikod* aho lald, now we will pay them for some of the penMicei we haTe tuffered on their aecount ; and taking some ttiietlea, she mixed them with the straw. At night, the first of them that f(ot into bed felt the thisttes, and cried out. The night-watch exclaimed us usual, ^ You are breaking silence there." And then ano- ther screamed as she was scratched by the thistles, and another. The old nun then called on all who had broken silence to rise, and ordered them to •leep under their beds as a penance, which they si- lently complied with. Jaue and I afterwards con- fessed, when it was all over, and took some trifling penance which the priest imposed. Those nuns who ifell most under the displeasure of mad Jane Buy, as I have intimated before, were those who had the reputation of being most ready to inform of the most trifling faults of others, and especially those who acted without any regard to honour, by disclosing what they had pretended to listen to in confidence. Several of the worst-tern- pered '* saints" she held in abhorrence ; and I have heard her say, that such and such she abominated. Many a trick did she play upon these, some of which ware painful to them in their consequences, and a good number of them have never been traced to this oay. Of all the nuns, however, none other was re- garded by her with so much detestation as St. Hypo- lite ; for she was always believed to have betrayed St. Frances, and tu have caused her murder. She was looked upon by us as the voluntary cause of her death, and of the crime which those of us committed, who. unwillingly, took part in her execution. We, on the contrary, beii^g under the worst of fears for ourselves, in cusu of refusing to obey our masters and mistress, tliought ourselves chargeable with less {(uilt, as unwilling assiiitants in a scene which it was imftosHible for us to prevent or delay. Jane has of- ten spoke with me of the suspected informer, nnd always in terms of the greatest bitterneas. wjuau. xon. 87 «, ^e no The Soottior tometimM «xpreMed oommiMratioa formed Jmna Bay, but I never oould tell whether ■he really belieyed her insane or not. I waealways inclined to think, that the wae willing to pat up with some of her trioke, because they eenred to di« Tert our niinde from the painful and depreaaing oir* oumstanoes in which we were placed. I knew the Superior's powers and habits of deception also, and that she would deceive us as willingly as any one else. Sometimes she proposed to send Jane to St. Anne'ii B place near Quebec, celebrated for the pilrrimagea Qiade to it by persons differently afflictea. It is sap« po< bed. A good deal of confusion naturally ensued, but the authors Tfere not discovered. I was so conscionce-strioken, however, that a week afterwards, wliile we were ez- amininpr our consciences together. I told her I must confess the sin the next day. She replied, "Do as yon hke, but you will be sorry for it." The next day, when we came before the Superior, T was just poing to kneel and confess, when Jane, almost without piving me time to shut the door, threw herself at the Superior's feet and confessed the trick, and a penance was immediately laid upon me for the \\\ I had concealed. There was an old nun who was a famous talker, whom we used to call La Mftre (Mother.) One night, Jane Ray pot up, and secretly changed the caps of severalof the nuns; and hers among the rest. In the mominpr there was great confusion, and such a icebe as seldom oocnrrod. She was severely blamed ^ .^^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.25 M 12.0 us m^ Hiotographic Sciences Corpordtion 23 WeST MAIN STMIT WIBSTBR,N.Y. 14SM ( 71* ) •72-4503 \ •s^ \\ '^ "" ''V ■■'■■'■■ : 1 M AWPtfii sssoLOVonm Vj Im Mtot, lit^g been inlonned againit bf loma of tbe Hunt; snd at lart beoaine to mvob enraged- tbatshe attacked the old woman, and even took her by th^ throat. La M^re called on all present to come to her asmstance, and seTeral nnns interfered. Jane seiced the opportnnity afforded in the oonf a- eion, to beat some of her worst enemies quite severe- ly, and afterward said, that she had intended to kill some of the rascally informers. For a time Jane made us laugh so much at prayers, that the Superior forbade her going dowawith us at morning prayers ; and she took the opportunity to ffleep in the morning. When this was found out, ehe was forbidden to get into her bed again after leaving it, and then she would creep under it and take a nap on the floor. This she told us of one day, but threatened us if we ever betrayed her. At length riie was missed at breakfast, as she would sometimes oversleep herself, and the Superior began to be more strict, and always inquired, in the morning, whether Jane Kay was in her place. When the question was general none of us answer- ed ; but when it was addressed to some nun near her by name, as, ^ Saint Eustace, is Jane Bay in her place P' then we had to reply. Of all the Bcenes that occurred during my stay in the Oonvent, there was none which excited the de- light of Jane more than one which took place in the chapel one day at mass, though I never had any par- ticmarreason to suppose that shehad broughtit about. Some person unknown to me to this day, had put some substance or other, of a most nauseous smell, into the hat of a little boy, who attended at the altar, and he, without observing the trick, put it upon his head. In the midst of the ceremonies he approached Mmie of the nuns, who were almost soffoM^ with ihm odour ; and as he occasionally moved fvomnlace to place, eome of them befui to beckon to bun to OW MMMXA UQim. n gland further <^, and to hold their noaaa, with looke of dugaat. The boy waa quite nnconadoQa of the oaose of the diffionlty, and paid them no attention, but the oonf usion aoon became so great through the distress of some, and the iaughiug^f others, that the Superior noticed the circumstance, and be jKoned the boy to withdraw. All attempts, however, to engage ua in any work, prayer, or meditation, were found ineffectual. When- ever the circumstances in the chapel came to miud, we would laugh out. We had got into such a state, that we could not easily restrain ourselves. The Soi* perior, yielding to necessity, allowed us recreation for the whole day. The Superior used sometimes to send Jane to in- struct the novices in their English prayers. She would proceed to the task with all seriousness ; but sometimes chose the most ridiculous, as well as irre- verent passages from the songs, and other things, which she had sometimes learned, which would set us, who understood her, laughing. One of her rhymes, I recollect, began with— <* The Lord of love — look from above, Upon this turkey hen 1*' Jane for a time slept opposite to me, end often in the night would rise, unobserved, and slip into my bed, to talk with me, which she did in a low whis« per, and returned again with equal caution. She would tell roe of the tricks she had played, and such as she meditated, and sometimes make me laugh so loud, that I had much to do in the morning with begging pardons and doing penances. One wmter's day, she was sent to light a fire ; but after she had done so, remarked privately to some of us, "my fingers were so cold— you'll see if I do it again." The next day there was a great ttir in the house, beoaute i% was said that mad Jane Bay had been seized with a fit whUe making 4 fire* and she waa ! V I M AWWUL pIBOLOSUBSB taken up apparently insensible, and oonTejed to her bed. She complained to me, who visited her in the oourae of the day, that she was likely to starve, as food was deuied her ; aud I was persuaded to piu a stockiug uuder my dress, aud secretly put food into it from the table. This I afterwards carried to her, aud relieved her wauts. Oue of the thiu^s which I had blamed Jaue most for, was a dispositiou to quarrel with any nuu who seemed to be wiuuiug the favour of the Superior. She would uever rest until she had brought such a oue into some difficulty. We were allowed but little soap ; and Jane, when she found her supply uearly goue, would take the first piece she could tiud. Oue day there was a gen- eral search made for a large piece that was missed ; when, soon after I had been searched, Jaue Bay pass- ed me, aud slipped it into my pocket ; she soon after was searched herself, and theu secretly came for it •^Saiu. While I recall these particulars of our Nunnery, and refer so often to the conduct aud language of oue of the nuns, I cannot speak of some things, which I believed or suspected, on account of my want of sufficieut knowledge, but it is a pity you have not Jane Bay for a witness ; she knew many things of which I am ignorant. She must be in possession of facts that should be kuown. Her long residence in the Convent, her habits of roaming about it, and of observing everything, must have made her acquaint- ed with things which would be heard with interest, I always felt as if she knew everything. She would often go and listen, or look through the cracks into the Superior's room, while any of the priests were oloseted with her, and sometimes would come and tell me what she witnessed. I felt myself bound to oonfest on such occasions, and always did to. Si^ knew, however, that I only told it to the priest, or to the Superior, and without mentioning the naijue 61 my inl 80 that s « Don't 1 would re for me." formed < be secret Jane I into the I sofa, and expected tweeu th Superior fearing s vailed, v length, h afforded I was] where I of my sh I rose ag caused i small sqi raise. au< not lio'ht ticed by closing 1 could no afterwar Bubterra could be: the prie among u gates we up toth then up 1 theychoi I after torect, OF MASXJL MOmt/ 98 of myiniformant, which I was at liberty to withhold, 80 that she was not found out. I often said to her, ** Don't tell me, Jane, for I must confess it." She would reply, ** It is better for you to confess it than for me." I thus became, even against my will, in- formed of scenes supposed by the actors of them to be secret. Jane Bay once persuaded me to accotnpany her into the Superior's room, to hide with her under the sofa, and await the appearance of a visitor whom she expected, that we might overhear what passed be- tween them. We had been long concealed, when the Superior came in alone, and sat for some time ; when, fearing she might detect us in the stillness that pre- vailed, we began to repent of our temerity. At length, however, she suddenly withdrew, and thus afforded us a welcome opportunity to escape. I was passing one day through a part of the cellar, where I had not often occasion to go, when the toe of my shoe hit something. I tripped and fell down. I rose again, and holding my lamp to see what had caused my fall, I found an iron ring, fastened to a small square trap-door. This I had the curiosity to raise^. and saw four or five steps down, but there was not ho'ht enough to see more, and I feared to be no- ticed by somebody and reported to the Superior ; so, closing the door aa:aiu, I left the spot. At first 1 could not imagine the use of such a passage ; but it afterwards occurred to me that it might open to the subterranean passage to the Seminary ; for I never could before account for the appearance of many of the priests, who often appeared and disappeared among us, particularly at night, when I knew the gates were dosed. They'oould, as I now saw, oome up to the door of the Superior's room at any hojor; then up the stairs into our sleeping-room, or where theyehose. Andoftenthey were in our beds befomtis. I afterwards ascertained that my oon jeotures were correct, and that a secret oomrounicattoo was kej^l 94 JiVtBVti TftBOlABWBS up in ibis maimer between these two iustitattons, at the end towards N6tre Dame street, at a oonsidfer- able depth under ground. I often afteywards met priests in the cellar, when sent there for ooals and other articles, as they had to pass up and down tLo OommoD cellar stairs on their way. My wearisome daily prayers and labours, my paiu of body and depression of mind, which were so much increased by penances I had suffered, and those which I constantly reared, and the feelings of shame, remorse, and horror, which sometimes arose, brought me to a state which I canuot describe. In the first place, my frame was enfeebled by the uneasy postures I was required to keep for so long a time during prayers. This alone, I thought, was sufficient to undermine my health and destroy my life. An hour and a half every morning I had to sit _i»;'lhe floor of the community-room, with my feet under me, my body bent forward, and my head hang- ing on one side, in a posture expressive of great hu> mility, it is true, but very fatiguing to keep for such an unreasonable length of time. Often I found it impossible to avoid falling asleep in this posture, which I could do without detection, by bending a little lower than usual. The signal to rise, or the noise made by the rising of the other nuns, then woke me, and I got up with the rest unobserved. Before we took the posture just described, we had to kneel for a long time without bending the body, keeping quite erect, with the exception of the knees onl^, with the hands together before the breast. This I found the most distressing attitude for me, and never assumed it without feeling a sharp pain in my chest, which I often thought would soon lead me to my giave-'that if, to the great common re- oeptacle for the dead under the ohapeU And this up- right kneeling posture we were obliged to resume ai soon as we rose from the balf«sitting posture flrit mentionedi lo that I usually Islt myself ex- hausted of mora ifoui often di in silec( meditati portanci nothing passed o Jane 1 myself v for then recti V 1 1 my thou another.' Sometj ten the p sleeping them pre a pin, wl time. My do want of < have pro had I no active la was chie some of Theev about fivi vent as a cision, a in the w( stance I where re any acoo Infora ther nov werereqi oy iai?iA ifoNit. U hanflted and near to faintiog before the conclusi.a of moniiDg seryices. i foundthe^editatioDB extremely tedious, and often did I sink into sleep, while we were all seated in silence on the floor. When required to tell my meditations, as it was thought to be of no great im- portance what W9 said, I sometimes found that I had nothing to tell but a dream, and told that, which passed off very well. Jane Bav appeared to be troubled still more than myself with wandering thoughts ; and when blamed for them, would reply, '* I begin very well ; but di- rectly I b I'^in to think of some old friend of mine,and my thoughts go a wandering from one country to another." Sometimes I confessed my falling asleep ; and of- ten the priests have talked to me' about the sin of sleeping in the time of meditation. At last, one of them proposed to me that I should prick myself with a pin, which is often done, and so rouse myself for a time. My close confinement in the Oonvent, and. the want of opportunities to breathe the open air, might have proved more injurious to me than they did, had I not been employed a part of mytime in more active labours than those of sewing, &o., to whioh I was chiefly confined. I took part occasionally in some of the heavy work, as washing, &o. The events which I am now to relate Occurred about five months after my admission into the Con. vent as a nun ; but I cannot fix the time with pre- cision, as I know not of anything that took plaee in the world about the same period. The circum- stance I clearly remember; but as I have else-^ where remarked, we were not accustomed to keep any account of time. Information was given to us one day, tbat ano* ther novice was to be admitted among us; and we wererequired to remember and mention Lee often .,».«.»«,.-T^*fthQ ieen- :6en- Bpoke either I had Sared. ghter, I desir- ihle to at her lission I f ami- i him, family :ed up- ren on lievinj; ) event ; readi- iO Con- >mi8ing money ill des- aor girl trouble w any emain- of onr id con- ime. I and Of KABIi icosnL OHAPTEB XfV. »ft Infloeneliig novices— Diffloulty of convincing persons fW)in the United States- Tale of the liinhop in the city— Tb« Bishop in the convent— The prisoners in the cells- Practice in singing— Narratives— Jane Bay's hynuui— ' The Superior's best tridc. ^'%-'-* It was oonsidered a f^^eat duty to exert oarselveajo V* ^'^ influeuoe novioes in favour of the Boman Oathonoj^ religion ; and different nuns were, at different tii|}eSy * charged to do what they could, by conversatfoik, to make favourable impressi^aa on the minds of som6|; . ' ri^ who were particularly ifidicatc#|p |»8 by the Su- ^ perior. I often heard it remarkei|^biit those w)ip:^ « were influenced with the greatest difficulty, W^"' young ladies from the United States ;«ikd'*OB iijlii%f those, great exertions were mad# Gases in which citizens of the States were said to have been converted to the Boman Catholic faith were sometimes spoken of , and always as if they were considered highly important. The Bishop, as we were told, was in the public square, on the dav of an execution, when, ae be said, a stranger looked at him in some peculiar manner, which made him conftdently believe God intended to have him converted by bis means. When he went home he wrote a letter for him, and the next day he found him ai^ain in tlMTsame place, and gave him the letter, which led to btabecomiuff a Boman Catholic. This man, it was al^ed, pfovea to he a citizen of the States. » ^ The Bishop, as I have remarked, wasnoi vilry dig* nified on all occasions, and sometimes actefi iii#icba manner as would not have appeared well i#|tablio. One day I saw him preparing for masal %id be« cause he had some difficulty in getting o&'ilti robes, showed evident signs of anger. One of^tbo nuns remarked : **^The Bishop is going to peilom a paa* aionate maaa." Soma of th% oihen ezoiaiinad : ^ Ja» ^ .am 100 Ainm onofcOfOMi %jft<. yoQ not ashamed to apeak thoa of my lordf*' And ahe waa rewarded witk a penanee. But it might be hoped that the Biabop would be free from the crimes of which I have declared so many priests to have been guilty. I am far from entertainiog sach charitable opiuioos of him ; and I bad good reaaons, after a time. I was often required to sleep on a sof a, in the room of the present Superior, as I may have already men- tioned* One night, not long after I was first introdaced there for that purpose, and within the first twelve months of my wearing the veil, having retired m usual, at about half-past nine, not lon^ after we had got into bed. the alarm-bell from without, which aafe over the Superior's bed, was rung. She told me to see who was there ; and going down, I heard the signal giyen, which I have before mentioned, a peculurkind of hissing sound made through the teeth. I answered with a low ** Hum— hum ;" and then opened the door. It was Bishop Lartique, the present Bishop of Montreal. He said to me, ** Are you a Korice or a Beceived P" meaning a Beceived nun. I answered, '* a Beceived.' He then requested me to conduct him to the Supe- rior's room, which I did. He went to the bed, drew ^he curtains behind him, and I lay down a^aiu upon the aofa, until morning, when the Superior called me, at an early hour, about daylight, and directed me to show him the door, to which I conducted him, and he took his departure. I continued to visit the eellar frequently, to carry up 0(N|1 for the fires, without anything move than a general imi^ression that there were two nuns some- where imprisoned in it. One day, while there on my usual errand, I aaw a nun standing on the right ol the cellar, in front of one of the cell domra I haid be- fore observed ; she waa apparently engaged with •Dmething within. This attrnQt^d w^ gtlentioo. The door fastened y end of wli the stonei which wf the stouei head. Ab with a fin baring be nun I ha■ m0 16S JLWFUL TftBOLOBOt^ tiniMy thongli there are aboatbne hundM fttid^f^ in the district of Montreal. There was a difference in their oondact : though I believe every one of them was guilt J of licentiousness ; while not one did I ever see who maintained a character any way be* coming the profession of a priest. Some were gross and degraded in a degree which few of my readers can ever have imagined : and I should be unwiliiDg to offend the eye, and corrupt the heart, of any one, by an account of their words and actions. Few ima- ginations can coDceive deeds so abominable as they practised, and often required of some of the poor women, under the fear of severe punishments, and even of death. I do not hesitate to say with the strongest confidence, that although some of the nuus became lost to every sentiment of virtue and honour, especially one of the Congregational Nunnery whom I have before mentioned, Saint Patrick, the greater part of them loathed the practices to which they were compelled to submit, by their Superior and priests, who kept them under so dreadful a bondage. Some of the priests whom I saw I never knew by name, and the names of others I did not learn for a time, and at last learnt only by accident. Thev were always called '^ Mou PSre,*' (my fa* ther,) but sometimes when they had purchased some- thing in the ornament-room, they would give their real names, with directions where it should be sent. Many names thus learnt, and in other ways, were whispered about from nun to nun, and became pretty generally known. Several of the priests some of us ad seen before we entered the Convent. 'Many things of which I speak, from the nature of the case, must necessarily rest chiefly upon my owu word, until further evidence can be obtained ; but ih^re are some facts for which I can appeal to the knowledge of others. It is commonly known iu Montreal that some of the priests ooca^maUy^ with* 4faw ^11^ thoir customary em|}lojfmoQti^ itud af^ n<4;tQl thai th tion, ai hearts, thewor This' it isai such a I which c the wor anceof the stre( of his de from thi as they ; by some known 1 personal JBourgec The p occasion sary, or ment. In the dation, hospital apart oi priests, \ 18 necesf thepretc Many si the nam HolylU theSup4 mostly c and thai lying up 0» MABU nous. 10ft wtUk be teen for some time : it being nnderstof^d et ibey have retired for religious stady, medita- I, and deyotion, for the improTement of tbeii^ hearts. Sometimes they are thus withdrawn from the world for three weeks : but there is no fixed period. This was a fact I knew before I took the veil ; for it is a frequent subject of remark, that such and such a Father is on a ** holv retreat," This is a term which couTeys the idea of a religious seclusion from the world, for sacred purposes. On the re-appear- ance of a priest after such a period, in the churcb or the streets, it is natural to feel a peculiar impression of his devout character—* an impression very different from that conveyed to the mind who knows matters as they really are. Suspicions have been indulged by some in Canada on this subject, and facts are known by at least a few. I am able to speak from personal knowledge ; for I have been a nun of Sosur Bourgeoise. The priests are liable, by their dissolute habits, to occasional attacks of disease, which render it neces* sary, or at least prudent, to submit to medical treat- ment. In the Black Nutinery they find private acoommo* dation, for they are free to enter one of the private hospitals whenever they please ; which is a room set apart on purpose for the accommodation of the priests, and is called a retreat-room. But an excuse IS necessary to blind the public, and this they find in the pretence they make of being in a ** Holy Betreat." Many such cases have I known ; and I can mention the names of priests who have been confined in this Holy Betreat, They are very carefully attended bf the Superior and ola nuns, and their diet eonsisw mostly of vegetable soups, &o., with but little menli and that fresh, I have seen an instrument of surgei^ Ijriug upon the table in that holy room, whidi is usea c»idy Ipr partioular purposes, ^^Hr fombeau, a Boman priest, was oniHIi ol / ' •^mmmm.^mmmmam nmj mfi m^ I ,.'v , 110 AVFVIr D: bis holy retreats about the time when I left the Kan- neiy. There are Bometimes a number oonfined there mt the same time. The victimt of these priests £re- quentij share the same fate. I have often reflected how grievoosly I had been deceiyed in mv opinions of a nun's condition ! — All the holiness of their lives, I now saw was merely pretended. The appearance of sanctity and heaven- ly-mindedness which thejphad shown among us no« ▼ices, I found was only « disguise to conceal such practices as would not be tolerated in any decent so- ciety in the world ; and as for joy and peace like that of heaven, which I had expected to find among them, I learnt too well that they did not exist there. The only way in which such tiioughts were coun- teracted, was by the constant instructions ^iven us by the Su^rior and priests, to regard every doubt as a mortal sin. Other faults we might have, as we were told over and over again, which though worthy of penances, were far less sinful than these. For a nim to doubt that she was doing her duty in fulfill- ing her tows and oaths, was a heinous offence, and we were exhorted always to suppress our doubts, to confess them without reserve, and cheerfully submit to severe penances on account of them, as the only means of mortifying our evil dispositions, and resist- ing the temptations of the deviL Thus we learnt in • good degree t(^ resist our minds and conscieitoes, when we felt the rising of a question about the duty of doing anything required of us. To enforce this upon us, they employ various means. Some of the most striking stories told us at catechism by the priests, were designed for this end. One of these I will repeat. *' One day," as a priest assured us, who was hearing us say the catechism on Saturday afternoon, '* as one Monsieur « « ♦ «, a well-known citizen of Montreal, was walking near tkt ^thedral, he saw Satan giving orders to innu- nmlilacTil spirits who wiste asiemhled aioimd wsnxttx 111 him. Beiniir afraid of being seen, and yet wishiifg to etierve what was done, Hhe hid himself wltere he ooiild observe all that passed. Satan despatched his devils to different parts of the dty, with direc« tioDS to do their best for him ; and they returned in a short time, bringing in reports of their success in leading persons of different classes to the com- mission of various sins, which they thought would be agreeable to their master. Satan, however, ez« pressed his dissatisfaction, and ordered them out again ; but Just then a spirit from the Black Kun- nery came, who had not been seen before, and stated that he had been trying for seven years to persuade one of the nuns to doubt, and had just succeeded. Satan received the intelligence with the highest plea* sure ; and turning to the spirits around nim, said : ^ Ton have not half done your work, — ^he has ^ne much more than all of you put together.' " In spite, however, of our instructions and warn- ings, our fears and penances, such doubts would ob- trude ; and I have often indulged them for a time, and at length, yielding to the belief that I was wrong iu giving place to them, would confess them, and un- dergo with cheerfulness such new penances as I was loaded with. Others too would occasionally enter- tain and privately express such doubts ; though we had all been most solemnly warned by the cruel mur- der of Saint Frances. Occasionally some of the nuns would go further, and resist the restraints of pun- ishments imposed upon them ; and it was not un* common to hear screams, sometimes of a most pierc- ing and terrific kind, from nuns suffering under dis* dpline. Some of my readers may feel disposed to exclaim against me, for believing things which will steike them as so monstrous and abominable. To such, I Would say, without pretending to justify myself,— you know little of the position in which I was plao 6d;i&the first place, ignorant of any othcdt iefi|^ I'mi It I '$ y; i •IPW^^WWPr .i - u« kynvL jutsox/nBtnLTM ■,j •Qi doctrfneff, and in the second, met at every mo* meat by tome iugenions argument, and the ezamp|e of a large oommunity, who received all the Inetroo- . tions of tiie priests as of undoubted truth, and prac- tised upon them. Of the variety and speciousness of the arguments used, you cannot have any oor- reot idea* Thev were often so ready with replies, examples, anecdotes, and authorities, to enforce their doctrines, that it seemed to me as if they could never have learnt it all from books, but must have been taught by wicked spirits. Indeed, when I reflect up- on their conversations, I am astonished at their art and address, and find it difficult to account for their subtlety and success in influencing my mind, and persuading me to anything they pleased. It seems to me that hardly anybody would be safe in their hands* If you were to go to confession twice, I be- lieve you would feel very different from what you do now* Thej^ have such a way of avoiding one thing and speaking of another, of affirming this, and doubting and disputing that, of quoting authori- ties, and speaking of wonders and miracles recently performed, in confirmation of what they teach, as xamiliirly known to persons whom they call by name, and whom they pretend to offer as witnesses, though they never give you an opportunity to speak with them,— these, and many other means, they use in such a way, that they always blinded my mind, t^it I should think, would blind the minds of others. CHAPTER XVI, Treatment oi young Infants in the Convent— Talking in Sleep— Amusements— Ceremonies at the public Inter- ment of deceased Nuns— Sudden disappearance of the Old Superior— Introduction of the new one— Supersti- tion — Alarm of a nun — Dii&culty of Communication with other Nuns. f It will be recollected, that I was informed immedi- ately after receiving the veil| that infants were oo- casfom day in opport such a death < childre who wi while t rior an never I The] and cal at a tim priest 1 good-lo Profes8( heads o tism. Vi taken, c the pres on the E could nc hand w< other, ai was hea {Ifreatest mg this accustoi then tak have me I after same m this see stances, culiarly injrs. .These witnesse oident th 174 6Y tfARXii VOKX. in Ire 00- eatioiially mnrclered in the Oonvent. t watoM day in the nun's priyate sick room, when I had an opportunity unsought for, of witnessinff deeds of such a nature. It was, perhaps, a montn after the death of St. Frances. Two little twin bahes, the children of St. Catherine, were^ brought to a priesiL who was in the room, for baptism. I was present while the ceremony was performed, with the Snpe* rior and several of the old nuns, whose names I never knew, they being called Ma tante (Aunt.) The priests took turns in attendinp^ to confession and catechism in the Convent, usually three months at a time, though sometimes longer periods* The priest then on duty was Father Larkin. He is a good-looking European, and has a brother who is a Professor in the College. He first put oil upon the heads of the infants, as is the custom before bap- tism. When he had baptised the children, they were taken, one after another, by one of the old nuns, in the presence of us all. She pressed her hand up- on the mouth and nose of the first so tight that it could not breathe, and in a few minutes, when the hand was removed, it was dead. She then took the other, and treated it in the same way. No sound was heard, and both the children were corpses. The {greatest indifference was shown by all present dur^ log this operation ; for all, as I well knew, were long accustomed to such scenes. The little bodies were then taken into the cellar, thrown into the pit I have mentioned, and covered with a quantity of lime. I afterwards saw a new-bom infant treated in the same manner, in the same place ; but the actors in this scene I choose not to name, nor th^ circum- stances, as every thing connected with it is of a pe- culiarly trying and painful nature to my own fed* ings. These were the only instances of infanticide I witnessed ; and it seemed to be merely owing to ac- cident that I was then present. So far as I laiofT 174 H -i ihcve were bo pamt taken to preserve 'Meraoy on ' tbii snbjeot ; that is, I saw no attempt made to keep any inmate of the Oonyeut in ignorance of the mur- der of the children. On the contrary, othere were told, as well as myself, ou their first admission as ^veiled nuns, that all infants bom in the place were baptised and killed, without loss of time^ and I had been called to witness the murder of the three just mentioned, only because I happened ta be in the room at the time. That others were killed in the same manner, dur- ing my stay in the nunnery, I am well assured. How many there were I cannot tell, and havinff taken no account of those I heard of, I cannot speak with precision ; I believe, however, that I learnt ttiroagh nnns, that at least eighteen or twenty in« fonts were smothered, and secretly buried in the cel- lar, while I was a nun. One of the effects of the weariness of onr bodies and minds, was our proneness to talk in our sleep. It was both ludicrous and painful to hear the nuns repeat their prayers in the course of the ni|i;ht, as tl^y |requently did in their dreams. Bequired to keep onr minds continually on the stretch, both in watching our conduct, in remembering the rules and our prayers, under the fear of the consequences of any neglect, when we closed our eyes in sleep, we often went over again the Bcenes of t}ie day ; and it was nojuncommon thin? for me to hear a nun re- peat one or two of her lon^r exercises in the dead of the night. Sometimes by the time she had finished, another, in a different part of the room, would hap- pen to take a similar turn, and commence a similar recitation ; and I have known cases in Which several snch unconscious exercises were performed, all with- iir an hour or two. We had now and then a recreation day, when we were relieved from our customary labour, and from prayers except thoae for moniing and eteningi and th4 dock. pied wi and ilrti relate t vent. terrupt priests, fSte, th kept b^ oey»i in the there v say mai nery. very lai sick-roG chapel. Whei as if li posture^ book in ly admit and pra I behevi such a CI Theli the de\i\ being ii she is nc sion, oui away, at some of the souh them. It wai foreade often pel for the( ,^F^- , Of HABu uxanL ^.118 ron :eep Bur- fere 1 as vrere had just the dur- • ipeak earnt y in- e eel- bodies sleep, nuns ;ht, as red to othin Bsand ces of ip, we and it n re- eadot lislied, dhap- limilar everal with- len we from reningt ftiid the short ones said at eveij strikinnf of tha olook. The frreater part of our time was then ooeii- pied with different games, particularly backgaminoii and draughts, and in such conyersation as did not relate to our past lives, and the outside of the Con- vent. Sometimes, however, ou reports would be in* terru)>ted on such days by the entrance of one of the priests, who would c me in and propose that his fdte, the birthday of his patron saint, ahonld be kept by *Hhe saints." We saints! Several nuns died at different times while I was in the Couvent; how many, I cannot say, but there was a considerable number. I might rather say mauy iu proportion to the number in the nun« nery. The proportion of deaths I am sure was yery large. There were always some in the nuns* sick-room, and several interments took place in the chapel. When a Black Nun is dead, the corpse is dressed as if livin?, and placed iu the chapel in a sitting posture, within the railing round the altar, with a book in hand as if reading. Persons are then free* ly admitted from the street, and some of them read and pray before it. No particular notoriety is giyen, I believe, to this exhibition out of the Oonventi but such a case usually excites some attention. The living nutis are required to say prayers for the delivery of their deceased sister from purgatory, being informed, as in all other such cases, that if she is not there, and has no need of our interces- sion, our prayers are in no danger of being thrown away, as they will be set down to the account of some of our deceased friends, or at least to that of the souls which have no acquaintances to pray for them. It was customary for us occasionally to kneel be* fore a dead nun thus seated in the chapel, and I haye often performed that task. It was always paiof uL for the ghastly eounteuanoe being seen whenerer X uto 116 AWTtTL BtSOLOStTSIES ritised my eyes, and thefeelitif^ that the position and dress were entirely opposed to every idea of pro« priety in such a case, always made me melancholy. The Superior sometimes left the Oonvent, and was absent for an hour, or several hours at a time, but we never knew of it until she had returned, and were not informed where she had been, I one day had reason to presume that she had recently paid a visit to the priests' farm, though I had not direct evidence that such was the fact. The priests' farm is a fine tract of land belonging to the Seminary, a little distance from the city, near the Lachine road, with a large old-fashioned edifice upon it. I hap- pened to be in the Superior's room on the day allud- ed to, when she made some remark on the plainness and poverty of her furniture. I replied that she was not proud, and could not be dissatisfied on that ac» count: she answered,— ** No : but if I was, how much superior is the furniture at the priests' farm ; the poorest room there is furnished better than the best of mine." I was one day mending the fire in the Superior's room, when a priest was cofi versing with her on the scarcity of money ; and I heard him sav that very little money was received by the priests for prayers, but that the principal part came with penances and absolutions. One of the most remarkable and unaccountable things that happened in the Convent, was the dis- lippearance of the old Superior. She had performed her customary part during the day, and had acted and appeared just as usual. She had shown no symp- toms of ill health, met with no particular difficulty in conducting business, and no agitation, anxiety, or gloom had been noticed in her conduct. We had no reason to suppose that during that day she had ex- pected anvthing particular to occur, any more thau the rest of us. After the close of our customary la- tK>ars and evening lectures, she dismimed us to retirs ; • I'ijfi ingth on oui munit ingles hopL seen. > and ii preseu vent, fl obedie The est nui with s\ walkin word V the cau Superic one of become self, th^ by ordc on her howevc private tunitiei usual, c withou than ai She spo said, " ; old Sup "Hu "you'll «My to beat Itcai stitioua by ttua OF HIBIA XOITK. ii7 and >ro- )ly. was but and day lid a irect (arm ry,a road, hap- llud- Qnesa 9 waa it ao« , how farm ; in the jrior's m the t very ayers, 98 and itable le dis- ormed acted symp- ficulty ety, or ladno adex- •e than ary la- retire to bfldi exactly in her nsaal manner. The next morn- iog the bell rang, we sprang from our beds, hanied en our clothes^ as usual, and proceeded to. the com- munity-room in double line, to commence the morn- ing: exercises. There, to our surprise, we found Bis- hop Lartique ; but the Superior was nowhere to be seen. The Bishop soon addressed us, instead of her, and informed us, that a lady near him, whom lie presented to us, was now the Su^ erior of the Cou- Tent, and enjoined upon us the same respecl^ mi^ obedience which we paid to her predecessor. The lady he introduced to us was one of our old- est nuns, Saint Du***, a very large, fleshy woman, with swelled limbs, whiZiCQ[08UBS8 OonTent; and I might have supposed so, had I not some time afterwards found some of her things ly« ing ahon^ which she would, in suoh a case, douht- less hare taken with her. I had never known any- thing^more of her than what I could obserre or con- jecture. I had always, however, the idea that her parents or friends were wealthy, for she sometimes received clothes and other things which were very rich. Another nun named St. Paul, died suddenly, but as in other cases, we knew so little, or rather were so entirely ignorant of the cause and circumstances, that we could only conjecture ; and being forbidden to speak freely upon that or any other subject, thought little about it. I have mentioned that a nnmber of veiled nuns thus mysteriously disappear- ed during mv residence among them. I cannot per- haps recall them all, but I am confident there were at many as five, and I think more. All that we knew in each cases was, that one of our number who ap. pearedas usual when last observed, was nowhere to 06 seen, and never seen again. — Mad Jane Bav, on •efveral such occasions, would indulge in her bold, and, as we thought, dangerous remarks. She had Intimated that some of those, who had been for some time in the Convent, were by some means removed to make room for new ones ; and it was generally the fact, that the disappearance of one and the intro- daction of another into our community, were neai^ at the same time. I have repeatedly heard Jane BnQr say, with one of her significant looksy '* When you mpvear^ somebody else disappears 1'* It is unpleasant enough to distress or torture one's •elf ; but there is something worse in being torment- ed by others, especially when they resort to force, and show a pleasure in compelling you, and leave vou no hope to escape, or opportunity to resist. I had seen the gags repeatedly in use, and sometimes ap- plied with a roughness which seemed rather inha^ 07 HASZA. XONX. 121 man ; trat it is one thiniif to see ttnd another thii^ta feel. Thef were ready to reoommelDd a resort ta* compnlsory measures, and ever ready to run for the gags. These were kept in oue of the community- rooms, in a drawer between two closets; and there a stock of about fifty of them were always kep^in deposit. Sometimes a number of nuns would prove refractory at a time ; and I have seen battles oom* menced in which several appeared on both sides. The disobedient were, however, soon overpowered |- and to prevent their screams beins heard beyond th« walls, gagging commenced immediately. I have seen half a dozen lying gagged and bound at once. I have been subjected to the same state of invo- luntary silence more than once ; for sometimes I be« came excited to a state of desperation by the measures used against me, and then conducted myself in a manner perhaps not less violent than some others. My hands have been tied behind me, and a gag put into my mouth, sometimes with such force and rude- ness as to separate my lips, and cause the blood to flow freely. Treatment of this kind is apt to teach submission; and many times I have acquiesced under orders re- ceived, or wishes expressed, with a fear of a recur- rence to some severe measures. One day I had incurred the auger of the Superior in a greater degree than usual, and it was ordered that I should be taken to one of the cells. I wat taken by some of the nuns, bound and gagged, car- ried down the stairs into the cellar, and laid upon the floor. Not long afterwards I induced one of the nuns to request the Superior to come down and see me; and on making some acknowledgment, I was released. I will, however, relate this story rather more in detail. On that day I had been engaged with Jane Bay, in carrying into effect a plan of revenge upon ano- ther person, when I fell under the viudictive spirit ol r^- ^^p**-' r--- ir ▲\7FUL ZnSOEiOSUBSS I S'-^- •oma of tlie old ahimi, and suffered seirerel j. Tfai Snqpeiior ordered me to the celle, and a soena of tio* lence oommenoed which I will not attempt to de- ■osbe, nor the precise circumBtancee which led to it. Soffioa it to say, that after I had exhausted all my Btreiigth» by resistiD^ as lon^ as I could, against sev- eral nuns, I had my hands drawn behind my back, a leathern band passed first round my thumbs, then round niy hands, and then round my waist and fast- ened. This was drawn so tight that it cut through the flesh of my thumbs, making wounds, the scars of which still remain. A gag was then forced into my mouth, not indeed so violeiitiy as it sometimes wa8« but roughly enough ; after which I was takeu by main force, and carried down into the cellar, across it almost to the opposite extremity, and brought to the last of the second range of cells on the left hand. .'I^e>^door was opened, and I was thrown in with vio- leaM, and left alone, the door being immediately ddlld* and bolted on the outside. The bare ground wasoaderme, cold and hard as if it had been beaten eTeD* I lay still in the position in which I had fallen, as it would have been difficult for me to move, con- flned as I was, and exhausted by my exertions ; and the shock of my fall, and my wretched state of des- peration and fear, disinclined me from any further attempt. I was in almost total darkness, there being Bpthing perceptible except a slight glimmer of light which oamein through thelittle window far above me. How long I remained in that condition I can only oonjecture. It seemed to me a long time, and must have been two or thi^ hours. I did not move, ex- pecting to die there, and in a state of distress which I eanuot describe, from the tight bondage about my haiidf, and the gag holding my jaws apart at their gMCest extention. I am confident I must have died Mora morning, i^ as I then expected, I had been le^ tbera all night. By-and-bye, Jiowever, tbt^ I oit ^8 drawn, th^ door opened, and jane Bay spoke to me in a tone of kindness. She] lar mil thegafl would 1 If shell not hail reseute herself her for told he: ed to SI condesc before 1 the sigl the affij ou the ] duct, st of all tl my beh was the went u] fore all nessau Amoi receive! left by myself, are moc which tended points] au^aiust wouudi Myt tight di and sea Thei wound< taut O. . fp ■sj^_: 09 lUBU icoant. 12* SUe had taken an opportanity to dip into the cel^ lar nnnotioedj on purpose to see me. 8ho nnbound the ffajir, took it out of my moutb, and told meiahe would do any thing to get me out of the dtti||i|pii» lif she had had the bringiug of me dovRi she iBsld not have thrust me in so brutally, and she wouM Ibe reseated on those who had. She offered to tkrow herself upon her knees before the Superior, and %eg her forgiveness. To this I would not consent ; but told her to ask the Superior to come to me, as I wish- ed to speak to her. This I had no idea she would condescend to do ; but Jane had not been goue long before the Superior came, and asked if I repented in the sight of God for what I had done. I replied in the affirmative ; and after a lecture of some length on the pain I had given the Virgin Mary bymy ooii- duct, she asked whether I was willing to ask naftlon of all the nuns for the scandal I had caused tni my behaviour. To this I made no objection ; was then released from my prison ,and my 1 went up to the oommunity«roi>m, and kneelkig Ife* fore all the sisters in sucoessioUi^ bogged theflorgit^ uess and prayers of each. Among the malrks which I still bear of the woundi received from penances and violence, are the soars left by the belt with which I repeatedly tortured myself, for the mortification of my spirit. These are most distiuct on my side : for although the band* which was four or five inches in breadth, and et» tended round the waist, was stuck full of sharp iron points in all parts, it was sometimes crowded m6st aii^aiust my side, by resting in my chair, and then tbX80LO81T1lRII thoughts, until I saw aiioommon moTementf in some parts of the Nunnery, aud ascertained, to mj own satisfaction, that there was a larfife quantity ox ^n- powder stored in some secret place within the walls, and that some of it was removed, or prepared for use, under the direction of the Superior. Penances*— IhAve mentioned seyeral penances in different parts of this narration, which we sometimes had to perform. There is a ereat variety of them ; and, while some, though trifling in appearance, he- came very painful, by long endurance or frequent re- petition, others are severe in their nature, and never would he submitted to, unless, through fear of some- thing worse, or a real belief in their efficacy to re- move guilt. I will mention here such as I recollect, which can be named without offending a virtuous ear; for some there were, which, although I have been compelled to submit to, either by a misled con- science, or the fear of severe punishment, now that I am better able to judge of my duties, and at liberty to net, I would not mention or describe. Kissing the floor is a very common penance; kneeling and kissing the feet of the other nuns is another; as are kneeling on hard peas, and walking with them in the shoes. We had repeatedly to walk on our knees through the subterranean passage, leading to the Congregational Nunnery ; and some- times to eat our meals with a rope round our necks. Sometimes we were fed only with such things as we most disliked. Garlic was given to me on this ac- count, because I had a strong antipathy against it. Eels were repeatedly given some of us, because we felt an unconquerable repugnance to them, on ac- count of reports we heard of their feeding on dead carcases in the river St. Lawrence. It was no un- common thing for us to be required to drink the water in which the Superior had washed her feet. Sometimes we were required to brand ourselves with a hot iron, i|o as to leave scars ; at other times, to wMp( apriv with 1 of the One time m Saviov Roadi consist tion ol Thisw and fa each til cumsta place o to sleei us but- of wind the Sue Weh full of the upp they pe Some seemed were ii showed often re by exclj Nevei for a lot to be ap was put Frances, were fo sizes. 1 is a dra^ munity* one of t 174 •: 0? KAiitA ttome. 120 wTiip our naked flesh with seTeral small rodi, befura a prirate altar, until we drew blood. I oan assert, with the perfect knowledge of the fact, that many of the nuns bear the scars of these wounds. One of the penances was to stand for a length of time with our arms extended, in imitation of the Saviour on the Cross. The Chemin de la craix, or Boad to the Cross, is, in fact, a penance, though it consists of H variety of prostrations, with the repeti« tion of manv prayers, occupying two or three hours. This we had to perform frequently going in chapeL and falling before each chapelle in succession, at each time commemorating some particular act or cir* cumstance reported of the Saviour's progress to the place of his crucifixion. Sometimes we were obliged to sleep on the floor in the winter, with nothing over us but a single sheet ; and sometimes to chew apiece of window glass to a flne powder, in the presence of the Superior. We had sometimes to wear a leathern belt stuck full of sharp metallic points, round our waists and the upper part of our arms, bound on so tight that they penetrated the flesh, and drew blood. Some of the penances were so severe, that they seemed too much to be endured : and when they were imposed, the nuns who were to suffer them showed the most violent repugnance. They would often resist, and still of tener express their opposition by exclamations and screams. * Never, however, was any noise heard froi^ them for a long time, for there was a remedy always ready to be applied in cases of the kind. The gag which was put into the mouth of the unfortunate Saint Frances, had been brought from a place where there were forty or fifty others of different shapes and sizes. These I have seen in their depository, which is a drawer between two closets, in one of the com* munitv-rooms. Whenever any loud noise was madei one of these instruments was demanded| and gag- 174 I 130 AWTtTL DXSOLOStntCS I ging oommenced at ouce. I have known inan7 in- stances, and sometimes five or six nuns gagged at once. Sometimes they would become so much ex- cited before they could be bound and gagged, that considerable force was necessary to be exerted ; and I have seen the blood flowing from^ mouths into which the gag had been thrust with violence. Indeed I ought to know something of this depart- ment of nunnery discipline ; I have had it tried upon myself, and can bear witness that it is not only most humiliating and oppressive, but of ten extremely pain- ful. The mouth is kept forced open, and the strain- ing of the jaws at their utmost stretch, for a consi- derable time, is very distressing. One of the worst punishments which I ever saw inflicted, was that with the cap ; and yet some of the old nuns were permitted to inflict it at their pleasure. I have repeatedly known them to go for a cap, when one of our number had transgressed a rule, some- times though it were a very unimportant one. These caps were kept in a cupboard in the old nuns' room, whence they were brought when wanted. They were small, made of a reddish looking lea- ther, fitted closely to the head, and fastened under the chin with a kind of buckle. It was the common practice to tie the nun's hands behind, and gag her before the cap was put on, to prevent noise and re- sistance. I never saw it worn by any one for a mo- ment, without throwing them into severe sufferings. If permitted, they would scream in the most shock- ing manner, and always writhed as much as their confinement would allow. I can speak from per- sonal knowledge of this punishment, as I have en- dured it more than once ; and yet I have no idea of the cause of the pain. I never examined one of the caps, nor saw the inside, for they are always brought and taken away quickly ; but although the first sen- sation was that of coolness, it was hardly put on my bead before a violent and indisoribable sensation be- ov Ttuxu. itomt. 181 f'tw ■^VL >art- ipon most paia- rain- ipnd- c Baw of the asure. when Bome- These room, pran, like that of a blister, ouly muoli more foBtipport- able: and thiB co)i tinned until it was remoyed. It would produce sucii an acute pain as to throw ub in« to oonyulsioQB, and I think no human being could, endure it for an hour. After thiB puniBhmeut, w& felt itB effect through the eystem for man^ daysf Having once known what it wae by expenence, I held the cap in dread, and whenever I waB condemn* ed to suffer the punishment again, felt ready to do anything to avoid it. But when tied and gaggled, with the cap on my bead again, I could onljr aink upon the floor, and roll about in anguish until it was taken off. ThiB waB usually done in about ten minutoB, some- times less, but the pain always continued in my head for several dayo. I thought that it might take awav a person's reason if kept on a much longer time, it I had not been gagged, I am sure I should have ut- tered awful screams. I have felt the effects for a week. Sometimes fresh cabbage leaves were applied to my head to remove it. Having had no opportu- nity to examine my head, I connot say more. CHAPTER XVm. The punishment of the Cap— The prists of the district of Montreal have free access to the Black Nunnery— Crimes committed and required by them— The Pope's command to commit indecent crimes - Characters ot the old and new Superiors -The timidity of the latter— I began to be employed in the hospitals—Some account of them— Warning given me by a sick nun— Penance of hanging. This punishment was occasionally resorted to for verv trifling offences, such as washiog the hands without permission ; and it was generally applied on the spot, and before the other nuns in comma* nitv-rooms. I have mentioned before, that the oountry, so far down as the Three Bivers, is furnished with priests ^1 ^^M^^tn i^ »^\ w9 3^'^ ■3**1 - ■--v*d|[ ,^ K'irjp ^^M Hp.% J^l &^j?.s-!h oi M^ *Kyi 'M r*ss>r U% XWVtfL BtdO^SOUKS l^y the Seminary of Montreal ; and that tliese hun- dred and fifty men are liable to be oocasionally trans- ferred from one station to another. Numbers of them are often to be seen in the streets of Montreal, as they may find a home in the Seminary. They are considered as having an equal right to enter the Black Nunnery whenever they please ; and then, according to our oaths, they have complete con- trol over the nuns. To name all the works of shame of which they are guilty in tl»at retreat, would re- quire much time and space, neither would it be ne- cessary to the accomplishment of my object, which isy the publication of but some of their criminality to the world, and the development, in general terms, of scenes thus far carried on in secret within the walls of that Convent, where I was so long an inmate. Secure against detection by the world, they never believed that an eye-witness would ever escape to tell of their crimes, and declare some of their names before the world ; but the time has come, and some of their deeds of darkness must come to the day. I have seen in the Nunnery, the priests from more, I presume, than a hundred country places, admitted for shamefuland criminal purposes; from St. Charles, St. Deuis, St. Mark's, St. Antoine^ Chambly, Bertier, St. John's, &c. How unexpected to them will be the disclosures I make ! Shut up in a place from which there has been thought to be but one way of egress, and that the passage to the grave, they considered themselves Bsie in perpetrating crimes in our presence, and in making us share in their criminality as often as they ohose, and conducted more shamelessly than even the brutes. These debauchees would come in without oere- SDony, ooncealing their names, both by night and day. Being within the walls of that prison-house of death, where the cries and pains of the injoxed innocence 9i their mtims would never xeaoh toe world, toi re« OF KABUL HOKX. 183 lief or redrMS for their wrongs, without remorse or shame, the^^ would glory^ not only in sating their brotal passions, but even m torturing, in the most barbarous manner, the feelings of those under their power ; telling us at the same time, that this morti- fying the flesh was religion, and pleasincr to Qod. The more they could torture us, or make us violate our own feelings, the more pleasure they took in their unclean revellinpr ; and all their brutal obscen- ity they called meritorious before God. We were sometimes invited to put ourselves to vo> luntary sufferings in a variety of ways, not for a penance, but to show our devotion to God. A priest would sometimes say to us — ** Now, which of you have love enough for Jesus Christ to stick a pin through your cheeks P" Some of us would signify our readiness, and imme^ diately thrust one through up to the head. Some> times ne would propose that we should repeat tlie operation several times on the spot ; and the cheeks of a number of the nuns would be bloody. There were other acts occasionally proposed and consented to, which I cannot name in a book. Such the Superior would sometimes command us to per- form ; many of them, thin^^s not only useless and unheard of, but loathsome and indecent in the hi(me. wo Ipur- out If lotbe 09 ttAlttl icom. 141 1 havebeeu repeatedly employed in carrying dain- ties of different kinds into the little private room I have mentioned, next beyond the Buperior'a sitting- room, in the second story, which the priests made their ** Holy Reireaf" That room I never was al- lowed to enter. I could onljr go to the door with a waiter of refreshments, set it down upon a little stand near it, give three raps on the door, and then retire to a distance to await orders. When any- thing was to be taken away, it was placed on the stand by the Superior, who then gave three raps for me, and closed the door. The Bishop I saw at least once, when he appeared worse for wine, or something of the kind. After partaking of refreshments in the Convent, he sent for all the nuns, and on our appearance, gave us his blessiug, and put a piece of pound cake on the shouU der of each of us, in a manner which appeared sin- gular and foolish. There are three rooms in the Black Nunnery, which I never entered. I had en- joyed much liberty, and had seen, as I supposed, all parts of the building, when one day I observed an old nun go to a corner of an apartment ne&r the northern end of the western wing, push the end of her scissors into a crack in the panelled wall, and pull out a door. I was much surprised, because I never had conjectured that any door was there; and it appeared, when I afterwards examined the place, that no indication of it could be discovered on the closest scrutiny. I stepped forward to see what was within, ana saw three rooms opening into each other ; but the nun refused to admit me with« in the door, which she said led to rooms kept as de« positories. She herself entered and dosed the door, so that I could not satisfy my curiosity ; and no occasion pre- sented itself. I always had a strong desire to know the use of these apartments ; for 1 am sure thev most have been designed for tome purpose of whica 143 ▲WFITL I>XSCIX>8UUE8 I was intentionally kept id^norant, otherwise they neTer would haye remained unknown to me so lon|(. Besides, the old nun evidently had some strong rea- son for deny ingr me admission, though she endea- Toured to quiet my curiosity. The Superior, after my admission into the Oon- ▼ent, had told me I had access to eyery room in the building ; and I had seen places which bore wit- ness to the cruelties and the crimes committed un- der her commands or sanction ; but here was a suo- oession of rooms which had been concealed from me, and so constructed as if designed to be un« known to all but a few. I am sure that any per- son, who might be able to examine the wall in that place, would pronounce that secret door a surpri- sing piece of work. I neyer saw anything of the kind which appeared to me so ingenious and skil- fully made. I told Jane Bay what I had seen, and she said at once, '* We will get in and see what is there." But I suppose she neyer found an oppor- tunity. I naturally felt a good deal of curiosity to learn whether such soenes, as I had witnessed in the death of Saint Frances, were common or rare, and took an opportunity to inquire of Jane B^^y. Her reply '*0h, yes; and there were many murdered while yon were a noyice, wliom you heard nothing about.*' This was all I ever learnt on this subject ; but although I was told nothing of the manner in which they were killed, I suppose it to be the same which I had seen practised, namely, by smothering. I went into the Superior s parlour one day for something, and found Jane Bay there alone, looking into a book with an appearance of interest. I asked her what it was, but she made some trifling answer, and laid it by as if unwilling to let me take it. There are two bookcases in the room ; one on the right as yoa Miter the door, and the other opposite, near the tu se< II lid' ser loo unc the my S< sent it; shei con8< erali near] twoi cular as I lookei Th« ance, very I Ididi that i Would ,Ith< I stiJI : that th and no had tal descrip lowing real, bu Saint Saint Saint Worn 1^^ Ba- oa- on- the nt- un- (UO- rom un- per- that rpri- the skil- , and latis )por- learn eath took Ireply oy ItARIA ICONS. window and tliu sofa. The former contains the lec- ture books and other printed volumes, the latter seemed to be filled with note and account books. I have often seen the keys in the bookcases while I have been dusting the furniture, and sometimes ob- served letters stuck up in the room ; although I never looked into one, or thought of doing so. We were under strict orders not to touch any of them, and the idea of sins and penances was always presentin my mind. Some time after the occasion mentioned, I was sent into the Superior's room with Jane, to arrange it ; and as the same book was lyin^ out of the case, she said, ** Gome let us look into it." I immediately consented, and we opened it, and turned over sev« eral leaves. It was about a foot and a half lonj?, as nearly as I can remember, a foot wide, and about two inches thick, though I cannot speak with parti- cular precision, as Jane frightened me almost as soon as I touched it, by exclaiming, ** There, you have looked into it, and if you tell of me, I will of you.'* The thought of being subjected to a severe pen. ance, which I had reason to apprehend, fluttered me very much ; and, although I tried to cover my fears, I did not succeed very well. I reflected, however, that ihe siu was already committed, and l^hatit would not be increased if I examined the book. I therefore looked a little at several pages, though I still felt a good deal of agitation. 1 saw at once that the volume was a record of the entrance of nuns and novices into the Convent, and of the births that bad taken place in the Convent. Entries of the last description were made in a brief manner, on the foU lowing plan : I do not give the names or dates aa real, but only to show the form of entering them. Saint Mary, delivered of a son, March 16, 1834. Saint Glance „ daughter, April 2. Saint Matilda „ daughter, April 30, fto. Ko mentioa wai made in the book of the deatUh of * lU AWFUL DISCLOSUilES the children, ihongh I well knew not lone of them could be living at that time. Now I presume that the period the book embraced was about two years, as several names near the be. einniog I knew ; but I can form only a rough con- jecture of the number of infants born, and murder- ed, of course, records of which it contained. I sup- pose the book contained at least one hundred pages, and one fourth were written upon, and that each page contained fifteen distinct records. Several pages were devoted to the list of births. On this sup. Josition there must have been a large number, which can easily believe to have been bom there in the course of two years. What were the contents of the other books be- longing to the same case with that which I had look- ed into, I have no idea, having never dared to touch one of them ; I believe, however, that Jane Bay was well acquainted with them, knowing, as I do, her intelligence and prying disposition. If she could he brought to give her testimony, she would doubtless unfold many curious particulars now unknown. I am able, in consequence of a circumstance which appeared accidental, to state with confidence the ex- act number of persons in the Convent one day of the week in which I left it. This may be a point of some interest, as several deaths had occurred since my taking the veil, and many burials had been openly made in the chapel. I was appointed, at the time mentioned, to lay out the covers for all the inmates of the Convent, includ- iufif the nuns in the cells. These covers, as I have said before, were linen bands, to be bound around the knives, forks, spoons, and napkins, for eating. These were for all the nuns and novices, and amounted to two hundred and ten. As the number of novices was then about thirty, I know that there must have been at that time about one hundred and eighty vailed nuns. I was ocoaaionallj troubled wiUi a desire of escap- them traced babe, bcon- urder- I sup- pages, kt each Several is sap- which in the ks be- 1 look- > touch Eiy was io, her >uld be ubtlesa rn. ) which the ex- r of the )f some ice my openly lay out iudud- \ I have and the , These nted to ices was TO been )dnuDB. lesoap- % lK)m thttf Kunner OF JOBIA Moim. > .m^ 79 and much U6 led -:"•«.* swieved that it w«?t*'?'"'*"» "'•• in my did not fail to confe«« «t^S! * ""' » Sf"** «'n. ml felt discontent. My ^n**'!**^ .opportunity, tLrt I had beguQ to pray to SaiSt Anfh'"'^*'"'"'"'*, that he intercession would, by-and h^^"-^' *"<* ^oped his •pint. My desir« n# «. °J^' **'"^« «way the B»ii thefearofb^iSlf;an^SWhP*'"J ««^t^S of "y companions: or of teki»^^ murderous hani lent effects I too Well knew '^ ^^^ ^''"w vio- tions I made to dit^Jthaty^^'l """* what exeiC nnayailing. Dunne eyenwl^°"«''*P'°^ed ent^f; occupied with it ; l„d wh°n tC??"" ^ *«<«"»« q^S ti!^'''*^V°'*«»'<» ""alli^gttol^?^ *" meditation though I was a (rood d«« i *?;• * "1°^®' " I often did oulty in keepinp awake wk^"®**. I found no diffi.' over, and the ofher^Sns JI^^\ *•"» ««'cise *„ ing aloie, reflected a C^f"P°" *•>« «>'«. Md be. es«.pin^ which had occSl""*«*>'' themaunw^ had arriyed a little beforrat h.S** ^*"» PhysiciiS had now to accompany hlm^»''-P"teiffkt;an« hed, with pen, ink and^f.. "usual from bed to 1 140 XWFVL DiSOLOStTBfiS my customary way was to note down briefly his or- ders, in this manner — 1 d. salts, St. Matilde. 1 blister, St. Genevieve, &o. I remember that I wrote ttiese orders that evening, and then, having finished the rounds, I returned for a few moments to the sitting-room. There were two ways of access to the street from those rooms; first, the more direct, from the passage adjoining the sick-room down stairs, through a door, into the Nunnery-yard, and through a wicker gate : that is the way by which the physician usually en- ters at night, and he is provided with a key for that purpose. It would have been unsafe, however, for me to pass out that way, because a man is kept continually in the yard, near the gate, who sleeps at night in a small hut near the door, to escape whose observation would be impossible. My only hope, therefore, was, that I might gain my passage through the other way, to do which I must pass through the sick-room, then through a passage, or small room usually occupied by an old nun ; another passage and staircase lead- ing down to the yard, and a large gate opening into the cross street. I had no liberty to go beyond the sick-room, and knew that several of the doors might be fastened ; still I determined to try ; although I have often since been astonished at my boldness in undertaking what would expose me to so many ha- Eards of failure, and to severe punishment if found out. It seemed as if I acted under some extraordinary impulse, which encouraged me to what I should hardly at anv other moment have thought of under- taking. I had sat but a short time upon the sofa, however, before I rose with a desperate determina- tion to make the experiment. I therefore walked hastily across the sick room, passed into the nun's loonii walked by her in a great huny, and almost iipmi*iiy.yiii i"wii mivni <>*• arAnu Wk, Uf without piWn» her tim^ ♦ ^^^ message J" and in « • ® **^ ^Pea^^ or thinl- .o,-j « "•y hurried '^X^""«t J «nd it i/^wblM!? mislead them • /nd ff ' ^^'^^^ n^ay have *!!!i 5 *^® doors, with all whf nh t °®^ reached had ifi!* . opposite side left acquainted ; that o^^l^ I should hRr« i:!?u?.^°*<^. a communitir.L^** ^, *he ■» where deemed necessarv «.?^l**°*^®» comprise aII 4i. x , mat- 148 AWrtTL DISCLOSmtES ron, engaged in ftewinpr, when that Irish woman, employed lu the institution, eame in and told me that Mr. Oonroy was below, and had sent to see me. I Was informed that he was a Boman priest, who often ▼isited the house, and he had a particular wish to see me at that time ; having come, as I believe, ex- T ressly for that purpose. I showed unwillingness to comply with such an invitation, and did not go. The woman told me, further, that he sent me word that I need not think to avoid him, for it would be impossible for me to do so, I might conceal myself as well as I could, but I should be found and taken. No matter where I went, or what hiding-place I might choose, I should be known ; and I had better come at once. He knew who I was ; and he was au- thorized to take me to the Sisters of Charity, if I should prefer to join them. He would promise that I might stay with them if I chose, and be permitted to remain in New York. He sent me word further that he had received full power and authority over Se from the Superior of the Hotel Dieu Nunnery at Montreal, and was able to do all that she oould do ; as her right to dispose of me at her will had been imparted to him by a regular writing received from Canada. This was alarming information for me, in the weakness in which I was at that time. The wo- man added, that the same authority had been given to all the priests ; so that go where I might I should meet men informed about me and my escape, and folly empowered to seize me whenever they could, and convey me back to the Convent from which I had escai)e(l. Under these circumstances, it seemed to me that the offer to place me among the Sisters of Charity, with permission to remain.iu New York, was mild and f avQMrable. However, I had resolution enough to refuse to see priest Conroy. Not long afterwards I was informed, by the same messenger, that the priest was again iu the building, OF KABU irojfK. 149 141 •night b, puWaoTl*^' !"•«*?*'>. that • ftep' uo more of them. A^ho^«'' " ^.'^•hed to rw^S to .je me, and I sent b^k J?'i **u* P"*»t wanted which howeyer, was nS ^LST" ** ^f'- 8--!t ward, informed that Mr Sf ***V*"i ^ ^m af terJ •pent an hour in the roim a '2^' *•«*> ^"""' ?"«{ had frequently been : but S^„„i.V*'»*«f« where t I was employed at «n«il' '"""Kh the mei«y of Go/ I afterwards repeatldlThea J ♦K°"j'i'"'« met hfai tinned to visit theZuse ^' J''** J^I' CoMoyoo?.* never saw him T /.„ ?' 3"" to ask for ma • w » institution. aSd kI to tteif.?*"™'J«» "'eivJihl circumstances oMuwedwhifw" "' Charity; iSi ther reflection ; and! wm ' il£?'S "*« *'•»« »' fa?! tion to which I should have hISn ''°'" *''« dwtrol A» the period of mv ^^. i ° «Po«>d. spmetimei thought S^f Tt""^!"**"* ^PPWaohed T then the recolleltion of \t°^^^ 52* •"nwU -^J witnessed in the Tunn/r„ 1 dreadful crime, f Kd powerfully, and I woutd^ S''f°'»«"'P°n me v^ disoloMthembeforTldfed °^'t awlemn dut^g those things, and leave th; 1° m^" ? •'""wledifi of them known, appeared to m«^?;'<* ^*''»»t malioi 's^-ssfiik.'tt-::::::.':::;^' 150 JLWFUL DISGLOSnilES iioipated with so much anxiety, I was tittin^ alone, and began to induli^e in reflections of this kind. It seemed to me that I must be near the close of my life, and I determined to make a disclosure at oncp. I spoke to Mrs. Ford, a woman whose character I respected, a nurse in the hospital, number twenty- three. I informed her that I had no expectation Vf livinf? louff, and had some thin^^s on my mind which I wished to communicate before it should be too late, I added, that I should prefer telling them to Mr. T— , the chaplain ! of which she approved, as she considered it a duty to do so, under those circum- stances. I had no opportunity, however, to cou« Terse with Mr. T. at that time, and. probably, my purpose of disclosing the facts already given in this DooK, would never have been executed, but for what subsequently took place. It was alarm which led me to form such a deter- mination ; and when the period of trial had been safely passed, and I had a prospect of recovery, any- thing appeared to me more unlikely than that I should make this exposure. I was then a Boman Catholic, at least a great part of my time; and my conduct, in a great measure, was according to the faith and motives of a Boman Catholic. Notwithstanding what I knew of the con- duct of so many of the priests and nuns, I thought that it had no effect on the sanctity of the church, or the authority or effects of the acts performed bv the former at the mass, confession, &c. I had such a regard for my vows as a nun, that I considered my band as well as my heart irrevocably given to Jesus Christ, and could never have allowed any person to take it. Indeed, to this dav, I feel an instinctive aversion to offering my band, or taking the hand of another person, f ven as an expression of friendship. I also thought that I might toon return to the Catholics, although fear and disgust held me back. I had now that infant to think for, whose life I had ^^mm «MPi" ■ -1 - .1 ^t.J^BI apnaM 07 MABU MOKK. 151 happily sayed by my timelv escape from fhe Naii« nery ; what iti fate mi^ht be, in case it should eyer fall into the power of the priests, I could not tell. I had, hoviwver, reason for alarm. Would a child| destiued to destruction, like the infants I had seen baptized and smothered, be allowed to go throuf(h the world unmolested, a living memorial of the truth of crimes long practised in security, because never ex« fosed P What pledges could I get to satisfy me, that , on whom her dependence must be, would be spar« ed by those who, I had reason to think, were wish- ing then to sacrifice me P How could I trust the helpless infant in hands which had hastened the baptism of many such, in order to hurry them into the secret pit in the cellar P Could I suppose that Father Phelan, Priest of the Pariah Church o/Moiu treal^ would see his own child growing up in the world, and feel willing to run the risk of having the truth exposed P What could I expect, especially from him, but the utmost rancour, and the most de« termiued enmity, against the innocent child and its abused and defenceless mother P Tet, my mind would sometimes still indine to the opposite direction, and indulge the thought, that perhaps the only way to secure heaven to us both, was to throw ourselves back into the hands of the church, to be treated as she pleased. — When, there- fore, the fear of immediate death was removed, I renounced all thoughts of communicating the sub* stance of the facts of this volume. It happened, however, that my danger was not passed. I was soon seized with very alarmmg symptoms ; then my desire to disclose my story revived. I had before had an opportunity to speak in pri« vate with the chaplain ; but, as it was at a time when I supposed myself out of danger, I had deferred for three days my proposed oommudlcation, thinking that I might yet avoid it altogether. When my s>uiptoms, however, became more alarming, I was '*W Ilia A vnxi msoKOiuxis fuiziont for Saturday to aniTe^ the day whidi I had appointed ; and when I had not the opportunity, on thai day* which I deeired, I thoni^ht it might be too late, 1 did not see him till Mondiay, wjien my proa^ pects of Buryiving were very gloomy, and I then in* formed him that I wished to communicate to him a few secrets, which were likely otherwise to die with me, I then told him, that while a nun, in the Oon* Tent of Montreal, I had witnessed the murder of a nun, called Saint Frances, and of at least one of the infants which I have spoken of in this book. I add- ed some few circumstances, and I believe disclosed, in general terms, some of the crimes I knew of in that Nnnnery, My anticipations of death proYod to be nnfound* ed : for my health afterwards improved, and had I sot made the confessions on that occasion, it is very possible I might never have made them. I, however, afterwards^ felt more willing to listen to instruction, and experienced friendly attentions from some of the benevolent persons around me, who, taking an interest in me on account of my darkened under- standing, furnished me with the Bible, and were ever ready to counsel me when I desired it. I soon began to believe that God might have in- tended that his creatures should learn his will by reading his word, and taking upon them the free exerdse of their reason, and acting under responsi- bility to him. It is difficult for one who has never given way to such arguments and influences as those to which I bad been exposed, to realize how bard it is to think aright, after thinking wrong. The Scriptures always affect me powerfully when I read ttiem ; but I feel that I have but just begun to learn the great truths, in which I ought to have been early and thoroughly instructed. I realize, in some degree, how it is, that the Scriptures render the people of the United States •o atrongly opposed to such doetiines aa axe taught 0m*»A^- •«MVI ir m i m iwi 1 i OF MABIA XOmL 153 ill fha Blaek and Oongregational Nunneriaa of Hon. treal. The priests and nuns nsed often to declare, that of all heretios, the children from the United States were the most difficult to becouTerted; and it was thoufirht a great triumph when one of them was brought over to '* the true faith." The first pas- sage of Scripture that made any serious impressico upon my mmd, was the text on which the chaplain preached on the Sabbath after my introduction to the hoaiOi — ^ Search the Scriptures." I lin- by tree Lsi- \ IM AMIinjL SUaUBUJUi EXTEACTS PROM PUBLIC JOTJENAIS, BBLATINQ TO TSCX2 truth: OB* MAEIA MONrS DISCLOSURES. ThefoUawing eertificaie appeared in the Protestant vindicator^ in March, 1836. Wb, thefubsoribers, have an acquaintance with Miss Maria Monk, and having cousin ered the evidence of cKffereut kiuds which has been collected in relation to her case, have no hesitation in dedarinf;^ our be- lief in the truth of the statements she makes in her book, recently published in New Tork, entitled * Aw« f ul Disclosures/ &c. *^ We at the same time declare that the assertion, orioinally made in the Roman Catholic Newspapers of Boston, that the book was copied from a work en- titled *The Gates of Hell Opened/ is wholly desti- tute ef foundation ; it being eittirely new, and not copied from anything whatsoever. '* And we further declare, that no evidence has been v>roduced which discredits the statements of Miss Monk ; while, on the contrary, her story has yet received, and continues to receive, confirmation from variottn sources. *' During the last week, two important witnesses upontaoconsly appeared, and offend to give public tettimoBy^in ner favour, l^m ttiem the following • •! ' XT"-*' ? -nwr ' ■'11 " J t —l ' 9_ ' OV UAMUl xonx. 155 eises nblio wiug dellnaationt hare been reoeiTed. The flnl is an att* daTit Kiyea by Mr. William Miller, now a resident of this city. The second is a statement reeeifed from a yuun^ married woman, who, with her has* baud, also resides here. In the clear and repeated statements made by these two witnesses, we place entire reliance ; who are ready to furnish satisfac- tion to any persons making reasonable enquiries on the subject. *' W. 0. Bbownbee, *' Amos Belden, ** John J. Slocum, ** Dayid Wessok, •* Andbbw Bbuoe, * Thoscas Hooan.** **D. Fanshaw, From the American Protestant Vindicator, **It was expected that, after Maria Monk's disclo- sures, an artful attempt would be made to inTalidate her testimony— which was done secretly after her escape from the Hotel Dieu Nunnery, bv so altering the appearance of that iv jtitutiou by planking, and bricking, and stoning, as to deceive Col. Stone, who was then requested to examine it for himself and the world. The Ool. misrepresented what he saw, be was deceived regarding those alterations by the in* mates, who draggled him, as it were, by force through the building during his examination, which was per- formed in the amazing short space of a few hours. But time is the grand nnraveller of mysteries. On the appearance of the book of Miss Monk, the hood- winked people of Montreal were so surprised and stupefied at findiui; that the immaculate parity of the Hotel Dieu had been so dispara«^ed, that they forgot to think seriously on the subject -but, under- standing that the story had gained almost reneral belief abroad, they, at last, were led to con lecture that perhaps it was partiality that prevented them from believing it at home. General attention, there- lorci iu Muutrcali was directed towards that edifico 1/^6 ▲WFUL DXSOLOSXnUII —and those residing in its immediate vioinitj cast a retrospeotiye f^lanoe oTer what thev had seen trans- acted there, between the time at which the * Disclo- sures' were published, and the visit of Ool. Stone. The result of this investii^ation has been lately f^xYen on the spot to the Bev. Jas. P. Miller, of New York, who Yisited that city for the purpose of hearing that the truth was ^'radually coming to li^ht. The neigh- bours informed Mr. Miller that about the time it was rumoured that she had exposed the institution, a mysterious pile of planks, twenty-fiye feet in height, had been placed mysteriously in the yard, which were wonderfully and gradually used in progressing some improyements in the building— for they were neither employed outside nor hauled away. Whateyer may be the fact with regard to Maria Monk's alleged disclosures, those of our people who haye read your papers, are satisfied in one point : that Mr. Stone's credibility as a witness has been successfully impeached ; that his examination of the Nunnery, was a mere sham ; that he was either the dupe of Jesuitical imposture, or that he himself is a fond impostor ; that he has been unwillingly or ig- norantly befooled ; and unless he has had a tangible reward, that he has ' got his labour for his pains.' **My wife, who spent her childhood in Montreal, says, that she and her schoolmates, when walking the street near the Nunnery, often used to wonder if the famous subterranean passaee was under the place where they then stood: ana yet, forsooth, no person in Canada eyer before heard of it ! What- eyer may be the facts in relation to those disclo- sures, we needed not your paper to satisfy us either that Jesuits must be as holy as the * Blessed Virgin Mother* herself, or those conyentides of unprotect- ed females are scenes of the most damning character. ^A Fbozbsiant.'* hi OF MJLnii. iro!nc. 167 kits ans- lolo- ;one. [iven rork, that Bigli- b was on, a jight, fhich were Bfaria e who [>oint : I been of the er the )lf is a Irgin >tect« }ter. Frcm the Lang Idand Star, qf FA, 29^. ^ Since the publication of our last paper, we have received a communication from Messrs. Howe and Bates, of New York, the publishers of Miss Monk's * Awful Disclosures.' It appears that some iuflu« ence has been at work in that city, adyerse to the free examination of the case between her and the priests of Oanada ; for thus far the newspapers have been most entirely closed against everything in her defence, whilst most of them have published false charges against the book, some of a prepoi^terons nature, the contradiction of whicL is plain an i pal« pable. *< Beturning to New York, she then firs^ resolved to publish her story, which she ha« recently When it became known in Oanada that ^his was her intention, six affidavits were published in some of the newspapers, intended to destroy confidence in her character ; but these were found vei^y conU'a- dictory in several important points, and in others to afford undesigned confirmation of statements before made by her. '* On the publication of her book, the New York Catholic Dairy, the Truth-teller, the Green Banner, and other papers, made virulent attacks upon it, and one of them proposed that t •'^ publishers should be * lynched.' An anonymous handbill was also circulated in New York, declaring the work a ma* liornant libel, got up by Prote^ant clergymen, and promising an ample ref a nation of it in a few days. This were re-published in the Oatholic Dairy, &c.y with the old Montr ^ affidavits, which latter were distributed through New York and Brooklyn ; and 158 AWFUL DISCtO TTBSS .fe K on the authority of tHbse, several Protestant news- papers denounced the work as false and malioious. ** Another charge, quite inconsistent with the rest, was also made, not only by the leadinfi^ Boman Ca- tholic papers, but by several others at second hand —viz., that it was a mere copy of an old European work. This had been promptly denied by the pub« lisbers, with the offer of 100 dollars reward for any book at all resembling it, ** Tet such is the resolution of some, and the un- belief of others, that it is impossible for the pub- lishers to obtain insertion for the replies in the New York papers generally, and thev have been unsuc- cessful in an attempt at Philadelphia. ** This is the ground on which the following ar- ticle has been offered to us, for publication in the Star. It was offered to Mr. Schneller, a Boman Priest, and Editor of the Catholic Dairy, for inser- tion in his paper of Saturday before last, but re- fused, although written expressly as an answer to the affidavits and charges his previous number had contained. This article hns also been refused inser- tion in a Philadelphia daily paper, after it had been satisfactorily ascertained that there was no hope of gaining admission for it into any of the New York papers. ** It should be stated, in addition, that the author- e&A of the book, Maria Monk, is in New York, and! stands ready to answer any questions, and sub* niit to any enquiries put in a proper manner, and desires nothing so strongly as an opportunity tol Erove before a court the truth of her story. She] as already found several persons of respectability! who have confirmed some of the facts, important! and likely to be attested by ooncurrant evidence and much further testimony in her fayour may ••CD expected by the public " With these facts beifore them, intelligent readei will Judge lor themielfas. She Mka for iuTesti OT KAMA SrONS. 150 tion, while her oppoueuts deny her every opportu- nity to meet the charges made af^ain^t her. Mr. Schneller, after ezpressiiig a wish to see her, to the Eablishers, refused to meet her auy where, oiilesa ia is owa house ; while Mr. Quarter, another Roman Catholio priest, called to see her, at ten o'clock one night, accompanied by another man, without inviiiiC their names, and under the false pretence of being bearers of a letter from her brother in Montreal, PUBLI8HJW FOR THM BOOKSELLERS. M >Vv MYSTERIES OP A CONVENT. I % Biiteied aocordingto tbe Aot of Oongresfly in the Tear 1854, by T. B. PETERSON, In the Office of the d ^rk of the Diatriot Oourt of the United States, in and for the Eastern Diatriot of Pennsylvania. tefii.f . ^?M:-Jk£Mk>^L:^^dt2 'a^ »ii»fl» 3^WiiSifyy--^W^itW!lipB-^^^^ THE MYSTERIES OF A CONVENT. In the BY A NOTED METHODIST FBEACHEB. •< PHILADELPHIA: T. B. FXXBB8OV1 lOly OB^SnnTT w ] I* . U oft] one teen pent sure of til ed \ Bubj try, hen ofei oftl wba thoi wort shot] in e Sun, LITERARY NOTJCK "This book will be eagerly sougbt for and appreeUted bf •11 those sincerely and conscientiously opposed to the worft of tyrannies— tA« tyranny of religion. It is unquestionably one of the best works that has been issued durin? the nine> teenth century. Mr. Peterson has been at considerable «x- pense in getting up this interesting book; and we feel as- sured that it will have a rapid sale, as there are few personf of the present day, bat who wish to be madefuUy acquaint" ed with this important subject. The author grapplet hit subject with a keen, determined intellect, and all the bigo* try, fEinaticism, practises, and doings in a Conventi art here exposed to the light of the noon-day tun. It Is a work of especial interest at the present time. The author ia ont of the most celebrated Methodist preachers now livingy and what he eiposes and narrates he does from the heart. AU diould read and stnd^ it. It is a rich, highly interettinf work, and the low puce at which it is published, will, aa if shoold, bring it within the reach of tne tens of thouaandt in every section of our country that should read it.**— 2Viis 8uiK ••#•• 67 '- OOtMTJUinL OHAPTER XV. VAOB Julia's nan»tlT6— Specious and artM eondnot of the Mother Superior— How the letter was written . . 67 CHAPTER XVI. Sifter Theresa, her sufferings and death— Her dying warning to Julia— Its effect upon Julia— The Mo- ther Superior's rage in the chamber of death — The Father General's base scheme to enrich the order— The Mother Superior in a dilemma .... 81 CHAPTER XVII. The Mother Superior outwitted— Cursing and pray* ing— Hasty summons to the Father General— In- sulting the dead— Jesuitical conduct 89 CHAPTER XVIII. The Father General obeys the summons in haste- Meeting between him and the Mother Superior— A vile plot conducted between them— The Mo- ther Superior in a new character— The Father General turned grave-digger— Revolting manner of burying the dead 03 CHAPTER XIX. Dnplicity- The plot thickens— Reward offered for the missing nun— A substitute found— A third party in the plot— Threatened tumult 08 CHAPTER XX. The pretended nun undergoes a Judicial examination Jesuitical manoeuvring— An apt pupil— The in- quiry terminates in &vour of the supposed nun. 104 CHAPTER XXI. The Father GeiMral's residence— The library— Splen- did ftunitnre and fittings of the establishment^ OOWKUITI* tteIMlMrQ«iimrt latter to Um ICoUitr Siipt- lio^-Plot upon plot M iOf OHAPTEB ZXII. Tht Vkthar Otneral't anxiety— Ilia interriew toA tnmaaotion with the falao Bmille de Ver»— Tho lnbHcated letter— The Italian leoretary— Plot and eonnter-plot— Fietro and Alioe^The intimaoy •ommenoed « Ul OHAPTEB XXIII. ▲lioe*f parenta— Pi'iced in a oonvent at an early ago —New iieelingi prodnoed by new scenes— ETening ramblee— Mutual attachment— The dawning of light— Its effect upon Pietro and Alioe— Their oonvenation and resolution llf OHAPTEB XXiy. Alice's ignorance of the true nature of the plot sho was engaged in— Her anxiety on that account— Her determination to act right— Arri?al of Mr. * Prentiss— Alice's perturbation and alarm in con* sequence -Her interriew with Mr, Prentiss— Alice divulges the particulars to Mr. Prentiss— i His astonishment at the recital- His determina- tion to befriend Alioe— Escape of Pietro and Alioe VH OHAPTEB XXV. Dcf^potie rule of the Mother Superior— A reTolntfon in the conTcnt— The insurrection quelled by tho Father Oeoeral — Alarming intelligence, on his re- tu n to New York— His frantio conduct in con- sequence , 13S OHAPTEB XXVI. The fti^itlTCs arrire at Baltimoro— Beside with Mr. Bamnm— A private wedding -PxDceed in a vessel »un foot Vew Orletns^PleamrM of a laa Toyage— ▲Urm at the appearance of a luppoaed pirate-- —Preparation for action--OroundleM alarm— Ai^ liTalat New Orleanf— Piety and prosperity of Pletro and Alice •....••.••••••#•••• OHAPTEBZZVn. The Father Oeneral's interview with Mr. Wilmoi^ An angry diiputation— Orimination and re-crim- ination— The arch-plotter tows vengeance againat his tool— Proceeds to put his threat in execntion —Interview with Mr. Ketchum— The Father General's orders to him— Scouts sent in all direo- tions, in search of the fugitives— All search in Tain— Mr. Wilmotand his fiimily ruined, and turned out in the streets— Tidings of the lost Ai« gitiyeii fromFather Beaupres I4ft OHAPTEB XXVIII. Growing aboie of power by the Mother Superior— The Father General resolves to remove her by a violent death— The Mother Superior determines on a similar &te for him— Double-dealing of Sis- ter ICartina— By her exaggerated reports of the Father General's intrigues with the nuns, the Mo- ther Superior wrought up to a state of firenzy^ Fiendish exultation of Martina at the success of her scheme— The instruments of death— Soliloquy and prayer of the Mother Superior — Change in herdeportment 149 CHAPTER XXIX. The FSther General's visit to the convent— Hit conr- teouiand aibble reception— The Mother Supe- rior suddenly changes her demeanour, and ao* eiiaes him of inconstancy— He solemnly denies ^ / OOHTEMTt* xiU PAOB the Moasatton— She reiterates the charge, and queeta him to swear, bf the Tirgin, that it ii flOae, ere aho will belieye him— She stabs him, while taking the oath— Panlina, another yictim to her guilty passion, stabbed by the Mother Su- perioTy in the arbonr— Destroys herself by poison 154 CHAPTER XXZ, Alarm and oonstematlon in the oonyent— Disooyery of the dead bodies— The bodies of the Mother Su- perior and Sister Paulina laid in the same graye —All eflbrti to elucidate the mystery in yain— The offices of Father General and Mother Supe- rior filled up— Partial reyelations and suspicions of the dying Sister Martina— Olosing remarks IttS CONCLUSION. Summary— Lessons to be gained from a right use of the narratiye— The duty of parents— Cautions to young persons— Connection between Popery and infidelity— Sure downfall of error and superstition —Earnest entreaty to embrace the truth Itf < !i!v t It: it :- THE MYSTERIES OF A CONVERT. OHAFTEBL Aniiqae masulon— FamHy portraits— Count of St* Aabyn —Father and daughter. T0WIBD8 the olose of the lait oentory, there etood, within a few miles of Paris, an andent, mos«^'>^^wn chateau, embosomed in oaks, whose cfnarled Jiimbs, levered with mistletoe, gave eyidenoe of their anti- quity, and showed that they had battled against many a fierce onset of the elements. This yenerable pile, with the ample and handsome demesne in whose midst it stood, was the family seat of the Oounts of St. Aubyn, through whose long line of succession it had descended from sire to son, in spite of political oouTulsions which bad shaken the State to its very foundations. Everything about the building wore the impress of time. The furniture, throughout its almost numberless rooms, was of the most antique fashion, and had been preserved with great care, indeed with a sort of superstitious rever- ence. Over the spacious fire-plaoe in the great dic- ing ball, which had so often rung with the voice of revelry, was suspended the onoe brilliantlv illumin- ated, but now discoloured, pedigree of rae family ; while upon the oaken paLdlled walla were hung suits of mail, and implements of war and of the ohasei many of which were of the most primitive and ouri* ous construction. In various parts of the building were to be found portraits of those members el the family who had Men remarkable lor aobieremeiita 7 1CTSTBBZE8 07 A coimsirr. ttii 1 * m ^ in ! j I lit on the battle field, or in the tournaiDent ; for learn- ing, for statesmanship, or for personal beauty : the mailed warrior, the tilting kni(i;ht, the grave conn- eillor of state, the robed priest, and the lovely belle of her day. In the chapel, the floors and walls were covered with marble tablets and monuments, whose bass-reliefs and inscriptions declared the honours of the race in bygone days ; while in the library was carefully preserved an ancient volume of vellum, heavily bound, and clasped with brass, upon whose broad pages the chaplains of the family had been wont to record the history of the succescive counts. An old oaken chest, which stood in one corner of this room, was filled with musty rolls and moth-eaten parchments, that told many a curious tale, and con- tained the evidence of many a dark transaction. Charles, the Count of St. Aubyn, at the penod when our story opens, had distinguished himself in the wars of France, and had fought many a well- contested battle ; but having, in the last of theso, received a dangerous wound which wholly incapaci- tated him for the further service of his country, in the army, he had retired to his patrimonial residence, where he spent much of his time in superintending the education of his only daughter, Louise, a beauti- ful girl, now in her eighteenth year ; his remaining leisure being devoted to the management of his es- tate, and to court intrigue. Naturally of a cold, haughty, and tyrannical dis- position, which his long career as a military leader had by no means abated, but, on the contrary, had greatly aggravated ; excessively vain of his ances^ try ; impatient of all contradiction, and ambitious of power and preferment ; Count St. Aubyn was but ill prepared for the accomplishment of a task which bad been early devolved upon him by the death of the countess, sr>on after giving birth to Louise; and this task was rendered the more diflicuU by her in* hecitance of her father'! traits of character ; and by i m ICTSIFiSBXBS OV k CfOKTBHT. 9 the fact that, while absent from home in the serrioe of his conntry^ he had confided his daughter to the care of a maiden aunt, who was too indolent to take any interest in what so nearly concerned her niece, and to the chaplain of the family—a Boman Catholic priest— who thought that any knowledge beyond that of the breyiary was wholly useless for a young and beautiful ffirl, sole heiress to a noble name and priucely estate, PossesHin^, however, an iDquiritiff mind and great natural talents, Louise spent muofi of her time, from the age of twelve years, in her fa- ther's library ; reading such books as suited her fancy, and especially delighting in the perusal of the volume of vellum which contained the history of her ancestors. Finding, too, the key which unlocked tho old oaken chest, she eagerly pored over the contents of its time-rusted parchments. At other times, she would ramble over the gloomy pile, passing from room to room, spending hours in looking at the fa« mily pictures which smiled or frowned upon her from the walls, and in ezaniiiiing the curiously wrought tapestry with which some of the rooms were draped ; or, going forth into the forest near the chateau, she would stroll from place to place, as her fancy dictate edj or sit by the side of the rip[>ling stream, lost in bright musings, engeuj E'J^Si"3i V.-ij l< 'It ' ''^ ^w m ra *'ii fl H&'liK ^4 i * •« ♦ 18 ^'W>iS« * jj * iF "J - k » », s * wm ••i'. ^ ' ■ '' M ';•>•> th % •-' 'cfi '.. \ ' ' ■r^ ^f n ' 1 V .. .8«< - ;"•• ' '"' '^1 . f * ■.\ ' ■ j # m m ^ n H^rstBBIZS Ol^ A OOVTXXT* i il ii of midnight Still he oame not, nor had her messen gers returned. She knew not what to do. nor where to send ; she feared the worat^ vet hoped hourly for her father's arriyal. Weaned and exhausted hy anxiety, as well as ohilled hy the damp night air, she went to her room, and tried to compose herself, but in yain ; the old clock oontinned to souud forth, from its iron throat, hour after hour, and still her fathei, — whom she loyed, in spito of their outbursts of temper in the past, — her father came not. Has- tily summoning her maid, she bade her descend to the servants' hall, and order the coachman to get ready the carriage ; and, just as the day broke^ she threw herself into it, and, saying, ** To the city," leaned heavily upon the cushions, in a perfect fever of excitement. It was already seven o'clock when she reached the gatos of Paris ; and here fresh difficulties arose in her path. She was refused admittance ; but, oppor- tunely for her, a friend of her father, who had some influence with the guard, arrived just at the mo- ment, and succeeded in bribing him to let her pass; the stipulation being matle, however, that the carri- age should remain outside the barrier, and that she should enter the city, alone and on foot, so as to at- tract no observation. What a scene met her gaze, on her entrance into the thoroughfares through which she had repeatedly passed before, a light-hearted maiden, richly appa- reled, seated in the old family coach, by the side of her father, the Count ; of whose dignified and com- manding appearance she was so justly proud. Now, alone, on foot, and, happily for her own safety, but indifferently clad, with her heart palpitating under the iufluence of fear and anxiety, she had to make her way through a dense mass of human beiugs, heaving and rolling like the waves of the ocean, when moved by the storm. Here were men, drunken with ezoitemeot and intoxi c a t ed with power, for the l"* XTBTEKZSI OV ▲ OOAVJUIV* IS mob ruled — drunken men uttering the mott awful blasphemiea, and crying, in tones which called the Tery soul within her, /* Blood ! Blood, Mw Blood f* Here were woman with dishevelled hair ; torn add ragf^ed dresses, besmeared with blood ; countenances haggard and pale for want of food ; women bias* pheming, and crying, in accents of despair, ** Brwd / Bread. Dovm with the Aristocrats— give Ui breads or yfe die,** There the infuriated crowd was mak- ing a bonfire of the elegant but broken furniture which had just been taken from a neighbouring mansion — that mansion in flames; while another party was dragging to the guillotine the late owner of this princely establishment— his only crime, per* haps, his wealth. A few steps further on, and she beheld some unfortunate being hanging, lifenesa, from a lamp-post; and advancing but a short dis« tance beyond, she encounters a dead body, lying oa the pavement, with its ghastly, upturned features, ground hj the heel of some ruffian, until they could not be distinguished. Blood, blood, blood— every where ; in the street ; on the pavement ; standing ia great puddles, running in the gutters, spattered upon the walls in the houses, staining the faces and gar« ments of the populace ; blood crying to heaven for vengeance upon the regicides, the homicides. O, it was a horrible spectacle— a sight to have sickened her woman's heart— a sight which she never forgot, and which mysteriously affected her whole after lifOi as it stood in connexion with the event of that mom« iug, which froze that heart to stone, and for ever dried up that kindly emotion. Drawing her shawl closely about her person, and stopping from time to time to recover herself, as in the swayings to and fro of the maddened crowd, she was now hurried ra« Sidly forward, and now almost hurried to theground. he nad succeeded in passing through several streeta as yet unharmed, when, on suddenly turning a cor- ner, she atood in lull view of the guillotine ; around f. i ,1 14 MTSTBRXXB OF JL OOJIVXMT* which WM irath«r«d a motley mu!tiiude of man, wo- mtn, and ohildron, all Tocifarating that terrible ory — ** Blood ! blood I" One glance sufficed to tell her that fhe had found her father, but under what fear, fol drcumttauoes. There he etood erect upon the •eaffold, oattinir a look of diguified defiance upon tha eurginpr mobf thireting for hie life. A moment more, and he, who had never feared death upon the battle field, calmly laye his head upon the block. Spell-bound, Louiie sees the fatal knife deicend with lightning cpeed, but she seei no more : with one wild •hriek of agouT she falli ewooning upon the hard •tonet ; tha last link seyered which bound her in sympathy to her race. ^ I CHATTEB ni. Retaraing consciousness— Louise the orphan— A friend in need— Genuine sympathy— Disinterested generosity. Ov recoTering from tha state of insensibility into which she had been thrown by the dreadful spec* tada that she had witnessed, she was surprised to find herself on a low pallet, in a small and ill-fur* lil^had ap&rtment, with a female bending oyer her, whom she did not recollect to haTc seen before, bu- sily engaged in chafing her temples. *• Where am I P" cried the unhappy girl. "0, where am I. and where is my dear father f I have had such a horrible dream ! I thought I saw my fathar lay his heed upon tho blood? block— that I saw his grey hairt floating on tha breese, and then •*I saw that terrible knife— but tell me, O, tell me.** aha added, eagerly grasping tha arm of tha stranger, ** haTC I been dreaming, or is it, indeed, a fearful reality f Bneak, I entreat you, for my poor head reels eo, that I cannot remember any thing." Tha good woman sought to soothe her, and to mrSTBBDUl OV if OOKVBHT* II trade tba queition ; tallingr ^n how important it was for har to be quiet ; but all her beneTolent ef • forts were in Tain. Louise presaed the queatioOi until, finding it waa still evaded, ahe tcreamed in agony— ** Then, indeed, it was no dream. They hare mur- dered mj poor father. Take, take me to him!" and again fell oack exhausted and faint upon the couch. Her kiud hostess again succeeded in restoring her to oonsciousnass ; and then, in spite of all entreatiea. refused to answer any questiona, until tha ooula hare tried to sleep. Louiscs fully aware of her loss, and that she waa truly an orphan, for her father had been cruellv mur- dered before her eyes ; her mother had died in gir- ing her birth ; aud she ha^^ not a blood relatiTe in all France ; wrung her ha iS in ailent agony, and tossed from side to side upon the bed, until at length wearied nature yielded to the soft impulse of sleep : and she lay, for four or five hours, in unoonacioua* ness of the sorrows which had settled down upon her ynung spirit, like a pall of darkness. W1 ile she thus sleeps, it may be as well to inform the reader, that, wheu Louise uttered the cry of horror, and swooned in the street, on seeing her fa- ther guillotined, there stood not far from her in the crowd, an old soldier, in the dress of a labourer, who, attracted by her scream, and looking upon her face, discovered in her the daughter of his old gen- eral, the Count St. Aubyn, whose blood was, at that momefit, streaming from the neighbouring scaffold. Hastily seizing the poor girl, as she laj upon the pavement, her dress stained with the crimson fiuid, which stood in puddles all about her, he raised her in his arms, while the rushing crowd seemed ready to trample them both beneath their impatient feet; and, forcing a passage, with his brawny shoulder, through the heaving masses of human beinga, who appeared to be demona incarnate keeping their ia« y. V. :''i ^-i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.1 ■^121 ill ^ m 12.2 ^ U£ 12.0 m |l^||U|m ^ 6" ► Fhotografjiic Sdences Corporation 37 v ^^ O ^. * V <^r*#. '^'°'^'%^' ^ ^.v^ ;\ 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIII,N.Y. UStO (716) •72-4503 ^^% .«* 4^ 16 UT8ISBIE6 OF A OONTBNV. f eraal holiday on the green earth» which hluBhed iu blood, he made his way as best he might, until, turn- ing into a by-street which was less throoged than that through which he had passed, he presently reached the outskirts of the city, and arrived at his own humble dwelling. Here depositing his uncon- scious burthen upon the bed, and bidding his wife take care of the strauger, until his return, he went forth, and, going to a restaurant, bought a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine, with which he hastened home ; the shouts of the maddened multitude, from a distauce, even now and then falling upon his ear, as victim after victim sank beneath the stroke of the guillotine. Accustomed as he had been to the min- gled^sries of the battle-field, and to scenes of carnage, there was something inexpressibly dreadful to him in Uiese fiendish shouts of oitiaens imbruing their hands in each other's blood, and in the wild excite- ment of neighbours fighting against their neigh- bours, in mortal strife and deadly hatred. On re-entering his dwelling, he found Louise sleeping disturbedly, and, seating himself by the side of his wife, proceeded to relate to her the events of the morning, and to inform her who their guest was. Presentl;^ Louise awoke, and, heaving a deep sigh, oast a hurried glance from one to the other of the strangers who sat near her bedside, as if to inquire where she was, and who they were. With a kindness and consideration that would have done honour to those who make greater pre- tensions to refinement than this humble couple, Ma- rie^-forthis was the good woman's name— approach- ed Louise, and, placing her hand affectionately upon her forehead, from which, -as well as from her hair and dress, all stains had been carefully removed whfle the had been sleeping, pressed her to take Bome nojorishment, and plac^ before her the bread and wine which the old soldier has brought home, lioitite supoecde^ iu taking ^^Ul^e o| both| and then^ ■:V!^ KYSTElbZES OS* A OONYBNT. 17 Ihankihg ber kind but unknown friendt, begged they would satisfy the enquiries of her mind. Pierre Loubat — her generous preserver—then pro- ceeded to relate what had occurred during the in- terval of her uncouficiousness, and assured her that, as long as she desired it, his house, humble as it was, should be her home ; adding that her father, under whom he had served in the army, had saved his life on the battle-field ; and that, while he had an arm to raise, it should be outstretched for her protection. '* Thanks, most kind friends," replied Louise, who, while listening to the good Pierre, had covered her face with her hands ; the heaving of her bosom, and the tears as they fell upon her dress, mean- while evincing her deep emotion ; " a poor orphan, for truly such I am, cannot reward you, for your benevolence to her, but may that God who has pro« mised to be a father to the f atherlesBi pour upon you his choicest blessings." ** Speak not of reward," was the prompt and feel« ing response of the labourer ; '* your noble fatiier has laid me under eternal obligations, and it is but a poor return to befriend his child. Tou have only to command my services, to secure them in any way you may require." *' But tell me," he presently added, '* are there none of your relations in the city, to whom you would like to send a message by me F" Louise shuddered as this question fell upon hes ear ; and, with a fresh gush of tears, replied, "Alas, I have not a blood relative on earth. My parents are both dead; and I know not another bemg, be* sides myself , in whose Teini flows the blood olthe St. Aubyns." " But vour father must hare had many friends in Paris, who would be glad to beof service to you now/' ** Mv father had friends, while in prosperitv; but uow that bt if dead, and by means of tbe guiUotin^ *^i 1,1 :i 18 ICTSTBBZE8 OV L OONYBMY* who would dare to befriend hif child f To apply to them, would be bat to throw myself upon the same block, and to meet the same fate.*' ** The Virgin forbid 1" exclaimed Marie, deyoutly erossing herself. '* Alas ! poor young lady," said Pierre, in tones of heartfelt sympathy, *' how sad is your condition ! Be assured, at least, that neither Maria nor I will eyer desert or betray you." A fresh burst of gnef was the only response that Louise oould make. At leneth, as though a sudden thought had cross- ed her mind she asked, ** Do you know If. De Kontmain, the banker f* ^ 1 know wh ere he liyes," replied he. *' You will greatly oblige me then," said Louise, *^ if you will go to his house, to-morrow morning; and say to him, that the daughter of the Count St. Aubyn would be glad to see him here, for a few minutes, on business." ** I will most cheerfully,'' quickly returned Pierre, as if it did his noble heart good to haye an opportu- nity of redeeming his promise to the poor orphan. Here Marie interposed, and, insisting that Louise should be left to seek rest, made arrangements for the night, and, giving up their own bed to her, re- tired to a little room adjoining that in which she was to sleep. CHAPTEBIY. Kind-hearted banker— Noble resolfe— A generous proposal —Obligation returned— A thankM heart. Oh: the following morning, at an early hour, Pierre ealled at the residence of M. de Montmain, and hav- ing with some difficultyi succeeded in seeing the Wm mSTBBXBS OV JL OOJHVJfiNT. 19 bankeTi informed him that a young lady wished to see him, on business, at No. 68, Bue de Nantes, and that if he would go with him, or say when it would suit his conTenience to make the call, he would show him the way. ** But my good friend," replied the banker, ** yon hare not told me her name ; and these, you are aware, are not times for a man in my situation to be calling on nameless damsels, simply beoauso they ex- press a desire to see him. Who is this unknown lady r **The daughter of General St. Aubyn, whowat guillotined yesterday^" answered Pierre, bowing re* spectf ully, and brushing away a tear from his eye. ** The daughter of General St. Aubyn, who waa guillotined yesterday !" slowly repeated M. de Moni- main, looking fixedly upon Pierre. '* Impossible 1" added he, ** How oame she there P" ** I carried her there on my shoulder, from near the scaffold on whioh she had seen her noble father prish/' answered Pierre ; *' and I intend to protect her with my own life, now that she is an orphan, without home, and without friends.*' As he said this, the good soldier drew himself up to his full height, and looked as though he saw before him some one who had intentions of injury towards his young protegee. The hanker saw the noble bearing of the yeteranf, and, readiTig the devotion to her interests which he had unconsciously betrayed, took him warmly by the hand, exdaimmg, "Noble-hearted man, the great God will bless you for this kindness to the orphan. Come, show the way to your house; I will follow you anywhere.'* Adyanoing hastily along the less-frequented streets; for no one, who had anything at stake, loyed, in those troublous days, to linger by the way, or to mingle with the crowd ; the banker and ther old sol- dier soon reached the dwelling of the latter, and 1 r ' 1 t. 1 r ( i *1 11 i 1 ! It ;^ 1 1 ft ■ k II T i B H J i 1 iH n If ■ 9 1 i 20 MYSIBBIBS OV A CX>NVJUIT« were seated by the bed of Louise, who was too feeble to arise. M. de Montmain immediately recognised the daughter of the deceased Geueral, whose features she bore very distinctly, and whom, indeed, he had once seen at her father's; and, addressing her in tones full of sympathy and kindness, asked if he could in any way serve the child of his old friend. '*! am an orphan, and destitute" — replied Louise, her utterance almost choked with emotion — *' and haying no home to which I can safely repair, while I am willing to become a burden to these kind-heart* ed people, who have saved my life, and perhaps, at least, my honour, I have sent for you, M. de Mont« main, to know if my father, at the time of his death, had any money in your hands, and if in any way I can, as his sole survivor, obtain that money, or any portion of it P' '* There are in my hands, belonging to the estate of your late father, 18,000 francs;" replied the bank- er^-^ but you are aware, Mademoiselle, that, in times like these, it is impossible to foresee what may hap- pen, as well as to take any legal steps, to secure to you the inheritance ; besides, if it were known to the government that this amount were now standing on my books to the credit of General St. Aubyn, it would be seized upon immediately, and confiscated to the purposes of the State. In this dilemma, it is Tery difficult to determine what is best to be done." Having said this, the banker sat for some time in deep thought ; at length raising his eyes from the floor, upon which they had been intently fixed, he said, ^ I will tell you what I will do, Mademoiselle Lou- ise; I am under obligations to your excellent father |or advances made me in my business, when I great- ly needed them. This money is rightfully yours, in- dependent of alllegal proceedings, which are now ol .course entirely out ox the q^uestion : but eighteeo ItySTEBIES Of X OOlffVSllT. 21 thousand franoi ii a larga •am of money, and if it wen diacoYBrad, after I had paid it oyer to you, that it wai in my possesaion iabeequent to the General's death, the doyernmentmight confiscate that amount of my funds, and hold me responsible for the entire sum. But you need money, and must haye it ; I will, therefore, in the course of two hours from this time, pay you the sum of ten thousand f ranees, and take your receipt for that amount, together with a bond of indemuity against any loss that I may sus* tain by the act, payable out of the estate ; should these troublous times e\ /r pass away, and men's right be once more respecced and established. The remainder to be left in my hands, subject to the es« tablishment, at some future time, of your claims, as heiress of your father." ** You haye my thanks, Ifi.. de Montmain, for this generous offer," said Louise, in tones which at once evinced her surprise at the generosity of the banken and the relief which it afforded to her mind. *' I will most cheerfully sign any writing you may re- quire, and shall consider myself under obligations to one who has manifested so much honesty and true kindness of heart." The banker hastened home, and, returning in about an hour, placed in Louise's hands the sum of ten thousand francs in gold, taking the necessary papers to secure himself from loss, as far, at least, as possi* ble, under the circumstances ; and, assuring her of his readiness at all times to serye her, for the sake of her father, he bade her adieu, and left the house. Louise at once called the good Pierre to her, and, counting into his hand, in spite of all his remon« strances, fiye hundred francs, desired him to consi- der them as his own, and to take the remainder in to his safe keeping, for her use. It is utmecesaaiy to add that the trust was neyer betrayed. m m r H HTSffiUlSfl 09 k 001IVBM9* CHAPTER V. A oomlbitable retreat— Retribution— The peasant glrl'i Tie* tim— Blood for blood—The chiefiB receive their merited doom— The orphan's curse. EiOBTBiSN months rolled away, and still found Lou. ISO an inmate of the same family whioh had first afforded bar protection. They lived not in the same hoose^ however ; for she had insisted upon their tiJung one somewhat larger and more comfortable, at her expense, while it was at the same time less exposed to the prying eye of curiosity, and her eafety was, therefore, rendered the greater. The good Marie ministered to all her wants, and submit- ted to all her caprices ; while Pierre daily brought her the news from the city. Meanwhile, the first of that '* Infernal TriumTi- rate" which had condemned her father to death by the guillotine, and had deluged France with the blood of her citizens, had fallen beneath the knife of the peasant girl, who putting aside the weakness of her sex, and clothing herself with enthusiastic de- Totion to ike interests of her native land, bared her arm in the name of Freedom, and inspired with a heaTen-bom heroism, tracked the monster Marat to his lair, and there stuck that knife to the heart of him whom she believed to be the foremost in the butch* erj of her countrymen, and whose death would, she thought, give birth to the liberties of France. Next fell Danton — a victim to the jealousy and to the wiles of tiie unprincipled Bobespierre— but while ho met the fate which his atrocities so richly merited, bis dying prediction was fully verified, for, in falling, be dragged with him the areh*murderer, Bobes* E'erri^ Mm the guilty seat of power, wmdi they id occupied together. irrsTSBXES of a, oonvzi^. 23 On tbe moruing of the 29th of July, 1794, at day- break, tha ttreeta of Farii were filled to repletion with maMes of human beings, all conyerging to one point of general attraction • The populace of this great and wicked city, their hands and garments reeking with the gore of the thousands whom they had slain in the feyer of popular excitement, had grown weary of the sight of blood, and yet they were thronging to witness another execution. On- ward they press, one cry sounding above all others — **Down with the tyrant—down with Bobespierrb. To the guillotine with him !** What, Robespierre ! Ay, that name, at mention of which, as it passed from lip to lip, hundreds of thousands, nay, all France, had trembled : — that name, whose magio power had led the maddened multitude to deeds of violence, and to words of blasphemy which astonish- ed tiie world^that name, which had swept, sirocco* Uke, over the land, blaspheming and blighting— that name, once so powerful, now so powerless— that name, once so dreaded, now so contemned. How are the mighty fallen ! Bobespierre is about to ex* piate his crimes, upon that very scaffold to which he nad sentenced so many victims. The guillotine stands on the verv spot where the unhai^py Louis XVI. and his noble consort, Marie Antoinette had suffered. It stands in the Place de la Bevolution. Around it gathered the dense crowd, waiting impa- tiently to witness the death of him who had promis- ed them riches, and fields of grain, but who had, instead, fed them upon the blood of their fathers, . and husbands, and brothers. Now the crowd dis- ports to the right and left ; and, amid cursings, and execrations, and shouts oif exultation, the band of conspirators, against the liberties of France, slowly advances. There are Henriot, and Oouthon, and St. Just, and Dumas, and Ooffinal, and Simon, and others, but other oonspioaons among them all is Bobes- l>i«rre--'the master-spirit^ and arch-oonspir&tovi the i(.i. >,.'.' t^W! M i^- ¥ V, 24 mSIEiaEfl OV ▲ OOKTBH^* tyhmti the bloodhound, of the Beyolation. The Dodiei of Henriot, of Oouthon, and of Bobespierre, aie moitilated — mangled in the bloody soene conse- qaent upon their seizure, the night before. They all stand around the fearful instrument of death, each awaiting his turn. One by one they ascend the platform, above which the glitteriug blade is suspended, and each is heheaded ; a wild shout of joy goes up from the congregated thousands who witness this last offering to liberty. At last comes the tyrant's turn, and, as he mounts the scaffold, a yet wilder shout ascends from the multitude, who are frantic with exultation. There he stands, the last of the dreaded enemies of human rights ! See the blood oozing from the bandage that holds up his fractured jaw; it runs down upon his clothing; the executioner snatches the bandage from his head ; the broken jaw falls upon his breast; and one yell of terrible agony is wrung from his stoical soul, which had borne the anguish of the previous ni^ht, without a groan. But, what cry is that which pierces the ear, whose tones, sounding even above th^ yell of mortal pain which filled every heart with Vliorror, are heard ringing out shrill and clear upon *the air P It was the voice of a woman — a young and beautiful woman,^hose dress of deepest mourn- ing, and whose pale face, showed that she has been a sufferer from the tyrant's cruelties. Hark to the voice ! *' Mufderer of my father, your agony fills me with joy ; descend to hell, covered with the cur- ses of the orphan ! aye, covered with the curses of all the orphans and widows you have liiade in France ;" See, he shuts his eyes, he would fain stop his ears ! he would gladly hush his conscience, but he cannot; the iron has pierced his soul—*' ther^ is a Ood,** The retributions of that hour declare it. Bobespierre feels it ; and, with remorse gnawing at his vitals, he bowi his head upon the block, and l3s doomed spirit l^assei into the awful presenoe of JjiAioTah : eanilta&l inrSTBBXBS 09 ▲ CfOirVEMT. 2IS shouts proclaim the joy of France, th«it a tyrant hai been removed from the face of the earth ; while the whole scene declared the presence of an ayenging Deity. Tlie execution oyer, the crowd dispersed; and Louise St. Aubyn, leaning heavily unou the arm of Pierre^ the old veteran, walked slowly homeward. It was she who, having heard what was to transpire that day, liad clothed herself in mourninf^, and, standing beneath the guillotine, had cursed Bobes* pierre, the murderer of her father. f: CHAPTER VI. Louise lonprs to Ittve France—Looking towards Ameiica— Trevails upon Pierre and Marie to accompany her— Ai* rival in the new Republic -Church of the Jesuits— In* terview with Father Jubert. Franob was hateful to Louise, since the death of her father, and the atrocities which she had witnes- sed, and of which she had heard ; and she Ionised to leave its shores. She had heard much of the young Bepublic across the broad Atlantic, and determined to go thither, that she might no longer be surround* ed by those whom she regarded as lawless murder- ers, against whom she had in secret vowed eternal hatred. Indeed, her heart was filled with bitterness towards her whole race, save the good Pierre, the kind Marie, and the generous banker, M. de Mont* main ; the only beings, in all the world, towarda whom she felt one emotion of regard or esteem. On the morning succeeding the tragical events narrated in the last chapter, Louise called Pierre and his wife into her room, after breakfast, and, bidding them be seated, she said to them : ^My lriend8|J bate France; I wish to leave 1^ 224 IT Sft ttVS9AItlB8 09 A OONVfiKf • and seek an asylum in the new home of the sorrow- strioken. the United States. I am unwilling to lea?e you behind ; will you go with me P" ** But Mademoiselle/' replied Pierre, who was much astonished at this inteUigence— ** we have not the means ; and, besides, we should starve, when we got there, without friends, and without business." ^^ As to the means of getting to America"— re- Rx>nded Louise—** leave that to me ; I will provide them. It is as little as I can do in return for the kindness which you have manifested to me, during the many months that I have spent under yourhos- pitable roof« I will pay your passage across the ocean ; and, when we reach that jfriendly shore, we will take a house, and live together as we do here. Our good Pierre can find something to do ; you, Ma« rie, and I, can keep house, and thus we will do very well. I have seven thousand francs left ; and, while these last, you shall not want. Come, let us leave this horrible country, and go at once where at least our lives will be safe, and we can earn our daily bread in peace. What say you, my friends P" '* Ah ! it will be hard to leave FarisL with all ber faults/' answered Pierre : " but ye^ I feel well as- sured, from what I have heard about that far of! oountry, that Mademoiselle Louise advises for the best. We love her,'*— continued he, addressing him- lelf to his wife—" and we will go with her ; we can ioon earn enough, by our labour, to repay what she may advance for our expenses. Oome, Marie, say yes, and we will go with her." ** Well, Pierre, be it so, then. We have nothing to keep us here, save our love for la belle France, and wno knows but we may grow rich in America, which we assuredly cannot do here." ^ By the way," said Pierre, '* it Just occurs to me, ftfc thu moment; that the captain of the new brig, fho Jean Mauzioe, told me, the ottier dey, that hs iroiiU itart frcai nane for Kew Tork, some timi ttinstmiiBS 6lf ▲ doNViBiCft 27 next wock. U you say so, Madenioiscile Louise, 1 will see the oaptain, and ascertain what he will charge to take us all to that place." Suffice it to sav that the arrangements were all made to the satisxaction of Louise and her compa- nions ; their passports obtained, hers being in an assumed name ; and on the Thursday following the conversation that has just been related, the Jean Maurice was breasting the waves of the ooeaui on her way to the new world. In due time the brig arrived at its port of destina- tion ; and, in a few days, Pierre had taken, at the request of Louise, a nice little house in the suburba of the city, which was plainly but comfortably fur- nished ; and here the three friends, whom misfortune had so singularly bound together in strong ties, lived in the enjoyment of quiet and repose. Pierre loon found profitable employment ; Marie busied herself with household affairs ; while Louise employed her time in embroidery, lessons in which she nad taken before sne left Paris, and for which she received a handsome remuneration from a French merchant, who had been for some time established in business. Some weeks rolled away, when, one morning, Louise entered the confessional in the church of the JesuitSy at New York ; and, after a full confession, sought absolution from the priest who was present. He inquired who she was, and, manifesting great sympatnyfor her sorrows, asked for her adcbreas; telling her he would call, in a few days, and pay her a pastoral visit. This priest was ayonngman^ of about thirty years of age, of handsome features, commanding figure, polished manners, and was a refugee from France, being a descendant from a no* ble family; his name, Jubert. It was not long before Father Jubert stood before the dwelling of Louise St. Aubyn, and. lightly rap- ping at the doo:|\ was admitted into the little par- lonr, where sat&ef whom heeame toiee. TIm Uum| ' ll 28 mrsTSXtiss of a ooiiVByT. mantled upon the cheek of Louise, as she looked at the handsome priest ; and, Jesuit as he was, and ac- oustomed to the maintenance of an iron control over himself, the tell-tale blood which mounted to his face, told that an impression had been made upon his heart which would be exceedingly dangerous to the peace of both. The interview was a lon^ one ; for Father Jubert insisted upon having, from the lips of Louise a full account of her past history ; and, during its recital, manifested the deepest interest in its details. At length, the narrative was completed ; and the priest had arrived at the conclusion that Louise St. Aubyn possessed rare qualifications for membership in the order of Jesuits, and that if she could but be persuaded to join that order, it would be at once a most valuable acquisition, while it would render more easy of accomplishment, certain intentions of his own, which had been formed in his inind, while, with flushed cheek and fire-flashing eye, she had told her thrilling story. He, therefore, related to her, at her request, hit own history, taking care to expatiate upon the hap- py retreat from worldy anxiety, which he had found in the bosom of the church, and in association with the order of which he was a member. His impas- iioned eloquence, while he enlarged upon this topic, made a oeep impression upon the mmd of Louise, already predisposed, by misanthrophic feeling, to abandon the world, and shut herself out from its tu- mult and its sorrows ; and the wil^ Jesuit, finding that he had succeeded beyond his expectations, thought it best not to push the matter, at that time, any further, but to leave the impression to deepen itself, and work its own way. Bising gracefully from his chair, and offering hit iervices to Louise, in the most delicate manner ima- f*Qable, he promised to visit her again; and took I leavei with all the refined politeneee of the ao* i^pliebed nwndhmao. K?2(T1^BZSS OF A C0XV£2(7. CHAFTEBVII. Louise's reflections on the interview— Its effect on Louise^ Anxiety of Pierre and ^arie— The heart's consolationf »The wily Jesuit Tms interview with father Jubert left the mind of Louise in a tumult of emotion, suoh as only a being of her peculiar mould is capable of. Before the die* astrous event occurred, which made her an orphan, she had had but little intercourse with those of the opposite sex ; and then only when, on State coca* sions, she had visited Paris, in company with her father; and although her imagination had often been inflamed by the perusal of romances, which she found in the library of the chateau, and which she had devoured with great avidity, she had never be« fore met with any one who had inspired her with the feelings which she experienced in the interview with the young, the handsome, and the polished, French priest. In short, she had fallen desperately in love with him ; and her quick woman's wit had made th# discovery that the passion was a reciprocal one. Had he been of low origin in his native land, she would have spumed the idea ; but, as he had inform* ed her that he was a son of the Count Jubert, thaa whose there was no better blood in France, her ro- mantic disposition seized eagerly upon the adven* tures ; and her fondness for excitement of every kind, that might relieve the tedious monotony of her every-day life, found nutriment upon which to feast itself, in the flame which the Father Juberl had inspired in her bosom. " But he is a priest,'* said she to herself, as sh^ thought of the otroumstances which had transpired \» tbetotefview; ai&4 tbis, imi(^4 o| ebo^mng b head of the Order of St. Ignatius Loyola, for the United States of America— Homage and obeisance of the priests — OaUi of allegiance, FiTB years had passed away, when, one morning, a large and carefully-healed document, bearing upon it the impress of the Father General of the Order at Borne, was handed to Father Jubert. Dismissing the servant who had brought it, he broke the seals, and sat down at his writing-table to read it. As he progressed in its perusal, he became singularly af« lected ; and, at length, arising from his chair, great- ly agitated, his eve dilated, and his countenance ex- pressiye both ox astonishment and joy, he stood erect, and, with the letter held almost at arm's length, he gazed upon it intently, as though he found it difficult to comprehend its menn'ug. Then, snatching his cap from his head, he threw it up in the air, and clapped his hands in very excitement, exclaiming, as he did so : I* Well, it has come at last ; and I— yes, I— Fran- cois Jubert,— am Head of the Order ox St. Ignatius Lovola, in these United States.'' Again seating himself, and oarefuUy examining the seals, the envelope, the outside and inside, of the document which conferred this high dignity up- OA himi as though he yet leared that there m^kt M KTiXXBIES OV ▲ OONTm* bo Aome mistake, ha appeared to be Mlj latiiflad with hie eorutiny, and, replacinff the missiTe upon the table, agaiu arose and paoed the room from one end to the other, talking to himself, and occasionally uttering audibly a sentence or two. ^ It is well," he said ; *< I have richly merited this honour, young as I am." *' Power! dearest idol of my soul, I have thee; aye, and will use thee, too I" ** Louise, our compact shall not be forgotten." ^ But when does he say the installation is to take place P" Here he seized the letter, and read, ** The Legate, by whom you are to be installed, within ten days after his arrival in New York, is the bearer of this letter. See that he is treated with all the respect due to his high office." *' Ideated with all the respect due to his high of- fice," slowly repeated the Jesuit. ^* Aye, that shall he be ; and he shall be made a stepping stone to further power. I must away to see this Legate." So saying, he carefully locked up the important document, and, arranging his dress, went out to make the necessary preparations for tne suitable re- ception of him who bore so honourable a commission as the representative of the Supreme Power at Eome. Several days of feasting and ceremony had pas- sed by, that set apart for the installation of Father Jubert had arrived. At an early hour in the morning, High Mass was celebrated in the chapel of the monastery ; after which all the members of the order, resident iu the city, together with several from a distance, who had been hastily summoned to attend, adjourned in pro* cession to the Consistorial Hall, in the same build- ing. This was a spacious room, with arched ceil- ing, eome siztjr feet in length, by thirty in width; the walls heavily draped in black cloth, which hung in deep folds, so as entirely to shut out from sight Ihe o|»euing| both tor windows ^d doors. At out inrStB&IBS Olf A 66lNlEKlf. ar end of this apartment was a platform raised 8ome three feet above the floor, being covered with rich carpetiug of the best fabric. Upon this platform or dais, was placed a sort of throue, painted a bright scarlet, ornamented with gold, and surmounted by a magnificent canopy of silk, of the same colour, trim- med with heavy gold fringe. In the centre of the room was suspended from the ceiling, a richly cut- glass chandelier, with almost iuuumerable lights brilliantly burning ; while placed at convenient dis- tances around the hall were candelabra of silver, supporting massive branch candlesticks, each having several lights. At the lower end, there was a neat but small organ, of powerful tone, and seats for the choristers arranged near it. Immediately in front of the throne stood an altar, upon which was placed a golden censer, sending forth its clouds of sweet incense to perfume the air; and near this altar, an ancient, curiously carved chair, lined and cushioned with black velvet, and studded with gold-headed nails, intended for the oc- cupancy of the candidate for the honours of the oo« oasion. Seats of a plainer description, but display- ing the same contrast of colours, were arranged along ihe sides of the room, on either hand. As the procession of priests, clothed in their long black robes, with their peculiarly shaped caps up- on their heads, and having the youngest member of the order in the front, bearing a massive silver cru- cifix, and the oldest in the rear, with the Legate in the centre, supported on the right hand by the can- didate, and on the left by the Father Superior of the monastery ; and all, save these last, walking two abreast, entering the ante chamber, they severally armed themselves with drawn swords, which were placed in racks on either hand ; and, as they passed through the looned«ap drapery which covered the ample door-way, between two sentinels, who, fully vmedi were there found on duty, they severally gavf 1 tt ItlrSVBlllXS 69 A OOMVJfillt* WW the watch-word, on the right aud left—*' A has la U* HaTiDfT entered the spacious hall, whose whole airangements presented amost imposing appearance; th# Legate was escorted to the throne^ by the entire body of priests, who kneeled in a circle around him, while he seated himself, and exclaimed, ** Honour to hia lordship, the Legate of his Holi* ness the Pope, and Vicegerent of the Father General of the Order of St Ignatius Loyola I" Then rising, and taking their appropriate seats, the crucifix, meanwhile, having been placed in an upright position in a receptacle for its foot, pro* ▼idea for the purpose, near the altar, a low -toned, but beautiful, chant was sung by the choir, assisted by the organ, whose rich notes seemed to fill the apartment with fleeting melody. The Legate, wearing a robe of gorgeous grandeur, then arose, and, with a distinct voice, read aloud the authority, appointing Francois Jubert the Repre- sentative of the Supreme Head of the Jesuits in the United States ; and commanding his installation as such, by the hands of the Father Borneo, there pre- sent for that purpose, ** The will of the Father Qeneral be done !" cried all tiie priests, devoutly crossing themselves and bowing low, as the Legate took his seat, while a joyous peal burst forth from the organ. l)irecting the Superior of the monastery to pre- sent the candidate at the altar, the Legate proceed^ •d to dictate to the kneeling priest, the rest all stand- ing, the following oath, which was repeated by hioi in sm andible voice : ^ I, Francois Jubert, in the presence of the Holy Mother of God ; of St. Ignatius Loyola ; the Le* gate of the Father General of the order of Jesuits, tjid of these members of the same, here assembled : do most sincerely and solemnly swear ;— that I wi9 «»4 do i«noiinco tU aUegianoe to Ung, prinoS|po« * f BrtrwTKlrtliR 6t* A >Ia m^ani to (n* er^Rse the wealth of the order, for tUf better accom- plishment of the purposes for which it has hcen in* ■tituted *• I do most sincerely and solemnly swenr that I will not expose, to any person or persons whatever, Dor permit the same to be done by others, any of the Becret instructions that may be given to me by the Father General, or any of his duly accredited aeents ; and should any such at any time fall into the handi of those for whom they were not intended, I will deny, even with oaths, their authenticity, affirming Uiem to be forgeries. ** I do most sincerely and solemnly swear to resfard the orders, instructions, and requirements, of the Father General of the order of Jesuits, as of para- mount authority to tho^e of his Holiness the Pope, whencTer the latter shall clash or conflict with the former ; and, should I ever discover any plot or con- spiracy, or intention of evil in any person or persons whatsoever, towards the interests or safetv of the order, I will, without delay, communicate the jaroe to the Father General, and do all in my power to contravene and to thwart such plot, conspiracy, or intention of evil : always esteeming his interest and authority, as the head of the order, paramount to all others. '* I do most sincerely and solemnly swear that I will keep a true, faithful, and permanent register, and forward a copy thereof quarterly to the Father General, of all events, political or religious that may come to my knowledge, and of all persons, by name, residence, and occupation, whether Protestant or Catholic, who may in any wise, or to any extent, ob- struct the progress of our order, or say or do anafA against it ; and by my agents, officers, and emissa* vies, do all in my power to injure their business, and vain their character and fortune. ** I do most sincerely and solemnly swear that i KTStlBISS Of A COWVEitP, 41 Will, at whatever inconTeniMice or sncnfice to my- self, rernir* wiUiout dolay, to Tlk upon the hl^mt SZtSTEBXKS OP A. OONTSKT. 43 coals; <* I spit upon thee, vile cheat, uucompromis- intf enemy of my order. I bum thee ; aud, as thou consumest in that flame, so may all heretics be bum- ed in that fierce flame which shall wreathe itself around them, in that hell prepared for the reception and punishmeut of ail those who put their confidence in thee ; and reject the true Scriptures, the only true and infallible church." As the sacred volume— the charter of human liber- ties—crackled and glowed under the action of the fire, and its smoke ascended heavenward, like the spirit of many a martyr, whose body has been burn- ed by the minions of popery, a shout, wild and fierce, arose from the congregated priests, which shook the room in whose midst they stood ; while again the organ and choristers sent forth Bwelling pssans of praise to " Mary^ the refuge of sinnerS'-the blessed Mother of Qodr " Briug forth the ensign of freedom I" hissed, from between his teeth, the proud Legate, concentrating unutterable hatred in the manner in which he called for the American banner, under whose stars and stripes, Washington and the worthies of the revolu- tion had fought and bled. ** This vile rag," he cried, as the flag of the Union was being uufurled from its staff, *^ fit emblem of those hellish principles which have wrested this no- ble land, with its fertile fields, its majestic rivers, ' and its ocean lakes, from the hands of an imbecile king ; which have revolutionized France; and whioh, if not prevented from spreading, will one day over- turn the thrones, and destroy the ancient establish- ed monarchies of Europe ; that vile rag is more to be dreaded by us, as an order, than all things else, beside the Bible. If it be permitted to pollute the pure air of Heaven bv its foul embrace, for half a century longer, it will float on every tea, on every land, and be the rallying sign for the nations of the ' t^h. It must be torn down; it mnit be trampled 44 ifYstBBXBS ot k ootnrsnT. under foot; it must trail dishououred in the dust, or oar oause is lost. In tokon of your love for the or* der, and determinatiou to uproot liberty — accursed name, more cursed thing ! — tear it from its support, and trample it beneath your feet." Hastily obeying the mandate, the candidate flung the stripes and stars upon the floor, and, with an energy which declared the feelings of his heart, ground them with his heel ; while, in a yoice of thun- der, the Legate cried — '* Jesuits, destroy the enemy of your order. A has la Liberte." lake as a herd of famished wolves rush upon their prey, rending and tearing it in pieces, while growl« ing and screaming in horrible discord, they overturn each other in their efforts to gratify their rapacity : 80 rushed these Jesuits upon the ensign of the world's freedom, and, pushing each other aside, in frautio fury, they soon tore it into a thousand fragments, while their yells and shouts added to the terrible up- roar of the scene. Meanwhile from the choir came forth, in strains of wild excitement, as thouc^h the downfall of man's liberty and the universal triumph of Jesuitism were already secured, and the world were fixed in eternal slavery, civil, political, and re- ligious — the ** Te Deum Laudamus 1 insulting high heaven with blasphemous ascriptions of praise, as though it had been instrumental in a destruction of all that is dearest to man, and of hi<:;he8t apprecia- tion in the sight of God and of the blessed angela. In the meantime, the Legate had received, from an attendant priest, a gorgeous robe, which miglit have well become a monarch, and, when the insult- ing strains had died away, and the priests, at his command, had resumed their places, he advanced to the candidate, who stood near the crucifix, and, throwing the garment upon his shoulders, led him to the throne, and, seating him there, turned to tho priestei layiiig— |B^- \ KT8TBBIS8 Ol^ ▲ OONVSNT. u >rder. Abas «< Behold, Jefuiti, the Father General of the order of St. Ignatius Loyala, for the United States of America; whom I declare daly appoiQted, and in- stalled in that high office. Approach, and do his Lordship reverence." So sayiug, he caused the priests to kneel around the tbroue, and to repeat after him the following sa- lutation and oath of alle j iaiice : — ^* Hail, most worthy Father General, wo honour ttioa! ' ** We solemnly ffwear full and explicit allegiance to you, as the representatiTe of the Father General of the order ; and to obey, without hesitation, or question, any command that you may give to us, while holding the said high office ; here surrendering ourselves body, soul, and spirit, ' as dead corpses,' to your control and government, to be directed and used as your judurmeut, and that of Him whom you represent, may dictate." It was a proud moment for Franoois Jubert; and well did it repay him for the toil, anxiety and effort, which it bad cost him to gain the eminent distinction. A choral burst of melody, swelling the general joy and congratulation, closed the ceremonial ; and the priests, arising from their knees, and preceded by the Legate and their uew Father General, repaired, un- der the conduct of the Superior, to the refectory, where a sumptuous banquet awaited them. CHAPTER X. The Father General's affections for Sister Frances on the wane— RcmoTes her, by instituting her to the office of Superior in the Convent of Annunciation— Her active and proselyting efforts shortly after assuming office— Bmily de Yers^-The Superiors base conduct towards her. Fob some months prior to the OGCurrenees which # 4« SnrSTEBIXS OV ▲ OOKTXNVt * htt?e Just been described, the Motber Superior of the JUmundation, distant some fifty miles feom the city of New York, bad been in very feeble health ; and, among the first acts which the Father General was called upon to perform after his installation into of- fice, was to appoint a superior to fill the vacancy oo« casiooed by her death. ^ He had not lost his attachment to Sister Frances, but, with the inconstancy of the Jesuit character ,|he had for some time past thought it no harm to look upon other pretty faces besides hers ; and his facile conscience saw no impropriety in intri<]:ue8 with other nuns than the good sister, who, exceedingly jealous of her power over him, maintained a most rigid watch upon his conduct ; so vigilant, indeed, that there had already occurred some interesting quarrels between them, which, however, were easily made up, although they left traces of uneasiness be« hind them upon her mind, conscious, as she was, that her personal attractions were not as fresh as once they were. It was, therefore, a great relief to the Father Ge- neral to have it in his power to appoint Sister Fran- ces to the vacancy ; as, while he adroitly persuaded her that it was an honour which he had long been anxious to see conferred upon her, and one for which she was peculiarly qualified, he would thus be re- ' moved from her immediate espionage, and be more at liberty to act as he pleased. Connected with the Convent of the Annunciation, was a very larg^e female boarding-school, which, in the great dearth of the means of education existing at thjbs time, was very extensively patronized by Pro- testant families. This was represented to Sister Frances as being a very strong inducement to her acceptance of the appointment, since it would afford her ample opportunity for the protection of the in- terests of the order, in proselyting to the true faith the children of heretics, who enould be entrusted to ber care. * mrsTSfiXEi OF ▲ oonvbnt* 47 Ambitions of power and of pref ennent ; and luoli an appointmeut as this, with iu oogoate rank and influence in the order, having been an object held in view in the original compact, to which allusion has already been made. Sister Frances felt a sacred joy in its contemplation ; while, at the same time, ner mind misc^ave her somewhat as to the real mo« tives of the Father General ; but when, in an inter* view which she had with him, in her private room, she broached the subject, and be, with well -affected surprise, the most solemn protestations, and fondest caresses, assured her that she was whollv mista- ken ; she suffered herself to be deceived, aua accept- ed the office, as an additional proof of the undimin- ished affection of her priest lover. In the course of a few weeks, she was duly in- stalled Mother Superior of the Convent of Annun- ciation, and entered upon the duties of her new sta- tion, with a spirit and zeal, as well as exhibition of talents of the hicrhest order, which bespoke her adap- tation to it, and presaged a brilliaut career for her in the future. With a tact rarely equalled, and by means of her winning manners, and consummate skill in acoom- modating herself to the peculiarities of those whom the wished to control, she soon succeeded in engaging the affections of the nuns, and especially in securing those of the young ladies who were boarding pupils in the establishment. In the course of five years af- ter her installation, she was the instrument of con- verting not less than thirty -five of the latter to the Romish faith: twelve of whom Joined the order, and became nuns. Amoni; the latter was a Miss Emilie de Vere, a young girl, some sixteen years of age, of surpas- sing beauty, and the only daughter of a wealthT I'lanter in Louisiana, who, having lived in New York for some time before he removed to his southem home, had selected the Convent of the Annnnoia- 48 inrSTBBIXB OF ▲ CONYBHT* ticm, M a suitable place for the edtioation of the obUd, because of its remoteness from the city. Mr. De Vere was descended from Protestant parentage, as was his wife, but thought well of the Catholics, and apprehended no danger in thus placing his daughter in their hnnds, while he went to his far- off home, not expecting to see her again for some three years. Great was the self-gratulation of the Mother Superior, when the rich heiress joined the Catholic church, but g^reator still when she wore the habit of a nun, and bore the imme of Sister Theresa, two years before the time of which we are now writ- ing. In the course of one of his somewhat frequent Tisits to the Convent,— dnrinsr which the Mother Superior was always careful to keep, as much as pos- sible, out of sisrht, nil those nuns who had any pre- tensions to ]iersnnal attractinns, — the Father Gener- al happened to meet Sister Theresa in one of the pas- sages; and, immediately recognising her as one whose great beauty had strongly attracted his no- tice, on the occasion of her taking the religious vows, he entered into conversation with her ; and, while holding her hand in his, and giving her some father- ly advice, the Mother Superior, having occasion to pass that way, unseen by them, had witnessed a por- tion of the interview, and imagined that she saw enough to warrant a jealous feeling on her part, and to determine her to prevent any further occurrence of a similar sort. DisBerobling her true feelings, however, she met the Father General, in half an hour afterwards, with a brow as placid as if nothing had occurred to disturb the quiet current of her emotions. To gratify her vindictiveness, nevertheless, as she dared not reproach the General, she degraded the poor nun, for a mouth, to servile work in the kitch- en, without assigning to her any other reason for so doing, than her own will. IC1l8TBBI£8 of A OONVEXfT* 49 CHAPTER XI. The Pftther GeneraVs vlf^lt to the conyent— Hit Intereit for Sister Theresa— The deformed nun ~ Proposes a meeting at midnizht with Sister Theresa— The Mother 8nperior»i kind entertainment of the Father General in the private parlour— Her chagrin at his abruptly leavin^r her— Sus- pit-i^n— Sister Theresa's sorrow and anxiety at receiv- uip the FatJier*8 note— Her trepidation on meeting the Father Oeneml— He reas'^ures her— His wily 6trata^em8 to accomplish his base object— A wolf in sheep's cloth- ing. * The Father General aprain visited the convent, in about six weeks after this unpleasant occurrence ; and, as he approached the great iron pate, the image of the beautiful nun arose to his mind, and he de- termined, if possible, to learn something more about her; but, aware of the sensitiveness of the Mother Superior, he knew that his inquiries must be made with great caution. There was, in the convent, a deformed nun, who, because of a grudge which she bore to Mother Fran- ces, and of the uniform kindness with which the General had treated her, had, on more than one oc- casion, been of service to him in his intrigues in the convent. He determined to make use of her on this occasion. Accordingly, seizing a favourable moment, he took Sister Martina aside, and asked her who the beauti- ful nun was. The communicative sister answered his question, and said so much about her, and the cruel treatment which she had recently received at the hands of the Mother Superior, for she knew not what offence, as she affirmed, as greatly to enlist his feelings in behalf of Sister Theresa. Hastily writing a few words upon a piece of paper, which he took from his pocket-book, he handed it to the nun ; di« «» mrsxBBxii ov ▲ ooinrsHT* noting her to ffiTO it to Sitter Thereea, and to be dimeet about the matter, taying that he would ie« ward her handaomeljr* if the did not betray his tmet. Then returuiug into the parlour, where he had left the Superior, he chatted gaily with her un- til they were called into the refectory to tea. While seated at the table, the nuns and boarden all present, both the Father General aud the Mother Superior were models of propriety and decorum ; and the for- mer, especially, was careful not to cast even a look which could serve to excite any suspicion in the mind of the Superior, while their juniors were great ly edified by their pious conversation coucerning •ome of the saints, and the miracles that had been wrought by them. Arising from the table, the Mother Frances invit- ed the General to her private parlour, the room in which nha usually entertained him, when he visit- ed the convent. This was one of a suite cf rooms, three in number, set apart for her own special use, and never intruded upon save by her owu invitation or permission : — all of these, save the last, opened Oipon the great passage which ran through the house, on the second floor. The first of this suite was furnished as a private parlour, in very neat and elegant taste. Communicating with this, by means of a sliding pannel, so ingeniously contrived as to be known to but few of the inmates of the family. was a beautiful bed-chamber, most tastefully fitted up ; and beyond this, and accessible only from this room, was a smaller apartment, arranged as an ora- tory, having a mahogany reading desk, a magnificent ebony crucifix, an escritoire inlaid with mother of pearl^ and some hanging shelves, upon which weie arranged a number of elegantly-bound volumes-^ the entire suite of rooms was handsomely carpeted, and abounded with indications of female t&dQ and refinement. Having seated themselves upon a sofa placed at one side of the private parlor, and conversed fof SmUBBIES OF ▲ OONVBirTt SI lome time upon ^neral subjeots, the Superior aroM^ and, taking from a small sideboard a nobly eat de« caoter of old wiue, with some glasos, and a plate of delicious spided oakes, which she had prepaied with her own bauds, she placed these upon a table which stood in front of the sofa, and invited the General to partake of them, and to join her in a same at chess, of which she knew he was passionately fond, aud for which she had arranged the materiala before him. They thus occupied themselves until the convent clock tolled the hour of eleven, when the Father General, pleading a headache, and affectionately as well as most gracefully saluting the Mother Supe« rior, asked leave to retire to his own apartment, which was situated on the first floor, and ele^^antly furaished. This the latter rather ungraciously granted, with an air which showed that she was disappointed ; and the priest retired. Meanwhile, the note had been handed to Sister Theresa, by the deformed nun, and had greatly ex- cited her mind by its contents. <* Meet me in the garden, near the plum tree, alone, at midnight :"— she repeated, for the twen« tieth time, as she sat in her room, with the note in her hand, thinking over its contents. ** What can he mean P" And then, as the thought that his intentions towards her might be those of evil flashed across her mind, she burst into tears, ex- claiming — " What have I done or said, that could lead him to think so meanly of me ?" '* Have I not spumed the base overtures of my own confessor. Father Jerome P" "Gracious heaven, into what hands havel fallen P" Here a sense of her helpless condition, as a poor, fnendless, and unprotected nun, was forced upon her mmd, with such terrible conviction, that the be* Jjn^jfea^ully agitated ; and throwing herself upon the bed, she wept as if her very heart woidd bi^du 1 1 52 ICTSTBBXBS OV i. COKVXirr. <' O that I had known all this," she said, her Toice broken by sobs—** before I took the tows 1— How sadly have I been deceived !'' *' O, what shall I do 1* Where shall I hide myself? My honour, my life, is hunted b)r those who made me TOW eternal chastity and purity !'* '* But recently I was degraded to the condition of a menial, I kuownot why ; and now this priest, as U he were master of an eastern harem, and I bis Georgian slave, bids me meet him alone in the gar* den at midnight ! Qood Gbd, what does this meau F" ** O that I were once more within reach of my dear father ! how gladly would I fly to him for protection !" She again burst into tears, and wept most bitter- ly : then, as a sudden thought occurred to her miud, she started up, exclaiming — ** It may be so. Perhaps Sister Martina may have intimated to him that I have been badly treated, and, in order to know all about it, without the dan- ger of being interrupted by the Mother Superior, or m order to keep her from knowing that he had spokeo to me on the subject, he may have selected this time and place with a view to secresy. It must be so." The more she thought about the matter, the r.ore fully convinced she became that this was the true state of the case ; and while she felt grateful to the good Father, as she now called him, when she re* garded him as intending to befriend her, she re- proached herself for having thought so ungeuerous- ty of him. The idea of being revenged on the Mo- ther Superior, dried up her tears ; and she determin- ed to keep the appointment. It now wanted but a few minutes to twelve; and, wrapping herself up in a heavy shawl, to guard against the chilly midnight air, and, with her heart beating wildly within her breast, she left her room, and noiselessly creeping down the great stairway, pausing at almost every step, as she fancied that •ome one had diseovered her ; while she started at 1IT81X&11S8 Of A oomrENV. 08 the very pontiugs of Ler owu bosom, she reached the iack door of the hall ; where, fiudiii<; the key in the lock, she turued it with great caution, and then, elowly opening one side of the folding leaves, so at to avoid any creakiuj; which might give notice of her movements, and looking out intently to see if any one was passing about, she went forth, quietly drawing the aoor to behind her, and, with quick and silent step, hastened to the garden. It was a moon* light night, but hazy and somewhat cloudy. On arriving at the spot which had been designat- ed in the note, she was surprised to find that there was no one there but herself ; and she was about to conclude that she was the victim of some treacher- ous plot, when she beheld the Father General rapid- ly approaching her. On reaching her, he extended his hand, in the kindest manner, saying, as he did so : ** Thanks, Sister Theresa, for this evidence of your confidence in your Father General. I was half afraid that you would not meet me here, at this lonely hour ; and that I should be deprived of the opportu- nity of doing you a kindness. But," added he, perceiving that she trembled as he spoke to her, ** fear not, my child ; I mean you no harm ; but will protect you from all injury and insult." Reassured by these words, which she believed to be sincere ; and feeling ashamed of her previous mis- givings with regard to the Father's intentions, which now seemed to be so wholly unfounded, the nun thanked him for hit kind consideration, and said — ** I have every confidence in the honour of the Fa* ther General, and cannot suppose that he would be- tray that confidence." "Never," replied the wily Jesuit, who quickly perceived the change that had been wrought in the feeliugs of the trusting girl ; for she no longer trem- bled, nor soemed disposed, as at first, to withdraw her hand from his. , *" I have heard/' h% oontbuedi ^no matter how «4 htstsbum ov k ooMviuif. 6or from whom, of the cruel oondact of the Saperir.r towards you, reoeotlv ; and I with you to tell me, if you can, why she did so P" *' I kDOw not," replied Sister Theresa. ** I haro •ndeaToured faithfully to perform every knowu duty, and to comply, as far as I could, with every rale of the institution. I have always treated the Mother Superior with marked respect ; reudering instant obedience to her everv command ; and I can- not imagine why she suddenly, and without assign- ing any reason whatever for it, iDflicted so severe a punishment upon me, and degraded me so iu the eyes of the whole convent. Had the punish meut teen continued for a short time longer, I should have been seriously ill, for my health is but delicate at the best." ** When did she order you to this menial service F" asked the Father, eagerly. *' On the verv day that you left the convent, on your last visit before the present," replied the nun. ** I see it all," muttered the priest, as if commun- ing with bis own thoughts ; '* it is as plain as it can be. Poor fool, to think that I belong to her, soul and body, and that I cannot be civil to a pretty nun, but that instantly, as soon as mv back is turned, the poor nun must be a victim of her jealousy and wratn. Pshaw !" he continued, as if still talking to himself; ** she shall suffer for this." Then, seem- ing to recollect himself, he said to Sister Theresa. ^* Never mind. I am your friend and protector. I have the right and the power to shield yon from oppression and from insult ; and, should your feel- ings ever be outraged again, I require you to let me know it at once, that I may take the necessary steps to redress the wrong. Meanwhile, say nothing, but leave this matter in my hands.'* '* I know not how sufficiently to thank you for your kindness," responded the nun ; her heart real); touched by wbi^t she beUofod to bo the siDoere mrsnotns op a oownat. U Denial servioe ?" frieudship of the Father General, and fallj prepar- ed to feel all its force, hj the lonely life that she DAd led— a life BO full of disappoiutment an to the ex- pectations which the had formed when entering on the religious duties of a nun— and, with the teart standing upon her cheek, she continued, ** but if you will show me how I may eyince my gratitude, I will most cheerfully do it." ^ Tou can show your gratitude. Sister Theresa, by loving me," replied the priest, in low and thrillinff tones, gently putting his arm around her waist, and drawing ber to him, on nretence, as he said, of pro* tecting her from the cool night air ; but, as he per- ceived that she shrank from his embrace, he added, ** Fear not, mv child ; I love you too well to mean you any harm. He then entered into a lengthy conversation with ber, touching ber studies, her. employments, and what not that was likely to interest her mind, and inspire her with confidence; and then, telling her it was time that they should return to the house, he inquired the number of ber room, and its position in the building ; saying to her that, on the following night, he would visit her there, in order to instruct ber bow to spend her time in the future, so as to prepare herself to occupy the position of Mother Duperior, in ber own turn, when she should be a lit« tie older and more experienced. Meanwhile, the wily priest kept his arm around Sister Theresa, and, walking thus to the house, he gave ber what he called the kiss of peace, at part- ing, and each sought their own room; the former feeling assured that ho had gained a victory ; the latter, as she bad never done before in all her life ; her soul a sea of tumultuous emotion. The Fa- ther General soon fell asleep, and dreamed of beau- Wul nuns and bowers of roses ; the unhappy Sister Ihereia laid awake for houre, tossing restlesdj upon heroouoh. She felt that she wm caught in tbtooiis 69 srrsTisBifiS of a convkwt. of the priest, and that it was as useless for her to Btru^fi^le a^aiust what seemed to be her inevit ,h!e destiny, as for the poor fly, caught in thp meshes of the spider's web. to attempt to escnpe its inipemlinj? fate. She felt that she was powtrlpss in the li.iuds ^f an all-powerful foe ; and, thou^ h she deeply re- fretted having kept the appointment, and met the *ather in the {garden, yet, strange to say, she chd not after all wish to avoid the meeting on the foUowiug night. In truth, the arch magician had infused his poison into her young soul ; and his foul necromancy nad thrown a spell upon her, which she no longer desired, or had the strength, to break. She was doomed, and yet she trembled not ; she was in cha,in8, and still she hugged those chains to her breast, and seemed to delight in wearing them. The priest had silenced her monitory fears ; had thrown her off her guard ; had awakened feelings of gratitude, wliich were easily transmuted to otliers of a warmer na- ture; and the hellish work was well ni^h completed —the consummation waited but for the occasion. Oh, ye self-annointed, self-exalted priests, that put yourselves ** above all that is called God, or that 18 worshipped;" "sitting in the temple of God, showing yourselves that ye are God ;*' *' whose com- ing is after the working of Satan, with all power, and signs, and lying wonders, and with all deceiv- ableness of unrighteousness ;" ye " false prophets;" ye " ravening wolves in sheep's clothing ;" ye " bliud guides," that " compass sea and land to make one proselyte ; and, when he is made, ye make him two- fold more the child of hell than yourselves ;" ye smooth-faced hypocrites that devour virgin inno- oenoe, " and, for a pretence, make long prayers;" ye .j priests, that work your damning deeds, in the dark shrouding of the midnight hour; and then, with unblushing countenance, go forth in broad day, and look honesty in th>:^ eye ; when the dispartiug veil of ttemity shall be diawn asida, and the judgment HrrSTEBIES OF A OONVEST. 57 trump shall sammon you to stand before the drea^ bar of Him whose searching gaze now penetrates your convent walls, your monastic cells, your dark hiding-holes, where works " themystery of iniquity," and reads all your damnable crimes as thougn they stood emblazoned in the face of the noontide sun ; ah ! how will ye (juail then ! how will ye seek to es« cape the fearful inspection of that hour, in the pre- sence of a congregated universe, and unbidden try to hide yourselves, and your hellish deeds, in the depths of eternal night ! But know, ** ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, ye cannot escape the dam- nation of hell ;" ** the Lord shall consume you with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy you with the brightness of his coming." Babylon '* shall be utterly burned with fire ; for strong is the Lord God who judgeth her." CHAPTER Xn. Interregnum— The family of Mr. Moreton— Discussion on the education given in boarding-schools. The reader must now suffer himself to be carried forward over an interval of three years, and be pre- sented to an interesting family circle, whose mem- bers will have a large share in the scenes of the fol- lowing pages. Mr. and Mrs. Moreton were the parents of an in- teresting family, consisting of two sons and three daughters, living in the town of , in the state of Pennsylvania, about eighty miles from the city of New York. Mary, the eldest of the five children, was a hand- some brunette, just entered into her seventeenth year, and had been wholly educated in her native •]r"i 'f "J^*» *^« next in age, was fourteen, and gmed with strong natural powers of mind, but not 224 P 58 MTSTKBIES OF A COJrVTINT. I'tt as haudsomd aa her sister Mary. Mrs. Moreton waa a ladf of azcelleut Judgment and refined manners, but, like her husband, — who was a merchant, in very comfortable circumstances —not a member of any church. Haying received a better education than her companion, she had, in matters of this sort, ao- quired considerable influence over him ; while, with tne sagacity and prudence of a business man, he looked narrowly to the expenses, and was, to a cer- tain extent, liable to the charge of penuriousness; Tet he dearly loyed his family, and was willing to incur any reasonable outlaj^, for anything he thought would promote their happiness, or secure their ad- vancement in life. One winter eyening, after tea, when the young children had been sent to the nursery, Mary having gone to a party at a neighbour's, and Julia being seated at a table by herself, engaged in preparing her lessons for the next day, Mr. and Mrs. Moreton were sitting in their snug back parlour, by a blazing fire, talking over domestic matters, when the follow- ing conversation occurred between them : " I think, Mr. Moreton, that we ought to send Ju- lia to a good hoarding school. She is fast growing vp to womanhood ; her teachers here cannot in- struct her much further; and, besides, there are many advantages to be enjoyed at such a school, which she cannot possibly have at home." " Why so P Have we not good teachers in our town, as good as an v where else P I am sure that Mr. Treadwell has advanced Julia very rapidly ; and I heard you tell Mrs. Winslow, the other day, that ■he had learned more, in the same length of time, under his instruction, than from any other teacher to whom she had ever been sent." " Very true, my dear, and yet 1 discover that Ju- lia is greatly interrupted in her studies, by the com- panv which hsr sister receives ; and when visiton •r9Ui Ilicdrawiiig-ioMa with Mary, Jalisisemi to tftSTlEBIBS 09 A OOllVEllt. JO think it very hard, indeed, that she must sit up stairsf and study. I find, too, that her head is full of dress, and jewellery, and parties, and beaux, young as she is ; and, when she passes through the streets on her way to. school, she sees a great deal to divert her mind from her books. Besides, these mixed schools may do well enough for younger children, but Julia is too old to go any longer to one where boys and girls are taught together. In short, I think it high time that she should be sent from home, to a good boarding school, for at least two years." **Well, but I do not see what you would gain* by sending her to such a school, even on your own showing. Will she not be as fond of dress there as here, and will she not find quite as much to distract her mind from study ?" " Certainly not. In a well-regulated boarding school, every thing is taken care of, and provided for, even to the minutest details. Extravagance in dress, and fondness of display, are discouraged as much as possible ; and, indeed, there are no incentives or opportunities for either, since the young ladies are seldom seen upon the streets, and the vii#8 of young men are forbidden : while, on the other hand/ by means of a systematic arrangement of time-^- useful occupation being found for every hour ; — th%' presence of teachers of the very best abilities, who have adopted the business as a profession, and not as a merely temporary means of support ; and the stimulus to study which is furnished by the compe- tition of a number of schoolmates, for the honours of the institution, a healthful ambition is excited, and habits are formed, which not only greatly faci- litate the acquirements of a thorough educaUon, but are of essential service in after days, when school- books are laid aside, and the sterner duties of life make hourly demands upon onr industry, patienoe, and fortitude.'' ''And itill it seems to me that, If the same v;fiA>nk i k i f I' ■^; I!!ll «0 UkffTJBKXBS 09 A OOHt^Htf, ,jmd discipline were established at home, which yon Bay are to be met with in these boardiug schools, aud whose importance I readily admit, the same results mightbe secured, and certainly at much less expense/' " Impossible, Mr. Moreton I how can I, ia the midst of home distractions, and with such a family as I have, adopt any such course P The house is to be kept ; the younger children are to be attended to ; company to be entertained ; visits to be return- ed ; Mary requires a large share of my time aud care ; for her education, conducted entirely at home, is exceedingly defective ; and this reminds me of one most important advantage that is derived from these Bohools, — the early formation of habits of self-relU arice. Now, you know what a baby Mary is ; and yet she is seventeen. She cannot move without me. All day long it is, * Ma, show me how to do this ;'— ' Ma, do go to such a place with me, or out shop- Sing;' — *Ma, will you fix my hair, or adjust my ress r — * Ma, will you just go into the parlour with me to see my company r I cannot go alone.' I do verily believe that it would be the same thiug if she were married, and that she would not be willing to So to housekeeping without me. It is not so with [iss Bamsey, or Miss Paterson, who were both playmates of Mary's, when they were children, and you know that they were educated at boardiug schools. They were amiable, modest, and accomplished young ladies; and yet they make their own dresses ; assist their mother in keeping house ; are handy at almost everv thing; are always self-possessed and agreeable in their manners ; and, for all I can see, love their parents just as fondly as Mary does hers ; while they are not dependent upon their mammas, as she is upou me. I do not know what Mary would do if I were to be taken away from her, or what she will do when she it married." '* Well, my dear, I see yon have thought a _ deal mora about these fhmgs than I have; andl lETSTBBIBS OT A CONVSNT* 61 am therefore willing to try the experiment, next spring, for one session. If the result is satisfactory, we will continue Julia at some good boarding-school until she graduates ; if not, she must come home, and finish her education here." " But, Mr. Morton, believe me, that is not the wav to try the experiment, as you call it ; it does not af- ford time enough to do the matter justice; and I really believe that one session only would be both time and money thrown away. Send her with the expectation of continuing for one year, or not at all." " Be it so, then ; but where shall we send her P Have you made choice of any school, in your mind P' ** I have been thinking of two schools ; but really 80 far as I have any means of judging, there ap- pears to be but little, if any, difference between them. Both have their ministers of high standing, who have employed, as assistants, the best teachers, I am told, within their reach ; and have equal faci- lities, I suppose, for the education of those who may be sent to them. The oue is at Philadelphia, and the other near New York ; and, as the former is rather more couvenieut for us, as well as cheaper than the other, I should prefer it :— besides, it is in our owa State." ** Ah !— these Protestant schools are too expensive for me, my dear ; I cannot afford to send Julia to oue of them. Why not send her to oue of the Ca- tholic schools?" *' Mr. Morton, you astonish me I— Send her to a Catholic school ! Would you have our Julia to be made a Catholic P" ** And why, pray, should that be the result P I do not see that it follows, as a necessary result." '* It may not as a necessary result, but it appears to me to be a verv natural one. I must confess that my Protestant education inclines me to look upon Bomish institutions with a very suspicious eye ; and my obsenatioii in life hi^ t>ut ooufirined m^ preji^* ifi h * i'l 6» KTCmBBIES OV ▲ OOKTBNT. li dioe on this subject, if preludioe it oan be properly termed. Did not Miss Williams, after having been at a Catholic school for about a year^ write home to her mother, for permission to be baptized by a priest, and join the church ? And you recollect that Miss Beaumont, when at our house, on her way to the nunnery school, where she had been for a year or two, told you that she believed the Boman Catholic to be the ouly true reliafiou ; givin^r as her reason that it was more probable that the translation of the Bible, which was made by the Pope and his Cardi« nals, should be truer than that made by one man, King James of England ; and when you asked her where she had got that precious piece of iuforma- tion, she replied that sister Agatha had told her so. And yet the parents of both these young ladies are strict Protestants, and members of the Presbyterian Church. You, doubtless, remember, too, to have heard, also, of a young laiy, whose name I do not recollect, but who was the daughter of Protestant parents, and who, having graduated at a Catholic '^ohool, determined to become a uun, and refused to leave the institution, even to pay a farewell visit to her friends, before separating herself for ever from them. Indeed I have never conversed with Protes* tants who had been educated by Catholic teachers, that would suffer one word to be said, in their hear- ing, in di8para<;emeut of that church. Now all this confirms me in the fear that, if our dau^rhter should be sent to a Catholic school, she will either become a member of that faith, or be so weakened in her attachment to her own, as seriouslv to be injured by it, if« indeed, the result do not tend to infidelity.'' ** Well, my dear you are certainly very eloquent on the subject, and yet you have failed to convince me that your fears have any other foundation than prejudice; and while, if I thought there was any real danger, I should be quite as unwilling as your- 1^ to exjK)8e Julia to it« { ag^ eouyiuced| J, muft ICTSTBBXBS OV JL OOVYBKT. ea •y one man, give my preference to that school which costs the lea8t,_proYided the educational advantages are equal, and I presume they are. I therefore prefer that Julia should go to the nunnery school." '* It does seem to me, Mr. Moreton, that there must be some mistake as to the superior cheapness of the Catholic schools, in fact, while I admit that in appearance they are so. Are you sure that they are cheaper in the eud F" " I have seen and compared the circulars put forth by both sides; and certainly so far as these, in their respective statements of terms, &c., afford proper data upon which to form an opinion, the Catholic schools seem to have the decided advantage : but I am aware that, after all, it is exceedingly difBlcult to arrive at the truth of the matter in this way. The only sure method of determining the question, is to compare the bill as made out and paid at the close of the sessions." ** Yes— and I know that many parents have been greatly disappointed when they called for their billS|. and found them so much higher than they had ez« pected, by reason of extra charges, as more than to equal the difference in the apparent cost of educa- tiou at these Catholic schools, as set forth in these circulars. And then, there ia such a thing, you know, as finding a cheap article of little real value after you have bought it, when a small addition to the outlay at the time of purchase would have bought one infinitely superior, and of permanent worth. "Well, my dear, it grows late: suppose we de- fer the further consideration of this matter for a few days, until I shall return from New York, where I must go, next week, for goods." So saying, the subject was dropped for the pres« ent ; and, Mary having returned from the party, af« ter a lively conversation upon the incidents of the evening that she had spent at their neighbour'sk ^be family retired for the night. - 64 SCTSTEBISS OF A 00K7BNT* CHAPTER Xni. Mr. Iforeton vislta New York— His conTorsation with Mr. YanduRen— Its effect upon Mr. Moreton—Mr. Yaiidu»> c&'b letter to the Mother Superipr. Dtjbino the following week, Mr. Moreton wentto New Tork, to purchase (roods ; and, while sitting in tiie counting-room of Messrs. Vandusen and Co., whom he dealt with largely, waiting for his bills to be made out, the senior partner remarked to him^ ^ By the way, Mr. Moreton, you have a family, liaTeyou not P "Yes, sir," was the reply—" a wife and five child- ren; three of whom are daughters." " Where are you educating them ?" asked the rner- dhant. " The oldest has finished her education," returned Mr. Moreton — ** but the next oldest ought to be sent to a boarding-school somewhere, and I must confess I am greatly at a loss where to place her. I would like to send her to the Catholic school at Bethle- hem, because it is so much cheaper than our Pro- testant schools ; but Mrs. Moreton is so opposed to trusting her daughter in the hands of the Catholics, that I do not like to say positively she shall go there." ^It is very natural, indeed, that the women ahould feel thus opposed to these Catholic schools. My wife, for instance, was violently opposed to them ; but they are, after, all, the best schools, my dear sir, depend upon it. Our oldest daughter has been for two years at the convent school, some fifty milea from this city ; notwithstanding the opposi- tion of her mother, who reluctantly yielded to my wishes in the matter; and I assure jou that she is Qiakiofp most astonishing pro^ss \a hej sti^diefi UT8TEBZSS OV A OONTBNV* 65 nd five child- skedthemer* Mrs. Vandnsen, findiDg this to be the case, has be- oome quite reconciled, and now sees the folly of her former dislike to these institutions." ** But you have a very excellent boarding school in your own city, I am told, conducted by a Presby« tenan minister ; I should have thought that you would have patronized that school, as you belong to that denomination/' remarked Mr. Moreton, in an interrogative tone. ** So I do helong to that denomination, my dear mr, but I do not feel as if I were under any obliga- tion, for that reason, to pay fifty per cent, more for the education of my daughter at a Presbyterian school, than I would have to pay at one belonging to the Catholics. These Protestant schools are too high for me, Mr. Moreton ; I cannot stand their an« couscionable prices." **That is just what I told Mrs. Moreton ;" — was the reply, in a tone that evinced the gratification of the speaker at finding that he was not mistaken in his views, as expressed to his wife ; for he was ex- ceedingly tenacious of his opinions — " but she was under the impression that the extras which are charged in the bills, made the Catholic schools the most expensive, after all." ** It is a mistake, my dear sir, depend upon it,"— said the merchant— "at least such has not been my experience ; and the * truth of the pudding* — you know the rest. I surely ought to know all about it, after two years* experience." Mr. Moreton felt perfectly satisfied upon the point of expense, but asked Mr. Vandusen to tell him, candidly, what he thought about the efforts of the priests and nuns to proselyte Protestant child- ren to the Romish faith; and whether he had any reason to believe that they had tampered with the wligious faith of his daughter. "It is all humbug, sir;"- replied the latter, with Borne w^pith of pawner,—" the result of se^ti^an inSIBBZBS OV JL OOM VEiiV* '111 k bigotry. I am astonithed, as a praotioal man, that ■eniible people should have raised such a hue and cry about the proselyting disposition of the Catho- lics. I assure you that I do not belieye a word of it.** Mr. Moreton thauked the merchant for his iofor- mation, and expressed his determination to send his daughter, the next spring, to the Catholic school at Bethlehem. «*But," replied Mr. Vandnsen, " is not that too near home, sir P My advice to you would be, not to send your daughter where she would be anxious to oome home every week, because it was so short a distance to travel, and where she would be dissatis* fied if she did not get to visit her friends frequent- ly ; but to place her at school at such a distance as to make it inconvenient for her to go homo oftener than once in six months, since her mind would he undisturbed by the proximity of her relations, and her progress in her studies would consequently he the greater ;" and assured Mr. Moreton that he con- sidered the school to which he sent his own daughter, the verjT best in all the country. Convinced by his arguments, Mr. Moreton thank- ed the merchant again, and, having settled his hills, bade him farewell, and returned to the hotel where he was stopping. No sooner had he left the counting-room, than Mr. Yaudusen, with great glee expressed in bis countenance, sat down at his desk, and wrote the following letter, which he despatched to the post office. " New York, December 6, 1810. '* To the Mother Superior of the Convent of the Annunciation. "DkabMat>am, '* I have just had a long conversation with one of my customers, a Mr. Charles Moreton, of Ponitsyl^ ▼aula. He is a wealthy merchant, having, two 4aughtei:s to be ^ucated; one of whem he will oo innsf&BXES oy a oojn vent* 67 donbt send to yon next spring ; and the other, in due time, if he should be pleaeed. I found his head fuU of the usual notions about extras^ and praaelyting, and all that, but succeeded in sweeping the cobwebs from his brain. I thiuk }rou may oertainl v calculate upon his bringing you his daughter in the spring. When she arrives, you will credit my account with twenty dollars, according to our contract. I hope my daughter's health is good, and that she procuresses well in her studies. The affair of the comet on swimmingly. I shall, without doubt, get that money secured to the order. " With tide highest consideration, I remain " Your unworthy servant. CHAFTEBXIV. Mr. Moreton's sanguine partiality to Oatholio schoole— Mrs. Moreton*8 fears auv.^ douhts— Julia sent as a board- er to the Convent of the Annunciation — Mr. and Mrs* Moreton attend the first examination^Engaging man* ners of the Mother Superior— Extras— The partots re- ceive alarming inteUigence— Distress and anxiety — Mr* Moreton hastens to snatch his child from her impend- ing doom— Arrives at the CoTivent, and demands to see his daughter— Falsehood and treachery of the Mother Superior— Julia rushes into her father'a arms, and is borne by him firom the hated Convent. When Mr. Moreton returned home, he related to his wife the conversation which had taken place be- tween himself and Mr. Vaudusen; laying great stress upon the fact that the latter was a member of the Presbyterian Church,— than which none had a more inveterate hostility towards the Catholics, or had done more to expose the errors of their doctrines, or the enormity of their practices ; and, as he said, |t spoke Tolinnes in refutation of the slanders whioli 68 1ITBTEBXB8 OV ▲ OOWESTt, had been beaped upon the Catholics, that a Presby. terian should bear such testimony as he had borne to the excellence of the oonyeut school, the cheap. ness of its terms, and the ahseuce of intentiou or ef- fort to proselyte the children of Protestant parents. Withal, the fact that he was sending his own dau^hi ter to this same school, and his highly respectable standing as a merchant, forbade the idea of any in. sincerity, or want of sufficient intelligence upon the •abject. Still Mrs. Moreton was not convinced, in spite of all this array of imposing testimony ; and, while her husband gently insinuated that she was very obsti. Date in her prejudices, she could not wholly rid her mind of apprehension, or be brought to believe that there was no real danger incurred in sending Julia to a Catholic school. But finding that it was useless to argue the mat* ter any further with Mr. Moreton, she reluctantly yielded the point ; hoping that she might be able to lortify Julia s mind so strongly against the wiles and sophistry of a crafty priesthood, so that she might safely pass the fiery ordeal which she fully believed was about to be placed before her child ; and wb>D, in the following spring, the time fixed for the de- parture of Julia with her father for the conveut school, arrived ; and the vehicle which bore them away, receded from her view, she returned from the street door into her sitting room, with a heavy heart, feeling as though a dark cloud, surcharged with evil, had gathered over herself and family. On his return, after having placed Julia at school, bis wife had a thousand anxious questions to be au- Bwered ; all of which he answered so readily, and with such apparent satisfaction to himself, that her fears were ouieted, and hope gained the ascendant. Be informed her that, on their arrival at the con* vent, after a fatiguing but rather pleasant journey qI f oiir days, the Mother Superior, whom he xepi^ anrsTBsns of ▲ oonvsi^. 69 seiited as a lovely Frenoh womaD, in the prime of life and of most elegant manners, received bim with the qreatest kindness, and throwing hor arms around Julia, kissed bor affectionately, welcoming her to the institution, and promising to he a mother to her, while she continued there ; that Julia had found one or two old acquaintances among the pu- pils, and seemed to he satisfied ; and that, on his expressing a wish that his daughter's principles should in no way he interfered with, she assured bim, in the most frank and positive manner, that he need not entertain any fears on that subject, as they had no desire to make proselytes of the children of Protestant parents. *' lu short/' added Mr. Moreton, " she is one of the most agreeable ladies I have ever met with ; and I feel well assured that our daughter is placed in good hands." Five months passed away, and the summer vaoa- tion came on. Mr. Moreton and his lady had at* tended the examination ; and, although Julia's pro* gress did not meet their expectation, yet they sup- posed that this might be attributed to the novelty of the position in which she had been placed—away from home, amon^ strangers, for the first time in her life— and they mdulged the hope that she would do better, the next session. On calling for his bill, he was surprised to find that it was larger than he had anticipated. There was 80 much charged as an extra item for this, and so much for that ; so much for fuel, and for room rent, aud for stationery, and for medical attendance, al- though she had not been sick an hour during the entire time I and so much for store goods, &c. ; amounting m all to some thirty or forty ner cent, more than he had expected. Unwilling, no wever, to dispute the account ; fascinated as he was by the elegant manners of the Mother Superior, and grati- BM by the deference and respect which were shown i\ \ 70 BnrCTBKIES OF A OOWBXn. to himself and wife, by all the ininates of the family he paid the bill, without a word of complaint ; re- BolviDg in his own mind, that for the future, he would take care to avoid all extras, by furnishing every thinjc^ from home, as far as practicable, and by prohibiting the opening of store accounts for his daughter's use. Besides, he prided himself, as a bu- siness man, upon his tact and foresight ; and, Mrs. Moreton being present, when the settlement was made with the accountant, though she was engaged in conversation with the Mother Superior, he was very unwilling that she should know that he had been outwitted ; especially when so much had been said on this very point, prior to placing Julia in the institution. Julia appeared pleased to revisit her home ; bnt her mother was pained to find that she did not mani- fest as great an attachment to it, as before leaviog it for school ; and that she more than once wished for the time to come when her father was to take her back. She found, too, that her daughter loved to talk of the Mother Superior, and of sister this, and sister that, frequently extolling their great kind- ness to her, their piety, and their happy condition; seeming to think that the life of a nun was the very beau-ideal, with her, of human happiness on earth. When Mrs. Moreton would attempt to combat this notion, she found Julia disposed to be wayward, and to resent the attempt as an insult, by implication, offered to those whom she so highly esteemed. Know- ing her impulsive nature, however, and how eveiv novelty that pleased her was wont to effect her mind, she thought this a mere girlish effervescence of mo- mentary excitement, and that after a while, when the novelty had worn off, she would see things ins truer light. At loigth oame the day for Julia's return to school ; and her mother, having given her much ex- cellent advloe^ and made her promiae to wiite,eithfli „*• m'li anrsTBurEB of ▲ ooavbmt. 71 to herself or to her father, once a f ortnifirht, bade her adieu. Arriyedatthe couTent, Mr. Moreton and Julia were received with similar demonstrations of kindness to those which had marked their first re- ception, while there seemed to be more of familiar cordiality in the attentions paid to them ; and the former, having given the necessary instructions as to his daughter's expenses, left her ; congratulating himself that he had effectually guarded against heavy hills, for the future. The second session had expired, daring which Julia's letters had been received regiilarly, in keep- ing with her promise; and, there being no vacation between that and the ensuing session, she did not come home, her father's business engagements pre- venting him from going to her; but, as her mother's anxiety about her was greatly quired by the regu- larity with which her letters arrived, and the im- provement both in style and penmanship which they mdicated, it was determined that she should remain for the third term* But after Julia had been thas at school, fifteen months, and when her parents were congratulating themselves upon the selection which they had made of a school for her— albeit Mr. Moreton had ascer- tained, bevond all question, that in point of econo- my he had gained nothing, since it had cost him something more, at this professedly cheap school, for the education of his daughter, thus far, than it would have cost him at Protestant schools, which bad been denounced as being so unconscionably ex- travagant in their charges; a letter was received from Julia, which filled their minds with dismay and deep anxiety for the future. It was written at great length, evidently with studied care, and in a style so wholly different from her former letters, or from anything that might have been reasonably ez- P^^d of her, as to oonvinoe them that Bh« bad not d 1^" ^m«lf,but oopied it from tiM diotation 72 irrSTSBIBS OF ▲ OOFTEITT. After thanking her parents, in very measured terms, for their care and affection hitherto mani. fested towards her, and particularly for having Jilaced her at the convent school, where she had en- oyed so rare advantage, and spent the happiest pe- riod of her existence— she proceeded to state that, without any efforts having heen made, on the part of her teachers, to hias her mind, or to change her religious faith, she had become convinced that the Catholic was the only true faith ; that all beside was heresy ; and that she felt it to be her imperative duty to join the Catholic church, and, at the pro])er age, to Decome a nun ; but that the respect— iha.t was the cold word which she addressed to her kind and affectionate parents— the respect which she enter- tained for t^t-m, constrained her to ask their con- sent, before she took so important a step— adding, that she hoped they would not withhold this, since, in that event, she must obey God rather than man, and should proceed, in spite of their refusal. None but those who live only for their children, ftnd feel that these constitute the end and object of all their plans and purposes, can imagine the feel- ings which rushed tumultuously into the bosoms of the father and mother, as they perused this harrow- ing letter. They seemed to themselves to have been sleeping, in fancied security, on the very brink of a frightful precipice, and to have suddenly awakened to find it crumbling under them, and ready to carry them with it, in its headlong plunge into the yawn* ing abyss beneath. The mother sat in speechless grief; while the scalding tears ran down her cheeks. The father, feeling that his own penuriousncsshad rendered him deaf to the warnings of his wife, when her fears led her, in the outset, to deprecate the step that had wrought this mischief, was self-reproached and self -condemned ; yet, recollecting that the in- terposition of his authority might and could avert the impending evili did not give way to his feelings, irnttfittlBS of A 00K7EK1P* ?8 but stood pale, stern, and with contracted brow, tbinking what course he had best pursue. For somo minutes, neither uttered a word. It was noon— and the un tasted meal had for some time stood unnoticed on the board : no member of that unusually so happy family felt any inclination to partake of it. There they sat, as if death, or worse than death, had snatched away one beloved of all. At length the mother, with a strongs effort, broke the painful silence, and said, in the tones of one nerved by urgent resolution to a decisive step. ^* Mr. Moreton, we must go to Julia. She cannot resist the appeal of a mother's love. We will save her yet." " We will start at once," was the prompt reply of the determined father ; and, giving immediate or- ders that the carriage should be got ready, they were soon on their way to rescue their child from the imminent ruin which threatened. Having travell':land smile upon her oouutenaQce. ** She is ill in bed, and cannot be seen." '*I am her father, and must see her;'*— and, as be thus spoke, with increased ener^ry of manner, he took a step forward, as thou<;h he would force hifl way to the apartment of bis daughter. The Superior, however, anticipating his purpose, instantly rose, and, intercepting him, stood full in bis way, between him and the door. Then, drawing herself up to her full heio^ht, while she assumed an air of offended dii^nity, — a slight fluah of excitement playing upon her really beautiful countenance,— answered Quietly, but (irmly— ^ I rule here, sir ; and I say to you that you can- not see your daughter. I say to you, further, thai $h$ does not wish to see you" «< Doef not wish to M§li«r lather r Whaldoai ttTSTEBI|» OF ▲ OONVBMT. 75 this mean ?*'— inquired Mr. Moreton, his whole manner indicating the greatest surprise . and agita- tion of soul. ** Because she has renounced you, together with all the vain ties of this sinful world, and claims the protection of this sanctuary ;"— haughtily answer- ed the Superior. "It is false!"— thundered the outracred parent, who, now wrou<;ht up to the highest pitch of ex- citement, was ahout to push the Superior aside, and would doubtless have ommitted some act of vio- lence, but, just at this moment, his daughter, who had by some means learned the arrival of her fa- ther, or heard his voice in altercation with the Mo- ther Superior, rushed into the room, her dress greatly disordered, and, passing by the latter, who &ied in vain to arrest her, threw herself into his arms, crying, in accents which thrilled to his in- most soul—*' Father, save me ! 0, save me!" Clasping her to his bosom with an energy that mocked all interference, for he was a powerful man, the father cast a look of proud defiance up- on the no longer mild and placid Superior— who, with the countenance of a demon, and the eye oi an infuriated tit>re8s, that had just had snatched from her jaws the prey which she was about to share with the whelps, advanced as though she would tear Julia from the grasp of her natural pro- tector;— and, pushing her outstretched arm aside, hastened with the almost fainting child to her mo- ther ; who, meanwhile, too remote to see or to hear what had passed, waited in great anxiety the return of her husband to the carriage. The reader can imagine how pleasant was the sur- prise to Mrs. Moreton, and what must have been the revulsion of her feelings, when Julia, throwing Herself upon her bosom, and putting her arm* around her neck, cried, in a Toice almost ohoked with emotion-" Forgive me, my dearest mother: A will never leave you again." 78 lilBTJBUXBS OV ▲ 00inrBNT« ' Driyin(( rapidly awaj, Mr. Moreton went to th« neighbouring village, where he handed to a friend 8 Bum of money necessary to pay his daughter's bill at the oonyent, together with an order for the delivery of her clothing ; and then turned his horses' heads towards home. CHAPTER XV. Julia's narrative— Specious and artful conduct of the Slo- wer Superior— How the letter was wrote. Bttbino the journey homeward, and after they had reached that dear spot, — over which had so recently gathered thick gloom and deep sorrow, but where sunshine and gladness now reigned,— Julia related to her parents what had transpired during the time that she had spent at the convent school, the most prominent of which is here summarily laid before the reader. It seems that, on her arrival at the convent, when first brought there by her father, Julia became a great favourite, both with the nuns and with the boarders. Her vivacity, her talent at repartee, her general amiability, and her studiousness, gained the respect, and won the affection, of all, from the Mother Superior down to the lowest menial. The former soon fixed upon her as a suitable subject of which to make a useful and valuable acquisition to the order; and, with the quick perception of a strong mind trained under Jesuit influence, readily discovered the prominent traits in her disposition, and devised the plan by means of which she mi^ht best accomplish her design ; yet, with all the ounuing and wariness of her class, she so completely dis« gttised her real purpose, that JuUa only became aware of it at the very last moment, as it were, and then only through the instromentality of one who XTSTBBISS OF ▲ CQN7BNT. 77 had preTioady f alien a yiotim to the same artifioei and who perished in the same coiU. During the first session of the school, the Mother Superior did nothing more than gain the a£Fection8 of the young girl ; well knowing that this must be a first step, and that with these her confidence would be acquired as a necessary consequence. In order to do this, she treated her with distinguished kind- ness; allowing her mauy privileges which were not granted to others ; and encouraging her frequent visits, in the eveuines, to her private parlour — save when the Father General came to see her— where she was sure to find something nice to eat, and some« thing that would interest her mind ; her taste in both respects being carefully consulted. She placed in the hands of Julia, rare and beautiful pictures, representing the miracles and prominent incidents in the lives of the Saints of the Church and would have her to read aloud interesting passages from their history. She would also speak to Julia of these ; while the silvery notes of her Toioe would fall like sweet music upon the ear, and the ^rl's en- thusiastic soul would be enrapt by the ma^o of her discriptive and narrative powers. All day longi Julia's studies were enlivened, and her tasks made lighter, by the anticipation of spending an evening in the Superior's private apartment, where every thing was so snug and so comfortable. But all this time not a word was said about the peculiar dogmas of the Bomish religion, save in the most careless, and, as it were, accidental manner; not a disrespectful allusion to the Protestant faith was pronounced at all, it was with the utmost appa* rent kindness of feeling, and with the greatest ibow of consideration for those who bore it. Neither was Julia required to comply, at any time, with Bomish forms and usages, further than was generally ex- pected from all Protestant pupils ; but, U a peouliav- ly interesting or imponng service was to be perform- h v 78 inBTBBIES 07 A. OOHVENT. ed, her enriotity io witness it was aroused, before* hand, by slow and gradual approaches which whollj concealed from view the real object; and, after it was over, it would be introduced in the most natural manner imaginable, as a toi)io of conyersatiou, and so as to lead an ardent and imaginative mind to iu« quire into its purport. Thus, without appearing to seek it, frequent op. portunity was afforded for the explanation of Catho. uo dogmas, and their implantation in Julia's teudei mind, before she was aware of it. No wonder, then, if with such a nature as hers, impulsive, coiifi(hn^, and enthusiastic ; fond of novelty, and delighting in excitement ; with so much around her to furnish ali- ment for her mental appetite ; and, added to all this, the presence of a master spirit— wise, strong- willed, unscrupulous— which knew well how to con- trol and adjust this complicated machinery for the production of the largest results in the accomplish- ment of its own occult purposes ; Julia should have been so fully, yet unconsciously, trained by the Mo- ther Superior, in the short space of five months, as to be made to think and feel lust as the latter mi;'ht will that she should ; and to be ripe for the develop- ment of her plans, on Julia's return from homej at the close of the summer vacation. No wonder, too, that, under the circumstances of false colouring which had been thrown around her, she should re- gard the life of a nun as being the fullest embodi- ment of human felicity ; as all sunshine, without an obscuring cloud, or fitting rack, to dim for an in* stance its brightness. On her return from home, however, after the va- cation, the rich politician, into whose hands the on- wary girl had so unfortunately fallen, began to nar- row the circle of her coils, ana to bring them to bear more directl v upon the focal point of her schemings. The first object to be accomplished was to destroy her confidence in her own religious faith; andal* XTSTSBXBB OF ▲ OOITTSNT. 79 though this had, to a certain extent, been ooTertly but successfully, done, yet the completion of the work was to be cautiously effected, or great mischief to the plans of the Superior might be the result. The social eyenings spent in her room afforded 8uit« ableopportuuities for this ; and, as it was more than likely that Julia would not return home before the expiration of ten months, time was not wanting. Besides, bow really easy the task with a young girl who had been so imperfectly instructed, as she ne« cessarily was, in the principles of her faith. Before the third month had elapsed, the end was gained : — Protestantism was rejected, and it became a light af- fair to substitute Romanism in its stead. On the day before the session closed, Julia was baptized in the chapel, and became a member of the Boman Catho- lic church. All this time, there had been no compulsion. Led in silken fetters, Jilia never for a moment supposed that she was captive to the iron will of another, but seemed to herself t> have taken step by step, wholly of her own accord ; mtil not only was effected what we have seen, but she had been made to beliove that it was right and proper to conceal from her parents what had occurred. Nay, more, that it was right and proper to deceive them as to the true state of her feelings, and make them conclude, from the ten- or of her letters, that she was still a firm adherent to the faith of her ancestors ; " the end — your devotioa to the service of God and the Virgin," said the Mo- ther Superior— ** will sanctify the means ;" — the de- ception of her best friends, her parents. Now that she was a member of the Catholic church, she was more than ever in the power of the Superior, and subject to her control ; while the lat« ter, in her turn, found increased means of ezeroisiiig that power, in the imposing ceremonies, themystio symbols, the thrilling music, the demoralising eon* fessional, and the constant appeals made to the in* 80 KTSTBBZB8 OF A OOVTSMT* nata lapertHtion of poor fallen human nature; in* deed, in all that pertains to the ritual of that church, in these, Julia found excitement ; in these, there* fore, she took an enthusiastic delif^ht ; and when- ever, on the reception of a letter from home, or from any other cause, old associations and old attach- ments would linsrer about the hearthstone of me- mory, and rekindle its embers, the Mother Superior, from whom she concealed nothinsr, would promptly but adroitly smother them, until she became com* Eletely weaned from all that were once most dear to er ; and her ^reat anxiety now was not to be re« called home, from the scenes and pursuits in which her happiness seemed to be so completely involved. She was now in a fit state of mind to be influenc- ed to take the remaining steps, and to be made a permanent member of the family in which she re- tided ; in other words, to become a nun. As this was a step, howeyer, in which she could be forcibly oontrolled by her parents, at least until she was of age ; and as the Mother Superior had now gained all that was immediately necessary to the ultimate ao- oomplishment of her ^eat design ; she determined to await the close of the ensuing session, which was to be her last, before anything further should he done ; and, meanwhile, to do all in her power to con- firm and establish Julia in her new faith. Thus things progressed until within a few weeks of the termination of the third session, when the Mother Superior, having prepared a letter which she ihought would answer the purpose, placed it in Ju- lia's hands to be copied. After numerous alterations and corrections, which suggested themselves from time to time, had been made, this letter was finally cent to Mr. Moreton, but, by some unaccountable de- tention in the post office, did not reach him as soon as it should have done, bj at least ten days. This delar was the salTation of Juliai as will be shown in the following chapter. SETSTBBXB0 OV ▲ CX)infBNTe 81 CHAPTER XVI. Sister Theresa, her Buflferingf and death— Her dying warn- ing to Julia— Its (ffect upon Julia— The Mother Supe- rior's rage in the chamber of death -The Father Oene« ral'M base r( heme to enrich the order— The Mother Su- perior in a dilemma. It appears, from Julia's recital to her parents, that, while rambling over the convent building, one day, she found, lying upon a pallet of straw, with ragged and insufficient bed-clothing spread over ber, in a small room, in a remote and rather unoccupied por- tion of the vast pile, a poor nun, whose countenance bore the traces of great beauty, but who was fear- fully wasted by disease and suffering. Discovering, on conversing with her, that she was greatly neg- lected by the members of the housebold, Julia re- quested, and obtained, permission, from the Mother Superior, to visit this nun, which was the more readily granted because the latter really knew no- thing about the true condition of one who had lonff been lost sight of by her as an helpless and ruined victim, save as her name was from time to time re- ported upon the sick list. From that day on until the poor nun died, Julia spent an hour or more by her bed-side, every day, and occasionally sat up with her, a portion of the night. Her kindness to Sister Theresa— for that was the name of this poor nun, whom the reader will recollect as having had an in- terview with the Father General, in the convent garden at midnight— soon won her grateful affec- tion ; and, as her light footsteps would be heard daily ascending the stairs on her errand of mercy, Theresa's countenance would beam with gladness. Sometimes, when Julia would be seated by her bed- Bide, she would look up in her face, with a smile of heartfelt gratitude, and would press her hand ear* Ml 1 *i« 82 2CT8TBBXIi OF ▲ 00 WSRT* nettlr, while the big: team would itart to her eye, and triokle down her cheek, as she whispered a prayer to the Virgin, for blessings on her benefactress. On the morning of the Tery day npon which Mr. Horeton reached the convent, as related in the chap« ter preceding the last, Julia paid her usual yisit to her patient, as she called her, and was alarmed to find her a great deal worse than she had beeu previ- ously. Taking her by the hand. Sister Theresa said to her, in tones of deep emotion,—'* Dear Julia, I am dying: I feel that I cannot live much louder; and because I love you for your love to me, and for your charity to a poor deserted nun, I wish to give you a solemn charge, as from the lips of a dying woman; which it would embitter my last moments to with- hold from you, while it is the best returu I can make for your exceeding kindness to me. Never cousent to become a nun." Julia started back, as though she had been stanfi; by an adder, and seemed to doubt if she had heard aright, or as if she thought that the poor nun might be out of her head. Sister Theresa read her thoughts ; and, ajvain tak« ing her hand, and pressing it earnestly in her own, repeated the charge in a ntill more solemn and im- pressive manner than before. Julia would have spoken, but the nun said to her — *' Listen to me. I had thought that my melancholy story would have died with me ; and, indeed, I know not that I shall have strength to relate it to you ; yet, deeply indebt- ed to you as I am, I cannot better employ my re- maining strength than in communicating that which may save you from a fate like miue. In the narra- tive which I am about to give you, you will find abundant cause for the charge which has filled your mind with astonishment." ** I am/' continued Theresa, ** the only child of wealthy parents in the south, who placed me here, ■ome years iinoe, as a pupil in the oonvent school ICTVrBBXBfl OV ▲ OOMYJUIT* For two yean after my arrival. th« Mother Snperiof lavished upon me acts of kinaiiese simiiar to those which Bhe, I know, hae exhibited towards yourself aud others, and with the same motives. By degrees ^for I have not the strength to relate to you all of the partioulars—she led me to abandon my own Pro* tescaut faith, and to embrace Bomanism-^uutil, at the end of the second year, I fouud myself a novice, fully committed to take the vows of poverty, chas- tity, and obedience— aud eventually I became a nun ; my parents, however, beiug kept in profound ignor* auce of the whole matter, until the final step had beeu irretrievably takeu. My mother, as I have siuce learued accidentally, when informed of it, took to her bed, aud never left it until carried to hat grave. My father has more than once applied at thy the Father Bean- pres, resident at B^ton Bouge, Louisiana, that the lather of Emilie de Yere, now the Sister Theresa, a member of the convent under your spiritual govern- ment, has recently died, leavincr an immense estate, and makin? provision, by his last will and testa- ment, that his only daughter, this same Emilie, shall inherit * the whole property, if she will renounce the Boman Catholic faith, and leave the convent in which she is;' and that, in the event of her refusing to do 80, the said property shall go to distant relations, in France, the daughter having nothing. **I wish you to converse with the Sister Theresa, and devise some plan by means of which this in- heritance can be secured to the order. I shall re- pair to the convent on the fifth day from the date of this letter* ** 1 remain as ever, yours, ** Fbanoois Jvbbrt. ^ Father Qeneral, fto.** 88 ICTSTBBXBS OV A, OOWEXTS. :l The Mother Superior felt gredtly agitated, as she S erased this document, and scarcely knew what to o. Here was an immeuse fortune within the ^^rasp of the order ; hut she upon whose life it depetided was dead. True, no one knew it as yet, hesides herself and Julia ; hut she had reason to believe that Julia had heard enough, from the lips of the dying nun, to have influenced her mind unfavourubly to- wards the order, and, perhaps, to haye undoue the entire work of the last fifteen months. 0, how deeply she regretted her want of consideration, ia permitting Julia to attend upon the sick nun ; but BO fully had she succeeded, as she thought, in the work that she had planned and executed as re- garded the former, and such was the tyrannical dread 1 which she held every member of the household, that she could not suppose it possible that the latter would have dared to say one word to Julia about the past; until her apprehension hpriug been excited by her pupil's long absence, — for she had not come down to the dinner- table, as usual,— she had ascend- ed to the sick chaixiber, and there overheard a por- tion of what passed, as has already been seen. Should Julia, when she went out among the boar- ders, make known the fact of the nun's death, it would for ever destroy all hope of securing the in- heritance; and even if she could prevent this, which Would he a very difficult affair, because of the im- pression that it might make upon her own mind, still the dead body was in the house, and must be disposed of in some way, without the knowledge of any member of the household. She bit her lips in ▼ery intensity of thought ; and her feelings were wrought up to a high pitch of excitement, by her malignity to the dead nun, who, she feared, had achieved, although unconsciously, a wonderful re- tribution upon herself and upon the order, for the wrouffs which she had endured at their hands; bv apprehentioii that Julia was lost to the conyen^ ^itated, as she knew what to thin the ^rasp fe it dejiended, L8 yet, hesides to believe that 8 of the dying favourably to- ve undouethe iths. 0, how )usideratioD, in I Bick nun ; but thought, in the zecuted as re- y r an nical dread the household, ) that the latter Julia about the g been excited ) had not come she had ascend- verheard a per- idy been seen. mongj the boar- nun's death, it securinj? the in- vent this, which auae of the im- ler owu mind, ae, and must he )e knowledsieol e bit her lips itt r feelings were .temeiit, by her she feared, had _. wonderful re- le order, for the heir hands; dt 10 the convent, mrSTEBIES OV ▲ CONVENT. 89 tinleBS somethiug oould be done to prevent it ; and bv anxiety to bnng order out of this chaos, and vic- tory out of this apparent defeat ; when she heard a ffentle rap at her chamber door. Instantly passing ^mthe oratory into her bed-room, where Julia still lay upon her couch, she opened the door, where stood a servant to inform her that a gentleman wished to see her in the parlour. Not supposing, for a moment, that it might be Mr. Moreton— whom of all other persons she least wished to see at that time,— she hastened to the room where he awaited her ; neglecting, as she left her cb amber, to close the door behind her. Presently, Julia, overhearing the altercation between her father and the Superior, and recognising the voice of the former, flew down the stairway, and rushed into her father's arms, as has before been related, and thus escaped from the dangers which were becoming so imminent around her. CHAPTER XVn. The Mother Superior outwitted— Cursing and prayiDg* Hasty summons to the Father General— Insulting the dead— Jesuitical conduct. When Mr. Moreton bore Julia away from the par- lour of the convent, the Mother Superior stood in speechless amazement, for an instant, and then, has- tening to the front door, watched his rapid progress along the avenue, un\';il he was lost to her sight, when, like ore who had been spell-bound under the influence of the night-mare, she seemed to become suddenly aware that something must be done, or Jnlia, her victim, would be lost to her for ever, and the harvest of all her schemings be destroyed. Just at the moment when it was ripe for the sickle of the reaper. Fulling violently the hall-bell, she ordered the A 224 B M MtSTSBtEd Olf A CO^lVWiti. servant who answered the summons, to call i^o male servants that belonged to the establisbmeDt, and were at work in the garden ; but whether, dur- ing the interval that elapsed before they made their appearance, she had concluded that any further steps woula be imprudent, on her part, at that time, or because she thought it too late to attempt to bring back the fugitives, her purposes were changed ; for, when the servants came, she dismissed them, aud, with a di<*uified, though somewhat quickened step,, ascended the great hall stairs to her private room. Here, carefully fastening the door, she threw her- self at full length upou a lounge, at one side of the room ; and, placing her hand upon her forehead, as though she were in pain, while her eyes were almost ready to start from their sockets, she gave vent to the most violent outbursts of passion ; bitterly curs- ing all heretics, and calling down the direst male- dictions upon Mr. Moretou and his rescued daugh- ter. And then, her thoughts recurring to the scene which had taken place in the room of the d jin^ nun, she arose hastily from her recumbent position, aud strode towards the door, as if she were about to exe- cute some hurriedly-formed purpose ; but, ere she had placed her hand upon the fastening, she paused, for a moment, and, retracing her steps, continued to walk from one end of the large apartment to the other, for some length of time ; her steps at first ra- pid and excited, but gradually becoming more mea- sured ; until, at length, entering through the secret pannel into her bed-chamber, and thence into the oratory, and kneeling down before the crucifix, she remained for some time with her head bowed in prayer, occasionally heaving a convulsive sob, indi- cative of the extent to which her feelings had been excited. Arising presently from her kneeling position, with the traces of tears upon her cheeks, she approached the escritoire, ood, drawing forth the necessary oste* liiili| wrote e notCi of which the foUowiog iiepopys I, to call two eatablishment, whether, dur- ley made their t any further 't, at that time, ttempttohring ) changed ; for, led them, and, quickened atep^ private room, she threw her- , one side of the tier forehead, as lyes were almost tie gave vent to 1 ; bitterly curs- he direst male- rescued daugh- iog to the scene ,1 the dying nun, nt position, and ire about to exe- ,e; but, ere she ling, she paused, >p8, contiiiuedto apartment to the steps at first ra- ming more mea- irough the 8ecwt thence lutotne the crucifix, ihe head bowed in /ul8iveBob,indi- leelings had been Lff position, with L^Vapproached Boecessarymsw; nowlBgiiieopjJ attrsTBTiiBS Of ▲ ooTsmsM. 91 <* Cawoenl of Annunciation^ JvXy 12, 1812. ** To the Beverend Father General. «« Most Bevbbend and Deab Sib, *< Your favour of the 10th instant was received by me this morning. Business of the utmost import- ance connected with its contents, requires your pre- sence here without delay. Please lose no time in coming. '^ Yours, most respectfully and truly, " Feanobs. " Mother Superior, &c." Having folded and sealed this note, she returned to her chamber, and pulled hastily the bell^oord which hung near her bed. On a nun appearing, in answer to the summons, she placed the notein ner hands, and bade her give it to the Porter, with or- ders to take it instantly to New York, and, riding day and night, deliver it to the Father General. Then, re-entering the oratory, to see if all were there in a position to be left, she fastened her escritoire, and went up stairs to the death room. How silent was all ther^l The cold and pallid remains of the Sister Theresa lay upon the pallet, just as when the Mother Superior had left the room with Julia, after having precipitated the death of the poor nun, by her sudden appearance and harsh exclamation, but a short while before. Although fearfully emaciated and wasted with disease, the death-like features still showed traces of former loveliness; and there sat upon the marble counten- ance a smile, as though, just at the moment of de- parture, the penitent had caught a bright vision of Mercy stooping from Heaven to pity and to save. The Mother Superior stood for a few moments, looking upon the face of the dead, and, catching at length the expression of that smile, ground her teeth with very rage. , " What,'' said the, at though speaking to the life- loM body-.«8mmng artthoaP SmUingat me, at M SmrsTBBIBS OV ▲ OOnVBMV. * though thou hadst gained a victory over me P Dost thou mook me, now thou art dead, as thou didst thwart me while living P Would thou were capable of feeling, that I might pnnish thee, vile remains of a most worthless being. But know, Emilie de Yere, whether thy polluted spirit hovers still in this room, or !■ suffering purgatorial pain in the regions of woe ; know that Louise St. Aubyn has never been defeated yet. She has been cruellv deceived ; but she has had her revenge. Aye, and she will yet be still more fullv avenged upon the vile paramour that wrought thy fall :->the only virtuous act of all his life. Know, too, that, though thou didst turn trai- tor, and reveal to Julia that which has poisoned her mind against my order, I will be revenged there. Poor fool ! she thinks that, because she is iu her fa- ther's house, she is beyoud my power. But, by the Holy Virgin, and by all the Saints iu Hoaven, I swear to move the skies above, and earth and hell beneath, to work her ruin. She shall not escape me. Jalia shall yet be the vile, polluted, worthless thing thou art and has been." Thus iu suiting the lifeless clay, and venting her ra^e upon its unheeding ears, the Mother Superior stood for some minutes, until the approaching shades of evening reminded her that she had but little time left for the accomplishment of the purpose which had brought her to that death chamber ; which was, to gather together whatever papers she might per- ohanoe find in the trunk of the deceased, that could possibly be made to subserve the interests of the or- der, in procuring possession of the coveted inheri- tance. Finding nothing, however, she closed the door, carefully locking it, and, leaving the dead neg- lected as the living had been, descended to her room. Let not the reader imagine, for a moment, that the character of the Mother Superior has been toodaik* I7 drawn. It is the character of one who, under the inAiieDce of a dark and gloomy form of snperstitioiii inrSTZBXBS ov ▲ cozitzkt. M •ad under the training of a master mind, waa fnllj prepared for the indolgenoe of every evil motioni the perpetration of everv crime ; while the blaok heart witnin was covered over with a self-control which was imperturbable, when circumstances required its exercise ; and an hypocrisy, refined, elegant, and ex- quisite. In short, the Mother Superior was a Je- suit, and a fair type of her order. None but a Je- suit could have gone from that death scene, and from the agitating deliberations of the oratory, into the presence of a man whose anger she had just reasons to dread, and yet preserve a cool self-possession, and a control over her temper, which would indicate a life free from all disquiet and given up to re- ligious devotion, but most strikingly in contrast with the emotions which were at that moment agitating her bosom. None but a Jesuit could have risen from prayer, and, in a few minutes after, stand by the dead body of one who had fallen a victim to her jea- lousy and wrath, and deliberately mock and curse that helpless mass of inanimate day. 8he was a Je- suit ; and, when this is said, we cease to wonder at what would otherwise be inexplicable. CHAPTER XVm. The Father General obeys the summons In haste— Meeting between him and the Mother Superior— A vile plot con- ducted between them—The Mother Superior m a new character— The Father General turned grave-digger^ ReToIting manner of burying the dead. Thb messenger who had been despatched with the note to the city, with orders to ride day and night, had complied strictly with his iTistructions, and ar- med at the residence of the Father General, by dav- Hght the next morning ; and the missive which he bore was handed to the latter, before he had yet risen from his bed. Having read its undent contents, be nnmediately ordered a horse for £imself|auda W M XTffTBBZBS OV ▲ OOTXYBM* rn m fmh one for the meuenger, and, as loon at he had eaten an early breakfast, started for theoonvent; where hj diot of riding very ooustantlj, and as fast as his animal, which was a very fleet one, could safe- ly be pushed, he arriyed at five o'clock on the af tcN noon of the day after the nun's death. The mother Superior met him at the front door, as he dismounted from Lis jaded horse, and conducted him at once into the oratory, where, with as little delay as possible, she made him acquainted with the present positiou of things, both as regarded the de- cease of the Sister Theresa, and the escape of Julia, and asked his advice. The Father General saw, at once, the difficulties which were involved in the affair ; but, with the readiness of invention for which the Jesuit is so re- markable, and for which he in particular was so dis- tinguished, proposed that the dead body should be buried, that night, quietly^ without the knowled;^e of any member of the family ; and, in order to this, the Mother Superior and himself must perform the duty. This being accomplished, it would be their next busiiiess to substitute some one for the deceas- ed, who might bear some resemblance to her ; to pro- cure witnesses from without the establishment, to swear that she was the true Emilie de Vere. This could be more easily done, as the proof would have to be made in Louisiana, and not in New York. The members of the convent knew nothing of the death of Sister Theresa, and could be kept in entire ignor- ance of it, by raising a report, in the establishmeDt, that she had fled, which would account for her ab- sence ; though, indeed, such was the ne^^lect with which the poor nun had been treated in the last few weeks of her illness, especially as it was generally known by those who had previously attended to her at all, that Julia had undertaken to be her nurse, that not a single member of the household knew any thing i^bout her real conditioni during that time. As ICVITSBXI8 Of ▲ oonmatf. Of for Julia, the would in all probability neTer baar of the matter of the inheritance ; and, uneoesiary, she ooold be watched. Should she or any of her fifiends make any attempt to interfere in the affair, she must be kept out of the way, and silenced, at all haiards, and by whatever means. This outline of a plan of operations was freely dis« cussed by the two counsellors, and at length adopt- edt as the ver^ best under the circumstances. The Mother Superior then ordered some supper for the Father General to be {placed in the private parlour ; and, leaving him to finish this, she went up alone to the death chamber, to prepare the body for burial ; while he would repair to the garden, to see what could be done there towards prepariug a grave. Taking with her a needle and some thread, she en- tered the room where the body lay, and was surpris- ed to find it much iu the same state in which she had left it on the previous afternoon, and that there was a very slight indication of decay perceptible. The same smile sat upon the countenance, and produced the same state of angry feeling iu her mind, but she was iu no mood to tarry in that remote and lonely part of the convent, without any other company than that of the deceased nun, she hurriedly and rudely sewed up the body in the sheet upon which it was; and, leaving it thus without any other preparation, returned to the room iu which mo had left the Fa- ther General. The latter had in the meanwhile, selected for the Rrave a sunken spot in the extreme distant corner of the garden, which was depressed some two feet in the earth, and which, indeed, had much the appear- auce of an old grave. This spot he had noticed be- fore, in walking through the garden ; and it had in- stantly occurred to him that it would serve the pur« pose, with very little preparation. There was an f 1 r t^"®® of quick lime always kept about the es* tabhbhment ; and, by digging the grave ^ foot deep. ^i-m V 06 mrsTESiBS ov ▲ ooktbkt. ! Mp*Ti er, puttini^ on th« body plenty of tbis lima, and fill- ing op the opening to within a few inches of the sur- faoe, ooyering the whole with rubbish, it would never be discoTered; espeoiallv as it was situated where nothing; was cultivated, that season. Had there not been sufficient reasons why no member of the family should have any knowledge of what was transpir- ing, lest it should come to the ears of some of the mapy boarding pupils then in the establishment, the body might have been disposed of in a deep vault nnder a wing of the building, which was constructed there for the purpose of receiving such remains as they did not wish to bury, or to attach much notice to ; where these were speedily destroyed by means of quick lime. But, as this was only accessible by going through a portion of the establishment where they could hardly hope to avoid notice, the spot in the garden was preferred. Sometime after the convent clock told the hour of ten, an hour at which, by the rules of the house, every inmate of the family must be in bed, the Fa- ther General proceeded to the garden, and, furnish- ing himself with the necessary tools, from a small building in which they were kept, had succeeded, in the course of a couple of hours, in making ready the receptacle for the last repose of the very nun, who, three years before, had met him in that same ;iarden, at the dead hour of midnight, and whom ho bad so basely ruined afterwards. One might snppose that the whole scene would have come up in his mind, and that the image of that then lovely beiu^ would bave haunted his memory and harrowed his soul, while he was thus engaged in preparing; a spot to hide her body ; and so it did, but the Jesuit shook off all sense of uneasiness, and set about the work with all his physical strength, while he kept his thoughts bnsied with planning for the future. In spite of himself, however, when, as the clock sounded inidnighti andi returning to the honaelor the coi^se^ ICT8TSBZ18 OV ▲ OOVYBIIT* •7 he pa8Md the plum tree beneath whioh he had itood, three yean before, with hie arm around the nofor- tanate Sister Theresa, he started involaDtarily, and with a sbi'dder, as, by the light of the moon, he thought he saw hor advancing to meet him ; and it was no small relief to his feeliugs, when he discover- ed that it was the Mother Superior, who was com- ing to see what progress he had made. Fully realizing the extreme delicacy of his posi- tion, under the peculiar circumstances which sur- rounded both of them on this occasion, and in the existence of recollections which came up fresh to the memories of both, while neither dared to make auv allusion to them, the Father General gracefully oU fered his arm to the Mother Superior, and, playfully complimeutiug her upon her good looks, led nor to the house. 'Here, quietly ascending to the room iu which the dead nun lay, the Superior locked the door, and bode the General enter ; narrowly observing his counten- ance as he approached the bed-side, while she held a candle in her hand, and, as she perceived a slight slmdder fo pass through his frame as he took the body in his arms, and threw it upon his shoulder, a scornful smile might have been seen upon her proud features ; but which she took good care should not be witnessed by him. They tlius passed down again to the garden ; the Motlier superior bearing iu her hand a bucket of lime, which she had previously placed near the door steps ; and, in the course of half an hour, the remaius of Sister Theresa, unshrouded and uncofRned, were resting in the narrow bed prepared for her, and the spot marked only by the up-piled briars and rub- bish ; while the Father General and the Mother Su- perior were seated in the oratory of the latter, plot- ting how they might secure to the order the forge estate of her father, left to her on the condition of renouncing the Oatholio faith, and throwing asido • mm ..m »8 UTSTESIilS OV ▲ COM \ EXT* her nuii'i dress; a oondition with whioh ihe would most gladly have oomplied, had she heen alive, and had it been in her power ; though poverty for her life long, and not unbounded wealth, had been the result. She had, however^ exchanged her religioQ^ habit, it is to be hoped, for one of glorious sheen, and her prison*house on earth for a noble mansion in the skies. The quiet smile of hope which played n;K>n the cold features of the day which her freed spirit had left behind, gave token that, though un- friended here, she had found friends there, ** where the wicked cease from troubling, aud the weury are for ever at rest." An Omniscient eye, however, had beheld this deed of darkness; and, though the perpetrators mi^'ht baffle and deceive their short-sighted fellow-crea- tures, yet they could not escape the detection of Hiin who seeth all things. The next morning, just at daybreak, the Father General was seen to enter his own room on the first floor, by the Sister Porter, as she descended to rincr the bell for matins. She know not where he liud spent the night, but had her own surmises, whiuh, however, prudent woman that she was, she ke^^t to herself. CHAPTER XIX. Duplicity— The plot thickens— Hewnrd offered for the mis- sing nun— A sub»ititiue found— A thiid party in the plot —Threatened tumult. Whkn about to sit down to the breakfast- table, the next morning, the Mother Superior, turning to Sis- ter Martina, in the most natural manner ima«{iuable, as if it were an every day occurrence, told her to go to Sister Theresa's room, and see if she wanted any- thing ; remarking, as she did so, to the Father Gen« eral^ that this Sister had been sick, for some length of time, and that she was afraid she would continue to bo so, for some weeks longer, though she did not apprehend a serious result io tbo cas^t anrsTEBXss or ▲ oomrsiiT* 99 The mornioff meal was nearly finithed, when Sie* tor Martina glided into the room, and, in what was dengned to appear as a whisper, but at tiie same time to be overheard by the Father General, she told the Motiier Superior that Sister Theresa was not in her room, and that it seemed to be in oonf u- sion, as if she had left it hastily. " Not iu her room P' repeated the Superior, with well-affected surprise. "No, niadam/ answered the nnn. ** She must be in some of the other rooms, in the same part of the house, then," returned the Supe- rior ; ** go, my good Martina, and see if she is not." **I have looked into them all," was the response ; ** but I cannot find her anywhere." " *Ti8 very strange," remarked the Superior—" I do not know what to make of it. Go, Sister Mar* tina, into every room in the house, and see if you can find her, and let me know immediately, for I feel uneasy about her." Then, turning to the nuns and boarders, as they sat in long lines at the two tables, she asked if any of them had seen Sister The* resa that morning ; and, as might be expected, was answered in the negative. On report being made to the Mother Superior that the missing nun could not be found anywhere about the house, orders were given that the well, the ds^, tern, aud all of the places into which it was possible that she might have fallen, if iu her weakness of body she had attempted to pass about the yard, should be strictly searched ; but lu vain, she was still unfound. The Superior's countenance betrayed a great deal of wollfeigned anxiety ; the Father Gineral seemed to be greatly disturbed ; the whole house was in an uproar— nuns running here and running there —others standing about iu jjroups, in earnest con- versation—all completely mystified, and lost iu won- der at 80 strange an occurrence, while none seemed to be more so than the two individuals present, who knew aU about th^ affair, t ^ % .:■.. ! '4 '-'^ ir'i 1 :ii 100 IR8TEBXS8 OF A OONVEHT. At tonfftb, when all further search appeared to be useless, Uie Mother Superior, speakings so as to be heard bv most of those present, requested the Father General to acoompany her to her private parlour, in order, as she eaid, that she might consult him fur* ther in reference to this truly mysterious disappear- ance of one of their number, and as to the steps which it might be necessary to take in the premises. Having spent a half hour thus, as thefamily sup- posed, tbey again apiieared in the parlour, in the midst of the assembled nuns and boarders ; uud the Father General announced tt as his deliberate opi- nion that the missing nun had escaped from the convent, during the previous night, by t])e al] of some person or persons unknown ; and, calling for his horse, intimated his intention of making diligent search for her, that she mi^ht bo apprehended and brought back ; at the same time, requiring the Su« perior to degrade the Sister Porti:r from her office, for vrant of due vigilance in the discharge of her duties, unless it couM be made to appear that she was not to blame. So saying, and giving his bles- sing to all present, the Father General mounted his horse, which had meanwhile been brought to the door, and returned to the city. In the papers of the following day, an advertise- ment a][ipeare(l, couched in such language as tliis: "fifty dollars eeward. "Left the Convent of the Annunciation, on the night uf the 13th instant, in a state of mental de- rangement, produced by fever, a nun, who is doubt- less not far from the establishment, but who has not yet been found, although diligent search has been made for her. The humane will greatly relieve the distresned feelings of her sister nuns, by giving any information that they may liave i.i the i-rcmises, and receive? tho above reward for the restoration to " Francois Juhiut, *' No. 87, Chamber Street, Now Vork.** ^Julj/ M//i, 1812." imrstTBBncs o9 ▲ ooNvnnt. 101 Anxious to give this pretended escape of the sick nun as much publicity as possible, without appear- ing to do so, tne General, auring the day, sent some of his ooufident emissaries into di£Ferent parts of the city, to talk about the aff .lir in yarious crowded re- sorts, as an item of news, until, by noon, it was uoised abroad everywhere, and produced quite an excited state of feeling. Yorious parties of zealous Oatholics visited the convent, and conversed with the Mother Superior, during: the week following ; and others scoured the surrounding country, in search of the fugitive, but without success. The excitement at length died away, and the affair was well nigh forgotten. ^ Meanwhile, the Father General had, by means of his own indefatigable industry, for he dired not en- trust the matter to the agency of any third person, succeeded in finding a nun of about the same age, height, colour of hair, complexion, and general con- tour of person and features, with the deceased nun ; and, in bringing her, unseen and closely veiled, tra- velling in a dose carrriage, and principally by night from the convent in Canada, where ho had discov^ ered her, to the dwelling of Mr. Wilmot. in New York city, where he stealthily left her, about ona month after the pretended disappearance of the mis- sing nun. This Mr. Wilmot Was a member of the Episcopal Church, nominally, but really a lay Jesuit in P'^ po t;o 4 of the crowd, but which was too well tr line t, \. owever to strike without a signal from tbmr kn^ '^rs, who were thickly interspersed among th tn, aiu) 'i'''! them in perfect control, althou^^h there were uot; a few hot-headed Irishmen in the midst. CHAPTER XX. The pretended nun undergoes a judical examination— Je- suitical manoeuvring— An apt pupil— The inquiry ter- minates in favour of the supposed nun. Abbtved at the mayor's office, the nun, who "fave her name as Eniilie de Vere, otherwise called by the appellation, as a religieuse, of Sister Tn^^resa, stated that, in consequence of persecution and iie;zlectin the Convent of Annunciation, she had find from thnt establishment, about a m >ath ago; hod reichedthe city on the last evening, and now claimed the pro- tection of the city authoriliea, until ylie could write to her father, who resided in the south, and from whom she had not heard for many years, to come and take h^^r hoisrie ; declaring, in the most solemn tnauneri with hazids uplifted to heaven, and tears is I. bt I*' cried ont lit.'* i arrived ; and id present her- ►eforethe city don, as hevm^ of any private broQ^bt to the ;etber with Dr. ev. Mr. Scott, a 7, Mr. Fletcher, tted ; while the inded the earn- rom the show of nade by the Ca- ioh was too well t a si{?nalfrom jrspersed amouR pi, altboush there n in the midst. il eicamination-Je- fl— The inquiry ter- nun, who pave ^\9G called by the ^rTK^resa, stated In and ne^ilectin Ud fled from tbnt I hod reached the claimed the pro- HI ybe could write Boutb, and from 3V years, to come , the most solemn laven, and tears m HTSTZBXSS OF ▲ OON VENT. 105 her eyes, wlucb drew teartt iu turu irom alinost every eye in the house, his honour the mayor not excepted —that she then and for ever abjured Roman Catho- licism, and all allegiauce to pope or priest— beseech- ing those before whom she then stood, not to suffer her to fall into the bauds of her euemies a«j^ain, as, in that event, her life would most iuevitably be the forfeit. She acted her part to perfection, and com- pletely imposed upon all present. Francois Jubert, the Father General, then stepped forward, and declared that he had tlie spiritual charge of t)ie nuns belou^ing to the Conveut uf the Auunciation— that tlie nun was correct iu stating that she had fled from the ebtablishmeut, about a mouth since, and that she was the same for whose recovery he had otiered a reward of fifty dollars, on the 14th of July last, but that it was not true that shehadbeei) persecuted or no>^lected— on the con- trary, he affirmed tluit she liad beeu most kindly cared for by the Mother Superior, and by all the members of the family ; addin<^, that the nun had become crazy by means of a severe s-tellof sickness, the traces of which her pale countenance still bore, and that this state of mental aberratlou had led her to take the step which slie had. He concluded by expressiuj^ the hope that hio honour, the mayor, would not sutfer the Catholic CiiurcU to be scanda- lized by the wild raviuf^sof au insane nun ; but that he would order her surrender to hira, that he might take her back to her kind friends, the Mother Supe- rior atid the sisters of charity, whose hearts were now tilled with disquietude at her absence, and with apprehensions for her safety. Wliile thus address- mg himself to the mayor, he cast looks of paternal regard and pity upon the nun, and even shed a tear, *"rru ®?"^">i»eration of her unfortunate condition. The ministers present, however, iu their turn, ex- pressed their confidence in the sanity of the nun, and declared that they could not belioTe, without 224 s Pi 106 ivnrsTcniBtf op a ootsttem. if! f urther evidoooe than they had, that the declaration of inaauity, made bv the priest, waa anything more than a ruse to get the poor girl baok into his posMs- aion. The mayor then sent for two of the ablest phygl. dans in the city, and requested them to exainiue the nun fully, aud to satisfy themselves as to the coudi- Uon of her miud. This request they comphed with ; and, haying conversed with her there in the open court, for more than an hour, assisted at times by questions tiom the clergymen— they declared, upou oath, thut, so far from her beiug crazy, she was in the full possebsion of vigorous tiacultius of miud, of extraordiuory power, and was, upou the whole, cue of the most lutelleotual women they ever couversed with in their liveit. The Father General here interfered, and, 8tate«l that hers was a case monomania, and that, while she could converse intelligently eiiougb upou every other •ubject — if they would introduce a tcpio which he would name to tbem privately, they would tiud that, in a few moments, she would become perfectly wiU upon it. Having whispered this to|iic iu their ears, in re- ference to which ne had declared her to be a mono- maniac, the physicians proceeded to converse with her upon it, for some time ; and, although it was one of her exceeding delicacy, aud she was talking with thc:se who were entire strangers to her, yet such was the modesty of her replies, and so rational were they, that her iuterrugatorti indi|;nantly alUrmed thatit was an outrageous trilling with the time of ttie court, aud more especially, with the feelings of the iute- restinglady ; for she was perfectly free from all traces of insanity as any individual of them all there present. His houour the mayor then asked the uun if she liad any place in the oitv in view, where she wonld wish to stay, antU her father could be written to; a«id receiving, for answer, (hat the would prefw n* Bit. the declaration anything more into his posses- lie alilest phygi« I to examiue the as to the coudi- oom plied with ; are in the open ted at times hy ' deolared, upou iizy, she was in Itios of Diiud, of 1 the whole, one J ever conversed )red, and, stated id that, while she upon every other I a tcpic which ha ' would tiudtbut, ae perfectly wild their ears, in re- ler to be a mono- to conver.se with though it was one was talkiuf? witli her, yet such wa8 itional were they, ly ttlUrmed that it j'time of the court, elinjjs of the iute- "ree from all traces nalltherepresent. ed the nun if wj B. where the wouia lid be written to; would pw<« ^ mrSTKRIRH OF A 0OM7EKT. 107 maininff in the family whoto protection she had first claimedi if it was thought safe for her to be there ; aud Mr. Wilmot stating that he would give bond and security, in any sum recjuired by the mayor, for the safe keeping and rendition of tlie nun wheneTer called upon to do so, it was ordered that she be re* turned to his house, and there suffered to remain un- molested* The Father General bit his lip, as if in angry dis- appointment, and left the room ; while Mr. Wilmot t^)uk charge of the nun, and, under the escort of a police officer, re-entering the carriage whic'i had f'oriie them to the mayor's office, was driven to his residence. Here the nun soon exchanged her religious habit for a secular dress ; and, as she dwelt a quiet inmate in his family, never going out into the street, except at ui|{ht, and to visit the dwelling of the Father General, no further excitement occurred in the pub- lic mind. The Oatholics, who, under other circum« stances, would have raised an ungovernable storm about the poor nun's ears, being controlled aud kept quiet by their superiors. CHAPTER XXI, The Father Oenoral's residence—The library —Splendid fur- niture and fittings of the establishiuent— The Father Geuerai'8 letter to the Mother Superior— Plot upon plot. The residence of the Father General, in New York, was a handsome three-story brick building, of the first class of private houses, having a b:\semeiit with dining room and kitchen attached ; a suite of draw- ing rooms, richlv furnished, on the first floor proi>er ; two large chambers on the second, and as many in the third, with a neat little room, over the hall, on both; and a fine attio, well finished, for the servants of the establishment. In the rear was a small yurd, which his taste had eaoted to be handsomelj tr< . ::ij' 108 MYSTEBtES OF A OONVSin*. u rauged in little flower-beds, in whicli were son)? moit rare and beautiful plants, carefully attondcd to by the gardener from the city oonvent, who oame at regular interyals to spend a day or two in working the beds, and seeing that everything was in nice or- der. Between this residence and the adjoining bouse, was an alley of some three feet and a half in width, with a front gate opening upon the street; the alley running back into the garden. The front chamber of this dwelling, in the second btory, was occupied by the Father General ; the rear one ap- propriated to his guests, and the small room over the door, as a cabinet where he kont his moat valu- able papers in an ron safe, did all of his writing, and transacted his private business. The only open- ing to this room was through his chamber; as he had the door formerly leading from it into the pas- sage^ built up, so as to render himself the more se- cure from eaves-dropping. The front room in the third story was fitted up as a library ; having shelves arranged on all sides, upon which was found a magnificent collection cf books, in all languages, and upon almost all sub- jects ; many of them very rare and of great value. A map-rack stood on one side of the room, provided with maps and atlases, some of which were especi- alljr prepared with a view to exhibit, at a glance, the points on the face of the earth, where the Jesuits Dad established themselves. A very large terres- trial globe, also, stood near these maps. An oval table, covered with green cloth, and of lari^e dimen- nous, occupied th^ centre of this room, upon which were bundles of letters and papers tied up with red tape, and neatly labelled by the secretary of the Fa- ther General, a young Italian by the name of PJetro Lodetti, who spent most of his time in the librarj, daring the day, and occupied the adjoining bed- room, at night. It may be as well to state, here, ttiat this secretary had been sent out from Italyi bjf 2CT8TBBZX8 09 ▲ OOHTBXTt 109 were some f attended to who oame at o in working aB in nice or* he adjoining and a half in iu t) 16 street; 11. The front nd btory, was rear one ap- lU room over his moat valu- f hia writing, ?he only open- amber ; as he ; into the pas- £ the more se- [ was fitted up I on all sides, t collection of Imoat all sub- frreat value. A •oom, providetl }hwere especi- at a glance, the Bre the Jesuits ry large tenes- laps. An oval of lar?e dimen- )m, upon which led up with red stary of the Fa- "^name of Betro in the library, adjoining bed- 1 to Btete, bere, t from Italy, bj the bead of the order there, of hie own accord, to the Father (leneral in the United States, with the real, though not ayowed. intention of aotiDg as a spv upon tl.e actions of the latter; such bciiip^ the suspi- cious jealousy of these Jesuits, in reference to each other. It was altogethf^r a rare establishment iu its en- tire fitting up ; n .( , save that it had throughout that Diasouline tone winch seems to be inseparably^ con* nected with all bachelor residences, from which the mellowing hand of w man and her delicate taste have been excluded, it u L'ht have been a model for the whole city, in point of neatness and elegance. In the drawing rooms were hun^ some of the best 8; c'cimens of the old masters ; in the cham^ rs were f w md all possible luxurious contrivances lor ease and comfort ; in the cuisine, evtry arrangement ne- cessiry for the perfection of good lifiii'S and in the cellar, carefully placed under lock and key, a choice store of the richest old wines, duly l/i belled with the dates of the respective vintages, upoM his profound acquaintance with which, the Father General great- ly prided himself, it is true that all this contrasted strangely enough with the Jesuit's vow of poverty; hut, if you had asked him to explain the glaring iu- consistency, he would, doubtless, have replied to you, with great readiness, that, as the head of the order in the United States, he had dispensation to live thus : the importance and di;;nity of the ofHce which he tiiied, requiring that he should live iu correspond* ing state. On the evening of the day upon which the nun re- presenting Emilie de Vere or the Sister Theresa, had been t ken before the city authorities, the Father General was seated at the round table covered with green cloth, which stood in his cabinet, busily en- gaged in writing a letter, in cypher, to the Mother Superior; a quiet smile, meanwhile, playing upon Disfeatures, .f IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^./ ^ .^. V- 4^ 1.0 1.1 I^IM |25 m ^^ ■■■ ■i' Bi2 12.2 ^ L£ 12.0 6" 4h^ ^ ^ ^ ^ '/ Sciences Carporation ^ L1>^ \ 23 WIST MAIN STMIT WIBSTIR,N.Y. MSM (716)t72-4S03 no msnpszBS ov ▲ ooirTSMVt After giving her a detailed aooount of the eTents of the day, he thne proceeded : ^'Thns. you will perceive, our plot works admir- ably. The Canada nnn, about whom I have already written to you, has nlayed her part to prelection; and I have saoceedea, by her help, and by the man- ner in which I have managed this whole affair, in making the mayor and the good citizens of New York believe the nun to be the veritable one whom I advertised, last July, and that we Catholics are the most barbarous people on the face of the earth. But, while they are under this impression, we are steadily advancing towards the desired object^ and can afford to be covered with the dust which is thrown up by our carriage wheels, whose revolu« tions bear us to the acquisition of a vast inheritance. It is of the utmost importance to us, that every pos- sible suspicion of connivance in this matter should be avoided ; and the worse, therefore, the attitude in which we appear to stand to the ^ pretended Sister Theresa, the more improbable it is that collusion should be suspected or detected. ^ I have written to Father Marin, to make every S«8ible effort to introduce into the family of Mr. oreton, a servant under the control of our order, that we may have a spy upon Julia, and be able to countervail any mischief that she or her friends may 4ittempt to do. ** On to-morrow, the nun will write a letter as from Emilie de Yere to her father, requesting him to come and take her home, which I shall take care to send to the executor of the estate, in such a way as will avoid all suspicion, and put the affair a step further forward in the process of completion. Meanwhile, •he Is safely housed with Mr. Wilmot, whom all the world believes to be a good Episcopalian, while he is one of us, and as true as steeL Ha ! ha! ** I will keep yon advised of further proceeding's. To this letter he added the following postscript, in the same cypher : *j»:^ P. of theeTentfi works admir- I have already bo profection; d by the man- liole affair, in bizens of New ible one whom 3 Catholics are B of the earth, jssion, we are :ed object^ and dust which is whose revolu* ist inheritance, that every pos- I matter should the attitude in retended Sister that collusion to make every family of Mr. I of our order, and be able to er friends may -•letter as from fcg him to come [e care to send a way as will a step further .. Meanwhile, I, whom all the tlian, while he !hal . „ I proceeding, log postscripti WnSSBSMB 09 ▲ 00 tfVXKVt 111 ^ U jonlukTe^any dothing of Emilie de V^ man by her proTious to her asBumiog the religiout habi^ or any articles which her friends, if there be any, would be likely to recognise as hers— box them up carefully, and send them to my address." Despatching this letter to the post office, by a 8er« vant who answered the signal bell wire which com- municated^with the kitchen, the Father General ap- plied himself to the examination of a large mass of documents which he took from the iron safe, and to the perusal and answering of several letters which lay upon the table before him some in cypher, and some in a plain hand ; and, as the great town clock, on the City Hall, told the hour of two in the morn- ing, jaded and worn out with fatigue, he entered his bed -room, and, mumbling a sleepy and hasty prayer, threw himself upon his luxurious couch of down, aha slept soundly until the rap of the servant at the door, which was carefully and doubly locked, aroused him to a late breakfast. CHAPTER XXn. The Father General's anxiety— His interview and transao* tion with the false Emilie de Vere— The fobricated let- ter—The Ttalian secretary — ^Plot and counter-plot— Fietro and Alice— The intimacy commenced. The next evening, about nine o'clock, the Father General might have been seen seated at his cabinet^ at the little green table, on which were i)laced writ- ing materials, anxiously awaiting the arrival of some one ; for he frequently arose, and, going to the win- dow, looked out into the darkness, andas often re- turned to his chair, with an evidently increasing un- easiness of manner. At length, he was about to seize his hat, and leave the room, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps ; ^e gate opening into the alley creaked upon its hinges, and he hastened down stairs to meet the expected visitor, who turned out to be the pre- .V^^^!i| '.U-' 112 ICTSSXBZB8 OV A OOWBIIT. : ^ tended Sister Theresa, dressed not in the (^arb of a reUffieiUBf but that of a woman in the middle walk of kfe, plain bnt neat. She was aocompanied by the secretary, in a secular dress, who, with his quiet, down look, glided silently b^ her side, and, crossing his arms upon his breast, with a low inclination of the head, as he met the Father Jesuit, passed on to bis own apartment ; leaving the nun whom he had been sent for, standing in the hall with the latter. '* I will call for you in two hours," said the Gen- eral to the secretary, as the former turned to ascend the stairway along with the nun. ** Yes, sir," was the repljr of the secretary, again crossing his arms, and bowing his head. When the Qeneral had introduced the nun into his cabinet, carefully locking the door of the bed- room, he looked sternly at her, while he said, in an impressive tone : ^ You are an hour behind your time. Why is this ?* *' My lord," replied the nun, somewhat alarmed by his earnest manner, " I was detained by some company that came to Mr. Wilmot's, after tea, and whom I could not leave without appearing to be ab- rupt, and excite suspicion." ** It is well. You have acted your pari nobly so far ; continue to be true and faithful, and you will deserve well of the order. Betray my trust, and-^ yon know what will be the consequence," said the Father General, while a slight tremor passed over the poor girl's frame. '*Now,*' continued the Jesuit, '* sit down at that table, and write as I shall dictate to you." " New York City, August 18, 1812. <*To Mr. Charles de Yere, B&tonBouge, Louisiana. ** My dear, dear father, can you. will you, forgive me, for the base part I have acted, in bringing so mndi sorrow upon you and upon my dear mother, of whose death, some years ago, I have heard P Oh, p. the garb of a B middle walk ipanied by the iih bis quiet, I, and, croBsinx inclination of t, passed on to I whom he had ;h the latter, said the Gen- med to ascend ecretary, again Old. I the nun into ar of the hed- e he said) in an , Why is this r iwhat alarmed lined by some I, after tea, and laring to be ab- Ir par\# nobly so ], and you will ly trust, and— ice/* said the )r passed over down at that rou." }t 18, 1812. ina. you, forgive . bringing so dear mother, I heard? Oh, aCfSTXBZES OV i. OONYSNT. 118 if she were bat alive, bow would it rejoice my heart to fall upon my knees before her, and implore her forgiyeness, too! but she is gone ; and you are my only remaining parent. Will you forgive me, dear f ai£er, when I tell you that I have repented in dust and ashes— that I have fled from the hated oonvetit, and renounced Boman Catholicism for ever? 0, come to me, beloved father ! and tell me that you do forgive me ; and take me away from this re^on, where I fear, every day, that the dreadful priests will find me out, and use violence to my life. Ton will find me at the house of a Mr. William Wilmot, a grocer, at the corner of Hudson and King-street. Mr. WUmot is a Protestant, who has kindly taken me into his family, and so far protected me against the efforts of the vile Jesuits. But hasten to me, dear father— every day will seem an age until I see you. " Your repentant child, " Emiub db Veeb." « There, that's a good girl," said the General, pat- ting the nun on the head. ''Let me see what you have written.** ** Ah ! that is just right," he added, after having carefully perused the letter—" just what we want. Ma foi, but you write a pretty hand, just like those pretty finsers with which you wrote it," continued he, as he looked archly at the pretty woman, while a blush mantled her cheeks." *' Gome now, my dear, direct this on the back," said the Jesuit, as he handed her the letter, which he had meanwhile folded and enclosed in an enve- lope—'* and write the address in a little larger hand than you have used within, in order that it may be sure not to miscarry. Yes, that wiU do ; thank yon, my pet." Leaving the pretty nun with the Father Jesuit, while he instructs her fully in that part which she is to act in the plot, let us go up stairs, and look tn upon the secretary. See, there he sits, in that room m 114 KnaaoEh ov ▲ oosmun. filM with books, rorrouDded by % pile of papers, which he Beems to haye been engaged in arraugiug and filing. But he no longer has that quiet, down look ; his feet are placed upon the edge of ^e table: as he leans back in his chair, he twirls his pen be- tween his fingers, and his piercing black eye is danc- ing ill its socket, as^ with a look full of intelligeuce, be secDis to be solving some mental questioQ which deeply interests him. Presently, as if unable to ar- rive at any satisfactory conclusion, he threw the pen upon the table, with a gesture of impatience, ex- claiming — '* I will find it out, in spite of him. It is no mere love intrigue, I am sure. If so, why should this nun Lave come all the way from Canada, as she told me, to«night, she had ; and why all this pretence about her escape from the Oouveut of the Annunciation, and about her being a sister somebody instead of herself? why this personation of another nun, and all this uproar at the mayor's office P Why is she staying at Wilmot's P There is some grand plot ou hand ; and I will have a hand in it— I vow to the Holy Virgin, I will." " ** But how shall I go about it ? Ah ! I see. I will make love to this nun— and then, Mr. Father Gen- eral—my Lord, the representative of the Great Head of the Jesuits in these United States — then see if I do not get from her all she knows about this matter : and she must necessarily know a good deal. Aha! Hetro, you have got him now." So saying, the young priest seemed to be greatly dlated; but, just in the height of it, and while be was still planning and plotting, in his own mind, how he should carry out his newly-formed scheme, a signal, which apprised him that the Father Gen- eral required his presence to attend the nun to her home, interrupted nis reverie, and called him down stairs. Here he found tiie latter awaiting him, with avertod ooltntenanoe, outside the chamber door of mVIBBXBS OF ▲ OOVTXaVT* 118 fhe Genend t '^^ the two, detoending to iha yard, loon found their way to the street, and rapidly walked towards the part of the city in which Iflx. Wilmot lived. Daring the fifteen minutes which elapsed before reaching the residence of the nun, the secretary had made such good use of his time, th8^. she had pro« mised to take a walk with him, for the benefit of her health, on the following night ; it being agreed up- on, between them, that, at dark, she should retire to her room, on pretence of a headache, while he would walk slowly before the house, on the opposite side of the way ; and, when she discovered him, she was to steal quietly out into the street, aud join him. The truth is, that the nun found it a very tire-^ some affair to be cooped up in a small house, day after day, with nothing to do ; while the busy scenes in the street upon which she looked, day after day, excited her woman's curiosity to know more of what was going on in the world around her ; and, as she did not dare to go out alone, by day or by night, she looked upon the offer of the handsome young Italian as affording her just what she wanted, an opportuni- ty for rambling about unobserved, and of taking a peep at men and things as they existed outside of the walls of a convent. They did ramble about, for two good hours, that night of their appointment ; and, while the secretary continued to amuse her childish curiosity, by means of many strange sights and sounds which attracted her observation and fell upon her ear, he managed most adroitly, and all unconsciously to her, to draw from her, indirectly, a number of items which gave him, unitedly, some clue to the grand plot who* 3 existence he suspected, and of whose nature he felt anxious to have some knowledge. These nocturnal ramblings were kept up for a considerable length of time ; but, as they did not oc« enr of toner than onoe, or at most, twice a week, and 116 KT8TBBIS8 bV A 00N7JUIT. gnat oare wai taken that they should not he ex- tended to tuoh an hour in the night as would bo likely to plaoe the nun in the i>osition of being lock- ed out after the family had retired to rest, they were not discovered ; while they led to consequenceB which will haye an important bearing upon future eyents in the progress of this story. CHAPTER XXm. Alice's parents— Placed in a convent at an early age— New feelings produced bylnew scenes — Evening rambles •- Mutual attachment— The dawning of light— Its effect up- on Fietro and Alice— Their conversation and resolution • Thb nun, whom the Father General had found in a oonyent in Canada, aud brought to New York, to personate the deoeased Sister Theresa, was the daughter of Ck)lonel Soule, a French officer of dis- tinction, who had been killed in a duel, near Mon- treal ; and whose widow had placed the young Alice, then only five years old, in the care of the Ab- bess, while she returned to France, to see after her husband's property. The French Eeyolution had, in the meantime, broken out^ and Madame Soule died, a prey to anxiety and gnef . The orphaned Alice had| therefore, grown up in the conyent, without hayug ever been outside of its walls from the day upon which she entered them, until that when, in companjr with the Father General, she had started for the city :— she haying preyiously passed her no- yitiate, and been a nun for some two years. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that, when this young creature, inheriting all the yivacity of the French character, and train^ amid the gloooa and monotony of conyeutual scenes, was placed, wholly inezperieuoed, in the midst of a large and crowded dty, like New York, full of noyel sights, which ex- cited her curiosity and called into active exercise her ardent imaginationi with what she saw and heard sctraCBfiiss 09 a oonvekt. 117 around her contrasted so strangely with the austere aspect of things as they existed in the prison-house in which she had been reared, she should be fascinat- ed with the new world into which she had been so suddenly ushered, and should look forward, with dread, to the period of her return to that living tomb. Especially is not this to be wondered at, when it is remembered that her Cicerone was a young and handsome Italian, of noble family ; whose accom- plished manners and whose brilliant talents had, at first, been employed to win from her all she knew in reference to the plot of the General ; but which had accomplished results, to both, but little dreamed of by either; for he had awakened feelings in her mind, to which she had hitherto been a stranger ; while, in his turn, he felt that the flame which he had kindled in her bosom, burned also in his own. Indeed, the circumstances of these two young persons were somewhat similar ; for he had been placed, for family reasons, at a very tender age, in a monaster;^ at Home ; and had been educated wholly within its walls, in all the artifice and trick- ery of the Jesuits, until, discoyering peculiar talent for intrigue, he had, at the age of twenty three years, been selected by the head of the order there, and sent to this country, in company with the Le- gate on his visit of installation, as private secretary to the Father General ; for the double purpose of acting as w. ;\Dy upon the movements of the latter, and of obliging the rich and powerful family of the Lodetti, who had their own reasons for desiring that Pietro should be removed as far from them as pos- sible. Since his arrival in the United States, he bad, as a quick observer and an intelligent reasouer, ac- quired new views of men and things. Life pre- sented itself, to his mind, in an entirely novel as- pect; and he began secretly to form conclusions, even to project plani, which startled himself, accus- tomed at ho had been previously to a blind aubmid* lis inrSTEMKS of k COKVKUT, Bion to the will of his Superiors, and to h'>ve big thoughts take their complexion from the colouring of those who had assumed to think for him. Yet the ▼err novelty and daring of these new conceptions had a peculiar charm for his ezcitahleand naturally enterprising disposition, and were, therefore, readily indulged hy him. If, then, Alice felt like a hird let loose, for the first time ihrom a cage in which it had heen raised, and disjposed to soar aloft into the hlue ether, upoD those pinions which hitherto had heaten in vain against its prison hars ; his feelings resemhled those of one who, shut ap from infancy in the dark cavern, by and hy emerj^es upon green fields, lit up hy the glad- some sunshine ; and, after staudinfit f<^r a time, gaz- ing in mute amazement upon the freshly developed beauties of nature, at length longs to roam over those fields, and become better acquainted with those beauties. Their rambles through the city, by night, had serv- ed to attach these two oeings to each other, in strong and mystic ties :— the stronger because they had be- come mutually acquainted with each other's history; and their souls so mingled in sympathy and affec« tion, that their confidence was perfect — no thought which sprang up in the mind of the one, being held back from the other. During one of these excursions, they happened to pass near a Protestant church, in which the regular ni^ht service was conducted. Prompted by curi- osity, they entered, and took their seats in the first pew they came to. Here, unobserved themselves, Decanse seated in the rear of the entire congrega- ^on, they looked with deep interest, for tlie first time in their lives, upon the simple form of religioas service — so plain, so fervant, so rational ;— and eonld not help eontrasting it with the comnlex and pompous etremonial of their own church; m, wbtD thus mlubter arose, and in earnest tooei gave ttrdrci^lKs o^ a co^iVsnt. 11» out biB text— '* Ye shall know the truth; and the truth shall make you free;"— they listened with rapt ottention to his delineation of true spiritual freedom, the means hy which it is attained, and the result of this freedom, to the indiviclual, the nation, the world at large. As they listened, new ^iews of human rights, of human happiuess^ of divine truth, all con- lonaut as they were with right reason, sprang up in their minds, aiid placed thetnsolves in striking op- position to the dogmas in wliich they ha^^ been in* struoted, and the slavery, mental, moral, and physi- cal, in which they had been hitherto held. They felt as did the monk of Eisloben, when he found the long neglected Latin copy of the Holy Scriptures, iu the library of his convent; and, while reading it, '* his soul kindled with new energy, as he saw how truth had been wronged hy ignorant piety and hypo- critical infidelity." And as contact with the opinions of freemen, who regarded liberty as their birthright, had induced opinions and feelings in ttie minds of those who, under the leadii?g of La Fayette and his gallant associates, had crossed the broad Atlantic to aid the colonies in America in achieving their liber- ties,— which had led to the attempt— unsuccessful though it was—to accomplish the same result in France, on their return home,— so, iu reference to the young secretary and Alice, they felt that their birthright had been withheld from them and, that God and man would Justify the effort to secure its restoration. The service concluded, the secretary and his com- panion left the church, and directed their steps to- wards Mr. Wilmot's ;— walking slowly, for their minds were busy with the solution of problems whieh bad been presented to them, for the first time, that fiigbt. At length, the former said to Alice, in tonee which indicated deep thought, as well as honest oon- vietioQ : ^ Alioe^ we lia?e been asleep, lauauied wiihta (IM ' Wl w •■ J^\ 120 MT0TSBISS 07 A COinTElfT* coiiTentual walli, we had do knowledge of the exis- tence of any other world than that we found around Qi. Instructed in the dogmas of the Catholic Church, we haye been taught to belieye that all besides is heresy,— damnable doctrine, unworthy of our belief, and insulting to Heaven, as well as destructive of the souL But we have awaked to find that tliere is a populous world outside of the microcosm in which we have been reared ;— a nopulous world, whose in- habitants enjoy life, and liberty, under the benign influence Of a religion which is simple iu its forms, but which appears mighty in its effects ; a religion embraced by millions, and which is at once di^^iiifying to man, since it frees him from tyranny ; and hon- ourable to Qod, since it represents him not as en- slaving the mind and heart of man, but as the great deliverer from thraldom. I feel that I have awaked to a new existence ; methiuks I breathe a purer at- mosphere than I did in Home. I am a freeman ! How is it with thee, dearest Alice P" ** Pietro, I feel strange ;"— replied Alice, wliile her voice trembled with emotion. ** I do not know what to think, nor what to say. I am bewildered, * Ye shall know the truth ; and tie truth shall make you free.' Pietro, what is truth ?" '* Truth, in the abstract, Alice, is accordance with fact and reality. Moral truth must be in ccjuformity with the character and will of Him who is the great Moral Governor of the world :— the great moral Srinciples laid down by Him for man's government, nding their developement in the administration of divine grace and providence, ultimatiug in the re- tributions of Eternity, and justified by the results, in the sight of men, of angels, and of devils. Ton and I^ Alice, have been taught to believe that the truth 18 alone to be found within the pale of Holy Mother Church : but, if so, how is this assertion to be fecondled with the corrupt and tyrannical practioei of the ohoioli ; where ii the aooordanoe betweeo the EST* l|{e o| the exis- e found around latholic Church, at all besides is tiy of our beliet 8 destructive of Ind that tliereiB rocoBm in which world, whose in- nder the benign iple in its forms, fecta; a religion itoncedipiiifying ranny ; and hon- ts him not as en- i, but as the great at I have awaked reathe a purer at- I a freeman I How Bd Alice, while hei lo not know WMt bewildered, * Ye th shall make you B accordance with t be in c(mfornnty ■-i who is the great the great moral lan's government, ladmiuistration of mating in the re- led by the results, ■of devils. You p believe that the Kbe pale of Holy SbisasserUontow rrannical practicei -iaac© between the UlSTKUnS OV A OONVBIVT* 121 roTealed oharaoier of Jehoyah, and the grand die- tiiiotlTe features of OatholidBm, and what, I begin to fear, are ita direot and necessary tendencies? Where is the accordant truth — ^this freedom of which we have heard, to-night for the first time in all our lives P We have hitherto seen neither. On the con- trary, we have been taught that the very essence of oar religion consisted in submission to the will of our suporiors, and in our reli^ous tows of poverty, chastity, and obedience ; — which sooth tq say, seem to be solemn mockeries in the estimation of those to whom we made them : if, indeed, we are to consider their lives as commentaries upon their principles-* we have beenled to surrender ourselves, body, soul, and spirit, to their control. I very much fear that the dogmas of our church are incapable of bearing the test of truth ; and I lonji^ to share that liberty which seems to be the birthnght of man, and to be so largely enjoyed by the people in whose midst our lot has been so strangely cast. I fear that I am fast becoming an heretic ; but I cannot help it." ** It is strange, Pietro, that I have much the same thoughts and feelings : and it is passing strange, as you say. how we have been thrown into this new world of thought and feeling, of freedom and hap- piness. You must instruct me, Pietro ; I know not how to bring my little bark to shore, from themidst of the billows which arise tumultuously around me.** "I will, Alice, with all mjr heart," — replied Pietro* *'But,"— continued he, taking her hana in his, and pressing it tenderly, while he spoke in soft, yet die* tinct tones, which thrilled through her woman's heart, pulsating as it did in every throb for him, and for him alone : ^ promise me, Alice, that, in good or ill, in weal or woe, whatever may be our future lot, Oir lives and our fate shall be one and inseparable^ —that we shall never be separated." H|*J^everr'— said Alice, clinging to his arm, and looking up into his face, with a oountenanoe which 224 T -■J I ti 122 KYSTKUTRS OF k COTTKNT, ! was suifased with the blush of maidea modesty, bal which spoke the deep trosiol her soul, and the firm- ness of W deoisioiu *' Heaven bless thee, dearest Alice, for that word. Now will I protect thee with my life, and lead yoo, as best I may. to the enjoyment of that liberty for which we botn pant. The vows that we made, wero made in ignorance ; they must be displeasing to God, because evidently repugnant to the truth of things. He will absolve us ; and His truth will make us free from the tyranny of man. All will be right, Alice. Trust, and be prudent* Let us bide our time. We shall vet be free 1" He nad become so much excited, while uttering the last few words, that his voice was raised to a Eitch which would have endangered their safety, ad any prying one been ni^h ; but fortunately none observed the interesting pair, or heard the words of treason against the interests of Borne, save the loved one to whom they were addressed, and the Great Be- ing who had witnessed thu plighting of their troth, and who doubtless approved the act, notwithstand- ing the vows which they had made to the Holy Mo- ther Ohuroh, in ignorance and in superstition. They soon reached Mr. Wilmot's door ; and, as they stood a momenty before parting for the night, Pietro said to Alice : " It seems to me that we both need a guide in our new situation, as regards both our position to the church, and our inauiry after truth ; and, as I have no longer any oonfidence in our old ones, which serye hat to DC wilder and mislead us, I shall, on to-mor- tow. procure a copy of the Protestant Bible, and lead it for mjrself . I shall also get a copy for you, Alice, and bring it with me, when next I come. Meanwhile, we will oome to visit that Protestant church, evwy Thursday night, where we heard such thingi, this evening. Farewell, dearest— be prudent •ad 1oqA[ to tU Gfeat Sonree of Light, life, and U- iMBly, for help end for guidaiDoe. Good night, ' [en modesty, but »ul, and the fizin- te, for that word. ie, and lead you, f that liberty for ± we made, were spleaBingtoGocl, 9 trath of things. will make us free U be right, Alice. le our time. We i, while uttering B was raised to a ired their safety, ; fortunately none eard the words of ne, save the loved md the Great Be- ng of their troth, ,ct, notwithstand- i to the Holy Mo- uperstition. ;'b door; and, as ing for the night, sed a ^uide in our ir position to the h; and, as I have ones, which serve shall, on to-mor- «tant Bible, and it a copy for you, en next I come. t that Protestant are we heard such ufest-be prudent Qood nigAtt' StTSTfeBIfid (^ k COKVBSlf. Hi So saying, he tamed away, while Alice sought bet room, and, kneeling down, not in rrayer, as usaaly to Mary—*' the refuge of sinners"— but to ffim^ who is ^^Vietoay.and the truths and the life," she poured out her soul in devout supplication that He would lead tiiem into an acquaintance with the way of sal- vation, and guide them in their present difficult dr- oumstanoes. CHAPTER XXrV. Alice's ignorance of the true nature of the plot she was en gaged hi— Her anxiety on that account— Her determin- ation to act riffbt— Arrival of Mr. Prentiss— Alice's i^ turbation and alarm in consequence— Her interview with Mr, Prentiss— Alice divulges the particulars to Mr. Prentiss — His astonishment at the recital — His deter- mination to befriend Alice— Escape of Pietro and Alice, Thbeb months had now passed since Alice had writ- ten the letter to the south, in the name of Emilie de Vere, which had been dictated to her in the name of the Father General. Mr. Wilmot, if he knew any- thing of her intimacv with the secretary, said no- thing about it; and tne latter, together with Alice, was almost ready to make a public recantation of Boman Catholicism, and to profess the Protestant faith, when a circumstance occurred, which placed her in an exceedingly embarrassing situation, and . had like to have ruined the plot of the Jesuit, era yet it had matured. Alice, on being brought to New York^ had been told that, for reasons which involved the interests of the order, and which it was not necessary she should then be made acquainted with, she waste personate Emilie de Vere, a youug girl, who was about her owa a^, height, complexion, &o ; whose father was a Mr. Charles de Vere, formerly a resident of New York gty, but, for some years, of the parish of B&tpn Boiu(e, in Louirianai a wealthy planter ; and whoM iwwer haA been dMd lor many yean. She wm fm^ I Mi^. B ^ tu HtbTBUtBS Olf k CDl^VBSlf . Inn 8 ther told that the ^art which she was expected to aoty from time to time, would he communicated to her, as it became necessary, and that she was on no account to take any step, or to answer any questions, beyond what was stated to her, without leave and instructions from the Father Qeneral. The part which she had acted before the mayor's court, had all been arranged for her beforehand, and the very language, as far as practicable, dictated to her ; as the General had anticipated, to some extent, the eourse which things would take under his direction, aided by his accomplice, Mr. Wilmot. At that time, she never dreamed, for a moment, that she had a will of her own, or that it would he ^ anything short of perdition for her to ouestion the right of her superiors, whenever required to do their bidding. She was a mere automaton, moved as they might please. But now that new light had broken into her soul, and that she had acquired new views of her rights and duties as an accountable mord agent, who owed an allegiance to high heaven, para- mount to any that she was under to any earthly power, she felt exceedingly distressed at the part that the had acted heretofore, and hardly knew what course to adopt for the future. She had consulted freely with Pietro upon the subject ; but he felt himself wholly incompetent to advise her. If she went forward to the majror, and confessed to him the truth, her former acting in the part which she had played before him, would cause him to suspect her sincerity now, and might place her in circum- stances of danger to her personal liberty: for he would probably regard her as insane ; consider the idea of insanity, as formerly set up, and disregarded through the testimony of the examining physicians, as being founded in fact ; and order her to be re- turned to the Father Qeneral, who would not fail to initiot most leTeie punishment upon her, while Pietro wooid be in no situation to protect her. Oooi 1ETSTISBIE8 OV A OOirVSllT. 135 In tb« power of the General, and she knew her ie« paration from Fietro would be final and for erer* She could not consult with Mr. Wilmot ; for he waa but the creature of the General. She could not throw, herself upon the mercy of the latter, and bej( him to procure the services of some one else in the decep* tion in which she was made to bear a conspicuous part, for this would enrage him, and separate her from Fietro ; since she would be instantly sent back to the convent; and she dreaded the fate that would await her there. '* Ferhaps," thought she, ignorant of the magnitude of the plot in which she was in- volved—" perhaps, after all, it may be a small affair.' and that I may nave but little more to do with it. 1 must bide my time, and act ai circumstances may re* quire. I will not, if I can help it, act dishonestly. God help me to do right." That prayer, though but an ejaculation, was made in sincerity, and was heard in heaven. God did help her, and did reward her for daring, novice as she was in ethics, to do what her conscience approv- ed, in spite of the difficulties which surrounded her. While sitting in her room, one morning, reading the Protestant Bible which Fietro had given her, with her door locked, lest, though in a professedly Protestant family, her secret should be betrayed to the Jesuit General, a gentle rap announced that some one wanted her. Hastily concealing the blessed to« lume which had already given her moral courage as well as moral freedom, she opened the door, and was surprised to see Mr. Wilmot himself standing there, who informed her that a Mr. Frentiss, of Louisiana, desired to see her in the parlour. "I suspect," he added, " that it is some one oon« nected with that business of yours in the south, from a question or two that he asked of me.'* Alice felt her heart beating violently within h&t breast, and as if she were about to suffocate ; but suddenly, and with great effort^ rallying hereelfi sho IM IRHl'JUtXSS OV ▲ OOAVJUi'f* informed Mr. Wilmot that she would be in the par* lonr in a few minutes, and turned to her toilet, as if to adjust her dress. As soon, however, as he had dosed the door, and gone down stairs with his mes- sa^, she burst into a flood of tears, and, throwing herself upon her knees, for a moment or two, ear- nestly implored guidance and help from on high. llien, arismg, and bathing her eyes, she arranged her hair, and went down to the parlour. On her entrance into this room, she saw, seated upon the sofa, a venerable-looking gentleman, of some fifty-five years of age, very genteelly dressed in a full suit of black— his countenance expressive at once of intellect and of ^reat benignity. Bising from his seat, as Alice entered the room, he advanced to meet her, and, with a manner full of sympathy for one whom he looked upon as the victim of Bomish oppression, he said — **I have the pleasure, I presume, of taking by the hand the daughter of my much-esteemed friend, Oharles de Yere. Let me assure vou, Miss Emilie, lor that I believe is your name, that it affords me great satisfaction to see you looking so well, and iu such good hMdth." Thus saving, and shaking her most cordially by the hand, he led her, with the finished manners of a polished ^ntleman, to a seat on the sofa ; and then, seating himself near her, entered into conversation with her, as to the circumstances which had prevent- ed him from sooner paying a visit to her. He was ■nrprised to find, however, that she was ezceediugly bashful and reserved; that her colour came and went with fitful frequency; and that there was something about her whole deportment, which seem- ed to him singular. Yet, recollecting that she had been reared in a convent, had been for some time a nun; and was now a refugee from its walls, he felt disposed, in the kindness of his heart, to attribute it •U lolha paiti and to account ior it on the «oore 4 -&fidin((her story m??mse^:3Sm- IM VfRBBm OV ▲ CPOlimiT* to a iftii&gw. who, if he w«M ditpoted, might do her Tast injury ; he was foroed to tha oonTiotioB that ihe had made a trathf al oonf ession to him and that it had become his strange privilege to look upon one of the daric plots of Rome. « Tour story/' said he to Alioe, " shall never pass my lips. Bnt what do you propose to do P If I can befriend you. and I see plain enough that you stand in need of a friend, I promise }roQ to do so. ** Your frank avowal of this plot, so far as yon stand oonneoted with it, or are aware of its features, has saved yon, my child, from very serious oonse- quenoes; and it would deeply interest me to know by what steps you have been led to adopt the course which you have pursued. But for this we have not time, xou will tell me that the Father General re- sides in the city, and that this Wilmot, with whom you are staying, is a creature of his. No doubt he is already apprised, b^r Wilmot, of my presence here; and he will be anxious to know the result of the interview between us. Tell me, have you no friends in the dty, who could be of service to you in this «ztremity P" " I have but one friend, sir, in this world, so far as I know, besides yourself, and he is not in circum- stances to aid me." ''Ah ! who is he f" inquired Mr. Prentiss, with eagerness, as he felt interested in the welfare of the interesting girl; and, the more he thought dboutit, tiie more certain he became that the Jesuits would scusrifloeher to their disappointed avarice, if they should discover that she had been the means of their defeat. '' He is a young priest," replied Alice, ''the pii Tate secretary of the Father General." *' A young priest, and the private secretary of the Father General !" repeated Mr. Prentiss, with as- tonishment marked in his countenance and tone of tgioe. ^ This ia more mysteiionsBtiU. Ifear,ii^ KTBTBBIB8 01 ▲ OOXVUI'f* 181 ibfld, that 7 A OOKTBNt. ISS K.J 4 Tie three walked together for some length of tune ; and^ before they parted, the offer waa acoept- ed, and the arraDgements all made for their depar- ture, the next day ; both Pietro and Alice bavins most heartily thanked their benefactor, and invoked the blesiinff of heaven upon him. The mail stage of the next dav, going South, bore the old gentleman, together with the ex-nun, and former private aecretiury ; the two latter bearing no token whatever bv which the most scrutinizing could have discovered that they ever wore sacred orders. CHAPTER XXV, Bespotio rule of the Mother Superior^A revolution in the ooDvent— The insurrection quelled by the Father Qen- eral— Alarming intelligence, on his return to New York —His frantic conduct In consequence, Thbeb days had elapsed after the departure of the fugitives, under the charge of Mr. Prentiss, when, late in the afternoon < 'f the fourth, the Father Gen* eral returned home, ca re- worn and gloomy. He had been called suddenly to the convent, to quell a re* volt among the nuns, occasioned by the tyrannical rule of the Mother Superior, who had become so capricious in her temper, and so captious in her ad* ministration of the government of the establish* nient, that those under her spiritual care, despairing of redress unless effected by their own act, had risen, vrith one accord and without a solitar;]^ exception, in open rebellion ; and, deputing a committee of twelve of their number, consisting of the most influential ones among them, to present to the Superior a list of their grievances, and to demand redress, under' pain of being reported to tho Father General, in the event of her refusal, they ceased from all their usuid avocations, and roamed about the building, at their pleasure. Beemingit her best policy to take the lead in^ ealling for the intervention of the Qeneral, sha told c-S.. 114 KtBTBIU'IS 09 A OOMVBHV.i the oommiitae that the wonM take the mattet into oareful ooiiiideration» if they would reaome their dutiee in the oonTent, and, aa soon aa they had left her room, pxiTately deapatched a menenger for that diffnitaijr, requeetiiig hia preaenoe at the ooovent, wuh aa Uttle delay as possihle. By aome means, it Docame known to the nans. ahortly after hia departure, that a messenger had been aent to the eity ; and, enraged at the duplicity of the Mother Superior, their revolt assumed, n poi- aible, a more serious oharaoter than eyer ; and. when the nther Qeneral arrived, it was raging at its veiy height By dint, howeyer, of persuading some into a good hnmour, flogsing others who were more resolute and obstinate, and reforming some of the abuses of which oomplsJnt had been made, the General succeeded in restoring subordination and quiet among the rehel* lioua nuns, who, aooustomed as they were to blind and implicit obedience to their superiors, must have had serious grounds for complaint before they would have Tentured to take a step of so grave a character aa open reyolution. But, during the time that he had spent at the convent, he had heard enough to aatisfy his mind that the temper of the Mother Sa- pd whiobread thus : *' Thu rsday f 12 o*clock. '* Most Bbvsbbnd Fatbbb— <*I hare called again, acoordinor to my promise, bnt still find you absent. Mr. Prentiss and Miss JSmilie had a lonpr interview, this morninfif; but what was the result of it I know not, as I bad no opportunity of listening, and I cannot make much of her looks : though I can see a manifest change in themi and suppose their conversation must bave been of an agreeable character to her. I will call again, this af temoon, *' Tour devoted servant, " Wm. Wilmot." A third note remained upon the table, whose con- tents were as follows: •* Friday Morning^ 8 o^dock, « Most BsvEBEND Fatpeb Gemebal, &c,— ** Beverend and Dear Sir~I know not what to say, or what to do. I know that you will be angry with me ; but I assure you, most solemnly, that I am in no wise to blame. O, that you were at home ! But I must tell you, at once, that EmiUe de Yere has left my house, and gone, I know not where. As she did not come down to breakfast, this morning, at the usual hour, we sent up to the room, and were aston- ished to learn that she had not spent the night at home ; at least, there was no appearance of the bed having been used, which she commonly occupies. Her trunk is in her room, unopened as yet, and everything is in order ; while not the least trace can he found of where she may be. If I knew where yon were, I should immediately despatch a messen- ger for you ; but, in the mean time, I will spare no pains to find her, if she is in the city. When I called at your residence, I asked, in ^our absence, for your private secretary; but was informed that he was not at home, and had not been since last nigbt. Wbalher Ida absence baa anything to do with that mrcfTEBiBs OF JL QOTsnrmr. 137 m of the missing girl, I cannot tell. Of one thing lam sure, however, that neither myself or family gave Miss Emilie any cause of dissatisfaction ; and this only makes the whole affair the more mysterious. ** Awaiting your orders, I remain, with the great- est respect, '* Tour faithful servant, " Wm. WmiOT.'* The Father General had read this last note with profound astonishment, increasing at every fresh une, until, almost beside himself with anxiety and rage, he was about to seize his bat, and hasten to see Mr. Wilmot, when his eye rested, for an instant, upon another note^ lying upon the table, in the su- perscription of which he immediateljr recognised the hand-writing of the secretary. Seizing this, and tearing it open, with an earnestness which indicated the feverish excitement of his soul, he read the fol- lowing astoundinpf intelligence : ''New York, Thursday Mght, 11 o'doek. «To the Father General of the order of Jesuits in the United States. ^BsvEBEND Sm, ** Before this letter will have reached vou, the writer will have been placed at a distance firom the city, which will effectually prevent the possibility of his being overtaken by jou. Where he is gone to, or what his business, will perhaps but little in- terest you, when he informs vou that he has for ever renounced Bomanism, ana embraced the cause of Protestant Christianity. Your past kindness to me would not permit me to leave vou, without bid- ding you farewell, and expressing for you, personal- Ijr, my warm wishes for your future health and hap- piness. In the first drawer of the table in the library, you will find the instrument of my conversion to lArotes- tantism ; and the best pledge I could give yon of my sincerity in wishing you well, is the request that you will read that blessed Toiumei as I have dooOi 224 V m XTSTBBZB8 Of A, OOKTSMT* until you ** shall know the truth, and the truth shall vuiJCe yott free,'' as it has me. •'Very respectfully yours, " PiBTBO DI IjODBTTI.'' It would be impossible to portray, iu language, the state of ezcitemeut into which the Father Gen- etal was thrown by the perusal of this note. There he stoodi pale with rage,—his eyes flashing fire, his teeth close set together ; while the breath came thick and fast, hissing through his expanded nostrils. Presently, dashing the note to the floor, he stamped upon i1^ as though it had been the cause of his wrath, instead <^ being the mere Tehide through which the enraging information had reached him. ^ Purgatory and perdition !" at length exclaimed or, be stamped iBeoibw^'^^*^» rough which the engtb exclaimed aithisP Is the loose upon mer m, that I have in order to play ^e for a fortune >8e, will be found )ols— Protestant- Sious secretary oi my business, has ius grant me pa- tbe nun from her Church— ruus off mpudence,t)rate8 Lrersion to Protes- ,. he should have ' supreme head ol e/iat BLESSED yo- tho brasen-facea shall know the tct has prf «*ri make m tm^ lake measgreaj irgiu I i^of ,^i; why stand I he»* flms, when every moment is preoious—wiiea they already have four days start of me F I will away, and take instant meaeures for their apprehension and return to New York ; if, indeed, this is not all pretence about their having gone from the^ city* Who knows but they are now skulking in some vile hole' in this very place ; while this precious villain seeks to cover their retreat by throwing me upon the wrong scent P I will put my blood-hounds upon their track, be the^ where they may ; and it shall not be my fault if they are undiscovered within twenty-four hours, if they have not left the city. If they have, I swear, by all the Saints in Heaven, to pursue them^to the death. Ah ! they little know my power, if they imagine that they can find a hidine* place from my fury, in any spot on this men oara; Thanks to the Patron Saint of our order^ Ir^ are spread all over the wide world ; and our agenti aio everywhere. Let me but get them onoe in my power, and they shall realize the fearfidkiess oimj wrath, which they have so boldly pxovokedi and set at defiance.** So saying^ the enraged priest descended to th« street, and, m a few minutes, was at the dwelling of Mr. Wilmot, and seated in his parlouTi waiting bis return from some business errand. OHAFTEB XXVI. Uls fugitives arrive at Baltimore— Reside with ICr. Baniiim —A private wedding— Proceed in a vessel for New Of^ leans— Pleasures of a sea voyage— Alarm at the appeav* ance of a supposed pirate— PrepaciAon for aoUon— . Groundless alarm— Arriyal at New Jrleans— Piety and prosperity of Pietro and Alice. Meanwhilb, Mr. Prentiss had reached Baltimore^ with his companions, Pietro and Alice, and p*Ut upy for> day or two, at the Indian Qaeen, then the b0si hotel in the place, and kept by thatjprince of land- ioidf, since gona to his long rest, old David Barnuni. il» ItrnlTBBIES OV A OOAVJBMT. Being an old friend of Mr. PrenUss, the latter toon took an opportunity of mentioning to him, in con« fidenee, tnat Pietro and Alice were two joune: friends of his, who had run away for the purpose of getting jnarried ; that he would much ohhge them hy hring- ing to the hotel some minister, to marry them at six o*clook that evening ; hut that it must he done in the most private possihie manner, without letting any of the inmates of the family know anything about it, Mr. Barnum promised secrecy ; made all the necessary arrangements; and, at the appointed bour^ the two fugitive lovers were united in holy matnmony, in a private parlour of the tavern, hy the Bev. fir. Inglis, then pastor of the First Presby- terian church in the cit^ ; no other witnesses being ptesent, save Mr. Prentiss and Mr. Barnum. The next day, it was thought advisable for the newly •married couple to remain ae much in-doors as posable, and even for them to take their meals in uieir own room, to avoid all possibility of encounter- ing any one who might be on the look-out for them ; whilst Mr* F^ntiss made the necessary arrange- ments for their departure in a fine ship of some three bundred tons, which was to leave for New Or- leans, on the following day. At ten o'clock, the next morning, the anchor bad been weighed, the sails unfurled, the passengers all on board, when the signal was given, the canvass fined with the freshening breeze, and bidding Mr. Baimnm farewell, our little party, in high spirits, and hopeful of the future, were borne away from the wharf at Fell's Poitit, by the noble vessel on whoie deck they stood. Passing Fort McHenrj, they, after a while, emerged into the beautiful waters of the Obesapeake, and, with a smacking breeze, soon passed Annapolis, and reached the Gapes, in twenty- fonr honrs after leaving Baltimore. Here, the pilot baving been discharged, the ship passed out into the waters of the oceaoi and soon lost sight of laud. , 1 ICYBTEIIXCS 07 ▲ COKTBXn. 141 10 laUenoon I him, incon- ^younetfrieuds K)8e of getting hem by bring- ry them at biz list be done in without letting Lnow anything recy ; made all the appointed united in holy the tavern, by e First Presby- witnesses being Barnum. Ivisable for the nuch in-doors as i their meals in ityolenoounter- tk-ottt for them; essary arrange- 16 ship of some ^▼e for New Or- the anchor had be passengers all ten, the canvass ind bidding Mr. y, in high spinU, orne away from noble vessel on tMcHenry,they, autiful waters of king breeze, soon Capes, in twenty. fc. ikere, the pilot assed out into tue sight of laud, There was nothing novel to Pietro in a leaToyage, but to Alice it was a source of wonder and deugnt. The wide expanse of water — the upheaving waves— the blue sky reflected in the great mirror beneath, where the ever changing surface broke in ceaseless beauty — the finny monsters disporting in the briny fluid— the novel characters around her, found in the weather-beaten seaman,— the young sailor who was making his flrst voyage,— the bluff mate, and the ty- rannical little captain, as he strode the deck, monarch of the kingdom, his ship over which he reigned with an iron nUe— tne strange sounds which constant^ fell upon her ear — these all afforded her food for plea* surable excitement, when, indeed, she was well enough to be on deck ; for, although she had escaped sea-sickness, to a considerable extent, yet she suffer* ed a good deal, at times, from nausea, which com* pelled her to lie down in her berth, for hours. They had already passed those points so formida* ble to seamen, Bermuda and Gape Hatteras, and were off Bahama, already rounding into the Gulf of Men* CO, between Ouba and the Florida Beefs, when, one morning, at day •break, the look-out from the mast* head cried, ''sail— ho!" Instantly the cry was re* sponded to on deck ; and the captain, whose momiuflf watch it was, having sent for his spy-glass, swept the horizon with it, until at last he discovered the two topmasts of a rakish vessel, peering just above the sea, while the hull, as yet, seemed buned beneath its waves. When first seen, the stranger was striding athwart the ship, and crossing her path in the rear ; but, as soon as the latter was discovered by the for* mer, she changed her course, and, bracing sharply up in the wind, followed directljr in the wake of the ship, with the manifest intention of overhauling or overtaking her. As soon as this manoeuvre jwas per- ceived by the captain, he instantly ordered uie (^na, of which he had several, to be cleared for action— > the large brass swivel, which stood amid-ships, to be loaded with grape-shoti and those at the sides with •C^' iii iCTBTBBnES OV ▲ OOWZNT. diain-sliot; the swords and small anns to begot ready, as well as the boardiog pikes, and, in short, all hands to be called, and eveiy preparation mads lor defence. While this was.being done, Mr. Pren- tiss, who had heard the uproar, came on deck, fol- lowed, in a few moments, by Pietro, who had also been awakened by the unusual trampinsf of the men overhead. The former immediately offered his ser- vices to the captain,' in any way that he misrht be usef al ; while the latter, doing tne same, hastily re- lumed to the cabin, to acquaint Alice with what was eping on, and to see that her safety was provided for, in the event of an action. Having arranged it so that she could retire into the hold, beneath the water Uhe^ the ship not being fully laden, whenever the pre- sence of danger should make it necessary, and having; soothed her fears as much as possible, he belted upon his body a pair of large pistols with which he had provided himself before leaving Baltimore, and went upon the deck. He found that the stranger was gaining rapidly upon them ; for, while the direction 1mm which the wind blew was unfavourable for the rapid pro^o'ess r.f the ship throusrh the water, it was the very one tnoFt ■nitable to the greatest speed of the dipper bri? w hicU was coming upon thero with giant strides. Her top- masts had first been seen, then her topsnils, then her lower sails, and then her hull, rising black and threa- tening, as it were from the bosom of the ocean— her masts having that peculiar rakish appearance, for which this class of vessels- ^ dipper buHt bri^s of Baltimore— is so remarkable. Now sle was within eiffht or ten miles, '* walking the water, liko a thini; of life j*' while the ship seemed to creep at a snail's pace. Un she came; her sides bristling with cannon ; her deck filled with dark-looking men, armed to the teeth, Wl^h cutlasses and pistols stuck in their belts. ** A p.: sic !— a pirate !*' passed from lip to lip of the stahrart cfew on board the ship; while not a cheek p. rmt to be ^t and, in ghort, oration mad« ne, Mr. Pren- i on deck, foU who had also !ncf of themen ffered bis ser- ,t ho mipht be no, hastiiy re« with what was ,8 provided for, irran^ed it so leath the water mover the pre- ry, and bavin;; he belted upon which be had nore, and went raininpr rapidly rom which the pid prof?re89 of I very one most per briET which les. Her top- )8nil8, then her lack and threa- the ocean— her ppearance, for rbuHt briars of Blie was within er, like a tbincr eep at a snail's U with cannon; 1, armed to the I in their belts. lip to lip of the iUe not a cheek IIT0XSBIXS QF ▲ coarvsKT. lis bUmobed, nor a nerve quivered, as, elaiiding in aqnade by their flpinfl, the men looked each other la the eye, and felt tbat'the^ conldtmit eadb other, and make a good defence, m the hour of need. ** A pirate ;*' said liCr. Prentiss to Pietro, while the lip of the latter quivered, and the moisture was In his eye, as he thought of Alice. ** A pirate !" said the Captain, in low tones, to the crew, while his small frame seemed to expand and grow larger, as, with fire-flashing eye and flashed cheek, he looked proudly upon them, as brave- ^ fenders of his gallant ship, and added, ^ boys— let each one be true as steel. Hold yoorfire until I give the order; and we will blow him out of the water/' <* Aye, that we will, sir," re{>lied a score of voices, in tones which manifested their confidence in their commander and in each other. **irp with the ensign," cried the captain— '^et us see what colours he shows." Up went the stars and stripes, floating languidly in the breeze, from the spanker gaff. This was im« mediately followed by the exhibition of the same flag from the stranger. "What does thatmeanP** asked the captain, of the mate. <*I do not know, sir, unless it be to deceive ui. We had better keep a good look out. or we shall have a how-chaser speaking to us, in a few minutes.'' " See," said the captain, " there it comes even now;** And, while he spake, tiiere was a cloud of smol^ a flash, a report ; and a shot from one of the Ix^w (iruDS careered harmlessly past the ship, and sank hli« siog into tiie water jnst ahead of the good vessel. "I do not know what he means !" remarked 'tiiA captain, ^ unless he wishes us to heave to ; and ttMit I do not mean to do, unless he comes abreast of us.'* On came the brig— she was now within a few yards of the ship ; andj i£ooting ahead, wheeled round her bows, ana, brelhng up the Jow^ sails, floated broad- side to the ship, distant one or two hundred feet* 144 IClOHfiBIXS OV ▲ C(MIVUI9« ** Wbat ihip !• tbat P" cried tbeoaptain of tbebrifir* ''The ship Mercury, of Baltimore^iiine dayt out| bound for New Orleans. What brig is tbat P^' ^ Tbe privateer Hero, of Baltimore, cruiting on the coatt for tbe enemy* Hare you seen anything of bim P" was the response of tbe clipper captain. '* Nothing !" answered tbe commander of the Mer- cory ; and, with a hearty cheer from his crew, repli- ed toby three times three from that of the bri^, both Tessels filed away, each pursuing her own track, and were soon out of sight ox each other. Tbe guns on board the ship were again covered— tbe arms and ammunition put away, while the cap- tain invited his passengers to breakfast, and, drawing forth a bottle of fine old wine, offered as a toast— ''Success to tbe privateer!'* which all drank with enthusiasm. In due time our travellers arrived at New Orleans, where Mr. Prentiss procured horses for the three, there being no better means of conveyance, at that earlv day ; and, in tbe course of a week, Pietro and his lovely wife were domesticated in the hospitable dwelling of their kind host and bis most amiable oompanion, who, being apprised, by her husband, of the interesting history of their guests, had ^'ven them tbat hearty welcome for which the South has Always been so proverbial. . Here Alice soon made herself useful and beloved, as well as remarkable for her simple and consistent gety as a Protestant Christian, while Pietro, bending le energies of bis powerful intellect to the study of the law, soon mastered its intricacies, and was admit- ted to practice as a partner of his patron, Mr. Pren- tiSB. In tbe course of ten years, Fietro had become Mieof tbe most prominent lawyers in all that region of^oountry, and was elected to Congress, where he •lood bigb as an intellijB^ent, honest, and eloquent statesman^ and was distmguised for his high-toned (l4Uotism« He ae^umulated -property, as well as mrasEBnu o* a oomnre. IM '•V gatbered great honours in the practice of his profes- giou; and| when he died, left an ample fortune to bis two children, tbe youui; Pietro and Alice, who were worthy sdons of a noble stock. Mr. Prentiss never regretted the trip that he had made to the North, in pursuit of his ward, Emilie de Yere, nor his interview with Alice Soule, which had resulted so mysteriouslv in tbe rescue of a most in* teresting couple from the bauds of a cruel and blood«i thirsty persecution, which would have been tbe sure result, had this singular interposition of Divine Pro^ videuce not been made in their favour — and it was to him a source of high gratification to relate the par* ticulars of their history to bis friends, whenever oc- casion served, and to leave them recorded among his papers, as a reminiscence of events which had occur* red in his own history in a diary of bis life, which he made for the use of his children. CHAPTER XXVn. The Father General's interview with Mr. Wilmot^An an- gry dispntation'-Oriinination and re-crimination->The arch-plotter vows vengeance against his tool— Proceeds to put his threat in execution—Interview with Mr. Eetchum— The Father General* a orders to him— -Scouts sent in all directions, in search of the fugitives— All search in vain — Mr. wilmot and his family mined, and turned out In the streets — Tidings of the lost fugitives, from Father Beaupres. Wb left the Father General seated in the parlour of Mr. Wilmot, awaiting bis return from some business errand in town, and will now look in upon tbe inter* view which occurred between these two worthies. ". When Mr. Wilmot returned from down town, at he called it, he found the Father General in no ami* able mood ; and, no sooner bad he opened the door of the room in which tbe latter was seated, than the (General began a tirade of abuse, which was of the fiercest character. He upbraided him, in tbe ooars* estlangaage, for oonuivauce at the escape of the um. 146 mmniBS ov ▲ ocnmnni* and told him, to his faoe, that he WMa liaraud a tooundiel. Mr. Wilmot, although a Oatholio, and a pliant tool iu the hauda of the Jesnite, haTiug ao- compliahed for them maoy a dirty pieee of intrigue, was jet a man of some iade|)enaeuoe of feeliug, as weUaa of verv strong and irritable temper, and oould not whoUy repress the risings of resentment at the unreasonable oouduct of the Qeneral. who, borne away by disappointment at the flight of Pietro and ▲lioe, would listen to no excuse upon the part of Mr. Wilmot, but sought to wreak his Teugeauoe upon the latter, whom he persisted in oousidering as an ac- oompliee. This the latter resented, and, forgetting himself, indulged in some imprudent retorts, which but incensed the priest the more; until both were excited to the highest pitch, and fiercely hurled at each other epithets which could have oulv come frotn the lowea^ and most degraded convicts of our prisons and penifientiaries. At length, the General, full ol malice, and convinced in his own mind, that it was wholly impossible that the escape of Alice should have been without the connivance of Mr. Wilmot, said to him: ^ You shall smart for this, you scoundrel. Ton !jave, for purposes of your own, and disregard! ul of the interests of the church, dared to brave my anger, and aid this girl in her escape, or at least connived at it, to the great detriment of those interests—'tis well I you shall feel the weight of my auj^er before forty-eight hours have rolled over your head. Mark well what I say. William Wilmot, your doom is sealed!" So saying, the General left the i>arlour, slamming to the door with violence behind him, and, with his countenance flushed with anger, went forth into the street, and sought, with hurried steps, his own dwelling. Having arrived at home, and ascended to his oa- bioeti he drew iron the iron safe a iar^e red pocket- wtDniBi ow ▲ cofsmar 147 |K)ok, luid MoCyig it, took out « «»all ptokot ol notes of haua fer T^trioat amountoy and romt^itti^ three, to whi^h was affixed the name ol William Wil« mot, all ol tbam dalnd eon. time ^^ck, d^te one day after date* and amounting togeU^ «f to six thousand seven hundred and fifty ;wo do'J^, with interest from their date ; and, hasiiij penning a note, rang tiie bell to summon a servant. On the appearance of the latter, he handed him the note, and bade him take it to Mr. Ketchum, the lawyer, and bring bwM)k an immediate answer. lu about twenty minutes, the servant returned, aud iuformed his master that Mr. Ketch um awaited his pleasure, in the drawing-room below. **6how him up," was the response of the Father (general, who was deepljr engaged in the examina- tion of some papers which were lying upon the ta« ble before him. Mr. Ketchum, meanwhile, was introduced into the cabinet, within whose walls he was, by the way, quite intimate, having frequently visited them be- fore ; aud being seated, the General proceeded to tdl him, as much as he deemed necessary of the arrival aiid subsequent flight of the nun, requesting Mr. Ketchum to take immediate steps for the quiet search, throughout the city, for the fugitives ; telU ing him that he would give him one thousand doU lars, if successful, and pay all the expenses incurred. The lawyer, having received from the General a written description of the jpersonal appearance of the f a<;itives, was about to retire, for the purpose of ^• stitutiug search after them, when the Father detain* ed him, for a moment, to say that he wished him to take the three notes which he handed to him, pre- seut them for immediate payment, and if not paid at sight, to bring suit upon them, and get the money immediately. Theiaw^er, who wasa nominal member of the Baptist church, bc^ really a Jesuit in disguise, bow- ' 148 KnauEA ow ▲ oownr. •d low, tad, promising to oomply with the inttnio* tiont of the Oeneral, and to loie no time, withdrew to earry them into effect In the coarse of two hourii not less than thirty men were exploriDg the citv, in •Tory direction, in pursuit of the runaways, and in- ?[uiritag at eTerjr probable or possible source for iu- ormation, but in Tain ; while so quietly was tins iuTestigation made, and so systemized, as to the dis- trict or quarter of the city in which each of the agents pushed his inquiries, that not one of these thirty agents knew anything of the rest, or that there were others besides himself engaged in the pursuit. Meanwhile, an officer appeared at the store of Mr. Wilmot, and, taking him to one side, presented the three notes for payment, informing him that, if they were not paid instantly, suit would be brought upon them, and the money made, without regard to the eonsequences. Mr. Wilmot turned deadly pale, and told the offi- cer that he could not possibly, at so short notice, raise snob an amount ; but that, if he could have four or fiye days in which to do it, he thought he might possibly saye himself from ruin, by procuring assistance from some of his friends. The officer in- formed him that his orders were peremptory, and on his being told that Mr. Wilmot had not the money, and oouid not pay the notes, he seryed a writ upon him, and took the legal steps necessary to secure the property iu the establishment from being made away In ten days from that time, the store of Mr. Wil- mot, with all its contents and the furniture of his dwelling, were sold under execution, and himself and family turned into the streets, beggared. The Father Q«neral was ayenged. No efforts, howeyer, that be could pat forth, by means of agents, by writing letters abroad, or other- wise, could procure any tidmgs of the fugitives, until at length a letter came from the Father BeaupxeB| raw. with the inttrno- 10 time, withdrew one of two hourii oring the citv, in unaways, and in- ible touroe for iu. quietly was this ized, astothedis- ich each of the not one of these rest, or that there >d in the pursuit. ,t the store of Mr. le, presented the him that, if they be brought upon out regard to the and told the offi- so short notice, if he oould have > it, he thought he 'uin, by procuring I. The officer in- )remptory, and on kd not the money, Brved a writ upon >8ary to secure the being made away store of Mr. Wil- 1^ furniture of his ion, and himself I, beggared. The inid put forth, by abroad, or other- lie fugitives, until E*ather fieaupres^ mrsTCAiBS ov A ooinrsHT* 149 slBliton Bovge, informing him of the arrival, at that plaoe, of Mr. Prentiss, together with a young roan and his wife, both of foreign features, who werePro« tsstantt, however, and inmates of his family, but sbout whom he could learti nothing. From the de« icription given of their persons, nevertheless, the Fa- ther Qeueral became convinced that they were the foKitives, and immediately wrote to his correspond- ent at B&ton Rouge, stating his conviction on the subject, and requiring the priest there to give him constant information of their movements, and to learn all he could about them. Such, howeyer. was the high respectability of their protector, and his s&d their own yigilance, as they knew that they would be watched, and their lives be in jeopardy, that neither the General nor his subordinate ever dared to do anght against them, or to their injury. ;if > f!' Ml/ CHAPTER XXVin. Growing abuse of power by the Mother Superior— The F^ ther Oeneral resolves to remove her by a violent death ^The Mother Superior determines on a similar fate for him— Double-dealing of Sister Martina— By here^mg- S rated repor'cs of the Father General's intrigues wiw e nuns, the Mother Superior wrought up to a state of frenzy— Fiendish exultation of Martina at the success of her scheme — ^I'he instruments of death— Soliloquy and prayer of the Mother Superior— Change in her de* portment Mbaitwhilb, the Mother Frances was becoming more and more inyoWed in difficulty as regarded the administration of rule in the Convent of Annanoia* tioQ. The nuns were turbulent and rebellious. The Father General received, from his private agents in the establishment, accounts of the tyranny and op« pression of the Mother Superior ; but, as yet, nothing had been done by her, which would afford him the opportunity for which he had so long waited— no* wmg that woidd joitify her removal or degrad«tioo« KO mrSTEBIXS OF A coxmsNT. At leugth, wearied out, and his patience exhaust* ed, for he was frequently called upon to visit the convent, and to interpose his authority for the ad- justment of the difficulties which daily arose between the ruler and the ruled, he at last determined to take the matter into his own hands, and to adopt a course which would accomplish the desired end, without leaving any possibility of disagreeable consequences to himself. In short, he determined to hasten the departure of the good Mother from the scene of her tribulation and trial, and to place her in a situation to be canonized as a saint ; rightly believing that the nuns of the Convent of the Annunciation would much rather worship her as a saint, enrolled among the departed worthies whose names are so numer- ous among the devotees of the Catholic church, than obey her as a tyrant on earth ; and that once out of the way, no particular inquiry would be made by the inmates of the convent, as to the mode of her death ; while her friends and admirers abroad could be puf off with any plausible tale. Having arrived at this amiable conclusion, the Oeneral only awaited a fitting opportunity ; and for this he did not wait very long. The Mother Superior, on her part, however, had strangely enough arrived at a determinatiou, not less full of good intention and of canonization for the Father General, than his for her. She had become apprized, in due time, not only of what had taken place between the General and the deceased Sister Theresa; but through Sister Martina, whom the former had unwittingly offended, and who, at once, to avenge herself upon the (General, and to mortify and annov the Mother Superior, concealed nothing of what she knew to have transpired, for years pasf^ in the history of his connection with the nuns of the Qonvent, the Superior had learned all about his in- trigues and ooquettinga with the fair sisterhood. ^or had the statement made to her been one of plain, onvaroiahed f aoti^bathad been greatly exaggerated. mrsTsuiES OF ▲ oontent. 151 Sister IK^artina told her that the Father General never visited the conveut, without spending a por« tion of his time in the room of this or of that nun ; that he sometimes met them in the garden, and some- times received visits from them in his own room ; that she had more than once gone to the door of the latter, when she knew that he had a nun with him, and, putting her ear to the key-hole, had listened to their whispering conversation, and had overheard remarks made about her, that were of the most of- fensive character. Indeed, the Sister Martina, in these conversations with the Mother Superior, spar- ed not her imagination, but delighted to draw large- ly upon it, while she rejoiced in her very heart at the writhings of her listener, as the poison of jea- lousy and hatred diffused itself through her aark and malignant soul. With all the self-possession of the Mother Superior, the workings of her mind would betray themselves— would speak out from her countenance, as the blood boiled in her veins, and thoughts and purposes of vengeance sprang up, cla- morous for execution. Sister Martina had, by her address, wormed her- self into the confidence of the Father General, and had made herself necessary to his purposes. She was, in fact, at that very time, carrying on for him an intrigue with a young and handsome nun in the convent, who had but recently taken the vows of the order, and who was one of the converts from Pro- testantism, made out of the family of boarding pu- I'ils. This intrigue she did not hesitate to commu- nicate to the Mother Superior— and to apprise her that, on that day week, Sister Paulina had consent- ed to see file Father General, in the garden of the convent, in a pretty little summer-house that had been erecfted about a year before, and was now co- hered thickly with clematis and other pretty vines in fall bloom; theliour of their meeting to be mid- night Thiinking lier for the information, the Mo« ' • i ,....,.* 162 inrSTEBXBS 09 k inrEKT. ther Superior kissed the Sister Martina, with great apparent affection, and, biddin^i^ her be discreet, and say nothing to the General about the oonyersation that had taSen place between them, dismissed her, for the present, saying that she would resume it at another time* Sister Martina turned away with an expression of high satisfaction upon her wrinkled and ugly fea- tures ; while her deformed person receded from the presence of her Superior, with the stealthy tread and almost tortuous windings of a serpent ; and, when she had reached her room, she exclaimed with a laugh, which was like that of a fiend who has ac« oomplished some infernal purpose. *' Ha ! ha I how the poison works ! How she writhed in my hands, as I let loose the scorpions of jealousy and rage in her soul ! How pale she be- oame, and then how flushed ! Ha ! ha ! It does me good to see her thus tortured. I know how to play with her feelings, and my revenge for all the insults and injuries she has heaped upon me, shall be to take her in my hand as I would a poor earth-worm, and my soul shall sate itself with veuf^eance, as I see hers writhing in agony before me. Thus, too, will I have satisfaction for the insult offered to me by the Father General. He called me the dwarfish vir- gin, did he, when talking with Sister Pauiiua, and laughed at the idea of my never having had * an offer of matrimony P' 'Tis well, I will ^oad this Mother Superior until, driven to desperation, she •hall commit some deed of violence ; and then will I be revenged on both." The Mother Superior had retired to her oratory, and there was engaged in walking up and down the small room ; her countenance now deadly pale, as though she were suffering mortal agony, and now ■nffused with crimson, as though the feverish blood would burst the veins, and leap forth impatient of rastntint Violently agitated, she gesticulated an- ,40n^^^ ** ■ ^mr>^j§ 2CT8TBBIBS 07 A 00N7B1IT* 1^3 grily, wbile she at times mattered to herself words oi angry resolution and of dark md bloody purpose. At length, she paused for a few moments, and, with her fore*finger and thumb supporting her chin as it rested upon them, her arms folded upon her bosom, she stood sternly thinkiDg ; then, approaching the escritoire, she unlocked i^ and drew forth a short dagger, enclosed in a silver sheath, and, taking it from the scabbard, felt its point, with gx^t care, as if she would assure herself of its sharpness and readi- ness for use. Apparently satisfied, she replaced it. and then, approaching a small table on one side of the room, upon which stood a beautiful work-box, inlaid with mother of pearl— the gift of the Father (General in other days— she unlocked it, and drew forth a small, white paper, neatly^ f olded^jwhich, on being opened, was found to contain a whitish pow- der. This she looked at, for a moment, with a min- gled expression of joy and sadness, and, nutting it back into its receptacle, resumed her walk, from time to time, audibly expressing herself thus : ** 'Tis a life of toil, and care, and anxiety, at loest: why should I wish to Uyo P '* He, whom alone I have loYcd in all the ^'orld, has ceased long since to care for me— has long de- oeived me— and now, loves another — he must atone for his infidelity to me. ** His vile paramour shall perish in his arms. ** I will be avenged l** Thus, communing with her own thoughts, she spent an hour or more, and then, throwing herself upon her knees before the crucifix, bent her head in prayer to the Yirg^in, while she implored '* the Mo- ther of Gk>d" to aid her in the purposes which she had formed.# Thus do the self -deluded devotees to a soaUdestroyin£[ superstition, insult high Heaven, by imploring their objects of worship to assist them in theaooomplishmentof themostdiabolioalof crimes. Having completed her orisonsi the arose, oalm and 1 224 X .1 |. 154 mrtfnsBiBs ov a oontekt. tranquil, and went forth from the oratorji with firm; determination written upon her brow, and with n Sladdnesa of manner wnioh did not fail to attract tie attention of the inmates of the family, and wai reverted to by more than one of them after the occur* rence of events which transpired within the next ten days, and whose recital will occupy the ensuing chap. ter. Indeed, more than once, during this interv^ the attention of the nuns was attracted to the very peculiar deportment of the Mother Superior, who seemed, at tmies, to be greatlv abstracted in thought, yet to have suddenly grown kinder in the treatment of those around her, and voluntarily to commend herself to their regard, by the reformation of some abuses, and the institution of some regulations which CK>ndaoed to their comfort. CHAPTEB XXIX. The Fiither General's visit to the convent^His conrteoui and affable reception — ^The Mother Superior suddenly changes her deineanour, and accuses him of mconsUmcy —He solemnly denies the accusation— 8he reiterates tba charge, and requests him to swear, by the virgin, that it is false, ere she will believe him— She stabs bini, while taking the ontb— I'aulina, nuother victim to her guilty passion, stabbed by the Mother Superior, in the arbour ^Destroys herselt by poison. SoiOB eight days after the time of the last conversa- ticn which occurred between the Mother Superior and Sister Martina, as related in the preceding chap- ter, the Father General paid a visit to the Convent of the Annunciation. He was received, by the Superior, with an unusual degree of kiudDCss and affability ; an unusual mani- festation of gratification at his arrivali which did not fail to attract his notice ; and when, ou inquiry of several of the nuns, in private, they informed him that, for a week past, a remarkable change seemed to have oomeofer the spirit of their rubr; that^io ItYStEXUSS OS* A OONVENT. 155 shorL she had spoken to tHem in tones of kindliness —had made several important changes in the estah- lishment, of her own accord ; and had, daring that time, been Tery much reserved, it is true, and had worn a yvy pensive countenance, yet had given no fresh occasion for complaint — the General was sur- prised, yet pleased, ana began to imagine that, at length, without any effort on his part, the Mother Superior had determined to change her policy * while he was not a little gratified to thi ik that he would not be compelled, after all, to resort to a mode of re- dress which was really repugnant, even to bis feel- ings, unscrupulous as he was in reorard to the adop- tion o^ means for the accomplishment of his ends ; ever acting upon the prime motto of the order, that " the end sanctifies the means." He was introduced into the parlour of the convent, where the nuns and boarding pupils were assembled to greet him. The Mother Superior exerted herself to entertain him ; her noble conversational powers appearing to be taxed to their utmost, to make the visit a most agreeable one. The tea-table was sup- plied with several unwonted delicacies, which were freely shared in by all present. Happiness and con- tentment sat, for the time, on all faces, while none seemed to enjoy the occasion more than the Superior. The Father General was surprised, yet deceived — and sought in vain to read the countenance of the Superior. She met his eye without quailing, and ap- f eared to look upon him with unusual affection. Whatever were her real feelings, they were so com- pletely disguised as to be beyond the reach of detec- tion. No one for a moment dreamed of the possible occurrence of anyUiing, in the course of a few hours, which would filf every mind with horror, and cause even the dark-hearted Martina to tremble with af- fright. It was a scene of masterly acting on the part of the Superior ; only finding its counterpart in thai which took place in hex private parlour and in i:\ t\ P ) ' i f 166 imnooss o» a oouvskt. ^ her oratory; within the two or three hours immedi- ately succeeding the pleasant interview of the mem- bers of tlds numerous family around the tea-table— or in those in which, at different periods in the his- tory of the Jesuits— their brightest geniuses have ex- hibited the most perfect control oyer every thought and feeling, as well as over ever]^ phyncal organ which could outwardly convey an idea of what was -passing internally, and in which the mrntle of fair- est hy pocrisv has been thrown over the darkest and most damnaDle intents and purposes. Bising from the tea-table, the Mother Superior, with her most graceful and winning manner, invited the Father General to the private parlour, for con- ference, as she said, upon the affairs of the convent, and, preceding him, led the way to that room which had witnessed so many curious interviews between these two remarkable characters. Having entered this retired apartment, where no prying eye could reach them, the Superior, having fastened the door, as she usually did when she had any very important communication to make, most courteously invited the General to be seated, and, 8 lacing herself by his side upon the sofa, took his and in hers, and, in tones of the softest note, re- called images of the past, scenes which had long gone by, and, while the tear stood in her eye, linger- ed upon reminiscences of endearment and of fond- ness which were common to them both, and which, while they oast a sadness upon her features, touch- ed his heart, and melted it into an unwonted mood, covered over as it was with the crust of selfishness, and indurated by the feelings and dark purposes which had so long dwelt there. He joined freely in the conversation, and seemed to take pleasure in gra- tifying the state of mind into whidi the Superior had fallen. Thtti passed away an honr. when the Superior •coaei and| pnahisg aside the sliding panel which se- 9 hours immedi- lew of the mem- ithetea-tahle— nods in the his- ;eniuseB haye ex- 9r eyery thought phyncal organ dea of what was e mrntle of fair- ' the darkest and B. [other Superior, manner, invited >arlour, forcon« B of the convent, that room which erviews hetween tment, where no Superior, having d when she had to make, most be seated, and, e sofa, took his loftest note, re- h^hich had long her eye, linger- nt and of fond- oth, and which, features, touch- inwonted mood, t of selfishness, dark purposes joined freely in pleasure in gra- 3h the Superior n the Superior panel which 86- VT8TBBXE8 OF ▲ OOHVJUMT* 167 parated the private parlour in which they were seat- ed, from the bed-chamber, invited the General to vi« sit her oratory, where she had. she said, something to show him. Passing througn the chamber, they soon stood in the room beyond, where, opening a small cabinet, she showed him the various presents which she had received from him, from time to time, arranged together upon the shelves. Here was the pretty work-box inlaid with mother of pearl ; a rich- ly bound breviary, with golden clasps ; a beautiful crucifix in \yotj ; a variety of ornaments in gold, gemmed with rich jewels ; several volumes in ele- gant bindings ; and many abides of price and vertu ; all of which she seemed to have treasured up with great care, and ti have preserved as tokens of affec* tion. Putting her arm around him, and reclining her head upon his shoulder, while she pointed to these gifts thus arranged in their beautiful receptacle, she said to him, in accents which fell upon his ear with peculiar significance, and which caused him to tremble, he knew not why, yet so as to be evident both to her and to himself, — ^ '* Francois, once you loved me ; but now you love me not. The evidences of your former affection I have gathered together here, and have delighted to look upon them. It is pleasant to do so still, al« though that affection is now transferred to another, and has been shared with others, while I fondly thought it V .a all my own." ** Tou wrong me, Louise, indeed you do," replied the Qeueral. *'Nay, Francois, do not attempt any longer to de- ceive me, nor yourself. Tou love me not. Another, now in this building, has your affectious— you know it— God knows it." ** Tis false as midnight is remote from noon-day I" cried the Jesuit. " And yet at midnight— but two hours henoe—yon are to meet PauUna in ttie arbour in the gardeu, I9 ttnotwr ' s| til '! i 158 XTSTXBIES OF ▲ OOlMVJfiNT* <* It it not 80," replied the General. << Paulina! Paulina!" h^ addea, eaddenly assuming a thought- ful attitude, as if endeayouring to call some one to his mind whom he had forgotten — " Paulina— I know no one of that name— who is she ?" ** The young nun who hut recently took the Teil." *' Ah ! I recollect her now," responded the Qen- eral — '* I recollect her now, but haye neyer seen her since the day upon which, in the chapel, she assum- ed the religious habit. Who can haye told you that I was to meet her in the garden to-night P" ** No matter who told me," said the Mother Supe- rior, ** if it be not so. Tou know how I loyed you —with what rare affection. It is no wonder that I should be jealous, when I am conscious that I grow old, and that my attractions are not what they once were. But no matter— if you are sincere in what you haye just said— if you really are not pledged to meet Paulina in the arbour to-night, at midnight, glace your hand upon that crucifix, and swear, by lie Virgin, that it is not so ; and I will belieye you, and loye you with all my heart's deepest loye." Without a moment's hesitation, the Jesuit ap- proached the crucifix, and, standing with his back towards the Mother Superior, placed his baud upou the symbol of his faith, and made the solemn decla- ration of his undiyided attachment to, and affection for, her. Meanwhile, as he had adyanced to the crucifix, and while his hand was placed upon it, the Superior bad drawn forth, from her bosom, the dagger whose point she had examined with such care a few days before, and, stepping uo quietly behind him, just as he pronounced the words— *'' I call upon thee, most Holy Mother of God, to witness that I love Louise, and Louise on earth—" She plunged the dagger to his heart, crying, as she did so— " Perjured wiretch I die, and go to perdition^ wit]^ inrernsBZES of ▲ qostbst. 159 ih« damning falsehood yet trembling upon thy lip, Q0| reap the abmidant hanreBt of your falsehooa and treachery, in the regionsof eternal infamy and woe P 'With a cry of mortal a^ony, the Father General fell to the floor, suddenljr turning half round, as the weapon penetrated his vitale, so as to fall not u]^ his face, but upon his side ; and the blow, having been but too fatally aimed at his heart, a convulsive throe or two ensued, and Louise stood alone, there in her oratory, with the dead body of Francois Ja« bert lying at the foot of the crucifix, upon which he had but the moment before perjured himself. Louise, the Mother Superior, drew from her pocket a handkerchief, with which she carefully wiped the blade of the dagger ; and then, replacing the latter in its sheath, and throwing the handkerchief upon the floor, she stood for a few momenta with her arms folded, looking down upon the dead body, and tiioi exclaimed — *' If there be an hereafter, Francois Jnbert, you are now in perdition, and I am avenged for the wrongs you have done me. Two hours more, and she, whom you would have ruined, this night, ai you have ruined me, will bo in eternity too ! I, too, shall quietly follow. The morning's sun will arise to see us pale and ghastly, and to tell to the world the story of woman's love, of woman's revenge! Francois^ I will soon be with you." So saying, she turned away, locking the door of the oratory behind her, as she entered the bed-cham« ber, and throwing herself upon the bed, remained quietly there until the convent clock told the hour of midnight. Arising from her couch, she threw a cloak around her, and, drawing the hood over her head, passed through the private parlour, carefully locking the door, and groping her way along the corridor, and down the great stairway until reaching the back dooir, ahe went out into the dark night, and stealth* i 'H,fJ 160 UIBTEJUXS OV ▲ OOWBIIT* ily adTaneed to the gardeo. Here ebe found the gate doted ; and, rightly supponing that no one as yet had passed before her, she entered, and hastened to the arbour. Here, listening for a moment to ascertain if any one were there, she entered, and, taking her seat, awaited the coming of the Sister Paulina. The arbour was constructed of lattice work, with large ii^terrals, but was so thickly overgrown with dematis and other running Tines, as that whatever little light was emitted from the stars was entirely esduded, and all was darkness within. Tet, as the •ntranoea were at either end, one seated within could Tery distinctly recognize the person of him or her who shonld seek to enter. The Superior had not been long seated before a light step was heard advancing towards the arbour ; and presently she distinguished the figure of the Sis- ter Paulina peering into the darkness, as if endea* Touring to ascertain if any one were there. ** I will seat mjrself for a while," she said, ** until lie oomes. He will be here presently." 80 saying, she entered, and seated herself directly opposite to the Superior, who, having previously drawn forth the same dagger which she had used, a short time before, for the destruction of the Father General, suddenly sprang forward, and, seizing the trembling girl, before she had time to scream or to make the least resistance, plunsed the weapon into her bosom, exclaiming, as she did so — ** Die, base wanton ; I am the Mother Superior/* The poor girl was not instantly killed ; and the Superior, finding this to be the case, gave her two auooessive stabs with the sharp instrument, before •ignt of life ceased to be exhibited ; then, throwing down the weapon, by the side of the dead body, she left the arbour, and, regaining the building, went up tfaifs to her chamber ; leaving the door, leading di« feetiT into it, unlocked. Going to a table upon ^bidi stood 1^ docanteir o| w«t9r and a ^blet, nhp l^mrBBIES OF A CONTENT. 161 took from her bosom the folded paper, which she had looked at iu her oratory, a few days before ; and pouriuff its conteDts into the water, she drank the poisoned liquid, without pausing or hesitation. Then, Iviug down upon her couch, she composed her limbs decently, and soon fell into a lethargy, from the efiFects of the poisonous drug she had swaU lowed. Anon the potion begun to work its deadly ofElce ; and, ere the light of morning dawned on the conyent, the Mother Superior, burdeued with all her crimes, was summoned into the preseuce of her Maker. Thus perished, by her own hand, this extraordin« ary woman, who, had she been earljr trained up in the principles of a pure and holy religious life^ might haye become an ornament to her sex. Depnyed, in early life, '^f the care and attention of her mother, and subjected to the stem and almost unparental temper and disposition of her father, she, no doubt, early imbibed some of those incipient traits of char* aotcor which so awfully marked her future guilty ca- reer. And then, another important ad j unct in smo- thering her better feelings was, the circumstance of her being subjected, in the days of her youth, to be a sufferer from the direful eyeots which oyerspread her unhappy country, during the reign of terror that marked the French reyolution. But the great source from whence sprung the turbid streams which blackened and defiled her future life, was unques- tionably to be traced to the souUdestroyiug dogmas and yile superstition which so peculiarly character- ize the Bomish system. She was undoubtedly a wo- man of strong passions ; and, for the accomplishment of her parposes,«and the attainment of any object she had bent her mind upon, no obstacle appeared too difficult for her to surmount, nor any crime too lieinous for her to perpetrate, so that, by so doing, she might be enabled to gratify her pride, her lust; and her ambition. To rule and domineer oyer others ^M hif d«rlin$ object ; and W09 b^ to thi^ daring \ 162 1RBTBBXB8 OV ▲ OOAVBITf* IndiTidoal who called in qaettion, or endeaToni^ to thwart, h«r aatbority ! No lubtlety or oannint?^ eoold oiroumTent her Tigilanoe. She was a thoroop^b Jesoit; and duplicity and subterfuge were allioi which she bad oyer ready at commaud, to assist her in any nefarious project on which her mind was bent. In short, she was a fit instrument to carry out the great object which Popery has oyer aimed to accomplish, namely, to increase the number of its deluded victims, howeyer base and dishonourable the means employed to accomplish that object, and to destroy heretics, and every other obstacle that op- posed the success of this unholy design. CHAPTER XXX. Alarm and consternation in the conyent— Dtsoorery of the dead bodies— The bodies of the Mother Superior and Sis- ter Paulina laid in the same grave — All efforts to eluci- date the mystery in vain— The oflBces of Father Qeneral and Mother Superior filled up — Partial revelations and suspicions of the dying Sister Martina--01osing remarks. Qbbat was the consternation, the next morning, in theoonyent, when, after matins, from which the niiT>8 missed both the Father General and the Mo- ther Superior, as well as the Sitter Paulina— a ser- Tant went to the room of the Superior, and found her, after ineffectually knocking at the door, stretch- ed lifeless upon her bed ; her very handsome features wearing a very slight iindication of a momentary pang of pain. The seryant was horror-struck at what she beheld, and soon raised the alarm, by her cries, when the room was ouickly thronged by the astonished and terror-stricken nuns, who, gazing at the corpse, and then in one another's faces, seemed to ask of each other the question — ^**Who has done thisP' No answer, however, was returned : and all was envelop- •d in mystery, perplexity, and fear. A> Joon as the ei^citement respectinj^ the deceased IfTSTBBXBS 07 ▲ OOWSZVT. 168 king the deoeased MotLer Superior wai tomewhat abated, the atten* tion of the nuni waa directed to the missinK Father Qeneral. Search waa made for him, throughout the' conTent, io eyery room to which they couid gain ao- ceia, but he was nowhere to be found ; and they paye over their endeayours to find him, under the impression that he had left the conyent. The anxiety of the nuns, on account of the non- appearance of the Sister Paulina amongst them, was not so great ; as they imagined she might be detain- ed in her cell, through indisposition. Great, how- eyer, was the consteruation and dismay of the whole sisterhood, when, an hour or two after finding the body of the Mother Superior, two or three of the nuns, who were walking in the garden, entered the arbour, and there found the dead body of Sister Pau- lina, stabbed in three places, and surrounded by a pool of blood. They were almost petrified with as- tonishment and dread, and looked around, expecting that some assassin was lurking near, and that they might probably be the next yictims. Becoyering, howeyer, from their stupor, they summoned assist- ance, and had the body conyeyed into the house. At length, on the afternoon of the second day, after they had interred the Mother Superior and the Sister Paulina, and that most strangely too« in the yery same graye, it occurred to some of the nuns that they had not looked iuto the oratory. This they found locked; but, on breaking into the room, how they were shocked to discoyer the lifeless form uf the Father General upon the fioor, lying at the foot of the beautiful crucifix. Every thing in this room, as in the bed-chamber and in the private parlour, wore an air of intense repose* There were no signs of yiolenoe, or of mortal struggle between contending ]>artie8. Who could haye perpetrated the dark deeds which met the g^e of the nuns, and of the priests who had been summoned to their aid, in the oratory, the bed-ehamber, and the arbouir iu the garden f 164 H'lSTAUXES 09 ▲ OOKVXNT* i It was a mysteiT wlifoh none conld unravel* And, takinfif into oonBiaeration the high poeition of at least two of the parties— the head of the order of Jesuits in the United States — the Superior of the Convent of AnDunciatiou— there was a daring at- tached to the perpetrator of the deed, which showed that the assassin was of no common order. Every nun, every iomate of the family, was care- fully and most rigidly scrutinized, questioned, and cross-questioned, but all in vain: nobody knew aught about it, save those who had been actors in tiiat dreadful tragedy, and they were past being questioned. Sadness and gloom fell upon the inha- bitants of the convent. The suite of rooms, hitherto appropriated to the Mother Superior, were carefully locked up— everything remaining just as she left it, and continued so for years. The place vacated by the death of the Father Gen- eral was duly filled— that of the Mother Superior was also supplied— the dead had been buried and well*nigh forgotten, when, at length, the Sister Mar* tina came to lie upon her death-bed ; and, consci- ence prompting her, she sent for the then Silperior of the convent, and related to her the events, in the life of her predecessor, with which the dying nun stood in anywise connected ; the conversations which had taken place between the Mother Frances and herself; her jealousy and writhings under the feel- ings which the conduct of the Father General had awakened in her bosom ; and the suspicious that were aroused in the mind of Sister Martina, on the discovery of the dead bodies, that the Mother Frances herself was the murderer of the General, of the nuu, and then had taken poison to destroy her own life. There seemed, to the Mother Superior, to whom this relation was made, but too much ground to be- lieve that it was as the dying nun tuspeoted ; but, bejrond these 8uspioioii% there waa but uttle positive OTidenpe of any fcin4f mnsTBBXEs ot ▲ ooinrnKV. 165 The threats uttered ai^ainst Julia Moreton, as re- corded in another portion of this work, and their fulfilment, will, together with the events transpiring in the life of Pietro di Lodetti and his wife, snhse- Suent to their settlement in Louisiana, afford mate- ial for a continuation of the story, should the re- ception of that which is now given to the puhlic, he such as to induce the writer to venture upon a se- cond application of his pen to a sort of composition to which it has heen hitherto a stranger. He does not pretend to say that any of the personap^es of this drama are real, nor any of the events which he has recorded are true ; but he does believe that events, not wholly dissimilar, have occurred, and may occur again. He does believe that the true spirit of Jesuit-i ism has been portrayed ; and that dark, and forbid- ding, and abhorrent, as may be the picture, it but too faithfully depicts thepnoeiples and practices of an order which requires vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, only wi order to wealth, to impunity, and to sensual indu^^^ence—to the subversion of ci« vil, religious, and intellectual liberty, and to the sub- stitution of an iron oppression and a bloody super- stition. He has, in short, written his story in as strong terms as he was capable of, in order to sym- boliie that which cannot be too darkly or too strong- ly coloured, and in reference to which, after all that has or can be imagined of it, it may still be affirmed that truth is stranger than fiction. CONCLUSION. Bommary— Lessons to be gained from a right use of the narratlTe— The duty of parents— Caations to young per* sons— Connection between Popery and infidelity— Sure down&U of error and superstition— Earnest entreaty to embrace the truth. hr reviewing the foregoiof^ narrative, the reader may psoroeive some very unportant lessons. The fizBt ii^ that| when we sustain the responsible office IM imrxBIES OV A OOHVBHT. 1 \ of parentty we ahoold be very oaref al in the trainiop; and oultore of the minds of the children committed to our care. The second, that the impressionB we imbibe in the days of oar childhood ana youth, have madh to do with oar career in after-life. The third, that we shoald be very caatioua how we give ear to those who are ever ready to instil into onr minds er- roneoas and pernicious principles and tenets, which, if fostered and cherished, may, eventually, peril the safety of our never-dying souls. There are other important lessons to be gained by the careful per- asal and diligent study of this narrative ; but these, for the present, shall suffice for the purpose of a short comment. There are few parents bnt wish the temporal and eternal welfare of their offspring ; and yet, now often is it the case that, from a mistaken policy or want of proper judgment, the course they take for the at- Cainment of the object they have at heart, is the cue diametrically opposed to the accomplishment of their wishes. This has been ezem;>IMed in several in- stances in the course of this nai ' Tn. Parents, who bad a conscientious dread of tt * ^vils of Popery, yet, without seriously reflecting on the step they were taking, have placed their children in the very vortex of the evils thev most dreaded. Beware, then, I say again, parents, now you act in regard to the training and culture of those who are dear to you. But what shall I say to those who are in the morn- ing of life P— whose prospects are bright and glowing with fancied happiness in store for their future years? You have not yet began to experience the realities of life ; bat, be assured, those realities will be dark and troublesome, or bright and cheering, ac- oording as yoa commence your career in life's lour- ney. You are surrounded by temptations ; ana one false step may be productive of incalculable misery in this world, and everlasting woe in another. Store, then, your youthful n^ods with the trathi of God's irrSTEKtES OF ▲ OONVEKT. 167 word ; these will guide and direct you in the devious path whioh yuu may have to tread ; and will pre- yent you from listening, with a willing ear, to the wily •ophistry of those who would endeavour to lead you asteay from the path of rectitude and truth, into the way that ends in destruction, misery, and eternal death. The present age is peculiarly remarkable for the strenuous bzertions which the enemies of the pure and unadulterated religion of Jesus Christ are mak< ing to bring discredit upon its divine doctrines and precepts. Infidelity (and I consider the Romish superstitions as nearly assimilated to infidelity as any false system can be) is openly and unblushingly advocated m the ears of congregated thousands of our fellow-creatures. There are Jesuits^ — not be- longing to the Bomish system orly, — going about the length and breadth of our land, striving to pro- pagate their soul-destroying principles, and imbue the minds of the ignorant and unwary with error, superstition, and unbelief. But what avail P All their puny efforts will be abortive, and will recoil upon their own heads. Wlio, that have read the foregoing pages, but must shudder at the harrowing scenes and the dreadful acts therein portrayed P— And these are the conse- quences of the blind implicit faith in a system re- pugnant to the genius of Christianity. Koman Ca- tholicism, as it is believed and i)ractised in most of the monasteries and convents, is a system that is fraught with the grossest delusions, and pregnant with the most calamitous results to those who believe in its fallacious doctrines. Many who have held high places in the Catholic church, in past ages, have been tfiined with the blackest crimes ; and, even in the present day, there are dignitaries in that church, on tne continent of Europe, whose lives and conduct ais as different from the lives and conduct of the Apostles, as Ught is from darkness. I would not bo 168 UTSTBBtES OF A OONVENT. anobaritable, and denounce all who are connected with that denominatioti. There are good men to be found amongst that body ; but, taken as a whole, the great majority are designing, base, hypocritical, and toeacherous. But it is the system— religion it can scarcely be called — which 1 denounce: it is dlosely connected with infidelity, and is the source of more crime and suffering than any other system that prevails amongst mankind. ** Come out of her, then, my people, and be ye separate ; touch not the unclean thing, lest ye be defiled/' The time is approaching, when Popery, and every other false form of worsnip, shall give place to the genuine and unadulterated worship of the true and Gving Gk)d, and of his Son, Jesus Christ : — when the mists of ignorance and superstition shall be chased away by the light of the life-giving beams ol the Word of Truth. Yes, Babylon must fall ; the Mother of Harlots must be brought low ; and im- ages and crucifixes, and every other idol, shall be oast away ; and peoples and nations shall bend the knlee to Jesus, and acknowledge him Lord over all, lE>les6ed for evermore ! May all who read these pages, be instrumental, through the blessing of Al- mighty God, in hastening that glorious time, when the kingdoms of this world shall become the king- doms of GKhI, and of his Christ. PitlNTBO lOft TOE BQ0K8yiTiT.r»n>» BTTSNT* who are oonneoted | are good men to be | t, taken as a whole, , base, hypocritical, system — religion it 1 denounce: it is ^, and istbeionrce 1 any other system > <* Come out of her, rate; touch not the i Popery, and every all give place to the ibip of the true and esus Obrist : — when iperstition shall be [ife-giving beams of ylon must fall; the >ughtlow; andim- other idol, shall be lous shall bend the him Lord over all, all who read these i the blessing of Al- glorious time, when 1 become the king- ^K8BTiTfT"f-