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GhIktok of Montreal, in the Office Of the Miniater of AgricuUuro. : iuii-Ki t CONTl^NTS. CH A P'lKK I. THE STRUGGLE liEFORE THE bURRENDKR OF WOMANI V SFl F-RESPECT IN THE CONFESSIONAI,. CHAPTER II. AURICULAR CONFESSION A DEEP PIT OF PERDITION FOR THE PRIEST CHAITER III. THE CONFESSIONAL IS THE MODERN SODOM , CHAPTER IV. HOW THE VOW OF CELIBACY OF THE PRIESTS IS MADE EASY BY AURICULAR CONFESSION . CHAPTER V. THE HIGHLY EDUCATED AND REFINED WOMAN IN THE CONFESSIONAL. — WHAT BECOMES OF HER AFTER HER UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER.— HER IRREPARABLE RUIN CHAPTER \T. AURICULAR CONFESSION DESTROYS ALL THE SACRED TIES OF MARRIAGE AND HUMAN SOCIETY . CHAPTER VII. SHOULD AURICULAR CONFESSION BE TOLERATED AMONG CIVILIZED NATIONS ? TACK. 29 49 5« 73 105 . vr roxiF.xrs. C'llAI'TKR \ IIJ, I'AiiF. I'OKS Al kICl I \k COMKSS SOU I, ? 'ON riKiN'c rr.\( K i < I 1 1 1 r: "V C'lIAI'JKR I\ ■fMK IXX.MA •»! Al Nl( I I, I.Nn'OSTLKK. AK COMlssios ^ ■\LKII.|-..,Jui s <'H.\I'ri.;K X. ^"<, aiiil ;il)iiinin;il>lr lirasts, and al! tlif idnU nf ilic hoiisi' of Israel, [jDurtrayed ii|niii tin* wall ri)Uiit of them stood Jaa/aniali llu* soil of Sliapliaii, with every man his censer in his hand ; and a lliiek cloud of incense went up. 12 '1 hen said he unto me. Son of man, has! thou seen what the ancients of the house of Israel do in the daik, evjry man in the chambers of his ima|^ery ? for they say, 'Ihe Lord scclh us not ; the I-oRi) hath forsaken the earth. 13 *\ He said also unto me, Turn thee yet attain, rM/Y thou slialt sec greater abpminations that they do. 14 Then he hrou^^ht me Ut i\w door of the ^^ate of the LoK'/s house which 7t''l, •]!!) UPMAV^ necessity of speaking to i\n unmarried man on certain things, on whicli the most common laws of decency ought to have for ever sealed their lips, had almost killed them ! Not hundreds, but thousands of times I have heard from the dying lijjs of single girls, as well as of married women, the awful words : '• I am for ever lost ! All nt.y past confessions and communions have been as many sacrileges ! I have never dared to answer correctly the questions of my confessors ! Shame has scaled my lips and damned my soul ! "' \ low many times I remained as one petrified by the side of a corpse when, these last words having hardly escaped the lips of one of my female penitents, she was snatched out of my reach by the merciless hand of death, before 1 could give her pardon through the deceitful sacramental absolution ! I then believed, as the dead sinner herself believed, that she could not be forgiven except by that absolution. For there are not only thousands, but millions, of Roman Catholic girls and women whose keen sense of modesty and womanly dignity are above all the sophisms and diabolical machinations of their priests. They never can be persuaded to answer " Vcs " to certain questions of their confessors. They would i)refer to be thrown into the flames, and burnt to a^hcs with the Brahmin widows, rather than to allow the eyes of a man to pry into the sacred sanctuary of their souls. Though sometimes guilty before Ciod, and under the impression that their sins will never be forgiven if not confessed, the laws of decency are stronger in their hearts than the laws of their cruel and perfidious Church. No con- sideration, not even the fear of eternal damnation, can persuade them to declare to a sinful man sins which AM' THi; CONFI-:S.'.iONAL uF RUME. can C'Od alone Ikij. ilic li^ht lo know, for He alone ran blot tlicm out with ilic l)loocl of His Son shed on the cross. Dut what n wrctclicd hfe that of those exceptional n ^ souls, which Rome keeps in the dark dungeons of hvv supcrstiti.Mi! They read in all their books, ahd liear from all ihcir pulpits, that if they conceal a single sin from their confessors they are for ever lost ! But, being absolutely unable to trample under their feet the laws of self-resi)eci and decency which God Himself has impressed in their souls, they live in constant dread of eternal damnation. No human words can tell their desolation and distress when, at the feet of their con- fessors, they find themselves between the horrible necessity of speaking of things on which they would {.refer to suffer the most cruel death rather than to open their lips, or to be for ever (Jaumed if they do not de- grade thcmseKes for ever in their own eyes by speaking on matters whir h a respectable woman will never reveal to her own mother, much less to a man ! I have known only too many of these noble hearted women, who, when alone with God, in a real agony of desolation and with burning tears, had asked Him to grant them what they considered the greatest favour, which was to lose so much of their self-respect as to be enabled to speak of those unmentionable things just as their confe .ors wanted them to speak ; and, hopin- that their petition had been granted, thev went again to the confessional-box, determined to unveil their shame l=efore the eves of that inexorable m'an. But, when the moment had come for the sdtM-mmolation. their c ourage failed, their knees trembled, their lips became pale as rjeath. Cold sweat llowed from all their jwres ! The voice of modesty and womanly self respect was speakin ig 4 THE I'RlE.Vr, THE WOMAN', louder than Ihc voice of their false religion. They had to go out of the confessional box un[)ardoned— nay, with the burden of a new sacrilege on iheir conscience. Oh, how heavy is the yoke of Rome how Vnttcr is human life— how cheerless is the mystery of the cross to those deluded and perishing souls ! How gladly thcv would rush into the blazing piles with the Brahmin women, if they could hope to see the end of their unspeakable miseries through the momentary tortures which would open to them the gates of a better life ! I do hear publicly challenge the whole Roman (Catholic priesthood to deny tnat the greater part of their female penitents remain a certain period of time - some longer, some shorter — under that most distressing stair of mind. Yes, by far the greater majority of women, at first, find it next to impossible to pull down the sacred barriers of self-respect which God Himself has built around their hearts, intelligences, and souls, as the best safeguard against the snares of this polluted world. Those laws of self-respect, by which they cannot consent to speak an impure word into the ears of a man, and which shut all the avenues of their hearts against his unchaste questions, even when speaking in the name ot God — those laws of self-respect are so clearly written in their conscience, and they are so well understood by them to be a most Divine gift, that, as I have already said, many prefer to run the risk of being for ever lost by remaining silent. It takes many years of the most ingenious (I do not hesitate to call it diabolical) efforts on the part of the priests to persuade the majority of their female penitents AND THE CONTE>SION'AL OF ROME. lo speak on (jucstions which even jjogan savages would blush to mention among themselves. Some persist in remaining silent on those matters during the greatest part of their lives, and many prefer to throw themselves into the hands of their merciful God and die without submitting to the defiling ordeal, even after they have felt the poisonous stings of the enemy, rather than receive their pardon from a man who, as they feel, would have surely been scandalized by the recital of their human frailties. All the priests of Rome are aware of this natural disposition of their female penitents. There is not a single one — no, not a single one of their moral theologians, who does not warn the confessors against that stern and general determination of the girls and married women never to speak in the confessional on matters which may, more or less, deal with sins against the seventh commandment. Dens, Liguori, DebreyTie, Bailly, &c. — in a word, all the theologians of Rome — own that this is one of the greatest difficulties which the confessors have to contend with in the confessional-box. Not a single Roman Catholic priest will dare to deny what I say on this matter ; for they know that it would be easy for me to overwhelm them with such crowd of testimonies that their grand imposture would for ever be unmasked. I intend, some future day, If G^d spares mc and gives me time for it, to make known some of the innumerable things which the Roman Catholic theologians and moralists have written on this question. It will form one of the most curious books ever written ; and it will give an unanswerable evidence of the fact that, instinc- tively, without consulting each other, with an unanimity 6 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, which is almost marvellous, the Roman Catholic women, guided by the honest instincts which God has given them, shrink from the snares put before them in the confessional-box ; and that ever}-«-bere they stuggle to nerve themselves widi a superhuman courage against the torturer who is sent by the Pope to finish their ruin nr.d to make shipwreck of their souls. Everywhere w lan feels that there are things which ought never to be lold, as there are things which ought never to ]>e done, in the presence of the God of holiness. She understands that, to recite the history- of certain sins, even of thoughts, is not less shameful and criminal than to do them ; she hears the voice of God whispering into her ears, '' Is it not enough that thou hast been guilty once, when alone, in My presence, without adding to thine iniquity, by allowing that man to know what should never have been revealed to him ? Do you not feel that ) ou make that man your own accomplice the ver}- moment that you throw into his heart and soul the mire of your iniquities ? He is as weak as you are ; he is not less a sinner ^than yourself; what has tempted you will tempt him ; Avhat has made you weak will make him weak ? wliat has polluted you will pollute him ; what has thrown you down into the dust will throw him do\m into the dust. Is it not enough that My eyes liad to look upon your iniquities ? must my ears to^jay listen to your impure conversation witli that man ? Were that man as holy as My prophet David, may he not fall before the unchaste unveiling of the new Bathsheba ? Were he as strong as Sampson, may he not tlnd in you his tempting Delilah ? Were he as generous as Peter, may he not become a traitor at the maid-servant's voice ? " Perhaps the world has niiv,y seen a niore terrible, des- AND THK CANFE^SIOXAL OF ROME. des- perate, solemn struggle than the one whicli is going on in the soul of the poor trembling young woman, who. at the feet of that man. has to decide whether or not she will open her lips on those things which the infallible voice of God, united to the no less infallible voice of her womanly honour and self-respect, tell her never to reveal to anv man ! The histor\- of that secret, fierce, de5i>eratc, and deadly struggle has never yet, so for as I know, been fully gi\cn. It would draw the tears of admiration and compasiiion of the whole world, if it could be written with its simple, sublime, and terrible realities. How many times I have wept as a child when some noble-hearted and intelligent young girl, or some respect- able married woman, }-ielding to the sophisms with which I, or some other confessor, had persuaded them to gi\e up their self-respect, their womanly dignit}', to speak with me on matters on which a decent woman would never say a word with a raan ! They told me of their in\ incible repugnance, their horror of such questions and answers, and they asked me to have pity on them. Yes ! I often wept bitterly on my degradation when a priest ot Rome ! I felt all the strength, the grandeur, the holi- ness of their motives for being silent on *hose defiling matters. I could not but admire them. It seemed, at times, that they were speaking the Lm^oagc of angels of light ; that I ought to fall at their feet, and ask their pardon for having spoken to them of questions on whit h a man of honour ought never to converse with a woman whom he respects. But, alas! I had soon to repRMKii myself and regret these short instances of my wavering faith in the inf.il lible voice of mv Church ; I had soon to kilence the THE PRIEST, HIE WOMAN'. voice of my conscience, which was telling me, *' Is it not a shame that you, an unmarried man, dare to speak on those matters witli a woman ? Do you not blush to put such questions to a young girl ? Where is your self-respect ? where is your fear of God ? Do you not promote the ruin of that girl by forcing her to peak with a man on such questions?" I was compelled by all the Popes, the mora! theolo- gians, and the Councils of Rome, to believe that this warning voice of my merciful God was the voice of Satan ; I had to believe, in spite of my own conscience and intelligence, that it was good, nay, necessar}-, to put those polluting, damning questions. My infallible Church was mercilessly forcing me to oblige those poor, trembling, weeping, desolated girls and women to swim with me and all her priests in those waters of Sodom and Gomorrha, under the pretext that their self-will would be broken down, their fear of sin and humility increased, and that they would be purified by our absolutions . In the beginning of my priesthood, I was not a little suqjrised and embarrassed to see a very accomplished and beautiful young lady, whom I used to meet almost every week in Ivjr father's house, entering the box of my ronfessional. She used to iro to confess to another vounriest of my actjuaintance, and she was looked upon as one of the most pious girls of the city. Though she had disguised herself as much as possible, that I might not know her, I thought that I was not mistaken — she was the amiable Mary * ^ ^ * Not being absolutely sure of the correctness of my impressions, I left her entirely under the hope that she was a perfect stranger to me. At the beginning she could hardly speak ; lier voice was suffocated by her sobs j AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME and, throiigli the little apertures of the thin partition between her and me, I saw two streams of big tears trickling down her cheeks. After much ciTort, she said: "Dear Father, I hope you do not knjw me, and that you will never try to know me. I am a desperately great sinner. Oh ! I fear that i am lost I But if there is still any hope for me to be saved, lor God's sake, do not rebuke me I Before I begin my confession, allow me to ask you not to pollute my evirs by the questions which our confessors are in the habit of putting to their female penitents. I have already been destroyed by those questions. Before 1 was seventeen years old, God knows that His angels are not more pure than I was ; but the chaplain of the Nun- nery where my parents had sent me for my education, though approaching old age, put to me in the confession- al a question v»hich, at first, I did not understand ; but, unfortunate!}-, he had put the same questions to one of my young class-mates, who made fun of them in my presence, and explained them to me ; for she understood them too well. This first unchaste conversation of my life pluaged my thoughts into a sea of iniquity, till then absolutely unknown to me ; temptations of the most humiliating character assailed me for a week, day and night ; after which, sins which I would blot out with my blood, if it were possible, ovcrwhelm.ed my soul as with a deluge. But the jovs of the sinner are short. Stnick with tenor at the thought of the judgments of God, after a few weeks of the most depliirable life, I determined to give up my sins and reconcile myself to God. Covered wuli shame, and trembling frjm head to foot, I went to confess to my old confessor, whom I respected as a saint and cherished a* a C^lier. Xt -S£eW5l4ct^me ihat to THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, with sincere tears of repentance I confessed to him tlie greatest part of my sins, though I concealed one of them through shame, and respect for my spiritual guide. Ikit 1 did not conceal from him that the strange (juestions he liatl }>ut to me at my last confession were, with tlie natural corruption of my heart, the principal cause of my tlcstruction. '' Me spoke to mc very kindly, encouraged me to fight against my bad inclinations, and, at first, gave mc very kind and good advice. But when I thought he had finished speaking, and as i was i)reparing to leave the confessional-box, he put to mc two new questions of such a i)olluting character that I fear neither the blood of Christ nor all the fires of hell will ever be able to blot Ihenj out from my memory. Those questions have achieved my ruin ; they have stuck to my mind as two deadly arrows ; they are day and night before my im- agination ; they fill my very arteries and veins with a deadly poison. " It is true that, at first, they filled mc with horror and disgust ; but, alas ! I soon got so accustomed to them that they seemed to be incorporated with me, and as though becoming a second nature. Those thoughts have become a new source of innumerable criminal thoughts, desires, and actions. " A month later, we were obliged, by the rules of our convent, to go to confess ; but this time, I was so com- pletely lost that 1 no longer blushed at the idea of confessing my shameful sins to a man ; it was the very contraiy, 1 had a real, diabolical pleasure in the thought that 1 should have a long conversation with my confes- sor on those matters, and that he would ask me more of his stj ange cjuestions I AXn THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. IT '' In flict, when I had told him everything, without a blush, he hc^an to interrogate me, and God knows what corrupting things loll from liis hps into my poor criminal heart .' JCvcry one of his (Questions was thrilling mv ner\'es, and filling me with t!ic most shameful sensations. After an hour of this criminal tctc-d-tHc with mj old con- fessor (for it was nothing else but a criminal tctea-tvle), I i)erceived that he was as depraved as J was myself \\'ith some half-covered words, he made me a criminal proi)osition, whic h 1 accepted with covered words also ; and during more than a year, we have lived together in the most sinful intimacy. I'hough he was much older than r, ] loved him in the most foolish way. When the course of my convent instruction was fmished, my parents called me back to their home. I was really glad of that change of residence, for I was beginning to be tired of my criminal life. My hope was that, under the direction of a better confessor, 1 should reconcile niys(;lf to Cod and begin a Christian life. " Unfortunately for me, my ne\\' confessor, who was very young, began also his interrogations. He soon fell in love with me, and I loved him in a most criminal way. I have done with him things which J hope you will never request me (o reveal to you, for they are too monstrous to be repeated, even in the confessional, by a woman to a man. '^ I do not say these things to take away the responsi- bility of my iniquities with this ^ oung confessor from my slioulders, for i think I have been more criminal than he was. It is my firm conviction that he'was a good and holy priest before he knew me : but the questions he put to me, and the answers I hud to give him, melted td I'Ur. PRIEST, THE WOMAN, his heart — I know it -just as boih'ng lead would melt the ice on which it flows. '* 1 know lliis is not such a detailed confession as our lujy Church requires me to make, but I have thought it necessary for me to give you this short history of the life of the greatest and the most miscral)lc sinner who ever asked you to help her to come out from the tomb of her ini(]uities. This is the way I have lived these last few years. 13ut last Sabbath, God, in His infinite mercy, looked down upon me. He inspired you to giNc us the Prodigal Son as a model of true conversion, and as the most marvelous proof of the infinite compassion of the dear Saviour for the sinner. I have wept day and niglit since that happy day, when I threw myself into the arms of my loving, merciful Father. Even now I can hardly speak, because my regret for my past iniquities, and my joy that I am allowed to bathe the feet of my Saviour with my tears, are so great that my voice is as choked. " You understand that I have for ever given up my last confessor, I come to ask you the favour to receive me among your penitents. Oh ! do not reject nor re- buke me, for the dear Saviour's sake ! Be not afraid to have at your side such a monster of iniquity ! But before going farther, I have two favours to ask from you. The first is, that you will never do anything to know my name ; the second is, that you will never put me any of those questions by which so many penitents are lost and so many priests for ever destroyed. Twice I have been lost by those questions. We come to our confessors that they may throw upon our guilty souls the pure waters which flow from heaven to purify us ; and, instead of that, wHh their unjjientiQoable cjuQstioDs, they pour ■^ ^0! AND TIIF CONFRSSIONAT. oF KoMF. I| Duld melt on as our ihought it iry of the nner who the tomb ved these is infinite )u to give sion, and mpassion t day and f into the m I can niquities, et of my ice is as ti up my o receive :t nor re- afraid to ty ! But rom you. know my e any of lost and ave been Dnfessors the pure , instead ley pour oil on the burning lircs whu h .iii' .ilrc.uly ragmg in our poor sinful hL'.irts. ( )h : (Kv.r f.ithor, let nic f)ecomr your penitent, lli.it you in;iy help me tf) go and weep wUh Magdalene at the Saviour's feet ! Do respcf I nic, as He respected th.it true model of ;iil liic sinful iuit re- penting women! i)id our Saviour put to her any question ? did lie c \tott fioiu licr the history of things which a sinful vvoinan < annot say without forgetting the respect she owes to herself and to (iod? No! Vou told us, not long ago, that the only thing our Saviour did was to look at her tears and her love. Well, plear.e do that, and you will save me !" I was a very young priest, and never had any wordr, so 5ublime ( omc to my ears in the ( onfessionalbox. Her tears and her so])s, mingled with the so frank declaration of the most humiliating actions, had made upon mc such a ])rofound impression that J was, for r3omc time, unable to speak. Jt had come to my mind also that I might be mistaken about her identity, and that perhaps she was not the young lady that I had imagined. I could, then, easily grant her first rciiuest, which was to do iKjthing by whieh I could know her. 'J'he second part of her prayer was more embarrassing; for the theologians arc very positive in ordering the con- fessors to question their penitents, particularly those of the female sex, in many circumstances. J encouraged her, in the best way I could, to per- severe in her good resolutions by invoking the blessed Virgin Mary and St. Philomenc, who was then the Sai/ifc d la mode, just as Marie Alacoque is to-day, among the blind slaves of Rome. I told her that I would pray and think over the subject of her second request ; and I asked her to come back, in a week, for my answer. & I H nil' t'KIK.M, nil- WOMAN, The viry saiuo day, I wont lo my own confessor, ilic Rev. Mr. i!aillar^^.«o^, then < urate of (Jucl)C(*, and after- wards An IiMslioi) of Canada. 1 lf)ld him the sin,:;u1ar and unusual re(|ucst she liad made that I should nc\er |)Ut lo her' any of those (|uestions sug'^estcd l>y die theologians, to insure the intcjj;rity of the confession. I ilid not conrcal from him that I was nuu h im lined lo j;rant her that favour ; for I repeateut St. Liguori, as well as our personal observation, tells us that the greatest part of girls and women, through a false and criminal shame, very seldom confess the sins they commit against purity. It requires the utmost i AND niK I'oMJI.ShlON.M nl KOMI. >5 'ssor, iIk" UK I aftcr- .' sin;;! liar lid noMi- I l»y ihc- ssion. I ilincd (c) I alrcndy :lis_L,'iistc'(l Mich tlir lonls. I iosts had with the cy < oiild y elicited 2(1 about llu' next s in the ■iii.c^ liis I I Ljivr iliir Ity lie ('\il. L' al ISO- OS willi U'ir sins K'cd for ;n()i-:;M!. ^n, Iclls ouLjh a 10 sins utmosi rharity in the confessors to prevent those unfortunate slaves of their sc( ret [)asjions from making sa(rilegit)us confessions and conununions. With the greatest pru- dence and zeal, he nuist (lueslion theni on those matters, beginning with the smallest sins, and going, little by little, as much as possible by impcreei)tible degrees, to the uui^l criminal actions. As it seems evident that the penitent referred to in your (juestions of yesterday is unwilling to make a full and detailed ( onfession of all her ini<|"ities, you cannot i)romisc to absolve her without assuring yourself, by wise and prudent ciucstions, that jihc h;\s confessed everything. ■" Vou must not be discouraged when, through the confessional or any other way, you learn the fall of priests into the < omnion frailties of human nature with their [)eniients. Our Saviour knew very well that the occasions and the temptations we have to cncoimtcr, in the confessions of girls and women, arc so numerous, and sometimes so irrepressible, that many would fall. r>ul He has given them the Holy Virgin Mary, who con- stantly asks and obtains their pardon; He has given them the sacrament of. penance, where they can receive their [lardon as often as they ask for it. The vow of perfect (hastily is a great honour and privilege ; but we cannot conceal from ourselves that it puts on our shoulders n burden which many cannot carry for ever. St. Liguori says that we must not rebuke the penitent priest who falls only once a month; and some other, trustworthy theologians arc still more charitable." This answer was far from satisfying mc. It seemed to me composed of soft-soap principles. I went back with a heavy heart and an anxious mind ; and God knows that I made many fervent prayers that this girl i6. IHE PRliEST, lano, some of our beautiful Church hymns. '\V'ho could .see h.T witliout ainiosl worshipping her? The dignity of her steps, .nui lier whole mien, when she advanced towards my confessional, entirely betrayed her nnd destroyed her incognito. Oh! I would liave gi'\en every drop of my blood, in that solemn hour, that 1 migiit have been free to de'al itory. I life. It \)S to my words of hirh she and my [cr tears ifsionr, of t against the con fid. My e in the n, Mary ■ ro!)cr. in Icssional, ;n, I saw rectly to Though ised her 1 not \)v :, lady in sant and reathless iving us, 1 Church shipping ic rnicn, entirely )lood, in to dc'aJ H \«'th her just as she had so eloquently requested mc tc do~to let her weep and cry at the feet of Jesus to her heart's content \ Oh ! if I had been fic- tn take her by the hand, and silently show her her dyin.; oaviour, that she might have bathed His feet with her tears,' and spread the oil of Iier love on His head, without my say% ing anything else but "Go in peace: thy sins are lorgiven ! "' But there, in that confess-onal-box, I was not the servant of Christ, to follow His divine, sa\ ing words, and obey the dictates of my honest conscience. I was the slave of the Pope ! I had to stitle the cry of my con- science, to ignore the inspirations of my God ! There, my conscience had no right to speak ; my intelligence was a dead thing 1 The theologians o( the Pope, alone, had cl right to be heard and obeyed : I was not there to save, but to destroy ; for, under the pretext of purify- mg, the real mission of the confessor, often in spite of hnnself, is to scandalize and damn the souls As soon ..s the young man, who was making his con- fession at njy left hand, had finished, J, without noise, turned myself towards her, and said, through the little aperture, " Ar; you ready to begin your confession ?"' But she did r.ot answer mc. All that I could hear was, " Oh, my Jesus, have mercy upon me ! Dear .Saviour, hero I am with all my sins ; do not reject me ! I come to wash my soul in Thy blood ; wilt Thou rebuke me ?" During several minutes, she raised her hands and her eyes to heaven, and wept and prayed. It was evident that she had not the least idea that I was observing her ; slie thought the door of the little partition between her and mc was shut. But my eyes were fixed ni)on her; my i8 IIIF. I!;!1SI, nil- WU.MA-V, tears were flowing with licr tear;;, ;nid my nrdent prayers were going to the feet c'f Jesus with lier prayers. I would not have inte'.rupled her, for any consideration, in this her iiublimc communion with her merciful Saviour, But, after a pretty long time, X made a little noise with my hand, and, putting my lips noar the opening of the partition whi( h was between us, I said, in a low voice. •' Dear sister, arc you ready to begin your <'onfession ?'' vShc turned her face a little towards me, and said, with a trembling voice, " Yes, dear Father, 1 am ready." T^ut slie then stoi)ped again to weep and pray, though I could not hear what she said. After some lime of silent piaycr, I said, '* My dear sister, if you are ready, jilease begin your confession."' She then said, " My dear Father, do you rcmeuiber the prayers whicli T made to you, the other day ? Can you allow me to confess my sins without forcing me to forget the respect I owe to myself, to you, and to (led, wlio hears us ? And can you promise that you will not jiut to me any of those ciucstions which have already done me such irreparable injury ? I frankly declare to you that there arc sins in me that I cannot reveal to any man, except to Christ, because He is my God, and that He already knows them all. Let me weep and cry at His feet, and do forgive me without adding to my iniqui- ties by forcing me to say things that the tongue of a Christian woman cannot reveal to a man !" '' My dear sister," I answered, " were I free to follow the voice of my own feeHngs I would be too happy to grant you your request ; but I am here only as the minister of our holy Church, and bound to obey her laws. Through her most holy popes and theologians, ■ i AND THE C0XFE.S.>IONAD OF ROME. 19 •She tells mo that 1 -day. '-for,- she said, " I have only a few more davs to live Help mc to prepare myself for the solemn hour which will open to mc the gates of eternity ! " ?0 ifft: pRiE^i. THE nvoma:;, J, very da\ I visited htr, and 1 prayed aiid I wept Avith lier. Many liraes. with teurir, I requested lier, when alone, to finish her i onfession; but. witli a firmness which then seemed to nic niysteriotii and inexplicable, she poUtely rebuked me. One day when, aloae isrith her, I was kneeling by the bide of hex bed to pray. I was unable to articulate a single word, l^cause ol' the inexpressible anguish of my soul on Iv.-v .-.ccoiint : ihc asked me, " Dear Father, why do you weep ?" 1 iinswered. " How can you j)Ut such a c[uestion to your murderer ? I wetp t>tcause I have killed you, dear liiend." This i'.nswer seemed lo trouble her exceedingly. She was very weak diat day. .\i'ier she had wept and prayed in silence, slic .-aid. " Do r.ol weep i'or me, but weep ibr so many priests who destroy their penitents in the confessional. I believe In ilie holiness of the sacrament of jienitence, >ince cur holy Church has established it. But there is. somewher-v;. something exceedingly wrong in the «. oniessional. Twice I have been destroyed, and 1 know many girls who have also been destroyed by the confessioiuil. This is a secret, but will that secret be kept for e\ cr ? I pity the poor priests the day that our lathers will know what becomes of the purity of their daughters in the hands of their confessors. Father would surely kill my two last confessors, if he could know how they have destroyed his jxx)! child." I could not answer except by weeping, \\'e remained mate for a long time ; then she said, " it is true that I was not prepared for the rebuke you have ^\en me, but you acted conscientiously as a good '4 J AND THE COXrtSSIOJIAL OF ROME. 21 and honest priest. I kno^ you must be bound by cer tain laws." She then pressed my hand with her cold hand and said, "Weep not, dear Father, because that sudden storm has wrecked my too fragile bark. This storr.i was to take rne out from the bottomless sea of my iniquities to the hore where Jesus was waiting to receive and pardon me. j"he night after you brought me, lialf dead, here to father's house, I had a dream. Oh, no, it was not a dream, it was a reality. My Jesus came to me ; He was bleeding. His crown of thonis was on His head, the heavy cross was bruising His shoulders. He said to me, with a voice so sweet that no human tongue caa imitate it, " 1 have seen thy tears. I have heard thy cries, and I know thy love for Me : thy sins are forgiven. Take couracre : in a few davs thou skalt be with Me I ' " She had hardly tlnished her last word when she fainted, and I feared lest she should die just then when I was alone with her. I called the family, who rvaSbttd into the room. The doctor was sent for. He found her so weak that he thought proper to allow only one or two persons to remain in the room. He requested us not to speak at all, " For," said he, " the least emotion may kill her in- stantly ; her disease is, in all probabilit}', an aneurism of the aorta, the big vein which brin^ the blood to the heart ; when it breaks she will go as quick as lightning." It was nearly ten at night when I left the house, to go and take some rest. But it is not necessary to say that I passed a sleepless night My dear Mar}- was there, pale, dying from the deadly \Aarx which I had given her in the confessional. She wa3 there, on her bed of death, her heart pierced v.iih the tlag^er which niy Church hjid Hi. di THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN', put into my hands ! And instead of rebuKilrig, cursing me for my sa.vagc, merciless fanaticism, she was blessing me ! She was dying from a broken heart, and I was not allowed by my Church to give her a single word of con- solation and hope, for she had not yet made her confes- sion I I had mercilessly bruised that tender plant, nnd there was nothing in my hands to heal the wounds I l:A made! It was very probable that she would die the next day, and I was forbidden to show her the cro\\Ti of dorv which Jesus has prepared in His kingdom for the re- penting sinner ! My desolation was really unspeakable, and I think I would have been suffocated, and have died that night, if t\\e stream of tears which constantly flowed from my eyes liad not been as a balm to my distressed heart. How dark and long the-hour$ of that night seemed to mc I Before the dawn of day I arose, to read my theologians again, and see if I could not find some one who would allow me to forgive the sins of that dear child without forcing her to tell mc everything she had done. But they seemed to me nuire than ever unanimously inexor- able, and I put them back on the shelves of my library with a broken heart. At nine a.m. the next day I was by the bed of our dear sick Marv. I cannot sufficientlv tell the jov I felt when the doctor and the whole family said to me, " She is much better ; the rest of last ,night has wrou^jht a marvelous change indeed." With a really angelic smile she extended her hand to- wards me, that I might press it in mine ; and she said, " L thought^ Ic^st evening^u that the dear Saviour would AND THE CONFr?>IOXAI. OF ROME -3 take me to Him, but He wants me, dear Father, to give you a little more trouble ; but be patient, it cannof be long before the solemn hour of the appeal will ring. ^VilI you please read me the histor}' of the sufferings and death of the beloved Saviour which you read me tlic other day? It does me so much good to see how He has loved me, such a miserable sinner." There v.'os a calm and a solemniiv In her words whicii struck me singularly, as well as all tliose who were there. After I had finished reading, she exclaimed, '* He has loved me so much that He died for mv sins ! "' And she shut her eyes as if to meditate in silence, but tliere was a stream of big tears rolling down her cheeks. I knelt down by her bed with her family to pray, but 1 could not utter a single word. Tiie idea that tliis dear child was there, dung from the cruel fanaticism of my theologians and my own cowardice in obeying them, was as a mill-stone to my neek. It was killing me. Oh I if by d>-ing a thousand times I could have added a single day to her life, with what pleasure I would have accepted those thousand deaths I After we had silently prayed and wept by her bed-side, she requested her mother to leave her alone with me. When I saw myself alone, under the irresistible im- pression that this was her last day. I fell on my knees again, and with tears of the most sincere compas.sion for her soul, I requested her to shake ofT her shame and t<) obey our holy Church, which requires every one to con- fess their sins if they want to be forgiven* She calmly, but with an air of dignity which no human words can express, said, " Is it true that, after the sin Qf Adam ^n^J live, Gqother's iivikedness ? " " Yes," I said, " this is what the Holy Scriptures tell us." *' Well, then, how is it possible that our confessors dare to take away from us that holy, divine coat of modesty and self-respect? Has not Almighty CI. 'J Himself made with His own hands that coat of womanly modesty and self-respect that we might not be to you and to ourselves a cause of shame and sin ? " I was really stunned by the beauty, simplicity, and sublimity of that comparison. I remained absolutely mute and confounded. Though it was demolishing all the traditions and doctrines of my Church, and pulveriz- ing all my holy doctors and theologians, that noble answer found such an echo in my soul that it seemed to me a sacrilege to try to touch it with my finger. After a short time of silence, she continued, " Twice I have been destroyed by priests in the confessional. They took away from me that divine coat of modesty and self-respect which God gives to every human being who comes into this world, and twice I have become for those very priests a deep pit of perdition, into which they have fallen, and where, I fear, they are for ever lost ! My merciful Heavenly Father has given me back that coat of skins, that nuptial robe of modesty, self- respect, and holiness, which had been taken away from me. He cannot allow you, or any other man, to tear again and spoil that vestment which is the work of Plis hands." These words had exhatusted'lier ; it was evident to me that she wanted some rest. I left her alone, but I Was absolutely i)e.side myself. ■■-■ Filled with admiration AND THK CONFESSIONAL OF ROMF. 9$ for tlic sublime lessons \vhi( h I had received from the lips of llut angel, who, it was evident, was soon to fly away from us, I felt a supreme disgust for myself, my theologians, and- -shall I say it? yes— I felt, in that solemn hour, a supreme disgust for my Church, which was so cruelly defiling me and all the priests, in the con- fesHional-l)ox. I felt in that hour a supreme horror for that auricular confession, which is so often such a pit of perdition and sui)reme misery for the confessor and the penitent. I went out, walked two hours on the Plains of Abraham, to breathe the pure and refreshing air of. the mountain. There alone I sat on a stone, on the very spot where Wolf and Montcalm had fought and died, and wept to my heart's content on my irreparable degradation, and the 'degradation of all the priests through the confessional. At four o'clock in the afternoon I w^ent back again to the house of my dear dying Mary. 'J'':e mother took me apart, and very politely said, "My dear Mr. Chiniquy, do you not think tkat it Is time that our dear child should receive the last sacraments ? She seemed to 1)0 much better this morning, and we were full of hope ; but she is now rapidly sinking. Plevise lose no time in giving her the holy viaticum and the extreme unction."' I said, "■ Yes, Madam ; let me pass a few minutes alone with our jjoor dear child, that 1 may prepare her Ibr the last sacraments." When alone with her, I again fell on my knees, and, aiiiiilst torrents of tears, I said, "Dear sister, it is my desire to give you the holy viaticum and the extreme unction; but tell me, how can [ dare to do a thing so solemn against all the prohibitions of our holy Cluux h ? Nil 26 THE PRIF.ST, THE WOMAN, I . . ITow can I give you tlie lioly communion without first giving you absolution ? and how can I give you absolu- tion when you earnestly persist in telling me that you have committed sins which you will never declare either to me or any other confessor ? " You know that I clierisli and respect you as if you Were an angel sent to mc from heaven. \'ou told me the other day that you blessed the day tlial you first saw and knew me. I .say the .same thing. J Mess the day that I have known you; I bless cver\' hour that 1 Iia.ve ]jassedby your bed of suffering ; I bless every tear which 1 have shed with you on your sins and on my own ; 1 bless every hour that we have passed together in looking to the wounds of our beloved, dying Saviour ; I bless you for having forgiven me your death I for 1 know it, and I confess it a thousand times in tlie presence of God, I have killed you, dear sister. But now I prefer a thou- sand times to die than to say to you a word which would pain you in any way, or trouble the peace of your soul. Please, my dear sister, tell me what I can and must do for you in this solemn hour." Calmly, and with a smile of joy, such as I had never seen before, nor have seen since, she said, " I thank and bless you, dear father, for the i)arable of the Prodigal Son, on uliicli you preached a montli ago. You have brouglu me to the feet of the derir Saviour ; there, I have found a peace and a joy which surpass anything which human heart can feel ; I have thrown myself into the arms of my heavenly Father, and I know He has merci- fully accepted and forgiven Plis poor prodigal child I Oh, I see the angels with their golden harps around the throne of the Lamb I Do you not hear the celestial harmony of ■^ AM) IIIK (•(iXrF.SSIOXAr, OF ROMF.. n lliclr songs ? I <;o — I 1,^0 to j(jln tlK-ni in my Father's house. I shall not be lost ! " While she was thus speaking to me, my eyes were really turned into two fountains of tears, and I was una- ble, as wdl as unwillin;^, to sec anything, so entircl\ overcome was 1 by the sublime v/ords which were il.)w- ing from the dying lips of that dear child, who was no more a sinner, but a real angel of Heaven to mc. 1 was listening to her words ; there was a celestial music in every one of them. IJut she had raised her voice in such a strange way, when she had begun to say, "f go to mv Father's house," and she had made such a cry of joy v,!n-n she had let the last words, *' not be lost," escaj)e h^r lips, that I raised my head and ojiened my eyes to luol at her. 1 suspected that something strange had occurred. J got upon my feet, passed my handkerchief over my face, to wipe away the tears which were p-reventlng mc from seeing with accuracy, and looked at her. Her liands were crossed on her breast, and tlicro was on her face the expression of a really superhuman joy ; her l)eautiful eyes were fixed as if they were looking on some grand and sublime si)ectacle ; it seemed Most ' mean?"— for her last words, "not be lost," |)arti cularly the last one, had l)een pronounced with such a powerful voice that they had been heard almost every- where in the house, I made a sign with my hand to prevent the distressed mother from making any noise, and troubling her dying child in her prayer, for 1 really thought that she had stop])ed speaking, as she used i}o often to do, when Nil [m » m 28 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, alone with me, in order to pray. But I was mistaken. That redeemed soul liad gone, on the golden wings of love, to join the multitudes of those who have washed their robes in ■Uiaiilpod^f^hO' Lamb, to sii^i? tb& €ler- nal Aliqluia. AND TilE CONFESSIONAL OF KOME. 29 CHAPTER II. AURICULAR CONFESblON A DEEP PIT OF PERDITION FOR THE PRIEST. It was some time after our Mary had been buried. The terrible and mysterious cause of her death was know only to God and to me. Thougli her loving mother was still weeping over her grave, she had soon been forgotten, as usual, by the greatest part of those who had known her ; but she was constantly present to my mind. I never entered the confessional-bo.\ without hearing her solemn, though so mild, voice telling me, ••There must be somewhere something wrong in the auricular confession. Twice I have been destroyed by my confessors ; and I have known several others wiio have been destroyed in the same way." More than once, when her voice was ringing in my ears from her tomb, I had shed bitter tears on the pro- found and unfathomable degradation into which I, with the other priests, had to fall in the confessional-box. For many, many times, stories as deplorable as that of this unfortunate girl were confessed to me by city as well as country females. One night I was awakened by the rumbling noise of thunder, when I heard some one knocking at the door. I hastened out of bed to ask who was there. The answer was that the Rev. Mr. , was dying, and that .j-,--.T. tiefore God. I cannot answer yor.r (juestion in any way ; j)lease, then, excuse me if I c:i,r.not say any more on that subject : but tell me who eau have assured you that she died the death of A reprobate." •* It was her own mother,"' answered the dying man. '" biie cauic. last week, to visit me, and when she was aione with me, with many tears and cries, she said how her jjoor child had refused to receive the la.st sacraments, and how her last cry was, ' I am lost ! " She added that that cry, ' Lost ! ' was pronounced with such a friglitful power tliat it was heard through all the house." •' If her molhcr ]'.;"!s told you that,"' I replied, "you may AND THE CONFEbSlON'AL OF ROME 31 believe what you please about the way that poor child died, I cannot say a word— you know it— about that matter.' " But if bhe is lost," rejoined the old, dying i»rie.^t. •' I am the miserable one who has destroyed her. She was an angel of purity when she came to the convent. Uh '. dear Mary, if )0U are lost, I am a tiiousandfold more lost ! Oh, my God, my God ! what will b-ecomc of me ? I am dying ; and I am lost ! ' It was indeed an awful thing to see that old sinner tearing his own hands, rolling on his bed as if he had been on burning coals, with all the marks of the most frightful despair on his iacc, crying, " I am ^ost ! Oh, my God, I am lost !" I was glad that the daps of thunder, which were shaking the house and roaring without ceasing, prevented the i^eoplc outside the room from hearing those cries of desolation from that pricj^t, whom every one considered a great saint, Wlien it seemed to me that his terror had somewhat subsided, and that his mind was calmed a little, I said to him, "^^y dear friend, you must not give yourself up to such despair. Our mercifu] Gc ' has prom ised to for- give the repenting sinner v,: c>,lv2s to Him, even at the last hour of the day. A ''vcss yourself to the Virgin Mar}-, she will ask and obt^.in /our pardon." " Do you not think that t is too late to ask pardon ? The doctor has honestly warned me that death is very near, and I feel I am just now dying ! Is it not too late to ask and obtain pardon ? " asked tiie dying priest. "No, my dear sir, ft is not too late, if you since rei) regret your sins. Throw yourself into the arr.i.; of Jcnw, 32 liifc I'KlEbT, THE WOMAN, Mary, and Joseph; make your confebsion without any more delay, and you will be saved." '' But I have never made a good confession. Will ycu help me to make a general one ? " It was my duty to grant him his request, and the rest of the night was spent by me in hearing the confessioii of his whole life. I do not want to give many particulars of the life of that priest. I will only mention two things. First : It was then that I understood why poor young Mary was absolutely unwilling to mention the iniquities which she had done with him. They were simply surpassingly horrible— unmentionable. No human tongue can ex- press them—few human cars would consent to hear them. The second thing that 1 am bound in conscience to reveal is almost incredible, but it is nevertheless true. The number of married and unmarried females he had lieard in tlic confessional was about 1500, of which he said he had destroyed or scandalized at least 1000 by his questioning them on most depraving things, for the simple pleasure of gratifying his own corrupted heart, without letting them know anything of liis sinful thotights and criminal desires towards them. But he confessed t«(iat he had destroyed the purity of ninety-five of those penitents, who had consented to sin with hini. And would to God that this priest had been the only one whom I have known to be lost through the auricular confession ! But, alas ! how few are those who have escaped the snares of the tempter compared with those who have perished ! I have lieard the confessions of more than 200 priests, and, to say the truth, as God knows it, I must dcclnrc that only twenty-one had not to A^.D THE CONl-LSisIONAL oF RO-MC. 33 weep over the secret ur [)ublic sins committed through the irresistibly corrupting inlluences of auricular confes- bion ! I am sixty six years old ; in a short time I shall be in my grave. I shall have to give an account of what I say to-day. Well, it is in the presence of my great Judge, with my tomb before my eyes, that I declare to the world that very lew— yes, very few — priests escape from falling into the pit of the most horrible moral depravity the world has ever known, through the confession of females. I do not say this because I have any bad feelings against those priests : God knows that I have none. The only feelings I have are of supreme compassion and pity. I do not reveal these awful things to make the world believe that the priests of Rome are a worse set of men than the rest of the innumerable fallen children of Adam. No, I do not entertain any such views ; for, everything considered and weighed in the balance of religion, charit} , and common sense — I think that the priests of Rome are far from being worse than any other set of men who would be thrown into t!ie sa:"ne tempta- tion.v 1. '^'crs and unavoidable occasions of sin. F'';. ii. t ..ce, let us take Liwyers, mcrua^iC-. or -..r::. ..%, ai. u. '.rs "eniing ihcm from living v.ith their lawful v/ives, let us t . , ")und each of them from morning to night by ten, twenty, i.nd sometimes more, beautilul women and tempt- ing girls, who would speak to them of things which can pulvcvii^e a rock of Scotch granite, and you will sec hoiv many of those lawyers, merchants or farmers will go out of that terrible moral battle-field without being mortally wounded. Tho cause of the supreme — I dare say incredible, tl.^agh iinsuspccted — inunorality of the priests of Rome Xl«. r ^ ^! I' WStii •^m 34 THE PRIEST, THE WOMA.V, is a very .evident and logical one. By the diabolical power of the Pope, the priest is put out of the ways which God has offered to the gencrahty of men to be lionest, upright, and holy.* .Vnd after the Pope has deprived them of the grand, hoiy, I say Divine (in this sense that it comes directly from God) remedy which God has given to man against his o\^-n concupiscence—^ Jioly marriage, they are placed un]jrotected, unguarded in the most perilous, difficuk, irresistible moral dangers which human in^ .luit}* or depravity can conceive. Those unmarried r' fofced to be, from morning to night, in the midst . ." '^eautiftil girls, and tempting, charming women, who have to tell tJiem things which would melt the hardest steeL How can you expert ;liat they will cease to be men. and become stronger than angels ? Not only are the priests of Rome deprived by the devil of the o;i/y remedy which God has given to help them to stand up, but they have, in the confessional, the greatest facility which can possibly be imagined for satisfying all the bad propensities of fallen human nature. In the confessional l/uy knjii.' those who are strong, and they know those who are weak among the females by whom they are surrounded : they know who would re- sist any attempt from the enemy : and they know who are ready — nay, who are longing after the deceitful charms of sin. If they still retain the fallen nature of man, what a terrible hour for them ! what frightful battles inside the poor heart ! \\'hat superhuman efforts and strength would be re*iuired to come out a conijucror * ** To avoul fornication, let even' num have hb own wife, an 1 let every woman have her ow» husband. " (i Cor. vii. 2.) «■ AND THE Cu>-f E5SIO.VAL OF LOME. 35 from tint battle field, wh'^re a David, a. Sam.von, nave f:.llen, mortally wounded ! It is simply an act of supreme snipidin- on the part o( the Trotestant, as well as Catholic public, Vj suppose, ct suspect, or hope, that the generality of the prie.^tr. ran rtand that trial. The pages of the histor>' of Rome her- s^elf are filled with the unansnrerabie proofs that the fTcat gcjicrality of the contessors fall If it were not so, the miracle of Joshua, stopping the mardi of the sun r.nd the moon, would be a childish play compared with the miracle which would stop and reverse all the laws of our common fliUen nature in the hearts of the ico,ooo Roman Catholic confessors of the Chun h of Rome. Were I attempting to prove by public £ai t.s wjiat I know of the horrible dep-avity caused by the confessionnl-box among tiie priests of France, Canada, ."^juin, Italy, Kngland, I should have to write many big volumes in folio. For brevity's sake, I will speak only of Italy. I take that countrv because, bein^r under the verv eves of their inf^illible and most holy (?) Pontiff, being in the kind of daily miracles, of painted Madonnas, who weep .md turn their eyes lett and right, up and down, in a most marvellous way, being in the land of miraculous medn's and heavenly spiritual favors, constantly flowing from the chair of St. Peter, the confessors in Italy are in the best possible circumstances to be strong, faithful, and holy. Well, let us hear an eye--!iritne5!;. a contemporary, an unimpeachable witness about the way the confessors deal with their penitent: females, in the only holy, ajjos- tolical, infallible i^) Church of Rome. The v.itness we will hear Is, of the purest Mood of the princes of Italy. Her name is Henr'eLta Carracciolo, fi-,:T.Thffr^r of the Marshal Carr^'-^''*'-^- (^'rov^mnr of the 36 IHE PRIEST, THF WOMAN', Pro\ince of Bari, in Italy. Let ih; hear what she says of the Father Confessors, after i\Menty years of personal ex- perience in different nunneries of Italy, in her remark able book, " Mysteries of the Neapolitan Convents," pp. 150, 151, 152 : " My confessor came the following day, and I disclosed to him the nature of the troubles which beset me. Later in the day, seeing that I had gone down to the place where we used to receive the holy communion, called Communichino, the conversa of my aunt rang the bell for the priest to come with the pyx.* He was a man of about fifty years of age, ver)- corpu- lent, with aru^*' md face, and a type of physiognomy as vulgar as it was repulsive. " I approach. * 1 th< !!de window to receive the sacred wafer on my tongue, with my eyes closed, as" it is custo- mary. I placed it upon my tongue ; and, as I drew back^ I felt my cheeks caressed. I opened my eyes, but the priest had withdrawn his hand, and, thinking I had been deceived, I gave it no more attention. '• On the next occasion, forgetful of what had occurred before, I received the sacrament with closed eyes again, according to precept. This time I distinctly felt my chin caressed again ; and on ojjening my eyes suddenly, I found the priest gazing rudely upon me, v,ith a sen bual smile on his face. "There could be no longer anv doubt : these over- tares were not the result of accident. "The daughter of E\e is endowed with a greater degree of curiosity than man. It occured to me to place myself in a contiguous apartment, where I could observe * A silver box containing consecrated bread, which is believed to be the real botly, blood, and divinity of Jesus Christ. AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME 37 if this libertine priest was accustomed to take similar liberties with the nuns. I did so, and was fully con- vinced that only the old Itft him without being caressed ! '*' All the others allowed him to do with them as he plt?ased : and even, in taking leave of him, did so with the utmost reverence. " • Is this the respect,' said I to myself, ' that Vac priests and the spouses of Christ have for the sacrament of the Eucharist ? Shall the poor novice be cnticeU to leave the world in order to leam, in this sc'iool, such lessons of self-respect and chastity ? ' '' Page 163, we read, " The fanatical i)assion of the nuns for their confessors, priests, and monks, exceeds belief. That which especially renders their incarceration en- durable is the illimitable opportunity they enjoy of seeing and corresponding with those persons with whom they are in love. This freedom localizes and identifies them with the convent so closely that they are unhappy when, on account of any serious sickness, or .while pre- })aring to take the veil, they are obliged to pass some months in the bosom of their own families, in company with tlieir fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters. It is not to be presumed that these relatives would jjomiit a young girl to pass many liours each day in a mysterious colloquy with a priest, or a monk, and maintain v.ith him this continual correspondence. This is a liberty which they can enjoy in the convent only. '* Many are the hours which tiie Heloise sjicnds in the confessional, in agreeable pastime with her Abclard in cassock. '• Others, whose confessors happen to be old. ha\ e in addition a spiritual director, with whom they amuse themselves a long tiir.c even' day, tiU-a-tctc, in the I- « r5 » ■H ■HMl 38 THF. I'Kir.sr, I iir \voMA>r, parlatorio. ^\'hc\\ this is not cnoll.^'h, they siimilate an illness, in order to have him alone in tluir own rooms." Paf^e t66, \vc read: -''Another nun, l^ein'j somewhat infirm, her priest confessed her in her own room. After a time, the invalid i)enitcnt found herself in what is called an interestiuLf situation, on whi( li account, the physician declaring that her comi)laint was (h'opsy, .she was s..'nt away from the convent.'' Page 167 : -" A youmi; cducanda was in the habit of going down e\ery night to the convent burial-place, where, by a corridor which communicated .vith the vestry, she entered into a collo(]uy with a young priest attached to the church. Consumed by an amorous impatience, she was not deterred from these excursions either by bad weather or tlie fear of ])eing discovered. " She heard a great noise one night near her. In the thick darkrk:ss which surrounded her, she imagined that she saw a viper winding itself around her feet. She was so much (nercome by fright that she died from the effects of it a few months later."' Page 16S :— " One of tlie confessors had a young ])enilent in the convent. I'very time he was called to visit a dying sister, and on that account passed the night in the convent, this nun would climb over the partition which separated lier room from his, and betake herself to the master and director of souls. " Another, during the delirium of a (yi)hoid fever, from which she was suffering, was constantly imitating the action of sending kisses to her confessor, who stood by the side of her bed. He, covered with blushes on account of the presence of strangers, held a crucifix be- fore the eyes of tlie penitent, and in a commiserating lone exclaimed; — AND Till-: CONi EbSlONAL oF ROME, 39 \ > " " ' Poor thing I kiss Ihy own spouse Page f 68 :—" Under the bonds of secrecy, an cdii- canda, of awq form and pleasing manners, and of a noble fnmil/, confided to me the fact of her having re- ceived, from the hands of her confessor, a very interest- ing*book (as she described it), which related to the monastic life. 1 expressed the wish to knov.^ the title, and she, before showing it to me, took the precaution to lock the door. '' It proved to be the Monaca, by Dalembert, a book, as all know, filled with the most disgusting obscenity." Page 169 : " 1 received once from a n\onk, a letter in which he signified to me that he had hardly seen me when ' he conceived the sweet hope of becoming my confessor.' An exquisite of the first water, a fop of scents and euphuism, could not have employed phrases more melodraUiic, to demand whether he might hopii or despair." Page 169 :--'' A priest who enjoyed the reputation of being an incorruptible sacerdote, when he saw me pass through the parlatorio, used to address me as follows :~ '' ' Ps, dear, come here I Ps, Ps, come here ! ' ''' These words, addressed to me by a priest, were nauseous in the extreme. " Finally, another priest, the most annoying of all lor his obstinate assiduity, sought to secure my affections at all cost. There was not an image profane poetry could afford him, nor a sophism he could borrow from rhetoric, nor Avily interpretation he could give to the Word of God, which he did not employ to convert me to his wishes. Here is an example of his logic : — " * Fair daughter,' said he to me one day, ' knowest thou who God truly is ? ' ! * m ** »i 40 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, " ' He is the Creator of the Universe,' I answered drily. " 'No, — no, — no, — no ! that is not enougli,' he repHcd, laughing at my ignorance. * God is love, l)ut love in tlie abstract, which receives its incarnation in the mutual affection of two hcai which idolize each otlier. You, then, must not only love God in His abstract cxistant c, but must also love Plim in His incarnation, that is, in the exclusive love of a man who adores }0U. Quod Dens est amor, nee eolitur, nisi amando.^ " * Then,' I replied, * a woman who adores her own lover would adore Divinity itself? ' " ' Assuredly,' reiterated the priest over xmd over again, taking courage from my remark, and chuckling at what seemed to him to be the effect of his catechism. " ' In that case,' said I hastily, ' I should select for my lover rather a man of the world than a priest.' " ' God preserve yon, my daughter ! God preserve you from that sin ! ' added my interlocutor, apparently frightened. ' To love a man of the world, a sinner, a wretch, an unbeliever, an infidel ! Why, you would go immediately to hell. The love of a priest is a sacred love, while that of a ])rolane man is inflimy ; the faith of a priest emanates from that granted to the holy Church, while that of the profane Is false, — false as the vanity of the world. The priest purifies his affections daily in communion with the Holy Si)irlt : the man of the world (If he ever knows love at all) .sweeps the muddy crossings of the street with It day and night. " ' But it is the licart, as well as the conscience, which prompts me to fly from the priests,' I replied. " ' Well, if you cannot love me because I am your confessor, I will find means to assist you to get rid of AND Tiir. roNiESsinxAr, of rome. 4« your scruples. Wc will place the name of Jesus Christ hcfore all our affectionate demonstration, and thus our love will be a grateful offering to the Lord, and will ascend fragrant with i)erfuine to Heaven, like the smoke of the incense of the sanctuary. Say to me, for examjjle, " I love you in Jesus Christ ; last night I dreamed of you in Jesus Christ;" and you will have a tramiu:! conscience, because in doing this you will .sanctify every transport of your love.' "Several circumstances not indicated here, by the way, comi)elled me to come in freciuent contact with this priest afterwards, and I do not therefore give his name. "Of a very respectable monk, respectable alike k)v his age and his moral character, I inquired what signified the prefixing the name of Jesus Christ to amorous apostrophes. " ' It is,' he said, ' an expression used by a horrible sect, and one unfortunately only too numerous, which, thus abusing the name of our Lord, permits to its menv bers the most unbridled licentiousness.' "' And il is my sad duty to say, before the wliole world, that I know that by far the greater part of the confessors in America, Spain, France and Bigland, reason and act just like that licentious Italian priest. Christian nations ! if you could know wluiL will become of the virtue of your fair daughtcrj if you allow secret or i)ul)lic slaves of Ronio lo restore the auricuhir confession, with what a storm o^ holy indignation you would defeat their plans ! meaa 42 I HI I'KIKbT, lUi: WOMAN, CHAPTER III. THE CONFF.I^RIONAI, IR TTIF. MODERN SOOOM. If any one wants to hear an eloquent oration, let him {.';o when the Roman Catholic ])riest is preaching on the di\ine institution of auricular confession. 'I'here is no f;ul)jc( t, perhaps, on which the priests display so uuk li i:eal and earnestness, and of which they speak so often, i'or this institution is really the corner-stone of their stupendous jjower ; it is the secret of their almost rrosistilile iniluence. f.et the people to-day open their eyes to the truth, and understand that auricular confes- sion is one of the most stujjcndous imjtostures which Satan h.is invented to corrupt and enslave the world ; let the ])Cople desert tlie confessional-box to-day, and to- morrow Romanism will fall into the dust. The ])riests understand this very well ; hence their constant effort:! to decei\e the people on diat question. To attain their object, tlicy have recourse to the most egregious false. I'loods ; the Scriptures are misrepresented ', the holy latlicrs are brought to say the very contrary of what they have ever thought or written ; the most extraordi- nary miracles and stories are invented. But two of the nrgumenls to which they have more often recourse are tlie great and perpetual miracles which God makes to keep the purity of the confessional undefiled, and its AND THE rONFF.PSIONAI, OF F.OMF. 43 It SWrets marvellously sealed. 'I'hey make tiic pcojtle believe that tlie vow of perpetual chastity « hani^es their nature, lurjis them into angels, and puts them above the < ommon frailties of the fallen ( hildreii of Adam. l»ravely aud with a hra/en fare, when they ari' iiUii rogated on that suhjei t, they say that they have spe( ial ^ffaees to remain pure and imdefiied in the midst of the ;^reatest dangers ; that the X'irgin Mary, to whom they are consecrated, is their jjowerfid advocate to obtain from her Son tiiat superhumai. virtue of ( hastily ; that what would be a (ausc of sure jjerdition to common men is without jieril and daiif^er for a true son of Mary ; and, widi amazing stupidity, Uic people consent to lio duped, blinded, and deceived by those fooleries. Hut licre let the world hear the truth as it i , from one who knows perfectly everything inside and outside the walls of that Afodern Babylon ; though many, I know, will disbelieve me and say, *' We hope you are mis- t.il;cn. Il is impossible that the priests of Rom'' should turn will to be suijroved, by one of their greatest and best bishops and ( ar.linals, the Cardinal ])e IJonald, Archbishop of Lyons. I 'he i.)Ook is written for the use of the priests alone. Its title is in Frcncii, '• I^xamcn de Conscience des I'rctres." At page 34 we read : — " Have I left certain pcr.sons to make the declarations of their sins in sucii a way that the imagination, once taken and impressed by pictures and representations, could be dragged into a long course of temptations and grievous sins? The priests do not i)ay sufficient atten tion to the continual temptations causeil by the hearing of confessions. The soul is gradually enfeebled in such a way that, at the end, the virtue of chastity is for ever lost." Here is the address of a priest to other priests when he susjjects that nobody but his co-sinner brcthern hear Jiim. Here is the honest langUvige of truth. In the presence oi God, those priests acknowledge that they have not a sufficient fear of those co?isiant (what a word — what an acknowledgment— constant !) tempta- tions, and they honestly confess that those temptations come from the hearing of the confessions of so many scandalous sins. litre the priests honestly acknowledge that those constant tcm[)tation.s, at the end, destroy ^/iv ever in them the holy \irtue of p'urityl * * And remark lluil ali llieir rcliijlous auliiors who liavc WnUc-ll on that subject lioM the same l;inguai;c. Tlit-y all sj>eak. of thost" continual degrading" tcmjitations ; tliuy a!! lainvnt tlie damning '^in • wliich follow Uiosc temptations ; thcv all entieat tlie priests to tigh' those temptations and repeat of those sins. AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. OS, one of )r at least hops and of Lyonfi. sts alone, icnce des ■clarallons ion, once ;cntations, alions Cu\d cut atten- ic hearin'r jcl in sucli is for ever ests when ;iiern hear :nowlcdi.jc /a;// (wliat ) tempui- m[)tations so many :nowledge estioy^/tv lavc wruuii ik of tlius«^ lllKlilitJ sill;. e5ts to fi£;hi 45 Ah I would lo God that all the honer".t girls and ".omen whom the devil entraps into the snares of auricu lar confession could hear the cries .i distress of those poor priests whom they have tempted— /t^r e:cr de- stroyed ! Would to God that they could see the torrent^, of tears shed by so many priests because, from the hearing of confessions, they had/^r rccr lost the virtue of puritv I They would understand that the confessional is a snare, a pit of perdition, a Sodom for the priest ; and thev would be struck with horror and shame at the idea of the ccntinual, shameful, dishonest, degrading temptations by which their confessor is tormented day and night — they would blush on account of the shameful sins which their confessors have committed -they would weep over the irreparable loss of their purity — they would promise before (iod and men that the confessional-box should never see them any more — ^they would prefer to be burned alive, if any sentiment of honesty and charity remained in them, rather than consent to be a cause of constant temptation and damnable sin to that man. Would that respectable lady go any more to confess to that man if, after her confession, she could hear him lamenting tiie continual, shameful temptations which assail him day and night, and the damning sins which he has committed on account of what she has confessed to liim ? No— a thousand times no ! Would that honest father allow his beloved daughter to go any more to that man to confess if he could hear his cries of distress, and see his tears tlowing because the hearing of tU)sc confessions is the source of con stant, shameful temptations and degrading iniviuities ? Oh ! would to God that tlie honest Romanists all over the world— for there are millions v.ho, though deluded, r > 46 THE PRiEbT, THE W'O.MAN, are honest —could see \vhat Is going on In the heart, the imagination of tlie poor confessor when he is, there, surrounded by attractive women, and tempting girls, i^peaking to him from morning to night on things which a m;in tannot hear without falling I Then that modern I Hit grand imposture called the Sacrament of Penance would soon be ended. But h'jre, again, who will not lament the consequence cf ihiC total i)ervcrsity of our human nature? Tl very same priests who, whcii alone in the presence of God, r.pcak so plainly of the constant temptations by which they are assailed, and who so sincerely weep over the irreparable loss of their virtue ot purity, when they think that nobody licars tliem, will yet in public deny \\)\h a lirazen face those temptations. 'J1iey will indig- nantly rebuke you as a slanderer if you say anything to lead ;!iem to suppose that you fear for their purity when they Vx:\v tlie confessions of girls or married women. There i; not a single one of the Roman Catholic authors who h.ue written on that subject for the priests, Avho has not deplored their innumerable and degrading sins against pr.rity on account of the auricular confession ; but those very mc]i will be the first to try to prove the \"er}' con- trary v.hea tiiey write books for tlie people. I have no words to sa}' what was i-iiy sur[n-ise v.hon, lor the first time. I sav,' tliat this strange duplicity seemed to be one of the fundamental stones ot my Church. It was not very long after my ordinatiijn, when a priest came to me to confess the most: dei:!jrable things. He honestly told me that there was not n single one of the girls or married women v.liom he had confessed who had not been a secret (\iu!;c of the most shameful sins in thoughts, desires, or actions ; but he vrept so bitterly A\D IHl-: C(.)Nl'£.SSIO.NAL 0\: ROME 47 •V cirt, the , there, ig girls, s whit b modern ^enancc equeuce Tl J sencc of tions by 2ep over len they )lic deny ill indig- ig to lead fien they ^"licrc lors who .las not against It tho.-e TV con- uive no he first be one a prie^5t gs. He ;ic of the sod who iciul sins bitterly over his degradation, his heart seemed so sincerely bro- ken on account ot" h: , own ini with his. I wept with him, and I gave hhn iho pirdon ot all his sins, as I thought, then. 1 had the power and right to give it. 'i'wo hours afterwards, that same priest, who was a good speaker, was in ihe [>ulpii. His sermon was on " The Divinity of Auricular Confession ;"' and. to ]-»rovc that it was an institution coming directly from Christ, he said that the Son of Cod v.as making a constant miracle to strengthen His i)ricsts, and prevent them from falling into s'ns, on account of what they might have heard in the confessional ! The daily abominations, whi'h are ilie result of auricular confession, are so horrible and .••o well known by the popes, the bishops, and tlie {)ric.ns, that several times, public attempts have l^ecn made to diminish them l>y ])unishing the guilty priests ; but all these have tailed. One of the most remarkable of those efforts was made by Pius IV. about the year 1500. A Hull was published by him, by which all the girls and the married women who had been seduced into sins by their confessors were ordered to denounce them ; and a certain number of high church officers of the Holy Inquisition werQ autho- rized to take tlie depositions of the fallen pehitcnts. The thing was at first tried at Seville, one of the princi- pal cities of Spain. When the edict v»u.s first published the number of wgrtien who felt bound in conscience to go and depose against their father confessors was so great that, though there were thirty notaries and as many inquisitors to take th.e depositions, thev were unable to do the work in tlie appointed time. Tliirty days more were given, but the inquisitors were so overwhelmed M mm 48 THE IKlEh!. 1H£ WOMAN. with the numberless depositions that another period of time of the same length was given. But this, again, was found insufiicient. At the end, it was found that the number of priests who had destroyed the purity of their penitents was so great that it was impossible to punish them all. I'hc inquest w.-j^ given up, and the guilty confessors remained un;. .::■.:- ..d. Several attempts of the same nature have Lctn tried by other popes, but with about the same success. But if those honest -;.■:. :..,ts, on the part of some v/ell-nieaning popes, to [ ..:..: ^- the confessors who de- stroy the purity of their perLiients, Iiixq failed to touch the guilty parties, they are. in the good providence of God, infallible witnesses 10 tell to the world that auri- cular confession is nothing else than a snare to the con- fessor and his dupes. Yes, those Bulls of the popes are an irrefragable testimony that auricular confession is the most powerful invention oi the devil to corrupt the heart, pollute the body, and damn the soul of tlie priest and his female penitent i AND THE CO.VFEoSIOX.U OF ROME. 49 CHAPTER IV. now THE vow OF CELIBACT OF THE ?RIESTS IS MADE EASY BY AURICUL.VR CONFESSION. Are not facts the best arguments ? Well, here is an undeniable, a public fact, which is connected with a thousand collateral ones to prove that auricular confes- sion is the most powert'ul engine of demoralization which the world has ever seen. About the year 183—, there was in Quebec a fine-look- ing young priest ; he had a magnificent voice, and was a pretty good speaker.* Through regard for his family, which is still numerous and respectable, I will not give his name, I will call him Rev. Mr. D . Havin^ been invited to preach in a parish of Canada, about 100 miles distant from Quebec, called Vercheres, he was also requested to hear the confessions during a few days of a kind of Xovena (nine days of prayer^, which was going on in that place. Among lis penitents was a beautiful young girl about nineteen years old. ^ht wanted to make a general confession of all her sins from the first age of reason, and the confessor granted her re-'uest. Twice everv- day she was there, at the feet of her handsome young spiritual physician, telling all her iiioughts, her deeds, her desires. Sometimes she was He Li dcaJ long ago. \i. 50 THK PKlKbl, im: WOMAN, t '■ remarked to have remained a whole hour in the confes- sionalbox, in accusing herself of all her human frailties. What did she say ? God only knows ; but what beoime hereafter known by the entire of Canada is that the con- fessor fell in love with his fair penitent, and that she burned with the same irresistible fires for her confessor, as it so often happens. It was not an easy matter for the priest and the young girl to meet each other in as complete a tctc-d-tcte as they both wished, for there were too many eyes upon them. But the confessor was a man of resources. The last day of the Novena he said to his beloved penitent, " I am going to Montreal, but three days after I will take the stCvimer back to Quebec. That steamer is accus- tomed to stop here. At about twelve a.m., be on the wharf, dressed as a young man. Let no one know your secret. Vou will embark in the steamboat, where you will not be known, if you have any prudence. You will come to Quebec, where you will be engaged as a servant- boy by the curate, of whom I am the vioir. Nobody will know your sex except myself, and we will there be happy together." The fifth day after this there was a great desolation in the family of the girl, for she had suddenly disappeared and her robes had been found on the shores of the St. Lawrence river. There was not the least doubt in the minds of all relations and friends, that the general con- fession she had made had entirely upset her mind, and, in an excess of craziness, she had thrown herself into the deep and rapid waters of the St. La\\Tence. Many searches were made to find her body, but all in vain ; many public and private prayers were offered to God to help her to escape from the flames of Purgatory, where AND JIIE CUNFE>.S10NAI. < »l ROME. 51 she might be condemned to suffer for many years, and much money was given to the priest to sing high masses, in order to extinguish the fires of tb.at burning prison, where every Roman Catholic bcUeves he must go to be purified before entering the regions of eternal happiness. I will not give the name of the girl, though I have it, through compassion for her f^.mily ; I will call her Geneva, Well, when father and mother, brothers, sisters, and friends were shedding tears on the sad end of Geneva, she was in the rich parsonage of the Curate of Quebec, well paid, well fed and dressed ; happy and cheerful with her beloved confessor. She was e.xcQcdingly neat in her person, ahvays obliging, ready to run and do what you wanted at the very twinkling of your eye. Her new name was Joseph, by which I will now call hen Many times I have seen the smart Joseph at the p;u:sonage of Quebec, and admired his politeness -and good manners ; though it seemed to me sometimes that he looked too much like a girl, and that he was a little too much at ease with Rev. Mr. D , and also with the Ridit Rev. M . B'it ever\' time the idea came to me that Joseph was a girl, I felt indignant with my- self. The high respect I had for the Coadjutor Bishop made it impossible to think that he would ever allow a beautiful girl to sleep in the adjoining room to his own, and to serve him day and night : for Joseph's sleeping- room was just by the one of the Coadjutor, who, for several bodily innnnitics, wliich were not a secret to every one, wanted the help of his servant several times at night, as well as during the day. Things went on ver\- smoothly witli Josej)h during two or three years in the Coadjutor Bishop's house ; but at J 7i •' *, i AM* 5* inK ruiKsT, 'I'm; woman, i: I ^'^ the end it sccinccl to many pcoi)!^ outside that Joseph was taking too jjreat airs of faniiliarily with the young vicars, and even with the venerai)le Coadjutor. Several of the citizens ol" Quebec, who were going more often than others to the parsonage, were surprised and shocked at the famiharity of that servant-boy with liis masters ; he really seemed sometimes to be on equal terms with, if not somewhat above them. An intimate friend of the Disliop, a most devoted Roman Catholic, who war. my near relative, took one day upon himself to respectfully say to the Right Rev. Bishop that it would be prudent to turn out that impudent young man from his palace ; that he was the object of strong and deplorable susj)icions. The position of the Right Rev. IHshoi) and his vicars was not. a very agreeable one. Their barc^ue had evidently drifted among dangerous rocks. To keej) Joseph among them was impossible, after the friendly advice which had come from such a high quarter, and to dismiss him was not less dangerous ; he knew too much of the interior and secret lives of all those holy (?) celi- bates to deal with him as with another common servant- )nan. With a single word of his lips he could destroy them ; they were as if tied to his feet by ropes, which at first seemed made witli sweet cakes and ice-cream, but had suddenly turned into burning steel chains. Several days of anxiety jjassed away ; many sleepless nights succeeded the too-happy ones of better times. IJut what to do ? There were breakers ahead ; breakers on the right, on the left, and on every side. But when every one, particularly the venerable (?) Coadjutor, felt as criminals who expect their sentence, and that their horizon seemed surrounded absolutely by only dark and AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME 53 stormy clouds, on a sudden, a liaimy opening presented itself to the anxious sailors. The curate of" Les Eboulenients," the Rev. Mr. , had just come to Quebec on some private business, and had taken his (luartors in tlie hospitable house of his old friend, the Right Rev. , Bishop Coadjutor. Both had been on very intimate terms for many years, and, in many instances, they had been of great service to each other. The Pontiff of the Church of Canada, hoping that his tried friend would i)crhaps help him out of the terrible difficulty of the moment, frankly told him all about Joseph, and asked him what he ought to do under such difficult circumstances. "My Lord," said the curate of the Ebuulements, " Joseph is just the servant I want. Pay him well, that he may remain your friend, and that his lips may be sealed, and allow me to take him with mc. My housekeeper left me a few weeks ago ; I am alone in my parsonage with my old servant-man. Joseph is just the person I want." It would be difficult to tell the joy of the poor P>ishop and his vicars, when they saw that hea\y stone they had on their neck removed. Joseph, once installed into the parsonage of the pious (?) parish priest of the Eboulemcnts, soon gained the favour of the whole people by his good and winning manners, and every ])arishioner complimented his curate on the smartness of his new servant. But the priest, of course, knew a little more of that smartness than the rest of the ]ieople. Three years ])assed on very smoothly. The priest and his servant seemed to be on the most perfect terms. The only thing which marred the happi ness of that lucky couple was that, now and thou, some «w« 54 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, of the farmers, whose eyes were sharper than those of tlieir neighbours, seemed to think that the intimacy be- tween the two was going a little too far, and that Joseph, was really keeping in his hands the sceptre of the little priestly kingdom. Nothing could be done without his advice ; he was meddling in all the small and big affairs of the parish, and tlie curate seemed somctimr i to be rather the servant than the master in his own house and parish. Those who had at first made those remarks privately began little by little to convey their views to the next neighbour, and this one to the next. In that way, at the end of the third year, grave and serious sus- picions began to spread from one to the other in such a way that the Marguilliers (a kind of Elders) thought l^roper to say to the priest that it would be better for him to turn Joseph out than to keep him any longer. But the old curate had passed so many happy hours with his faithful Joseph that it was as hard as death to give him up. He knew, by confession, that a girl in the vicinity was given to an unmentionable abomination, to which Joseph was also addicted. He went to her and proposed that she should marry Joseph, and that he (the priest) would help them to live comfortably. Joseph, in order to con- tinue to live near his good master, consented also to marry that girl. Both knew very well what the other was. The banns were published during tliree Sabbaths, after which the old curate, blessed tlie marriage of Joseph with the girl his parishioner. They lived together as husband and wife in such har- mony that nobody could suspect the horrible depravity which was concealed behind that union. Joseph con- tinued with liis wife to work often for his priest, till after AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 55 sometime that priest was removed, and another curate, called Tetreau, was sent in his place. This new curate, knowing absolutely nothing of that mystery of inicjuity, emijloycd also Joseph and his wife several times. One day when Joseph was working at the door of the parsonage, in the presence of several people, a stranger arrived, and inquired of him if the Rev. Mr. Tetreau, the curate, was there. Joseph answered, •' Yes, sir. But as you seem to be a stranger, would you allow me to ask you whence you come ? " " It is very easy, sir, to satisfy you. I come frcm Vercheres," replied the stranger. At the word '* Verchl-res " Joseph turned so i)ale that the stranger could not be but struck with his sudden change of colour. Then, fixing his eyes on Joseph, he cried out, " Oh, my God ! what do I see here ? Geneva ! Geneva ! I recognize you, and here you are in the disguise of a man ! " " Dear uncle (for it was her uncle), for God's sake," she cried, " do not say a word more ! " But it was too late. The people who were there had heard the uncle and niece. Their long secret suspi- cions were well-founded — one of their former piiestshad kept a girl under tlie disguise of a man in his house ! and, to blind his people more thoroughly, he had married that girl to another one, in order to have them both in his house, when he pleased, without awakening any suspicion ! I The news went almost as quick as lightning from one end to the other of the parish, and spread all over the northern country watered by the St. Lawrence river. ?> .1 I ' I'll t:i ■os/-mo?ffw, but anle-mortcm incjuest. The Honourable J. , Avho was called and made the proper incjuiry, declared \.\\yy.\ oath that Joseph was a girl I and the bonds of marriage were legally dissolved. During that lime the honest Rev. Mr. Tetreau, struck with horror, had sent an express to the Right Reverend Bishop (Joadjutor of Quebec, informing him that the young man whom he had kept in his house several years, under the name of Joseph, was a girl Now, wiial were they to do with tiie girl, after all was discovered ? Her j)resence in L'anada would for ever compromise the holy {}) (.'iiurch of Rome. She knew too well hov. the priests, through the confessional, select their victims, and iiel]) themselves, in their company, in keepjing their solemn vows of celibacy I What wouM have become of the respect i>aid to the jiriest, if she had been taken by the hand and invited to speak, bravely, boldly, before the people of Canada? The lioly (?) IJishop and his vicars understood these things very well. They immediately sent a trustworthy man with ^500 to say to the girl that, if she remained in Canada, she < ould be jirosecuted and severely jjunished ; that it w is lier interest to leave the country, and emigrate ti> 'i- I'nittd States. They offered her the ^'500 if she ^ a , promise to go and never return. She acce})tcd the offer, crossed the lines, and we have never since heard anything of her. AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 57 In the providence of God, I was invited to prcacii in that parish soon after, and I learned these facts accu- rately. The Rev. Mr. Tetrcau, under whose pastorate this preat inicjuity was dctecte(', Ix-gan from that time to have his eyes opened to tlie awful dei)ravily of the priests of Rome through the confessional. 1 [e wept and (Tied over Ills own degradation in the midst of that nujdern Sodom. Our merciful God looked down with compas- sion upon him, and sent him His saving grace. Not long after, he sent to the Bishop his renunciation of the errors and abominations of Romanism. To-day he is working in the vineyard of the Loid with the Methodists in the city of Montreal, where he is ready to prove the correctness of what we say. Let those who have ears to hear, and eyes to see, understand, by this fact, that Pagan nations have not known any institution «o deprtiving as Auricular Con- fession ! - , • t m ■HHB ■W»««N>t-W W 1 «»" I W »P'W 4^ TS^ I^RI^ST, Tn,E: WOMAN, CHAPTER V. THt HIGHLY EDUCATED AND REFINED WOMAN IN THE CONFESSIONAL. — WHAX BECOMES OF HER AFTER HER UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER. — HER fRREPARABLE RUIN. The most skilful warJor has never had to display so much skill and so many ruses de guerre; he has never had to use more tremendous efforts to reduce and storm an impregnable citadel, as the confessor who wants to reduce and storm the citadel of self-respect and honesty which God Himself has built around the sor.l and the h?art of every daughter of Eve. But, as it is through woman that the Pope wants to conquer the world, it is supremely important that he should enslave and degrade her by keeping her at his feet as his footstool, that she may become a passive instrument in the accomplishment of his vast and pro- found scheme. In order perfectly to master women in the higher cir- cles of society, every confessor is ordered by the Pope to loarn t!ic most oomplicated and perfect strategy. He has to study a grctit number of treatises on the art of per- suading the fair sex to confess to him plainly, clearly, and in dctriil, every thought, every secret desire, word, and deed, just as they occurred. AND THE CONIESSIONAL OF ROME. 59 And that art is considered so important and so diffi- cult that all the theologians of Rome call it " the art of aris." Dens, St. Liguori, Chevassu, the author of the " Mir- ror of the Clerg}'," Debreyne, and a multitude of authors too numerous to mention, have given the curious and scientific rules of that secret art. They all agree in declaring that it is a most difficult and danger^ns art ; they all confess that the least error of judgment, the least imprudence or temerity, when storming the impregnable citadel, is sure death (spiritual, of course) to the confessor and the penitent. The confessor is taught to make the first steps towards the citadel with the utmost caution, in order that his female penitent may not suspect at first what he wants her to reveal ; for this would generally induce her to shut for ever the door of the fortress against him. .■\fter the first steps of advance, he is advised to make several steps back, and to put himself in a kind of spiritual ambuscade, to see the effect of his first advance. If there is any prospect of success, then the word " March on ! " is given, and a more advanced post of the citadel must be tried and stormed if possible. In that way, little by little, the whole place is so well surrounded, .so well crippled, denuded, and dismantled, that any more resistance seems impossible on the part of the rebellious soul. Then the last charge is ordered, the final assault is given ; and if God does not perform a real mirarle to save that soul, the last v>al;s crumble, the doors are l)eaten down ! Then the i>jn.essor makes a triumphant entry into the place ; the vi'ry heart, soul, conscience, and intelligence, are.conciuerel. ♦ • «v 0tU. in % I*' i''f r' 6e THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, When once master of the place, the priest visits all its most secret recesses and corners ; he pries into its most sacred chambers. The conquered place is entirely, absolutely in his hands ; he docs what he pleases within its precincts ; he is the supreme master, for the surrender has been unconditional. The confessor has become the Ofi/y infallible ruler in the conquered place — nay, he has become its only God — for it is in the name of God that he has besieged, stormed, and conquered \t* it is in the name of God that, hereafter, he will speak and be obeyed. No human words can adequately give an idea of the irreparable ruin which follows the successful storming and unconditional surrender of the once so noble for- tress. The longer the resistance has been, the more terrible and complete is the destruction of its beauty and strength ; the nobler the struggle has been the more irretrievable are the ruin and loss. Just as the higher and stronger the dam is built to stem the current of the rapid and deep waters of the river, the more awful the disasters \vhich follow its destruction, so it is with that noble soul. A mighty dam has been built by the very hand of God, called self respect and womanly modesty, to guard her against the pollutions of this sinful world ; but the day that the priest of Rome succeeds, after long efforts, in destroying it, the soul is carried by an irresis tible power into unfathomable abysses of iniquity. Then it is that the once most respectable lady will consent to hear, without a blush, things against which the most degraded woman would indignantly shut her ears. Then it is that she freely speaks on matters for repeating which a printer in England has lately been sent to jail. At first, in spite of Jierself, but soon with a real sen- ' AMD THE CON FES S ION' AL OF KOME 6! dier sual pleasure, tliat fallen angel will think, when alone. on what she has heard and what she has said in the con- fessional-box. In spite of herself, the vilest thoughts will at first irresistibly fill her niind ; and soon the thoughts will engender temptations and sins. Hut those vile temptations and sins, which would have filled her with horror and regret before her entire surrender into the hands of the foe, beget very different sentiments now tliat she is no more her own self-possessor and guide, \inder the eyes of God. The conviction of her sins is no more connected with the thought of a God, infinitely holy and just, whom she must serve and fear. The conviction of her sins is now immediately connected with the thought of the man witli whom she will have to speak, and who will easily make e/er}thing right and pure in her soul by his absolution. When the day of going to confess comes, instead of being sad and uneasy and bashful, as she used to be formerly, she feels pleased and delighted to have a ^ew opportunity of conversing on those matters, without im- proj)ricty and sin to herself; for she is now fully per- suaded that there is no impropriety, no shame, no sin, nay, she believes, or tries to believe, that it is a good, honest, Christain, and godly thing to converse with her priest on those matters. I ler most happy hours arc when she is at the feet of that spiritual physician showing him all the newly made wounds of her soul ; explaining all her constant tempta- tions, her bad thoughts, her most intimate secret desires and sins. Then it is that the most sacred mysteries of the mar- ried life are revealed ; then it is that the n)ysleriou5 and l)recious pearls which God has given as a croiMi of mercy « :: *^ 62 IHE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, to those whom He has uude one body, one heart, one soul, by the blessed ties of a diristian union, are lavishly tlirown before swine. ^\'holc hours are tliiis passed by the fair penitent in speaking to her Father Confessor with the utmost free- dom on matters which would rank her among the most profligate and lost women, if it were only suspected by jier friends and relatives. A single word of those inti- mate conversations would be followed by an act of divorce on the part of the husband, if it were known by him. But the betrayed liusband knows nothing of the dark Hiysterics of auricular confession ; the duped father sus- pects nothing ; a cloud tiom hell has obscured the intel- ligence of both, and made them blind. It is just the contrary : husbands and faihers, friends and relations, feel edified and pleased with the touching spectacle of the ])iety of Madam and Miss . In the village, as well as in the city, every one has a word to speak in their praise. Mrs. is so ofienseen liumbly prostrated at the feet, or by the side, of her confessor ! Miss remains so Ion;; in the confessional-box I they receive the holy communion so frequent!}'; they both speak so elo(|uently and so often of the admirable piet)', modesty, holiness, patience, charity, of their incomparablo-spidtinl Father ! P>ery one congratulates th ^m on their new and exemp- lary life ; and they accept the compliniQnt with the utmost humility, attributing their rapid progress in Chris- tian virtues to the holiness of their confessor. He is such a spiritual man ! who could rot make rapid strides under such a holy guide ? AND THE CONFEJSIOXAL OF ROME. 63 The more constant the temptatioiis are, the more the secret sins oven\'helm the soul, and the more airs of peace and holiness are put on. The more foul the secret emanations of the heart, the more the fair and refmed penitent surrounds herself by an atmosphere of the sweetest perfumes of a sham piety. The more polluted the inside of the sepulchre is, the more shining and white the outside will be kept. Then it is that, unless God performs a miracle to prevent it, the ruin of that soul is sealed She has drunk in the poisonous cup failed by "the mother of harlots," and she has found tlie wine of her prostitution sweet. She will Jicnceforth delight in her spiritual and secret orgies. Her holy (?) couFcssor has told her that there is no impropriety, no shame, no sin, in that cup. The Pope has sacrilegiously written the word " Life '"' on that cup of "Death." She has believed the Pope: the terrible myster}' of iniquity is accomplished ! *• The mystery of iniquity doth already work .... whose coming is after the working of .Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, and with all deceivablc- ness of unrighteousness in them that parish, because they received not the love of the tnith, that they might be saved- And for this cau-:e God shall send them strong dwlusion, that they should bel:e\-e a lie : that they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness'' (2 Thess. iL 7-12). Yes : the day that the rich, well-educated lady gives up her self-respect, and unconditionally surrenders the citadel of womanly modesty into the hands of a man, whatever be his name or titles, that he may freely put to her questions of the \-ileat -character which she must fm Irf.- •MMmMn«M«%". ^4 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, answer, she is lost and degraded, just as if she were the humblest and poorest servant-girl. I purposely say " the rich and well-educated v/oman," for I know that there is a prevalent opinion that the social position of her class places her above the corrupt- ing influences of the confessional, as if she were out of reach of the common miseries of our poor fallen and sinful nature. So long as the well-educated lady makes use of her accomplishments to defend the citadel of her womanly self-respect against the foe — so long as she sternly keeps the door of her heart shut against her deadly enemy — she is safe. But let no one forget this : she is safe only so long as she does fiot surrender. "When the enemy is once master of the place, I emphatically repeat, the ruinous consequences are as great, if not greater, and more irreparable than in the lowest classes of socictv. Throw a piece of precious gold into the mud, and tell me if it will not plunge deeper than the piece of rotten wood. ^^'hat woman could be nobler, purer, and stronger than I-'ve when she came from the hands of her Divine Oeator ? But how quickly she fell when she gave car to the seducing voice of the tempter ! How irreparable was her ruin when she complacently looked on the for- bidden fruit, and believed the lying voice wliich told her there was " no sin " in eating of it I I solemnly, in the presence of the great God who ere long will judge me, give my testimony on this grave subject. After 25 years' experience in the confessional, 1 declare that the confessor himself encounters more terrible dangers when hearing the confessions of refined AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 6k licr 1 and highly-cd cated ladies, than when listeninp; to those of the humoI*>- classes of his female penitents. I solemnly testify that the Avell-educated lady, when she has once surrendered herself to the power of her confessor, becomes, as a general rule, at least as vulner- able to the arrows of the ccemy as the poorer and less educated. Xay. I must, say that, once on the down-hill road of perdition, the high-bred lady runs headlong into the pit with a more deplorable rapidity than her humbler sister. All Canada is witness tliat a few years ago it Avas among the highest ranks of society that the Grand Vicar Superior of one of the richest and most influential col- leges of Canada, was choosing his victims, wlicn tlic public cr}' of indignation and shame forced the Bishop to =.end him back to Europe, ■where he soon after died. Was it not rdso among {he higher classes of society that a Superior of the Seminar)- of Quel^ec was destroying souls, when he was detected, and forced, during a dark night, to fly and conceal himself behind the walls of the Trappist Monastery* of Iowa ? Many would be the folio volumes which I should have to write, "were I to publish all that my twenty-five years' experience in the confessional has taught me of the unspeakable secret corruption of the greatest part of the so-called respectable ladies who have unconditionally surrendered themselves into the hands of their holy (?) confessors. But the following fact will suffice for those who have eyes to see, ears to hear, and an intelligence to understand. In one of the most beautiful and thriving towns along the St. LawTence River lived a rich merchant. He was young, and his marriage with a most lovely, rich, and VK« li. 66 IIIK I'KIKST, THE WOMAX, accomplisnctl young lady had made him one of ihc happiest men in the land. A few years after his marriage, the Hishop appointed to that town a young priest, really remarkable for his eloquence, zeal, and amial)le (lualities, and the merchant and the priest soon became connected by links of the most sincere friendship. The young, accomplished wife of the merchant soon became the model woman of the place, under the direc- lion of her new confessor. Many and long were the hours she used to pass by the side of her spiritual Father, to be purified and enlight- ened ])y his godly advices. She soon was seen at the head of the few who had the privilege of receiving the holy communion once a week. The husband, who was a good Roman Catholic himself, blessed God and the Virgin Mary that he had the privilege of living with such an angel of piety. Nobody had the least suspicion of what was going on under that holy and white mantle of the most exalted jMcty. Nobody, except God and His angels, could hear the (;ucstions put by the priest to his fair pentitent, and llic answers made during the long hours of their tcle-d- /.'/(', in the confessional-box. Nobody but God could sec the hellish fires which were devouring the hearts of the confessor and his victim ! For nearly one year, both tlie }oung priest and his spiritual patient enjoyed, in those intimate and private secret conversations, all the pleasures which lovers feel, when they can speak, freely to each other of their secret thoughts and love. But this was not enough for them. They both wanted something more real, though the difficulties were great and seemed even insurmountable. The priest had his .gon ilted liear and cte-d' :ould jts ot" both id, in 1 the freely AND THE CONf'ESSIOXAL OF RU.Mt:. 67 mother and sister with him, whose eyes were too shari) to allow hitn to invite the lady to his own house for any criminal object, and the youn^; husband had no business at a distance which couhl keep him Ion; enough out of his hai)py home to allow the Pope's confessor to accom- plish Jiis diabolical designs. IJut when a poor fallen daughter of Eve has a mind to do a thing, she very soon finds the means, particulary if high education has added to iier natural shrewdness. And in this case, as in many others of a similar nature which have been revealed to me, she soon found how to attain her object without cumprouiising herself or her holy (?) confessor. .\ i)lan was soon found, and cor- dially agreed to, and botJi patiently awaited their oppor- tunity. '' Why have you not gone to mass to-day and received the holy communion, my dear?" said the husband : ''I had ordered the servant-man to put the horse in the buggy for you as usual." " I am not very well, my beloved ; I have passed a sleepless night from head-ache." •• I will send for the physician,"' replied the husband. " Vcs, my dear ; do send for the i)hysician— perhaps he will do me good." iJne hour after, t'\e physician called. He found his fciir patient a little feverish, pronounced that there was nothing serious, and that she would soon be well. He gave her a little jiowder, to be taken three times a day, and left ; but at nine p.m., she comi»lained of a great pain in the chest, and soon tainted and fell on the lloor. The doctor was again immediately sent for, but he was from home : it took nearly half an hour before he could come. When he arrived the alarming crisis w^is over— ••> -. ;^ A, .; 6S THE PRIEST, THE WUMAlV, I • ■ i ,■ she was sitting in an arm-chair, with some neighbouring women, who were applying cold water and vinegar to lier foreliead. The physician was really al a loss what to say of the cause of such a sudden illness. At last he said that it might be an attack of the " ver solitaire " (tape -worm). lie declared that it was not dangerous ; that he knew how to cure her. lie ordered some new [)Owder to be taken, and left, after having promised to return the next day. Half an hour after she ])egan to complain of a most terrible pain in her chest, and fainted again ; but before doing so she said to her husl)and, - *' My dear, you see that the ])hysician understands absolutely nothing of the nature of my disease. I have not the least confidence in him, for I feel that his pow- ders make me worse. I do not want to see him any more. I suffer more than you suspect, my beloved ; and if there is not soon a change I may be dead to- morrow. The only ]'hysician 1 want is our holy con- fessor ; please make haste to go and get him. I want to make a general confession, and to receive the holy viaticum (communion) and extreme unction before I grow worse. Beside himself with anxiety, the distracted husband ordered the horse to be put in the buggy, and made his servant accompany him on horseback, to ring the bell, while his pastor carried "the good god" (Zc Boii Dicii) to his dear sick wife. He found the priest i)Iously reading his hrrcnarium (his book of daily prayers) ; and admired the charity ai^d promptitude with which his good pastor, in that dark and chilly night, was ready to leave his wanii and comfortable parsonage at the first appeal of the sick. In less than an .1 . t AND THE CONFESSION .1. OF ROME «9 hour the huslxuul liad taken the priest with " tlie good god " from the church to the l)c'droi)in of lu's wife. All along the way tlic servant-man had rung a big liand Ijell U) awaken the sleeping farmers, who, at the noise, liad to jump, half naked out of their beds and worship, on their knees, with their faces prcjstrate in the dust, " the good god " which was being carried to the sick. On his arri\al, the confess<;r, with every ajjpcarance of sincere i)iety, dei)Osited '* the good god " {/w Bon Jh'aA on a table, richly prepared for such a solemn occasiim, and, ap[)roaching the bed, leaned hii head towards his penitent, and inquired how she felt. She answered him, " 1 am very siik, and want to make a general confession before I die." Speaking to her husband, she said with a fpinting voice, " Please, my dear, tell my friends to withdraw from the room, ^lat I may not be distracted when making what may be my last confession." » The liusband respectfully requested the friends to leave the room with him, and shut the door, that the holy con fessor might be aione with his penitent during her general confession. One of the most diabolical schemes under the cover of auricular confession had perfectly succeeded. 'J he mother of harlols, that great enchantress of souls, whose seat is on the city of the " seven iiills," had, there, her jiricst to bring shame, disgrace, and damnation, under the mask of Christianity. The destroyer of souls, whose masterpiece is auricular confession, had there, for the millionth time, a fresh op- portunity of insa'.ting the God of purity, through one of Ta 1 •% i4'ni and said, villi a sanctimonious air, " \'nu may eriL..'r to l)ray with me, while I give the last scicramenl to our dear sick sister." 'I'hey came in ; " the good god " ( /.c Bon J^icu) was given to the woman ; and the husband, full of gratitude for the considerate attention of his priest, took him back to his parsonage, and thanked him mo;;t sincerely for having so kindly come to visit his wife in so cliilly a night. Ten years later, I ^vas called to ])reach a retrent (a kind of revival) in that same parish. That lady, then an absolute stranger to me, came to my confessional-box and confessed to me those details as I now give them. She seemed to be really penitent, and I gave her abso- lution and the entire i)ardoa of her sins, as my Church told me to do. On the last day of the revival, the mer- chant invited nic to a grand dinner. Then it was that J came to know who my ])enitent had been. I must not forget to mention that she had confessed to rnc that, of her four children, the last three belonged to her confes- sor I He had lost his mother, and, his sister having married, his parsonage had become more accessible to his fair penitents, many of whom had availed themselves of that opportunity to practise the lessons they had learned in the confessional. The priest had been re- moved to a higher position, where he, more than ever, AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 71 enjoyed the confidence of liis superiors, the respect of the people, and the love of his fem;ile i)enitents. I never felt so embarrassed in my life as when at tie table of that sc - ruelly victimised man. We had hardly begun to take our dinner when he asked me if 1 had known their late pastor, the amiable Rev. Mr. I answered, "Yes, sir, 1 know him." '' Is he not a most accomplished priest ? " "Ves, sir, he is a most accomplished man," f answered. "Why is it," rejoined the good merchant, "that the Bishop has taken him away from us? lie was doing so well here ! i le had so deservedly earned the confidence of all by his piety and gentlemanly manners that we matlc every effort to keep him with us. I drew up a petition myself, which all the [)eople signed, to induce the Bishop to let him remain in our midst; but in vain. His lord ship answered us that he wanted him for a more import- ant place on account of his rare ability, and we had to submit. His zeal and devotedncss knew no bounds. In the darkest and most stormy nights he was always ready to come to the first call of the sick. I shall never forget how quickly and cheerfully he responded to my appeal when, a few years ago, I went, in the midst of one of our most chilly nights, to request him to visit my ^v'\i'e, who was very sick." At this stage of the conversation, I must confess that I nearly laughed outright. The gratitude of that poor dupe of the confessional to the priest who had come to bring shame and destruction to his house, and the idea of that very man going himself to convey to his home the corrupter of his own wife, seemed to me so ludicrous that, for a moment, I had to make a superhuman effort to control myself. t> M fr«-T« fe :; ■»*» 72 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, But I was soon brought to my better senses by the shame which I felt at the idea of the unspeakable degra- dation and secret infamy of the clergy of which I was a member. At that instant hundreds of cases of similar, if not greater, depravity, which had been revealed to me through the confessional,, came to my mind and distressed and disgusted me so much that my tongue was ahnost l>.iraly/ed. After dinner the merchant asked his lady to rrll the children, that 1 might see them, and I could not but admire their beauty ; but I do not need to say that the jjlcasure of seeing those dear and lovely little ones was much marred by the secret though sure knowledge 1 had that the three youngest were the fruits of the unspeak- able depravity of auricular confession in the higher ranks of society. i' ject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own hi^oiunds, in everything" (Fqih. v.) if these solemn words are the true oracles of divine wisdom, is not the husband divinely appointed the t'.v/V ad'.iser, counsellor, help of his wife, just as Christ is the e;//v adviser, coun- sellor, and help of His Church ? ]f the Apostle was not an impostor when he said that the wite is to her husband what the body is to the head, and that the husband is to his wife irhat the head is to the body — is not the husband appointed by Ciod to be the light, the guide of his wife? Is it not his duty, as well as his privilege and glory, to console her in her afflictions, strengthen h< r in 1/ r hours of weakness, keep her up when she is in danger - •( 'ainting, and encourage her wlien she is on the rough n-\ uphill ways of life ? if Christ has not come to uocjive the world through His Apostle, must not tlie wife go to her husband for advice ? Ought she not lo c.\]>ect from him, and him 3 76 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, ■r. alone, after God, the light she wants and the consolation she is in need of? Is it not to her husband, and to him alone, after God, she ought to look ia her days of trial for help ? Is it not under his leadership alone she must fight the battle of life and concjucr ? Are not this mutual and daily sharing of the anxieties of life, this constant shouldering on the battle-field, and this recipro- cal and mutual protection and help renewed at ever>^ hour of the day, which form, under the eyes and by the mercy of God, the holiest and the purest charms of the tnarried life ? Is it not that unreser\-ed confidence in each other which binds toiiether those golden links of Christian love that make them happy in the very midst of the trials of life ? Is it not through this mutual con- fidence alone that they are cnf as God wants them to be o/ie ? Is it not in this unity of thoughts, fears and hopes, joys and love, which come from God, that they can cheerfully cross the thorny valley, and safely reach the Promised Land ? The Gospel says that the husband is to his wife what Christ is to His Church ! Is it not, then, a most sacri- legious iniquity for a wite to look to another rather than to her own husband for such advice, wisdom, strength, and life, as he is entitled, ciialiticd, and ready to afford ? As no other has the right to her love, so no other man has any right to her absolute confidence. As she be- comes an adulteress the day that she gives her body to another man, is she any the less an adulteress, the day that she gives her confidence and trusts her soul to a stranger ? The adultery of the heart and soul is not less criminal than tlie adulter}* of the body ; and every time the wife goes to the feet of the priest to confess, does she not become guilty of that iniquity ? AND THE CONTRwIOXAL OF ROME. 77 ^vhat ;acri- than th, 'or J? man be y to day ) a not very fess, In the Church of Rome, through the confessional, the priest is much more the huab^.Tid of the wife than the man to whom she was wedded at the foot of the altar. The priest has .he best part of the wife. He has the marrow, when the husband has the bones. He has the juice of the orange, the husband has the rind. He has the soul and the heart ; the husband has the skeleton. He has the honey ; the husband has the wax celL He lias tke succulent oyster ; the husband has the dr>- shell. As much as the soul is higher than the body, so much are the power and pri\ileges of ;h2 priest higher than the power and privileges of the husband in the mind of the penitent wife. As the husband is the lord of the body which he feeds, so the priest is the lord of the soul, which he also feed.s. The ^xife, then, has two lords and masters, whom she must love, respect, and obey. Will she not give tlie best part of her love, respect, and submission to the one who is as much above the other as tlie heavens arc above the eanh ? But as one cannot serve two masters together, will not the master who pre- pares and fits her for an eternal life of glorj-. certainly be the object of her constant, real, and most ardent love, gratitude, and respect, when the worldly and sinful man to whom she is married will have only the appearance or the crumbs of those sentiments ? Will she not, natural- ly, instinctively serve, love, respect., and obey, as lord and master, the godly man whose yoke is so light, so holy, so divine, rather than the carnal man whose human imperfections are to her a source of daily trial and suf- fering ? In the Church of Rome the thoughts and desires, the secret joys and fears of the soul, the very life of the wife, are sealed things to the husband. He has no rij^ht to 78 THE PRIEST, HIE WOMAN, look into the sanctuan- of licr heart ; he has no remedy to apply to the soul ; he has no mission from (lod to advise her in the dark hours of lier anxieties ; lie lias no balm to apply to the bleeding wounds, so often received in the daily battles of life ; he must remain a perfect stranger in his own house. 'I'he wife, expecting nothing from her husband, has no revelation to make to him, no favour to ask, no debt of gratitude to pay. Nay, she shuts all the avenues of her soul, all the doors and windows of her heart, against her husband. The j)! Jest, and the i)riest alone, has a right to her entire confidence ; to him, and him alone, she will go and reveal all her secrets, show all her wounds ; to him, and him alone, she will turn her mind, her heart and soul, in the hour of trouble and anxiety ; from him, and him alone, she will ask and expect the light and conso- lation she wants. Every day, more and more, her hus- band will become as a stranger to her, if he does not become a real nuisanc e, and an obstacle to her happi- ness and peace. Yes, through the confessional, an unfathomable abyss lias been dug, by the Church of Rome, between the heart of the wife and the heart of the husband ! Their t)odies may be ver\' near ea< h other, but their souls, their real affections and their confidence, are at greater distance than the north is from the south pole of the earth. The confessor is tlie master, the ruler, the king of the soul ; the husband, as the grave-yard keeper, must be satisfied with the carcase ! The husband has the permission to look on the out- side of the palace ; he is allowed to rest his head on the cold marble of tlie outiloor steps ; but the confessor triumphantly walks into the mysterious starr}- rooms, AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 79 :ct bills, bater the Iking Inust t lUt- h the ■ssor 'MTJS, examines at leisure their numberless and unspeakable wonders ; and, alone, lie is allowed to rest his head on the soft pillows of the unbounded confidence, respect, and love of the wile. In the Church of Rome, if the husband asks a favour from his wife, nine times in ten she will inquire from her father confessor whether or not she can grant him his re(iuest, and the jxDor husband will kave to wait patient- ly for the permission of the master or the rebuke of the lord, according to the answer of the oracle which had to be consulted I If he gets impatient uiider the yoke, and murmurs, the wife will soon go to the feet of her confes- sor, to tell him how she hxs the misfortune to be united to a most unreasonable man, and how she has to suffer from him I She reveals to her " dear father "' how she is unhappy under such a yoke, and how her life would be an unsupportable burden, had she not the privilege and happiness of coming often to his feet, to lay down her sorrows, hear his sympathetic words, and get his' so affectionate and paternal advice : She tells him, with tears of gratitude, that it is only when by his side, and at his feet, she tinds rest to her weary soul, balm to her bleeding heart, and peace to her troubled conscience. When she comes from the confessional, her ears are loni; filled as with a heavenly music, the honeyed words of her coniessor ring for many days in her heart, she feels it lonesome to be separated from him, his image is constantly betore her mind, and the souvenir of his amiabilities is one of her most pleasant thoughts. There is nothing which she likes so much as to speak of his good qualities, his patience, his piety, his charity, she longs for the day when she will again go to confess, and pass a few hours by the side of that angelig man, in '» f) U ,., •■• mSm 80 I HE I'KIEST, J HE WOMAN, opening to liim all the secrets of her heart, and in re- \ealing all her cujuds. She tells him how she regrets that she cannot come oftener to see him, and receive the benefit of his charital)lc counsels ; she does not even rone eal from him how often, in her dreams, she feels too happy to he with him ! More and more, every day, the g.ip between her and her husband widens; more and more, each day, she regrets that she has not the ha])pi- ness to be the wife of such a holy man as her confessor ! (.)h I if it were possible. . . .! But, then, she blushes or bmiJes, and sings a song. Then again, I ask it. Who is the true lord, ruler, and master in that house? For whom does that heart bent and live? Tlius it is that that stupendous imposture, the dogma of auricular confession, does completely destroy all the h'nks, the joys, the responsibilities, and divine privileges of the married life, and transforms it into a life of perpetu- al, though disguised, adultery. It becomes utterly im- possible, in the church of Rome, that the husband should be one with his wife, and that the wife should l)e one with her husband : a " monstrous being " has been jiut between them both, called the confessor! liorn in the darkest ages of the world, that being has received from liell his mission to destroy and contaminate the purest joys of the married life, to enslave the wife, to outrage the husband, and to damn the world ! The more auricular confession is practised, the more the laws of public and private morality are trampled under feet. The husband wants his wife to be his — he does not, and could not, consent to share his authority over her with anybody : he wants to be the 07ily man who will have lier confidence and her heart, as well as her AXM TIIF: ( ON-F'TShloNAI <'| ROMK Sr jore i-he [rity nan I her rcspci.i and Io\c. And so, the m.'IV moiii'-'iii that In: anticiiKitcs the dark shadow of the » onfcssor roinin^^ between hiu: 4!id the woman of his ( hoi* e, he prefers >ilently to shrink from entering into the sacred l)ond ; the holy jovs of home .uid tamilv lose their divine attrac- tions ; lie prefers the '(jld Hfe of an ignominious celibacy to the humiliation and opprobrium of the ([uestioable privileges of an uncertain ])aternity. France, Strain, and many other Roman Catholic coun- tries, thus witness the multitude of those bachelors increasing every year. 'i'he number of fiimilies and births, in consequtince, is r>st decreasing in their midst ; and, if God does not perform a miracle to stop, those nations on their downward course, it is easy to cah^ulatc the day when they will owe their existence to the toler- ance and pity of the mighty J'rotestant nati(Dns by which they are surrounded. Why is it that the Irish Roman Catholic people are so irremediably degraded and clothed in rags? ^Vhy is it that that people, whom Cod has endowed with so many nol^lc (jualities, seem to be so dei)rived of intelligence and self-respect that they glory in their own shame ? Why is it that their land has been for centuries the land of b'oody riots and cowardly murders? The principal cause is the enslaving of the Irish women, by means of t!ie confessional. Every one knows tiiat the s])iritual slavery and degradation of the Irish woman has no bounds. After she has been enslaved and degraded, she, in turn, b.as enshived and degraded her husband and her sons, Ireland will be an ol^ject of pity ; she will be pjoor, mi.s- erable, riotous, blood-thirsty, degraded, so long as she v:iocts Christ, to be ruled by the father confessor plant- ed in every parish by the Pope. 'V M *;1 >• ,.»**■ IIIK I'KIKST, 'llli: WOMAN, Who h;is Dot hfcn ;mia/(.'(l ;in(l saddt'iu'd l)y (he down- fall of IraiKi'.^ How is it that Ikt om c so ini;;hty armies have iiulted away. i!iat hrr hrave sons have so easily been coiujuered and (hsarnied ? llovv is it that {•'ranee, fallen |)o\verless at the feet of her enemies, has frif^htened the world by the speetac le of the ineretlible, bloody, and savaL;e follies of (he Commune.'^ Do not look for the causes of the downfall, humiliation, and im- told miseries of I'Yanee anywhere else than in the con- fessional. I'or centuries has not that great ( ountry obstinately rejected Christ.? Has she not slaughtered or sent into exile her noblest children, who wanted to follow tlie Gospel ? 1 las she not given her fair daugh- ters into the hands iA' the (onfessors, who have detlled and degraded them? I low lould women, in JM-ance, leach her husbands and sons to love liberty, and die for it, when she was herself a miseral)le, an al)ject slave ? How could she form her luisl)ands and .sons to the man- ly virtues of heroes, when her own mind was defiled and her heart corrupted ? 11ie French woman had unconditionally surrendered the noble and fair citadel of her heart, intelligence, and womanly self-respect, into the hands of her confessor long before her s(/ns surrendered their sword to the Germans at Sedan and Paris. The first unconditional surrender had brought the second. The ct)mplete moral destruction of woman by the confessor in I'rance has been a long work. It has re- (juired centuries to \)ow down, break, and cMslave the noble daughters of France. Ves ; but those who know France know that that destruction is now as comjilete as it is deplorable. The downfall of woman in France, and her supreme degradation through the confessional, is AND THK COXFKSSIOXAr, OF ROME. S .> IS now iin fait accompli, v.liiih n()l)()(ly can deny ; the high- est intcUorls have seen jind confcssccl it. One of the most ])roroun(l thinkers of that unfortunate country, Michclct. has depicted that supreme and irretrievable degradation in a most eloquent book, "The Priest, The Woman, The Family ; "' and not a voice has l)een raised to deny or refute what he has said. Those who have ;my knowledge of histor)- and philosophy know very well that the moral di'gradation of the woman is soon follow- ed, everywhere, l)y the moral degradation of the nation ; and the moral degradation of the nation is very soon followed by ruin and overthrow. That French nation had been formed by God to be a race of giants. They were chivalrous and brave ; they had bright intelligences, stout hearts, strong arms, and a mighty sword. pAit as the hardest granite rock yields and breaks under the drop of water which incessantly falls upon it, so that great nation had to break and t(-> fall into pieces under, not the drop, but the rivers of impure waters which for centuries have incessantly flowed in upon it from the pestilential fountain of the confes- sional. " Righteousness cxalteth a nation, but sin is a reproa< h, to any people." (Proverbs xiv.) Why is it that S]iain is so miserable, so weak, so poor, so foolishly and cruelly tearing her own bosom, and red- dening her fair vallevs with the blood of her own child- ren ? I'he principal, if not the only, cause of the down- fall of that great nation is the confessional. There, also, the confessor has defiled, degraded, enslaved women, and wt)men in turn have defiled and degraded iheir husbands and sons. Women have sown broadcast over their country the seeds of that slavery, of tiiat want of Chris- •rl , I'M :> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / o V ^ ^ /j^ Q- Wr fe ^ Ua 1.0 I.I ■ iU ■ m IM 22 M 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ■• 6" ^ y. & /} VI ^. ei vy .>. /a >V' / c^ /A Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y )4S80 ( 716 1 872-4503 iV Cv 4^ <=^ \ ^ ^ .%. Lc$> l\ ir THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, lian honest), justice, and sell rcspet f with which thc\ had thcniselvts been first imbued in the ( onfessional. TiUt when you see, without a sin';le exception, the nations whose wonien drink the impure and poisonous waters which flow from the coifcssional sinking down so rapidly, do you not worider how fast the neighbouring nations, who liave destroyed those dens of hnpurity, prostitution, and abject slavery, are rising up ? What a marvellous contrast is belore our eyes ! On one side, the nations who allow the woman to be degraded and enslaved at tlie lect of the confessor — France, Spain, Romish Ireland, Mexico, &c., «!kc. -arc, there, fallen into the dust, bleedmg, struggling, powerless, like the spar- row whose entrails are devoured by the vulture. On the other side, see how the nations whose women go to wash their robes In the l)lood of the Lan»b are soaring up, as on eagle wings, in the highest regions of progress, peace, and liberty I If legislators could ohce understand the respect and ])rotection they owe to woman, they would soon, by stringent laws, ijrohibit auricular confession as contrary to good morals and the welfare of society ; for, though t!ie advocates of auricular confession have succeeded to a certain extent in blinding th.e public, and in concealing t!ie abominations of the system under a lying mantle of hioliness and religion, it is nothingelse than a school of im- I say more than that. After twenty-live years of hear- ing the confessions of the common people and of the highest classes of society, of the laymen and the priests, of the grand vicars and bishops and the nuns, I consci- entiously say before the world that the immorality of the confessional is of a more dangerous and degrading nature than that which wc attribute to the social evil of our yi AND THE < ON'FF.f.FilON'AL OF KONfF. «5 v> great cities. Tlie injur)- caused to the intelligence and to the souJ in the confessional, as a !;encr.il rule, s of a more dangerous nature and more irremediable, bet ause it is neither susf)e« ted nor understood by its victims. The unfortunate woman who lives an immoral life knows her profound 'iiisery ; she often blushes and wee[)s over her degradation ; she hears from every side voices which call her out of those ways of perdition. Almost at every hour of day and night the c:ry of her conscienc e warns her aga:n.st the desolation and sufferin ; of an eternity passed far away from the regions of holiness, light, and lite. All those things are often so many mean:; of grace, in the hands of our merciful (lod, to awaken the mind and to save the guilty soul. Hut in the con- fessional the poi.son is administered under the name of a pure and refreshing water ; the deadly wound is indicted by a sword so well oiled tliat the blow is not felt ■; the vilest and m.ost im;>ur? notions and thoughts, in the form of questions and answers, are presented and accepted as the bread of lite ! All the notions of modesty, purity, and womanly seli'-re.spect and delicacy, arc set aside and forgotten to propitiate the god of Roaie. ]n tlie confessional the woman is told, and she believes, that there is no sin for her in hearing things which would make the vilest blush — no sin to say things which would make the most desperate villain of the streets of London to stagger — no sin to converse with her confessor on matters so filthy that if attempted in civil life would for ever exclude the perpetrator from the society of the vir- tuous. Yes, the soul and the intelligence defiled and destroyed in the confessional are often hopeles ly defiled and de- :;ili 4 . -I: iB£ '» i if THti ?RI£ST, THE WOMAK« stroycd. They are sinking into a complete, an Irretriev- able perdition ; for, not knowing the guilt, they will not cry for mercy — not suspecting the fatal disease that is being fostered, they will not call for the true Physician. It was evidently when thinking of the unspeakable ruin of the souls of men through the wickedness culminnlir. ; in the " Pope's confessors," that the Son of (lod said : - " If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch." To every woman, with very few ex(Ti)lions, coming out from the feet of her confessor, the children of ligiit may say : — " I know thy works, thnt tliou liast a name that thou livest, but thou art dead I " (Revelations iii.) Nobody has yet L)cen, nor ever will be, able to answer the few following lines, which I addressed some years ago to the Rev. Mr. Ilrujere, Roman Catholic Vicai- Cjeneral of London, Canada : — " With a l)lush on my face, and regret in my heart, I confess, before Cjod and man, that I have been, like you, and with you, tiirough the confessional, plunged twenty- five years in that bottomless sea of iniquity, in v/hich the blind priests of Rome have to swim day and night. " 1 had to learn by heart, like you, the inflmious ques- tions which the Church of Rome forces cver>' priest to learn. I had to put those impure, immoral (questions to old and young females who were confessing their sins to me. These tiuestions — you know it — are of such a nature that no prostitute would dare to put them to another. Those (questions, and the answers they elicit, are so debasing that no man in London — you know it — excej)! a j^riest of Rome, is sutficiently lost to ever)- sense of shame as to put them to any woman. AND THE ttiNFESSIoNAL nF hOMis. »7 jqiies- ;st to )ns to ins to ich a [in to .■licit, it — [every " Yes, I was bound, in ronscienoc, as you are bound to-day, to put into the ears, the mind, the imagination, the memory, the heart aud soul of females, (juestions of such a nature, the direct and immediate tendency of which — you know it well — is to fill the minds and the hearts of both priests and female penitents v.itli thoui^'hts, ])!iantoms, and temj)talions of such a dcL^radini^ nature, that 1 do not know any words adecjuate to express them. Pagan anti(}uity has never seen any institution so polluting as the confessional. 1 know nothing more corrupting than the law which forces a female to tell all her thoughts, desires, and most secret feelings and actions to an unmarried priest. The confesssonal is a school of perdition. You may deny that before the Protestants ; but you cannot deny it before me. My dear Mr. Druyere, if you call me a degraded man be- cause I have lived twenty-five years in the atmosphere of the confessional, you are riglit. I w;is a degraded man, just as yourself and all the priests are to-day, in spite of your denegations. If you call me a degraded man, because my soul, my mind and my heart were, as your own are to-day, plunged into the deej) waters of iniquity which flow from the confe;^sional, I (onfoss ' Guilty ! ' I was degraded and polluted by the confes- sional just as you and all the priests of Rome are. " It has required the whole blood of the great Yictim. \?ho died on Calvary for sinners, to i)f.:ify me ; and 1 pray that, through the same blood, you may be purified also." If the legislators knew the respect and protection they owe to women — I repeat it — they would by the most stringent laws prohibit auricular confession as a crime against society. :,.> • .JV..I ';:$ .#>•» m THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, Not long ago, a printer in England was sent to jail and severely punished for having published in English the questions i)ut by the priests to the women in the (onfessional ; and tht; sentence was equitable, lor all who will read those ([uestions v/ill conclude that no girl or woman who brings her mind into ».ontact with the* contents of that book can escape from moral deatli. JJut what are the priests of Rome doing in the confes- sional ? Do they not pass the greatest part of their time in questioning females, old and young, and hearing their answers, on those very matters ? If it were a crime, punishable by law, to j)resent those questions in a book, is it not a crime far more punisha1)le by law to present those very things to married and unmarried women through the auricular confession ? 1 ask it from every man of conunon sense, What is the difference between a woman or a girl learning those things in a book, or learning ihcm from the lips of a man ? Will not those impure, dcmaializing suggestions sink more deeply into their minds, and impress them- selves more fore ibly in their memory, when told to them by a man of authority, sjieaking in the name of Almighty God, than when read in a book which has no authority ? I say to the legislators of l^urope and America : " Read for yourselves those horrible, unmentionable things ; '" and remember that the Pope has 100,000 priests whose princijjal work is to put those \ery tilings into llie intelligence and memory of the women whom they entrajj inio their snares, i.et us suppose that each priest hears the confessions of only five female penitents (though we know that the daily average is ten). Jt gives us the -PB ; f lem- hem of no rica : ests ilie Itrap we the AND THE CONFESSIONAL OK ROMP,. 8y awful number of 500,000 women whom the priests of Rome have the leg;;l,right to [)olhite and destroy every- day ! Legishitors of the so-called Christian and eivili/ed nations, 1 ask it again from you, Where is your consis- tency, your justice, your love of public morality, whe" you punish so severely the man who has printed the questions put to the women in the confessional, while you honour and let free, and often pay the men whose public and private life is spent in spreading tlie ver) same moral poison in a much more efficacious, scanda- lous and shameful way, under the sacrilegious mask ol religion ? The confessional is in the hands of the devil what West Point is to the United States, and Woolwich is to Great Britain, a training of the army to fight and conquer the enemy. It is in the confessional that 500,000 women every day. and 182.500,000 every year, are trained by the Pope in the art of fighting against God, by destroying themselves and the whole world, through evcr\- imagina l)le kind of impurity and filthiness. Once more, 1 request the legislators, the husbands, and the fathers in Europe, as well as in America, to read in Dens, Liguori, Debrcyne, in every theological book of Rome, what their wives and their daughters have to learn in the ( onfessional. In order to screen themselves, the j)riests of Rome have recourse to the following miserable snl)terfuge : — ** Is not the physician forced," tliey say, "to perform certain delicate ojjerationson women ? Do you complain of this? No ; you let the physicians alone; you do not abuse them in their anhious and conscientious duties. » . •>. o» ".1! K*> X If,. I 4f i '' # THIS l^»IMT, TM« >VOMA>>. Why, tlicn, do you insult the physician of the soul, tho confessor, in the accomplishment of his holy, thougii delicate, duties? I answer, fust, The art and science of the i)hysician are approved and praised in many places of the Scrip- tures. IJut the art and science of the confessor are no where to be found in the holy records. Auricular (on fession is nothing else than a most stui)endous im|j{)s- ture. The filthy and impure (juestions of the confessor, with the polluting answers they elicit, were put among the most diabolical and forbidden actions by Ciod Him- self the day that the Spirit of Truth, Holiness, vind Life wrote the imperishable words, — " Let no corrupt com- munication proceed out of your mouth " (Eph. iv. 29). Secondly, The physician is not bound by a solemn oath to remain ignorant of the things which it will be his duty to examine and cure. But the priest of Rome is bound, by the most ridiculous and impious oath of celibacy, to remain ignorant of the very things which are the daily objects of his inquiries, observations, and thoughts I The priest of Rome has sworn never to taste of the fruits with which he feeds his imagination, his memory, his heart, and his soul day and nii^ht ! The physician is honest in the performance of his duties ; but the priest of Rome becomes in fac«- a perjured man every time he enters the confessional-box. Thirdly, If a lady has a little sore on her small finger and is obliged to go to the physician for a remedy, she has only to show her little finger, allow the plaister or ointment to be applied, and all is finished. The physi- cian ?ily." Has any jjhysician ever been authorized to speak or act in this way with any of his female patients ? No ; never ! never ! But this is just the way the spiritual physician, with whom the devil enslaves and corrupts women, acts. When the fiiir, honest, and timid spiritual patient has come to her confeLsor, to show him the little sore she has on the small finger of her soul, the confessor is bound in conscience to suspect that sh.c has other sores,- - secret, shameful sores ! Yes, he is bound, nine times in ten ; and he is aticays alUnucd to suj^pose that she does not dare to reveal them ! Then he is advised by the Church to induce her to let him search every corner of the heart, and cf the soul, and to inquire about every kind of contaminations, impurities, secret and shameful I' ■> ' r ■ ' • i :)♦ -« I ..> •*#«« % w ni' \i i :f> 99 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAV, unspeakable matters ! Tlie yoimg priest is drilled in the (liabollral art of going into the most sarred recesses of the son I and the neart, almost in spite of his penitents. 1 iould bring hundreds of theologians as witnesses to what I say. — But it is enough just now to cite three. " Lest the Confessor should indolently hesitate in trac- ing out the circumstances of any sin, let him have the following versiclc of circumstances In readiness : " Quis, fjuid, ubi, quibus auxillis, cur, quomodo, ([uando. Who, which, where, Avith whom, why, how, when." (Dens, vol. C, p. 123. Ligi-ori, vol. 2, p. 464.) The celebrated book of the Priests, " The MiiTor of the Clerg}'," page 357, says : " Oportet ut Confessor solct cognoscere quid quid debet judicare. Deligcns igitur inquisitor et subtilis investiga- tor sapienter quasi astute interrogat a peccatore quod ignorat, vcl verecundia volit occultare." " It is necessary that the Confessor should know every- thing on which he has to exercise his judgment. Let him then, witli wisdom and subtillty, interrogate the sin- ners on the sins which he may ignore, or conceal througii shame ! " ' The poor, unprotected girl is thus thrown into the power of tlie priest, soul and body, to be examined on all the sins siie may •iinorc, or whi'.A, through shame, she may conceal ! On wnat boundless sea of depravity the poor fragile bark is launched by the priest ! On what bottomless abysses of impurities she will have to pass and travel, in comi)any with the priest alone, before he will have interrogated her on all the sins she may ignore, and wb.ich she may have conceded through shame 1 1 Who can tell the sentiments of surprise and lo the ;d on hame, [ravity On ive to jefore may ough and AND TIIK rONFF.SSlONAI. OF ROME. 79 i shame and distress, of a timid, hone: t young girl, when, ♦or the first time, she is initiated to infamies which arc ignored even in houses of prostitution ! ! ! But such is the practice, the sacred duty of the spirit- ual physician. ** Let him (tlie priest confessor) with wisdom and s»,btlety interrogate tlie sinner on the sins i.e may ignore or conceal with sliame.'' And there are 1 00,000 men, not only allowed, but petted, and often paid by the governments to do that, under the name of the (Jod of the Gospel ! Fourthly, I answer to the soj)hism of the priest, When the physician has any delicate and dangerous operation lo perform on a female patient, he is never alone ; the husband, or the father, the mother, the sister, or some friends of the patient are there, whose scrutinizing eyes and attentive ears make it impossible for the physician to say or do any improper thing. But, when the poor deluded spiritual patient comes to be treated by her so-called spiritual physician, and shows him her diseases, is she not alone — shamefully alone — wi.h him ? Where are the protecting ears of the hus- band, the father, the mother, the sisters, or the friends ? Where is the barrier interposed between this sinful, weak, tempted, and often depraved man and his victim ? Would the priest so freely ask this and that from that married woman, if he knew that the husband could hear him ? No, surely not ; for he is well aware that the enraged husband would blow out the brains of the villain who, under the sacrilegious pretext of purifying the soul of his wife, is filling her honest heart with every kind of pollution and infamy. Fifthly, When the physician performs a delicate opera- .1 :.f> .> » . "ii- \ ' 94 TMK rUir.ST, TMK WOMAX, tion on one of lirs female ])allents, the operation is usually ajTompanied with pain, cries, and often with bloodshed. The synijjalhetir and honest physician suffers almost as much pain as his jjatient ; those < ries, acute pains, tortures, and bleeding,' wcjunds make it morally imi)ossihle that the physieian should be templed to any improper thing. liUt the sight of the si)iritual wounds of that fair peni- tent I Is the poor depraved human heart really sorry to see and examine them ? Oh, no ! it is just the contra- ry! 'I'hc dear Saviour weeps over those wounds ; the angels are distressed at the sight. ^■es. IJut the deceitful and cornipt heart of man, is it not rather ai)t to be pleased at the sight of wounds which are so much like the ones he has himself so often been jjleased to receive from the hand of the enemy ? AVas the heart of David ])aincd and horror-struck at the sight of the fair r>ath-sheba, when imprudently and too freely exposed in her bath? Was not that holy ]>ro- ])het smitten and brought down to the dust by that guilty look ? ^^';ls not the mighty }.|ant, Samson, undone by the charms of Delilah ? Was not the wise Solomon en- snared and befooled in the midst of the vvomcn by whom he was surrounded ? Who will believe that the bachelors of the Pope are made of stronger metal than the Davids, the Samsons, and the Solomons ? Where is the man who has so com- pletely lost his common sense as to believe that the priests of Rome are stronger than Samson, holier than David, wiser than Solomon ? Who will believe that confessors will stand up on their feet amidst the storms »T„ AXn THE COM- ESS ION A L OV ROME. 9$ :k at and pro- guilty ic by in cn- •hom are isons, I com- the thnn ihuL torms which prostrate in the dust those giants of the armies of the Lord ? 'Jo suppose that, in the gencraHty of cases tlic confessor can resist the temptations by \vhi(-h he is daily surrounded in the confessional, that he will con- stantly refuse the golden (opportunities whidi olTer them- selves to liiin, to ;atisfy the almost irresistible ])ropensi- ties of his fallen human nature, is neither wisdom nor cha- rily ; it is sinii)ly folly. I do not say that all the co:''. «;sors and their female penitents fall into the same degree of abject degradation ; thanks be 'o (lod, I have known severr*' who nobly f(jught their battles and re jucred or ihat field of so many shameful defeats. Jkit iVc^' are the exceptions. It is just as when the ffrc hn?; inv.igcd one of our grand forests of America- how sad it is t ■ see the numberless noble trees fallen under the devouring clement ' I)Ut, here and there the traveller is not a little amazed and j^leased to find some which have j)roudly stood the fiery trial without being consumed. Has not the world at large been struck with terror wiien they heard of the fire which a few years ago had reduced the great city of Chicago to ashes? But those who have visited tliat doomed city, and seen the desola- ting ruins of her 16,000 houses, had to stand in .silent admiration before a few which, in the very midst of an ocean of fire, had escaped untouched by the destructive clement. It is so that, owing to a most marvellous protection of ('io:l, some ])rivileged souls do escape, here and there, the filial destruction »which overtakes so many others in the confessional. The confessional is just as the spider's web. How '» X IT r5 7 HI-. rRIEfiT, THF. WOMAN, |. many too unsuspectinj^ flics find death uhcn scekinij; rest on the beautiful framework of their deceitful enemy I How few escape ! and this only after a most desperate struggle. See how the perfidious spider looks harmless m his retired, dark comer ; how motionless he is ; how patiently he waits for his opportunity! But look how f{uickly he surrounds his victim with his silky, delicate, and imperceptible links ! how mercilessly he sucks its blood and destroys its life ! What does remain of the imprudent fly, after she has been entrapped into the nets of her foe ? Nothing but a skeleton. So it is with your fair wife, your precious daughter ; nine times in ten nothing but a moral skele- ton returns to you, after the Popes black spider has been allowed to suck the very blood of her heart and soul. Let those who would be tempted to think that I do exaggerate read the following extracts from the me-' moirs cf the Venerable Scipio de Ricci, Roman Catholic Bishop of Pistoia and Prato, in Italy. They were pub- lished by the Italian Government, to show to the world tliat some measures ought to be taken by the civil and ecclesiastical authorities to prevent the nation from being entirely swept away by the deluge of corruption flowing from the confessional, even among the most per- fect of Rome's followers, the monks and the nuns. 'Ihe priests have never dared to deny a single iota of those terrible revelations. In page 115 we read the following letter from Sister Flavia Peraccini, Prioress of St Cathe- rine, to Dr. Thomas Comparini, Rector of the Episcopal Seminary of Pistoia : — " yanuary 22, 1775. — In compliance with the request which you made me this day, I hasten to say something, but I know not how. ^ AMJ lliE CONl'LSSlOXAr OF KOME. 97 lucSL "Of those who arc gone out of the world I shall say notiiing. U( tiiosc who arc still alive and have very little decency of conduct there are many, among whom there is an ex-j)ro\incial named Father Dr. ]iallendi, Calvi, Zoratti, Bigliaci, Guidi, IMiglieti, Verde, Bianchi, Ducci, Scraphini, ]Jolla, Nera di Luca, Quarctti, &c. But wherefore any more ? AVith the exception of three or four, all those whom I have ever known, alive or dead, are of tlie same character ; they have all the same maxims and the same conduct. " They are on more intimate terms with the nuns than if they were married to them ! I repeat it, it would re- quire a great deal of time to tell half of what I know. It is the custom now, when they come to visit and hear the confession of a sick sister, to sup with the nuns, sing, vlance, play, and sleep in the convent. It is a maxim of theirs that God has forbidden hatred, but fiot love, -and that man is made for woman and woman for man. '* 1 say that they can deceive the innocent and the most prudent and circumspect, and that it would be a miracle to converse »\ ith them and not fall ! " Page 1 1 7.- -"The priests are the husbands of the nuns, and the lay brothers of the lay sisters. In the chamber of one oi the nuns I have mentioned, one day, a man was found ; lie fled away, but, soon after, they gave him to us as our confessor extraordinary. " How many bishops are there in the Papal States, who have come to the knowledge of those disorders, have held examinations and visitations, and yet never:., could remedy it, because the monks, our confessors, tell us tj.ia' vhose are excommunicated who reveal what passes in the Order ! • ■ . t :>» .> («*■«« I? ii, f ' . -^t' 98 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, " Poor creatures ! they think they are leaving the world to ^ficape clangers, and the\ only meet with greater ones. Our fathers and mothers have given us a good education, a'^d here we have to unlearn and forget what they have taught us." Page 118. — " Do not suppose that this is the case in our convent alone. It is just the same at St. Lucia, Prato, Pisa, Perugia, &c, I have known things that would astonish you. Everywhere it is the same Yes, everywhere the same disorders, the same abuses prevail. 1 say, and I repeat it, let the superiors suspect as they may, they do n«t know the smallest part of the enormous wickedness that goes on between the monks and the nuns whom they confess. Kvery monk who passed by on his way to the chai)ter entreated a sick sister to con- fess to him, and ! " Page 119. — "With respect to Father Ijuzachini I say that he acted just as the others, sitting up late in the nunnery, diverting himself, and letting the usual dis- orders go on. There w-ere several nuns who had love affairs on his account. His own principal mistress was Odaldi, of St. Lucia, who used to send him continual treats. He was also in love with the daughter of our factor, of whom they were very jealous here. He ruined also poor Cancellieri, who was sextoness. The monks are all alike with their jjcnitents. " Some years ago, the nuns of St. Vincent, in conse- (juence of the extraordinary passion they had for their father confessors Lupi and Borghiani, were divided into two parties, one calling themselves Le Lupe, the other Le Borghieni. " He who made the greatest noise was Donati. I AND THE roNlESSION'AT- OF KO^rE. 99 love 1 was Rial our incd )nks |>nsc- Lheir I into khcr bciieve he is now at Rome. Father Brnndi, too, was also in great vogue. I think he is now prior of St. Gemignani. At St. Vincent, which passes for a very holy retreat, they have also their lovers " My pen refuses to reproduce several things which the nuns of Italy have published against their father confessors. But this is enough to show to the most incredulous that the confession is nothing else but a school of perdition, even among those who make a pro- fession to live in the highest regions of Roman Catholic holiness — the monks and the nuns. Now, from Italy let us go to America and see again the w^orkmg of auricular confession, not between the holy (?) nuns and monks of Rome, but among the hum- blest classes of countr)- women and priests. Great is the number of parishes where women have been des- troyed by their confessors, but I will speak only of one. When curate of Beauport, I was called by the Rev. Mr. Proulx, curate of St. Antoine, to preach a retreat (a revival) with the Rev. Mr. Aubry, to his parishioners, and eight or ten other priests were also invited to come and help us to hear the confessions. The ver}- first day after preaching and passing five or si.x hours in the confessional, the hospitable curate gave us a supper before going to bed. But it was evident that a kind of uneasiness pervaded the whole company of the father confessors. For my own part, I could hardly raise my eyes to look at my neighbour, and when I wanted to speak a word it seemed that my tongue was not free as usual ; even my throat Avas as if it were choked ; the articulation of the sounds was imperfect. It was evidently the same with the rest of the priests. Instead, at. , ^ih lOO THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, \V- ) then, of the noisy and cheerful conversation of the other meals, there were only a few insignificant words exchanged with a half supressed tone. The Rev. Mr. IVoulx (the (urate) at first looked as if he were part^*king also of that singular though general despondent feeling. During the first part of the luni h he hardly said a word ; but at last, raising his head, and turning his honest face towaids us, in his usual gentle- manly and cheerful manner, he said : — "Dear friends, I see that you aie all under the influ- ence of the most painful feelings. There is a burden on you that you can neither shake off nor bear as you wish. I know the cause of your trouble, and I hope you will not find fault with me if I helj) you to recover from that disagreeable mental condition. You have heard in the confessional the history of many great sins, but I know that this is not what troubles you. You are all old enough in the confessional to know the miseries of poor human nature. Without any more preliminaries I will come to the subject. It is no more a secret in this place that one of the priests who has preceded me has been very unfortunate, weak, and guilt> with the great- est part of the married women whom he has confessed. Not more than one in ten have escaper^ him. I would not mention this tact had 1 got it only from the confes- sional, but I know it well from other sou^'ce*^, and I can speak of it freely without breaking the secret seal of the confessional. Now what troubles you is that, probably, when a good number of those women have confessed to you what they had done with their confessor, you have not asked them how long it was since they had sinned with him, and in spite of yourselves you think that 1 am AND THE CONTFESRION'AL OF ROME XOl nflu- n on vish. I will that n the know I old poor [ will this e has reat- ssed. ivould nfes- 1 can f the ably, cd to have inncd 1 am the guilty man. This docs, natii'ally, embarrass you when you are in my presence and at my table. Jlut please ask them, when they come again to confess, how many montht or years have passed away since their last love aflair with a coiifessor, and you will see that you may suppose that you are in tlie house of an honest man. You may look me in the face and have no fear to address me as if I were still worthy of your esteem ; for, thanks be to God, I am not the guilty ])riest who has ruined and destroyed so many souls here." The curate had hardly pronounced the last word when a general '' We tliank you ; for you have taken awav a mountahi from our shoulders," foil from almost every lip. " It is a fact that, notwithstanding the good opinion we had of you," said several, '* we were in fear that you had missed the right track, and fallen down with your fair penitents into the ditch." I felt myself much relieved ; for I was one of those who, in spite of myself, had my secret fears about the honest}' of our host. When, very early the next morn- ing, I had begun to hear the confessions, one of those unfortunate victims of the confessor's depravity came to me, and in the midst of many tears and sobs, she told me with great details what I repeat here in a few l-nes : — " I was only nine years old when my first confessor began to do very criminal things with me when I was at his feet, confessing my sins. At first I was ashamed and much disgusted ; but soon after I became so dejiraved that I was looking eagerly for every opportunity of meet- ing him cither in his own house, or in the church, in the vestry, and many times in his own garden when it was dark at night. That priest did not remain very long ; ;:i! .j" I. ' joa THK PRIE3T, THE WOMAN, t i^i if' he was removed, to my great regret, to another place, where he died. He was succeeded by p.nother cne, who seemed at first to be a rery holy man. I made to him a general confession with, it seems to me, a sincere de- sire to give up for ever that sinful life, but I fear that my confessions became a cause of sin to that good priest ; for not long after my confession was finished, he declared to me in the confessional his love, with such passionate words that he soon brought me down again into my former criminal habits with him. This lasted six years, when my parents removed to this place. I was \cry glad of it, for I hojjed that, being far away from him, I should not be any more a cause of sin to him, and that I might begin a better life. But the fourth time that T went to confess to my new confessor, he invited me to go to his room, where we did things so horrible together that I do not know how to confess them. It was two days before my marriage, and the only child I have had is the fruit of that sinful hour. After my marriage I continued the same criminal life with my confessor. He was the friend of my husband ; we had many opportunities of meeting each other, not only when I was going to confess, but when my luisband was absent and my child was at school. It was evident to me that several other women were as miserable and criminal as I was myself This sinful intercourse with my confessor went on till God Almighty stoj^i^ed it with a real thunderbolt. My dear only daughter ha,d gone to confess and receive the holy com- munion. As she had rome back from church much later tlian I expected, I inquired the reason which had kept her so long. She then threw herself into my arms, and with convulsive cries said : * Dear mother, do not ask me any more to go to confess Oh'I if you could AND THF CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 103 know what my confessor lias atkcd me when i was at his feet ! and if you could know what he has done with me, and he has forced me to do with him when he had me alone in his parlour ! ' " My poor child could not speak any longer, she fainted in my arms. " But as soon as she recovered, without losmg a minute, I dressed myself, and, full of an inexpressible rage, I directed my steps towards the parsonage. But before leaving my house, 1 had concealed under my shawl a sharp butcher's knife to .stab and kill the villain who had destroyed my dearly beloved child. Fortu- nately for that priest, God changed my mind before I entered his room — my words to him were few and sharp. * You are a monster ! ' I said to him. ' Not satisfied to have destroyed me, you want to destroy my own dear child, which is yours also ! Shame upon you ! I had come 'with this knife to put an end to your infamies, -but so short a punishment would be too mild a one for such a monster. I want you to live, that you may bear upon your head the curse of the too unsuspecting and un- guarded friends whom you have so cruelly deceived and betrayed ; I want you to live with the consciousness that you are known by me and many others^ as one of tlie most infamous monsters who have ever defiled this world. But know that if you are not away from this place before the end of this week, 1 will reveal every- thing to my husband, and you may be sure that he will not let you live twenty-four hours longer, for he sincerely thinks that 'your daughter is his, and he will be the avenger of her honour ! I go to denounce you this very day to the bishop, that he may take you away irom this parish, which you have so sliamelessly polluted.' -M ;> i 14 I I'r X04 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, " The priest threw himself at my feet, and, with tears, asked my pardon, imploring me not to denounce him to the bishoj), promising that he would change his life and begin to live as a good priest. But I remained inexora- ble. I went to the bishop, made my deposition, and warned his lordship of the sad consequences whidi would follow, if he kept that curate any longer in ihis place, as he seemed inclined to do. But before the eight days had expired, he was put at the head of another ])arish, not very far away from here." The reader will, perhaps, like to know what has become of this priest. He has remained, at the head of that most beautiful parish of , as curate, where I know it, he continued to destroy his penitents, till a few years before he died, with the reputation of a good priest, an amiable man, and a holy confessor !" " For the mystery of iniquity doth already work : . . . . " And then shall that Wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of Ilis mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of His coming : " Even Him, whose coming is after the working of Satan with all power and signs and lying wonders, " And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish ; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. ''And for this cause God shall send them strong delu- sion, that they should believe a lie : "That they all might be damned who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness." (2 Thess. ii. 7 — 12.) AND THE CONTEbSIONAL 01 ROME;. «o5 CHArTER VIII. SHOULD AURICULAR CONFESSION r.V. TOLF.RATKD AMONO CTVILTZKD NATIONS ? of clii- not Let my readers who understand Latin peruse tne ex- tracts I give from Bisliop Kenrick, Dchreyne, r>urf:hard, Dens or Liguori, and the most incredi'ious will learn for themselves that the world, even in the darkest ages of old paganism, has never seen anything so infamous anil degrading as auricular confession. To say that auricular confession purifies the soul is not less ridiculous and silly than to say that the white robe of the virgin, or the lily of the valley, will become whiter by being dipped into a bottle of black ink. Has not the Pope's celibate, by studying his books before he goes to the confessional-box, corrupted his own heart, and plunged his mind, memory, and soul into an atmosphere of impurity which would have been in- tolerable even to the people of Sodom ? Wc ask it not only in the name of religion, but of common sense. IIow can that man, w^ose heart and memory are just made the reservoir of all the grossest impurities the world has ever known, help others to be chaste and pure ? The idolaters of India believe that they will be puri- fied from their sins by drinking the water with which they have just washed the feet of their priests. I-P: , 1'. Tr 1 06 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, What monstrous doctrine ! Tlie souls of men puri- fied by the water which has washed the feet of a miser able, sinful man ! Is there any religion more monstrous and diabolical than the Brahmin religion ? Yes, there is one more monstrous, deceitful, and con taminating than that. It is the religion which teaches that the soul of man is purified by a few magical words (called absolution), which come from the lips of a miser- able sinner, whose heart and intelligence have just been filled by the unmentionable impurities of Dens, Liguori, Debreyne, Kenrick, &c., &:c. For if the poor Indian's soul i^ not purified by the drinking of the holy (?) water which has touched the feet of his priest, at least that soul, cannot be contaminated by it. But who docs not clearly see that the drinking of the vile questions of the confessor contaminate, defile, and damn the soul ? Who has not been filled with deep compassion and pity for those poor idolaters of Hindustan who believe that they \y\\\ secure to themselves a happy passage to the next life if they have the good luck to die when holding in their hands the tail of a cow ? But there are people among us who are not less worthy of our supreme compassion and pity, for they hope that they will be purified from their sins and be for ever hapi)y if a few magical wortls (called absolution) fall upon their souls from the polluted lips of a miserable sinner sent by the Pope of Rome. The dirty tail of a cow and the magical words of a confessor to purify the souls and wash away the sins of the world are equally inventions of the Devil. Both religions come from Satan, for they equally substi- tute the magical power of vile creatures for the blood of Christ to save the guilty children of Adam. Tbpy both , AND I'HE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 107 and i<;n()ro that the blood of the Lamb alone cleanscth us Iroiii all sin. \'es ! auricular confession Is a public act of idolatry. it is asking from a man what God alonty through His Son Jesus, can grant : forgiveness of sins. Has the Saviour of the world ever said to sinners, " Go to this or that man for repentance, pardon, and peace " ? No ; but He has said to all sinners, " Come unto Me." And from that day to the end of the world all the echoes of heaven and earth will repeat these \\ords of the merciful Saviour to all the lost children of Ada.n, 'Come unto Me.' When Christ save to His disciple* the power of the keys in these \r 'ds, *' Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" (Matt, xviii. 18), He had just explained His mind by saying, " If thy brother shall trespass against thee " (v. 1 5). The Son of God Himself in that solemn hour protested against the stupendous imposture of Rome by telling us positi- vely that that power of binding and loosing, forgiving and retaining sins, was 07ily in reference to sins com- mitted against each other. Peter had correctly under- stood his Master's wi>rds when he asked, " How oft shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him ? " And in order that His true disciples might not be shaken by the sophisms of Rome, or by the glittering nonsense of that band of silly half-Popish sect called Tractarians, or Ritualists, the merciful Saviour gave the admirable parable of the poor servant, which He closed by what He has so often repeated, " So likewise shall my Heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." (Matt, xviii. 35) \\ ■■«u^ ■^■ ^ If If.. . i]:: !'■■ \i rK xo8 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, Not long before, He had again mercifully given us rlis whole mind about the obligation and powrr which every one of His desciplcs had of forgiving : " J 'or if ye forgive even their trespasses, your Heavenly 1" at her will also for- give you : but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses " (Matt, vi. 14, 15). " lie ye therefore merciful as your father also is merciful, forgive and ye shall be forgiven " (Luke vi. 3^N 37)- Auricular Confession, as the Kev. Dr. WainwriTnt has so eloquently put it in his "Confession not Auricular," is a diabolical caricature of the forgiveness of sin through the blood of Christ, just as the impious dogma of Trau- substantiation is a monstrous caricature of the salvation of the world through His death. The Romanists and their ugly tail, the Ritualistic party in the Episcopal Church, make a great noise about the words of our Saviour in St. John : " Whose soever sins ye remit, they arc remitted unto them : and whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained " (John xx. 23). But again, our Saviour had Himself, once for all, explained what He meant by forgiving and retaining sins — (Matt, xviii. 35; Matt, vi, '.4, 15; Luke vi. 3,6, 37)- Nobody but wilfully-blind men could misunderstand Him. Besides that, the Holy Ghost Himself has merci- fully taken care that we should not be deceived by the lying traditions of men on that important subject, when in St. Luke He gave us the explanation of the meaning of John XX. 23, by telling us, " Thus it behoved Christ to suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day : and ' ll IS 3.6, Ining Ihrist and AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF KOMK 109 that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in I lis name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem " (Luke xxiv. 46, 47). In order that wc may better understand the words of our Saviour in St. John xx. 23, let us put them face to face with his own explanations (Luke xxiv. 46, 47) : — LUKE XXIV. 3_V Anc'. ihi-y rose up the same hour, and riturncd to Jerusalem, and found the eleven tjathered together, and them that were with them, 34. Saying, The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon 36. And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the midst of tiiem, and sailh unto them, Peace Ic unto you. 37. But they were terrified and affrighted, and supposed that they had seen a spirit. 38. And he said unto them. Why are ye troubled ? and why do thoughts arise in your hearts ? 39. litiiold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me, and see ; for a spirit hath not llesh and bones, as ye see me have. 40. Antl when he had thus spoken, he shewed ihem his hands and his feet. 41. And while they yet be- lieved not for joy, and wondered, he said unto them, Have ye here any meat ? 42. And they gave him a piece of a broiled fish, and of an honey- comb. 43. And he took it, and did cat before them. 44. And he said unto them', These are the words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be JOHN XX. 18. Mary Magdalene came and told the «liseiple.s that she had seen the Lord, and tliat he had spoken these things unto her. 19. Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and ctood in Ihe midst, and saith Peace be unto you. unto them. 20. And when he had so said, he shewed unto them his hands and his side. Then were the disciples glad, ishcn thpy saw the Lord. 21. Then Said Jesus %o "them again, Peace be unto you : as my Father hath send I you. sent me. even so '¥ Mr Is If:^ si 1 TIO THK PRlESr, THE WOMAN, LUKE XXIV. JOHN XX. fulfilled, which were wrilten in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me. 45. 'J'hen .opened he their 22. And when he had said understanding, that they might this, he breathed on them, and understand the scriptures, saith unt., them, Receive ye the 46. And said unto tliem, Holy Ghost : Thus it is w.itten, and thus it l)elu)ved Christ to suffer, and to rise from ih.e dead the third day : 47. And that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. 23. Whose soever sins ye re- mit, they are remitted unto them; whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained. Three things are evident from comparing the rei)ort of St. John and St. Luke : — 1. They speak of the same event, though one of tliem gives certain details omitted by the other, as we iind in the rest of the gospels. 2. The words of St. John, " Whose soever sins ye re- mit, they are remitted unto them ; and whose soever sins ye retain, they arc retained," are explained by the Holy (Ihost Himself, in St. Luke, as meaning that the apostles shall preach repentance and forgiveness of sins through Christ. It is just what our Saviour has Himself said in St. Matt. ix. 13 : " Lut go ye and learn what that mcaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice : for I am not come to call thg righteous, but sinners to repentance.'' It is just the same doctrine taught by Peter (Acts ii. 38): ."Then Peter said unto them, Repent, ^nd be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." Just the same doctrine of the forgiveness of sins, not AND THE CONFESSIONAL OK ROME. m ^> rc- through auricular confcssion or absolution, but through the prehching of tlie Word : " Be it known unto you thcrt:fore, n:cn and brethren, tliot through this man is l)roached unto you the forgiveness of sins " (Acts xiii. 38). 3. The third thing wliich is evident is that the Ajjos- tles were not alone when Christ appeared and spoke, but that several of His other disciples, even some \v(3men, were Lhere. If the Romanists, then, could prove that Christ estab- lished auricular confession, and gave the power of abso- lution, by what He said in that solemn hour, women as well as men — in fact, every believer in Christ — would be authorized to hear confessions and give absolution. The Holy (iiiost was not promised or given only to the Apostles, but to every believer, as we see in Acts i. 15, and ii. i, 2, 3. But the Gospel of Christ, as the history of the first ten centuries of Christianity, is the witness that auricular confession and absolution are nothing else but a sacrile- gious ius well as a most stupendous imposture. What tremendous eflbrts the priests of Rome have made tliese last five centuries, and are still making, to 'per ,uade their dupej chat the Son of God was making of them a })riv)leged caste, a caste endowed with the Divine and exclusive power of opening and shutting the gates of Heaven, when He said, " Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatsoever ye shall hjcse on earth shall be loosed in Heaven." ' But our adorable Saviour, who perfectly foresaw those diabolical efforts on the part of the priests of Rome, entire)}' upset every vestige of their foundation by say- ing immediately, " Again I say unto you, That if two of :1 r-^m 4» h 1 12 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, ycni shall agree on earth as touching any tiling that they shall ask, it shall be done for tiiein of my leather which is in Heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them " (^Matt. xviii. 19, 20). \\'ould the priests of Rome attcmi)t to make us be- lieve that these wordr: of the 19th and 20th verses are addressed to them exclusively ? They have not yet dared to say it. They confess that these words are addressed to all His disciples. But our Saviour positi- vely says that the other words, implicating the so-called power of the priests to hear the confession and give the absolution, are addressed to the very same persons — •' I say unto you," &:c., &:c. The you of the 19th and 20th verses is the aairiG you of the iSth. The power of loos- ing and unloosing is, then, given to all — those whu would be offended and would forgive. Then, our Saviour had not in His mind to form a caste of men with any marvellous power over the rest of His disciples. The priests of Rome, then, are impostors, and nothing else, when ihey say that the power of loosing and un- loosing sins was exclusively granted to them. Instead of going to the confessor, let the Christian go to his merciful God, through Christ, and say, " P'orgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us." This is the Truth, not as it comes from the Vati- can, but as it comes from Calvary, where our debts were paid, with the only condition that we should believe, repent, and love. Have not the Popes publicly and repeatedly anathe- matized the sacred principle of Liberty of Conscience ? Have they not boldly said, in the teeth of the nations of AND THE CUXFESSIONAI. OF ROME. I»3 Europe, iliut Z/i^tv/j- of Conscience must be destroyed--. killed at any cost ? Has not the whole world heard the sentence of death to Liberty coming from the lips of the old man of the Vatican? P.ut where rs the scaffold on which the doomed Liberty must i)erish ? That scaffold is the confessional-box. Ves, in the confessional, the Pope had his loo.ooo liigh executioners ! There they are, day and night, with sharp daggers in hand, stabbing Liberty to the heart- In vain will noble France expel her old tyrants to be free ; in vain will she shed the purest blood of her heart to protect and save Liberty ! 'J'rue Liberty cannot live a day there so long as the executioners of the Pope are free to stab her on their 100,000 scaffolds. In vain chivalrous Spain will call Liberty to give a new life to her people. She cannot set her feet there except to die, so long as the Pope is allowed to strike her in his 50,000 confessionals. And free America, too, will see all her so dearly- bought liberties destroyed the day that the confesslonal- box is reared in her midst Auricular Confession and Lib>erty cannot stand to- gether on the same ground ; either one or the other must fall. I liberty must sweep away the confessional, as she has swept away the demon of slaver}-, or she is doomed to perish. Can a man be free in his own house, so long as tncrc is another who has the legal riglit to spy all his actions, .\nd direct not on!y every step, ])ut every thought of his wife and children? Can that man boast of a home \\ho6Q wife and chiluitd arc under tjic cuntrol of an- I : 1' - rsi^i :3 .> I. b 114 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, I 1^: Other ? Is not that unfortunate man really the slave of the ruler and master of his household ? And when a whole nation is comj)osed of such husbands and fathers, is it not a nation of aliject, degraded slaves ? To a thinking man, one of the most strange pheno- mena is that our modern nations allow all their most sacred rights to be trampled under feet, and destroyed by the Papacy, the sworn enemy of Liberty, through a mistaken respect and love for that same Liberty ! No people have more respect for Liberty of Con. science than the Americans ; but has the noble State of Illinois allowed Joe Smith and Brigham Young to de- grade and enslave the American women under the pre- text of Liberty of Conscience, api)ealed to by the so- called " Latter-day Saints ? "' No ! The ground was soon made too hot for the tender conscience of the modem prophets. Joe Smith perished when attempting to keep his captive wives in his chains, and Brigham Young had to fly to the solitudes of the Far West, to enjoy what he called his liberty of conscience with the thirty women he had degraded and enchained under his yoke. But even in that remote solitude the false pro- phet has heard the distant peals of the roaring thunder. The threatening voice of the great Republic has troubled his rest, and he wisely speaks of going as much as pos- sible out of the reach of Christian civilization, before the dark and threatening clouds which he sees on the horizon will hurl upon him their irresistible storms. . Will any one blame the American people for so going to the rescue of woman ? No, surely not. But what is this confessional-box? Nothing but a citadel and stronghold of Mormonism. AND THE CONFESSIONAl OF RjOME. "5 What is this Father Confessor, with few exceptions, but a lucky Brigham Young ? I do not want to be believed on my ipse dixit. "What I ask from serious thinkers is, that they should read the encyclicals of the Piuses, the Gregor>-s, the Benoits, and many other Popes, " De Sollicitantibus." There they will see, with their own eyes, that, as a general thing, the confessor has more women to serve him than the IMormon prophets ever had. Let them read the memoirs of one of the most venerable men of the Church of Rome, Bishop de Ricci, and they will see, with their own eyes, that tlie confessors are more free with their penitents, even nuns, than husbands are with their wives. Let them hear the testimony of one of the noblest princesses of Italy, Henrietta Carraciolo, who still hves, and they will know that the Mormons have more respect for women than the greater part of the confessors have. Let them hear the lamentations -of Cardinal Baronius, Saint Bernard, Savanarola, Pius, Ciregory, St. Therese, St. Liguori, on the unspeakable and irreparable ruin spread all along the ways and all over the countries haunted by the Pope's confessors, and they will know that the confessional-box is the daily witness of abominations which would hardly have been tolerated in the lands of Sodom and Gomorrha. Let the legislators, the fathers and husbands of every nation and tongue, interrogate Father Gavazzi, Hyacinthe, and the thousands of livivg priests who, like myself, have miraculously been taken out from that Eg}'ptian servi- tude to the promised land, and they will tell you the same old, old story — that the confessional box is for the greatest part of the confessors and female penitents, a real pit of perdition, into which they promiscuously fall I, V;; ;ir * i! C: ■ If, .. r. ,|*MVJ ■•tr I ii6 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, and pcrisU. Yes ; they will tell you that the soul and heart of your wife and daughter are purified by the magi- cal words of the c onfessional, just as the souls of the poor idolaters of Hindoostan are |)urified by the tail of the cow which they hold in their hands when they die. Study the pages of the past history of England, France, Italy, Spain, 6ic., &c., and you will see that the gravest and most rcl'.abh historians have everywhere found mysteries of iniquity in the confessional-box which their pen refused co trace. In the presence of such public, undenial^le, and lamen- table facts, have not the civilized nations a duty to per- form ? Is it not time tliat the children of light, the true disciples of the Gospel, all over the world, should rally round llie banners of Christ, and go, shoulder to should- er, to the rescue of women ? Woman is to society what the roots are to the most precious trees of your orchard. If you knew that a thousand worms are biting the root of those noble trees, that their leaves are already fading away, their rich fruits, though yet unripe, are falling on the ground, would you not unearth the roots and sweep away the worms ? The confessor is the worm which is biting, polluting, and destroying the very roots of civil and religious soci- ety, by contaminating debasing, and enslaving woman. Before the nations can see the reign of peace, happi- ness, and liberty, which Christ has promised, they must, like the Israelites, pull down the walls of Jericho. The confessional is the modern Jericho, which proudly and defiantly dares the children of God I Let, then, the people of the Lord, the true soldiers of TW AND tHK CON SESSIONAL OF ROMK. 117 Chn'st, rise up and rally around His banners ; and let them fearlessly march, shoulder to shoulder, on the doomed city: let all the trumpets of Israel be sounded around its walls : let fervent i)rayers go to the throne of Mercv, from the heart of every one for whom the Lamb has been slain : let such a unanimous cry of indignation be heard, through the length and breadth of Ihe land, against that greatest and most monstrous imposture of modern times, that the earth will tremble under the feet of the confessor, so that his very knees will shake, and soon the walls of Jericho will fall, the confessional will disappear, and its unspeakable pollutions will no more imperil the very existance of :. jciety. Then the multitudes who were kept captive will come to the Lamb, who will make them jmre with His blooB and free with His word. ■. Then the redeemed nations will sing a song of joy: '' Babylon, the great, the mother of harlots and abomi- nations of the earth, is fallen I fallen ! " ■I I ^oci- Hf- V** 1' ^ppi- UlSt, iThe and :3» rs of m ii8 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, • ••••••• ■ ».»^t • «a*«»4aA* •■•■•«•■«•• •-•.»• a • a • » ataM*aflf>» 4 • -« • »•••«••'" -•-♦-•-»♦ -•-•'-•■ % ' • • • •-• «. • • «s* • .A..«-.*.jft A..^ -a-*.*...*.^^*.*^'* AA « ^» ■ 4 «..t «.*--«.■«-' I «••*•• •••••• ••«••-'**•• v^'r •-•••*•• *• « • • ft "TWj AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 119 CHAPTER Vin. DOES AURICULAR CONFESSION BRING PEACE TO THE SOUL ? The connecting of Peace with Auricular Confession is surely the most cruel sarcasm ever uttered in human language. It would be less ridiculous and false to admire the calmness of the sea, and the stillness of the atmosphere, when a furious storm raises the foaming waves to the skies, than to speak of the Peace of the soul either during or after the confession. I know it ; the confessors and iheirdupes chorus every tune by crying "Peace, peace"! But the God of truth and holiness answers, * There is no peace for the wicked!" The fact is, that no human words can adequately express the anxieties of the soul before confession, its unspeakable confusion in the act of confessing, or its deadly terrors after confession. Let those who have never drunk of the britter -waters which flow from the confessional box, read the following plain and correct recital of my own first experiences in auricular confession. They are nothing else than the history of what nine tenths of the penitents* of Rome old and young are subject to; and they will know what to think * By the word J>eniients, Rome means not those who repent, but those who confess to the priest. '^ ; 1 "PI 1 t 1 t 1: '/■ \ ft It 1 1' I Tao TH?! PRIEST, THE WOMAN, of that marvellous Peace about wbich the Romanist!?^ and their silly copyists, the Ritualists, have written so many eloquent lies. Jn the year 1S19, my parents had sent me from Mur- ray Bay (La Mai Baie) where they lived, to an excellent school, at St. Thomas. I was then, about ten years o'd. I boarded with an uncle, who, though a nominal Rciiiaii Catholic, did not believe a word of what his priest l)reached. Hut my Aunt had the reputation of being a very devoted woman. Our School-master, Mr. John Jones, was a well educated Englishman : and a staunch PROTESTANT. This last circumstance had excited the wrath of the Roman Catholic Priest against the teacher and his numerous pupils to such an extent, that they were often denounced from the jjuljjit wilii very hard words, Lut if he did not like us, 1 must admit that we were paying him with his own coin. But let us come to my first lesson in Auricular Confes- sion, No ! No words can express to those wlio have never had any experience in the matter, the consternation^ anxiety and shame of a poor Romish child, when he hears his priest saying from the pulpit, in a grave and solemn tone ; "This w'eek, you will send your children " to confession. Make them understand that this action " is one of the most important of their lives, that for " every one of them, it will decide their eternal happi- " ness or ruin. Fathers, Mothers and guardians of those " children, if, through your fault or theirs, your children " are guilty of a false confession : if they do not confess " every thing to the priest who holds the place of Cod *' Himself, this sin is often irreparable : the Devil will *' take possession of their hearts : they will lie to their " father confessor, or rather to Jesus Christ, of whom he w% ANI> lilt: CONFESSIONAL uK KuMf. t'J I oTifes- have lation? en he and ildrcn action at f(M lappl- thoso ildrcn onfcss ■ Cod I Avill ) their om he v^^ "is the representative: Their lives will be a series of *' sacrileges, their death and eternity, those of reprobates^ " Teach them therefore to examine thoroughly all their "actions, words, thoughts and desires, in order to (on- " fess every thing just as it occurred, without any ''disguise." I Avas in the Church of St. Thomas, when these words fell upon me like a thunderbolt. I had often heard my mother say, when at home and my aunt, since I had come to St. Thomas, that upon the first ct)nfession depended my eternal happiness or misery. 'JMiat week was, therefore, to decide the vital question of my eternity ! Pale and dismayed, I left the church after the service, and returned to the house of my relations. I took my place at the table, but could not eat, so much was I troubled. I went to my room for the purpose of com- mencing my examination of conscience, and to try to recall every one of my sinful actions, thoughts and words ! Although scarcely over ten years of age, this task was really overwhelming to me. 1 knelt down to pray to the Virgin Mary for help, but I was so much taken up with the fear of forgetting something or making a bad confes- sion, that I muttered my prayers without the least attention to what I said. It became still worse, when I commenced counting my sins, my memory, though very good, became confused : my head grew dizzy : my heart beat with a rapidity which exhausted me, and my brow was covered with perspiration. After a considerable length of time, spent in tho o painful efforts, I felt bordering on despair from the fear that it was impossible for me to remember exactly every thing, and to confess each sin as it occurred. The night following was almost a sleepless one: and when sleep did come, it could *V '***:• ,v;!(t > r 122 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, hardly be called sleep, but a sufibcating delirium. In a frightful dream, I felt as if I had been cast into hell, for not having confessed all my sins to the priest. In tlie morning, 1 awoke fatigued, and prostrate by the pliantoms and emotions of that terrible night. In similar troubles of mind were passed the three days which precceded my llrst confession. I liad constantly before me the countenance of that stern priest who had never smiled upon me. He was present to my thoughts during the days, and in my dreams during the nights, as the minister of an angry God, justly irritated against me, on account of my sins. Forgiveness had indeed been promised to me, on condition of a good confession; but my place had also been shown to nve in hell, if my confession was not as near perfection as possible. Now, my troubled conscience told me that there were ninety chances against one that my confession would be bad, either if by my own fault, I forget some sins, or if I was without that contrition of which I had heard so much, but the nature and effects of which were a perfect chaos in my mind. At length came the day of confession, or rather of judgment and condemnation. I presented myself to the priest, the i', J "» ■ ■ ' AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 123 parishioners of villages, with similar results. Indeed, many of them ramc from considerable distances to enjoy the anuisement of listening to me, and they rewarded me, more than once, with cakes of ma[)le sugar, for my performances. These ac^s of mimicry were, of course, among my sins ; and it became necessary for me to examine myself upon the number of times I had mocked the priests. This ( ircumslancc was not calculated to make my confession easier or more agreeable. At last, the dread moment arrived, I knelt for the first time, at the side of my confessor, my whole frame trembled : 1 repeated the prayer preparatory to confes- sion, scarcely knowing what I said, so much was I troubled by fears. J'y the instructions which had been given us before conlession, we had been made to believe that the priest was the true representative, yea, almost the personilication of Jesus Christ. The consequence was that I believed my greatest sin was that of mocking the priest — and I, as I had been told that it was proper first to confess the greatest sins, I commenced thus : " Father, I accuse myself of having mocked a priest ! " Hardly had I uttered these words, " mocked a priest ", when this pretended representative of the humble Jesus, turning towards me, and looking in my face, in order to know me better, asked abruptly ; " what priest did you mock, my boy ?" 1 would have rather chosen to cut my o^vn tongue than to tell him to his face who it was. I, therefore, kept silent for a while, but my silence made him very nervous, and almost angry. With a haughty tone of voice, he said : " what priest did you take the liberty of *¥ n ^1! r*"*!* ;P 1,'' 11/ T?4 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, r .::• fi 1^ 'I M thus mocking, my boy ?" I saw that I had to answer. Happily his hauglitiness had made me bolder and firmer ; I said : sir, you are the priest wliom I mocked !" " But how many times did you take upon you to mock me, my boy ?" asked he angrily. " I tried to find out the number of .tiuies, but I never could. * " You must tell me how many times, for to mock one's own priest is a great sin." " It is impossible for me to give you the number of times," I answered. " Well, my child, I will help your memory by asking you questions. Tell me the truth. Do you think you mocked me ten times ?" " A great many times more ;" I answered. " Have you mocked me fifty times ?" " Oh ! many more still 1" " A hundred times ?" " Say, five hundred, and perhaps more ;" I answered. Well, my boy, do you spend all your time in mocking me ?" " Not all my time : but unfortunately, I have done it very often." "Yes may you say: "unfortunately!" for to mock, your priest, who holds the place of our Lord Jesus Christ, is a great sin and a great misfortune for you. But tell me, my little boy, what reason have you for mocking me, thus ?" In my examination of conscience, I had not forseen that I should be obliged to give the reasr:;3 for mocking the priest, and I was thunderstruck by his (pcstions, T dared not answer, and I remained for a long time dumb, from the shame that overpowered me. But, with a ■'« "Tm AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. ^-5 harassing perseverance, the priest insisted upon my tell- ing why I had mocked him : assuring r^n that I would be damned if I did not speak the whole tnith. So, I decided to speak, and I said : " I mocked you for several things." " What made you, first mock me ?" asked the j)riest. " I laughed at you, because you lisp : among the pupils of the school, and other people, it often happens that we imitate your preaching to laugh at you," I answered. I " For what other reasons did you laugh at me, my little boy !" For a long time I was silent- Every time I opened my rniuth to speak, my courage failed me. But the priest continued to urge me, I said at last ; " It is " rumoured in town, that you love girls : that you visit the Misses R's almost every night ; and this, often " made us laugh." The poor priest was evidently ovenvhelmed by my answer, and ceased questioning me on that subject. Changing the conversation, he said : " what are your other sins ?" ! I began to co\Aer .'scni according to the order in which they ciroe to my memory. But the feeling of shame which overpowered me, irx repeating all my sins to that man, was a thousand times greater ■'-■ . that of having offended God. In reality, this feeling of human shame, which absorl)cd my thoughts, nay, my whole l)eing, left no room for any religious feeling fit all. I When I had confessed all the sins I could remember, the pries c began to put t,.> me the strangest questions about matters on which niy r^c/i must be ailcnt. .... .1 replied " Father, I do not undtrstnid vhat you ask me." : I •S: ■»'*T* -It iw**- -ili' !l'.^ 126 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, *' ■ u :»'h rr;: ' "fit 1 ■f> 1^:.^ " I question you," he answered, on the the sins of the " sixth commandment of God, (the seventh in the Bible) •* Do confess all, my little boy, for you will go to hell if, *' through your fault you omit any thing." And' thereupon he dragged my thoughts into region . of iniquity which, thanks be to God, had been hitherto quite unknown to me. I answered him again, " I do not understand yo\i," or '* I have never done those wicked things." Then, skillfully shifting to some secondary matters, h " would soon slyly and cunningly come back to his 'wur- itc subject, namely, sins of licentiousness. His questions were so unclean that I blushed and felt nauseated with disgust and shame. ISIore than once, I had been to my great regret, in the company of bad boys, but not one of them had offended my moral nature so much as this priest had done. Not one of them had ever approached the shadow of the things from which that man tore the veil, and Avhich he placed before the eyes of my soul. In vain 1 told him that I was not guilty of those things ; that I did not even understand what he asked me ; but he would not let me off. Like a vulture bent upon tearing the poor defenceless bird that falls into its claws, that cruel priest seemed determined to defile and ruin my heart. At last, he asked me a question in a form of expression so l)ad that I was really pained and put beside myself I felt as if I had received the shock from an electric battery: a feeling of horror made me shudder. 1 was tilled with such indignation that speaking loud enough to be heard by many, I told him: " Sir, I am very wicked, but I was "never guilty of what you mention to me : pleaoe don't -»7^. THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 1-7 or Ision llf. I [cry: ,-ith bard was lon't. ''lasJc'me any more of those questions which will teach " me more wickedness than I ever knew." The remainder of my confession was short. The stern rebuke I had given him had evidently made that priest blush, if it had not frightened him. He stopped short, and gave me some very good advice which might have done me good, if the deep wounds which his ques- tions had inflicted upon my soul, had not so absorbed my thoughts, as to prevent me from giving attention to what he said. He gave me a short penance and dis missed me. I left the confessional irritated and confused. From the shame of what I had just heard, I dared not raise my eyes from the ground. I went into a corner of the ( hurch to do my penance, that is to recite the prayers which he had indicated to me. I remained for a long time in the church. I had need of a. calm, after the- terrible trial through which I had just passed. But vainly sought I for rest. The shameful questions which had just been asked from me, the new world of iniquity i,,to which I been introduced, the impure phantoms by ,\hirh my childish head had been defiled, confused and troubled my mind so strongly, that I began to weep ''>ii'erly. I left the church only when forced to do so by the shades of night, and came back to my uncle's house,' with a feeling of shame and uneasiness, as if I had done a bad action and feared lest I should be detected. My trouble was much increased when my uncle, jestingly, said : " now that you have been to confess, you will be a good boy. But if you are not a better bo)', you will be a more learned one, if your confessor has taught you what mine did when I confessed for the first time." ■ ► U- M I* S H'i i :! '^ '■H M 1 ' 1 ' . ;'! tk 128 THE PRIKST, rUK VVOMAX, I Mushed and remained silent. IVIy aunt said : "you " must feel hai)|)y, nuw lliat you have made your con- " fessicm : do you not ? 1 gave an evasive answer, but could not entirely con- ( eal the confusion which overwhelmed me. I went to bed early ; hut I could hardly slee}). I thought that I was the only boy whom the priest had asked these polluting questions : but great was my con- fusi- .. the next day wh'^n on going to school, I learned that mpanions had not been happier than I had been. '' !h^ only difference was that, instead of being grieved as I was, they laughed at it. " Did the priest ask you this and that," they wouIq demand laughing boisterously ; I refused to reply, and said: "are you not ashamed to speak of these things." " Ah ! Ah ! how scrupulous you are :" continued they, " if it is not a sin for the priest to speak to us on these matters, how can it be a sin for us to laugh at it." I felt confounded, not knowing what to answer. But my confu- sion increased not a little, when soon after, I ])erceived that the young girls of the school had not been less polluted, or scandalized than the boys. Although kccj)ing at a sutticient distance from us to prevent us from understanding every thing they had to say on their contessional experience, those girls were sufficiently near to let us hear many things which it would have been better for us not to know. Some of them seemed thoughtful, sad and shameful : but several laughed heartily at what they had learned in the confessional box. I was very indignant against the priest ; and thought in myself, that he was a very wicked man, for having i)Ut to us such repelling questions. But 1 was wrong. That priest was honest ;^he was only doing his duty, as I have AND THE CO.NFKbSlONAL OK ROME. 129 ■> they, these 1 kit onfu- ivcd less ough It us their • near l)een cmed |i;j;hed box. night - ])Ut That have known since, when studying the theologians of Rome. The Rev. Mr. JJeaiibien was a real gentleman, and if he had been free to follow the dictates of his honest con- science it is my strong conviction he would never have sullied our young hearts with such impure ideas. But what has the honest conscience of a priest to do in the confessional, except to be silent and dumb ? The priest of Rome is an automaton, tied to the feet of the Pope ])y an iron chain, lie can move, go right or left, up or down ; he can think and act, but only at the bidding of the infallible god of Rome. The priest knows the will oi' his modern divinity only through his approved emis- saries, embassadors and theologians. With shame on my lirow, and bitter tears of regret flowing just now, on my cheeks, I confess that I have had myself to learn by heart those damning questions, and put them to the young and the old, who like me, were fed with the diabolical, doctrines of the church of Rome, in reference to auricular confession. Some time after, some people waylaid and whipped that very same priest, when during a very dark night he was coming back from visiting his fair young penitents the Misses Rs And the next day, the conspira- tors having met at the house of Dr. Stephen Tache', to give a report of what they had done to the half jr^rrf society to which they belonged, I was invited by my young friend Louis Casault'^ to conceal myself with him, in an adjoining room, where we could hear every thing without being seen. I find in the old manuscripts of " my young year's recollections " the following address of Mr. Dubord. Ifr *He flicd ruiiy years after when at the head of the Laval University. {■ I30 THE I'RKCST, rUF. WOMAN, '■1 ! 1 1>. Mr. President. — " I was not among those who gave to ** the priest the expression of the pubHc feeh'ngs with the •' eloquent voice of the whip : hut I wish I had been, I *' would heartily have ro operated to give that so well " deserved lesson to the father confessors of Canada, and " let me give you my reasons for tliat. " My child who is hardly twelve years old, went to con- "fess, as did the other girls of the village, some time ago. " It was against my will. I know, by my own experience, *' that of all actions, confession is the most degrading of " ." ' erson's life. 1 can imagine nothing so well calculat- " cd to destroy forever one's self-respect, as the modern " invention of the confessional. Now, what is a person 'Swthout self-respect? Especially a woman? Is not all " forever lost without this ? " In the confessional every thing is corruption of the ''lowest grade. There, the girl's thoughts, lips, hearts " and souls are forever polluted. Do I need to prove you " this ? No ! for though you have given up, long since " auricular confession, as below the dignity of man, you " have not forgotten the lessons of corruption which you " have received from it. Those lessons have remained " on your souls as the scars left by the red hot iron upon " the brow of die slave to be a perpetual witness of his " shame and servitude. " The confessional box is the place where our wives " and daughters learn things which would make the most " degraded woman of our cities blush ! "Why are all Roman Catholic nations inferior to " nations belonging to Protestanism ? only in the con- " fcssional can the solution of that problem be found. " And why are Roman Catholic nations degraded in " proportion to their submission to their priests ? It is And the confessional of rome. ^3» ■■■ > vou vives most )r to ~ con- )und. id in It is " because the more often the individuals composing those " nations go to confess, the more rapidly they sink in the " sj)here of intelligence and morality. A terrible ex- '• ample of the auricular confession depravity has just •' o< (uned in my own family. " As r have said a moment ago, I was against my own " daughter gf)ing to ( onfession, but belt poor mother, " who is under tlie control of the prier^t, earnestly wanted " her to go. Not to have a disagreeable scene in my " house, 1 had to yield to the tears of my wife. " On the following day of the confession, they believe- "' ed I was absent, but 1 was in my oflice, with the door " su(ficien*^ly opened to hear every thing which could be " said by my wife and the child. And the following con- " vcrsation took place : " What makes you so thoughtful and sad m.y dear Lucy, " since you went to confess ? It seems to me you should '* feel hap])ier since you had the privilege of confessing " your sins. My child answered not a word, she remained absolu- tely silent. After two or three minutes of silence, I heard the mother saying : " Why do you weep, my dear Lucy ? are you sick?" But no answer yet from the child ! " You may well suppose that I was all attention, I had " my secret suspicions about the dreadful mystery which "had taken place. My heart throbbed with uneasiness a ar.u anger. •'.\rt:ir a short silence, my wife spoke again to her " child, but with sufficient firmness to decide her to " answer at last. In a treml)ling voice, she said : "Oh ! dear Mamma, if you knew what the priest has t < i ■ I, I Hi f:..^ ■Uk I, i ' 132 THE PR I EST, TJIE WOMAN, " asked me and what he said lu mc when I confcbscd, " you would perhaps be sad as I am. " But what can he have said to you ? Me is a holy "man,^ you must have misunderstood him, if you think " that he has said anything wrong. " My child threw herself in her mother's arms, and •- answered with a voice half suffocated with her sobs : " Do not ask me to tell you what the priest ha:> said — it "is so shameful that I cannot repeat it — His wojds have " stack to my heart a;> the leech put upon the arm of my " Itttle friend, the other day. " What does that priest think of me, for having put to " me such questions ? My wife answered : " I will go to the priest and will " teach him a lesson. I have noticed myself that he " goes too far when questioning old people, but I had the " hope he was more prudent with children. 1 ask of ** you, however, never to speak of this to anybody, " especially, let not your poor father know anything " about it ; for he has little enough of religion already, " and this would lea,ve him without any at all." " I could not refrain myself any longer : I abruptly "entered the parlor. My daughter threw herself into " my arms : my wife screamed with terror, and almost fell " into a swoon, I said to my child : If you love me, " put your hand on my heart, and promise never to go " again to confess. Fear God, my child, love Him and " walk in his presence. For his eyes see you everywhere. " Remember that He is always ready to forgive and bless " you every time you turn your heart to him. Never " place yourself again at the feet of a priest to be defiled " and degraded. " This my daughter promised to me. AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROMF:. 11-5 to go and lere. |)less lever Ifiled " When my wife had recovered from her surprise, I " told her. " Madame, it is long since the priest is everything, and " your husband nothin«; to you ! There is a hidden and " terrible power whidi governs you, it is the power of the " priest : this you have often denied, but it can not be "denied any longer, the Providence of (lod has de- " cided, to day, that this power should forever be de- " stroyed in my house, J want to be the only ruler of " my family : from this moment the power of the priest " over you is forever abolished. Whenever you go and " take your hcnrt and your secrets to the feet of the " priest, be so kind as not to come back any rnoje into " my house as my wife." This is one of the thousand and thousand specimens of the peace of conscience brought to the soul through auricular confession. J could give many similar in- stances, if it were my intention to publish a treatise on this subject, but as I only desire to write a short chap- ter, I will adduce but one other fact to show the awful deception practised by the Church of Rome when she invites persons to come to confession under the pretext that /leace to the soul will be the reward of their obe- dience. Let us hear the testimony of another living and unimpeachable witness about this peace of the soul, be- fore, during, and after auricular confession. In her re- markable book " Personal experience of Roman Catho- licism" Miss Eliza Richardson, writes, (Page 34 and 35-) " Thus I silenced my foolish quibbling, and went on " to the test of a convert's fervour and sincerity in con- "fession. And here was assuredly a fresh source of " pain and disquiet, and one not so easily vanquished. *'»* lit 1I»'' ii|| m » ♦. ■'1 r '1 ■II 134 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, , " The theory had appeared, as a whole, fair and rational, *' but tlie reality, in some of its details, 7('as tarible ! "Divested, for the public gaze, of its darkest ingrc- " dients, and dressed up, in their theological works, in " false and meretricious pretentions to truth and purity, " it exhibited a dogma only calculated to exert a bene " ficial influence on mankind, and to prove a sourro of " morality and usefulness. Bui oh^ as ivith all ideals^ " how unlike ivas the actual ! " Here, however, I may remark, in passing, ihc effect " produced upon my mind l)y the first sight of the older " editions of " the (warden of the Soul " I remember the '• stumbling-block it was to me, my sense of womanly *•■ delicacy was shocked. It wris a dark page in my " experience, when first I knelt at the feet of a mortal " man to confess what should have been poured into •* the ear of Cod alone. I cannot dwell upon this " Though I believe my Confessor was, on the whole, ai? "guarded as his manners were kind; at some things I " was strangely startled, utterly confounded. " The purity of mind and delicacy in which I had been ^*' nurtured, had not prepared me for such an ordeal ; and *' my own sincerity, and dread of committing a sacrilege, " tended to augment the painfulness of the occasion. *' One circumstance especially I will recall, which my *' fettered conscience persuaded me 1 was obliged to " name. My distress and terror, doubtless, made me " less explicit than I otherwise might have been. The " questioning, however, it elicited, and the ideas supplied " by it, outraged my feelings to such an extent, that, " forgetting all respect for my Confessor, and careless, " even, at the moment, whether I received absolution or " not, I hastily exclaimed, " I cannot say a word more," AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. '35 my to me The lied hat, less, nor "wliilc tlie thou^'ht rushed into my mind, " all is true *' that their enemies say of them." Here, however pru- "denre dictated to my iiucstioner to put the matter no "further; and die kind and almost respectful tone he ''''immediately assumed, went far towards effacing an " impression so injurious. On rising from my knees, " when I should have gladly fled to any distance rather "than have encountered his gaze, he addressed me in "the most familiar manner on different subjects, and *' detained me some time in talking, ^\'hat share I took " in the conversation, I never knew and all that I " remember, was my burning cheek, and inability to raise "my eyes from the ground. • . "Here 1 would not be sui)i)osed to ])e intentionally "casting a stigma uj)()n an individual. Nor am 1 "throwing un([ual!fied blame upon the priesthood. // " is the system whicJi is at fault, a system which teaches " that tilings, even at the remembrance of which degraded " humanity must blush in the presence of heaven and its " angels, should be laid open, ihvelt upon, and exposed in ''^detail, to the sullied ears of a corrupt and fallen fellow- "morta' who of like passions with the penitent at his " feet, ifS thereby exi)osed to temi)tations the most dark " and dangerous. But what shall we say of woman ? " Draw a veil ! Oh purity, modesty ! and cverj-^ womanly " feeling! a veil as obli\ion, over the '"' r.ully, danger- " ous experience thou art called to pass tlirough ! (i)age "37, and 38.") " Ah ! there are things that cannot be recorded X facts too startling, and at the same time, too delicately intri- cate, to admit a public portrayal, or meet the public gaze ; But the cheek can blush in secret at the true images which memory evokes, and the oppressed mind T36 THE PRIEST, Tin: WOMAN, 1 ir;'i t shrinks back, in horror, from ihc dark sliadows whu li liave saddened and ovcruhchned it. I api)oal to ronvcrts, to converts of the gentler sex, and ask thorn *" ^'•Icssly ask them, '.vliat was the first impression nun. a your minds and feelings by the confessional ? 1 do not ask liow subsequent familiarization has weakened the effocls: but when at(iuaintanre was first made with it, how were yuu affected by it ? 1 ask not the impure, tlie already defiled, for to such, it is sadly susceptible of being made a darker soune of guilt and shame ; --but I appeal to the pure minded and delicate, the pure in heart and sentiment. Was not your Jirsf impression one of inex- pressible dread and bewilderment, followed by a sense of humiliation and degri\dation, not easily to b( defined or supported? (page 3c,.) "The memory c t time (first auricular confession) will ever be |)ainuii and ab- horent to me ; though subsequent experience has thrown, even that, far into the back ground. Jt was my initiatory lesson upon subjects which ought never to enter the imagination of girlhood: my introduction into a region which should never be approached by the guileless and the pure." (page Cf") One or two individuals (Roman Catholic) soon formed a close intimacy with me, and discoursed with a freedom and plainness I had never, before encountered. My acquaintances, however, had been brought up in convents, or familiar with them for years, and I could not gainsay their statement. "I was reluctant to believe more than I had experienced the proof, however, was destined to come in no dubious shape at a no distant day A dark and sullied page of experience was fast opening upon me ; but so unac- customed was the eye which scanned it, that I could not at all, at once, believe ia its truth ! And it was of AND THE CONFF.SSIONAI, OF ROMF. J/ :gion and Ionian and never, had 1 for need bioLis page unac- d not IS of hypocrisy so liatefiil, of sacrilegi* so terrihlo, and almse so gross of all things jjiire and holy, and in the [lersoti of one hound l)y his vows, his ])osition, ami every law of his rlniK h, as well as of (lod, to set a high example, that, lor a time, all eonhdenre in the very existence of sincerity and goodness was in danger of being shaken, sacraments, deemed the most sa< red, were pnjfaneil ; vows disregarded, vaunted secreey of the confessional <:overtly infringed, and its sanctity abused to an unhallowed purpose; while even private visitation was converted into a channel for temptation, and made the occasion of imholy freedom of words and manner. So ran the account of evil and a dire a< < ount it was. \\y it, all serious thoughts of religion were well nigh extin- guished. ']'he influence was fearful atid polluting, the whirl of excitement inexpressible : J cannot enter into minute particulars licre, every sense of feminine delicaxy and womanly feeling shrink from such a task. 'J'his mucli, however, I can say that 1, in conjunction with two other young friends, took a journey to a confessor, an inmate of a religious house, who lived at some dis- tance, to lay the affair before him ; thinking that he would take some remedial measures adequate to the urgency of the case. He heard our united statements, expressed great indignation, and, at once, commended us each to write and detail the circumstances of tlie case to the Bishop of the district. This we did ; but of course, never heard the result. The reminiscences of these dreary and w'retched months seem now like some hideous and guilty dream. It was actual familiarization with unholiest things ! (page 6^.) " The romish religion teaches that if you omit to name anything in confession, however repugnant or revolting ;§'-li: m^. i;'C ! BI i t ')l ' 'ii; MS THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN", to purity, wiiich you even dou1)t having committed, your subsequent confessions are thus rendered null and sacrilegious ; while it also inculcates that sins of thought should be confessed in order that the confessor may judge of their mortal or venial character. What sort of a < hain this links around the strictly conscientious I would attempt to portray, if I could. But it must have been worn to understand its torturing character ! SuHice it to say that, for months past, according to this stan- dard, 1 had not made a good confession at all ! And now. filled with remorse for my past sacrilegious sin- fulness, 1 resolved on making a new general confession to the rclii^inix alluded to. But this confessor's scrupulosity exceeded everything I had, hitherto, en- countered. He told me some things v/ere mortal sins, whi( h I had never before imagined could be such : and thus threw so many fetters around my conscience, that a host of anxieties for my first general confession was awakened within me. 1 had no resource then, but to re-make that, and thus I afresh entered on the bitter path I had deemed I should never have occasion again to tread. But if my first confession had lacerated my feelings, what was it to this one ? Words have no power, language has no expression to characterise the emotion that marked it ! '' The dlfiiculty I felt in making a full and explicit avowal of all that distressed me, furnished my confessor with a pica for his assistance in the questioning depart- ment, and fain would I conceal much of what passed then, as a foul blot on my memory. I soon found that he made mortal sins of what my first confessor had professed to treat but lightly, and he did not scruple to say that I had never yet made a good confession at all. w AND THE CONFESSIONAL 01 ROME. 139 ulicit issor Ipart- Issed that had |e to all. My ideas tlierefor? became more complicated and con- fused as I proceeded, until, at length, 1 began to feel doubtful of ever accomplishing my task in any degree satisfactorily : and my mind and memory were positively racked to recall every iota, of every kind, real or im- aginary, that might, if om.itLcd, hereafter be occasion of uneasiness. Things heretofore held comjiaratively trifling were recounted, and pronounced damnable sins : and as, day after dny, 1 knelt at the feet of that man, answering questions' and listening to admonitions calcu- lated to bov/ my very soul to tlie dust, 1 felt as though I should hardly be able to raise my head again !" (page 63.) This is the peace which flows from auricular confes- sion ! I solemnly declare that, ex(^c})t in a few cases, in which the confidence of the penitents is bordering on idiocy, or in which they have been transformed into immoral brutes, nine-tenths of the multitudes who go {jo confess, are obliged to recount some such desolate narrative as that of Miss Richardson, when they are sufficiently honest to say the tru'. h* The most fmatical apostles of auricular confession cannot deny that the examination of conscience, which must precede confession, is a most difficult task ; a task which, instead of filling the mind witli peace, fills it with anxiety and serious fears. Is it then only after confes- sion that they promise such peace ? Cut they know very well that tliis promise is also a cruel deception. . . . for to make a good confession, the penitent has to re- late not only all his bad achons, but all his bad thoughts and desires, their number, and various aggravatinu cir- cumstances. Eut have they found a single one of their penitents who was certain to have remembered all the thoughts, the desires, all the criminal aspirations of the :>! I ■ t\ 1 J ! km- if •■-I I 140 THE. PRIEST, THE WOMAN, poor sinful "heart? They are well aware that to count the thoughts of the mind for days and weeks gone by, and to narrate tliose thoughts accurately at a subse quent period, are just as easy as to weigh and count the clouds wliich have passed over the sun, in a tliree days storu), a month after that storm is over. It is simply impossible, absurd ! This has never been- this will never be done. But there is no possible peat so long as the penitent is not sure that he has remembered, counted and confessed every past sinful thought, word and deed. It is then impossible, yes ! it is morally and physically impossible for a soul to find peace through auricular confession. If the law which says to every sinner : ** You are bound, under pain of eternal damnation, to remem- ber all your bad thoughts and confess them to the best of your memory ", were not so evidently a satanic in- vention, it ought to be put among the most infamous ideas which have ever come out from the brain of fallen man. For, who can remember and count the thoughts of a week, of a day, nay, of an hour of his sinful life ? Where is the traveller who has crossed the swampy forests of America, in the three months of a warm sum- mer, who could tell the number of musquit,oes which have bitten him and drawn the blood from the veins ? i What should that traveller think of the man who, seriously, would tell him : " You must prepare yourself to die, if you do not tell me, to the best of your mem- ory, how many times you have been bitten by the musquitoes, the last three summer months, when you crossed the swampy lands along the shores of the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers ? Would he not suspect that his merciless inquirer had just escaped from a lunatic asylum ? , AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 141 ■r had But it would be much more easy for lliat traveller to say how many times he has suffered from the bitings of the musquitoes, than for the poor sinner to count the bad thoughts which have passed through his sinful heart, through any period of his life. Though the penitent is told that he* must confess his thoughts only according to his best recollection, — he will never^ never know if he has done his ^rj^/ efforts to rc- niember everything : he will constantly fear lest he has not done his best to count and confess them correctly. Every honest priest will at once admit that his most intelligent and pious penitents, particularly among women, are constantly tortured by the fear of having omitted to disclose some sinful deeds or thoughts. Many of them, after having already made several general confessions, are constantly urged by the pricking of their conscience, to begin afresh, in the fear that their first confessions had some serious defects. Those past con- fessions, instead of being a source of spiritual joy and peace, are, on the contrary, like so many Damocles' swords, day and night suspended over their heads, tilling their souls with the terrors of an eternal death ! Some- times the terror-stricken consciences of those honest and pious women tell them that they were not sufficiently contrite ; at another time, they reproach them for not having spoken sufficiently plain on some things fitter to make them blush. On many occasions, too, it has happened that sins which one conlessor had declared to be venial, and which had long ceased to be confessed, another more scrupulous than the first would declare to be damnable. Every confessor thus knows perfectly well that he prof- fers what is flagrantly false every time he dismisses his « • i k ii Ii. !)<■:, ! iW'i ' 1 ■ 142 THE I'KIESr, THE WOMAN, * ^'ri penitents, after confession, with the saUilatlon : — " Go in peace, thy sins are forgiven thee." But it is a mistake to say that the soul does not find peace in auric ular confession : in many cases, peace is found. And if the reader desires to learn something of that peace, let him go to the grave-yard, open the tombs, and peep into the sepulchres. What awful silence ! What profound quiet ! What terrible and frightful peace! You hear not even the motion of the worms that creep in, and the worms that creep out, as they feast upon the dead carcase ! Such is the peace of the confessional ! The soul, the intelligence, the honor, the sdf-respect, the conscience, are there sacrificed. There they must die ! Yes, the confessional is a veritable tomb of human conscience, a sepulchre of human honesty, dignity and liberty ; the grave-yard of human soul ! By its means, man, whom God hath made in his own image, is con- verted into the likeness of the beast that perishes ; woman, created by God to be the glory and help-mate of man, is transformed into* the vile and trembling slave of the priest. In the confessional, man and Avonian attain to the highest degree of popish perfection : they become as dry sticks, as dead branches, as silent corjjses, in the hands of their confessors. Their spirits are de- stroyed, their consciences are stiff, their souls are ruined. This is the supreme and perfect result achieved, in its highest victories, by the Church of Rome. There is, verily, peace to be found in auricular con- fession — yes, but it is the peace of the grave ! I ;l*""f^ ^ND THE PQNFES.SipjJAL,^Oi^,ROHe. '43 CHAPTER IX. ^ THE DOCntA OF AURICULAR COXFESSION" A SACRILEtJIOUS IMPOSTURE. Both Roman Catholics and Protestants Iiave fallen into very strange errors in reference to the words of Christ : " Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them ; .///^ whose soever sins yc retain, they are re- tamed." (St. John XX. 23.) The first have seen in this text the inalienable attributes of God of forgiving and retaining sins transferred to sin ful men ; the second have most unwisely granted their position, even while attempting to refute their errors. A little more attention to the translation of the 3rd and 6th verses of chapter xiii. of Leviticus by the Septuagint would have i)revented the former from falling into their sacrilegious errors, and would have saved the latter from wasting so much time in refuting errors which refute themselves. Every one knows that the Septuagint Bible was the Bible that was generally read and used by Jesus Christ and the Hebrew people, in our Saviour's days. Its language was evidently the one s])oken by Christ and understood by his hearers. AVhen addi-essing his apostles and disciples on their duties towards the spiritual lepers to whom they were to preach the ways of salvation, Christ constantly followed tlie very expression of the Septuagint. It was the foundation of his doctrine and the testimonial of his divine mission to which he «* •n T - r»^ ... ' 111' ! !■ V I.I r [\\^ h r : i' i fi . n i Vi' iJ;,, ti ^p* '-!!■'■' 'i t -.Ml ■41 wi 144 JllE I'RlEbr, THE WOMAN, fonslanlly appealed : the book which was the greatest treasure of the nation. l-'roiu the beginnint; to the end of the Old and the New Tcstanient, the bodily leprosy, with which the Jewish priest had to deal, is presented as the figure of the spiritual leprosy, sin, the ])enalty of which our Saviour had taken upon himself, that we might be saved by his death. That spiritual leprosy Avas the very thing lor the cleansing of which he had come to this world — for which he lived, suffered and died. Yes ! the bodily leprosy with which the priests of the Jews had to deal, was the figure of the sins w4iich Christ was to take away by shedding his blood, and with which his apostles were to deal till the end of the world. When speaking of the duties of the Hebrew priests towards the leper, our modern translations say : (I-ev. xiii. v. 6.) "They will pronounce him clean" or (v. 3d.) " They will pronounce him unclean." But this action of the priests was expressed in a very different way by the Septuagint Bible, used by Christ and the people of his time. Instead of saying, " The priest shall pronounce the leper clean, " as Ave read in our Bible, the Septuagint version says, " The priest shall clean {JMthard^ or shall unclean [miafiei,) the leper. No one had ever been so foolish, among the Jews, as to believe that because their Bible said cka;i, {kai/iara) their priests had the miraculous and supernatural power of taking away and curing the lc])rosy : and we nowhere see that the Jewish priests ever had the audacity to try to persuade the people that they had ever received any supernatural and divine power to "cleanse" the Icjjrosv, because their Cod, tlirough the Bible, had said of them ; .■7:\l AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 145 I very hrist iThe Ltl ill ihall )er. Is, as n'of lliere try any losy, tm ; " They \vill cleanse the leper." Both priest and people were sufficiently intelligent and honest to understand and acknowledge that by that expression, it was only meant that the priests had the legal right to see if the leprosy was gone or not, they had only to look at certain marks indicated by God Himself, through Moses, to know whether, or not, God had cured the leper before he pre- sented himself to his priest. The leper, cured by the mercy and power of God alone, before presenting himself to the priest, was only declared to be clean by that priest. Thus the priest was said, by the Bible, to ''clean " the leper, or the leprosy ;— and, in the opposite case, to ''unclean." (Septuagint, Leviticus xiii. v. 3. 6.) Now, let us put what God has said, through Moses, to the priests of the old law, in reference to the bodily leprosy, face to flice with what God has said, through his Son Jesus, to his apostles and his whole church, in reference to the spiritual leprosy from which Christ has delivered us on the cross. New Testament, Jolin xx., 23. " Whose soever sins yc remit, they are remitted unto them ; and whose soever sins yc retain, llioy are retained." Septuagint Bible, Lcvit. xiii. " And the Pritst shall look on the plague, in the skin of the flesh, and when the hair in the plague is turned white, and the plngue in sight be deeper than the skin of his flesh, it is a plague of leprosy : and the priest shall look on him and unclean liiM [au'arh'i). "And the Priest shall look on him again the seventh day, and if the plague is somewhat dark and docs not spreail on the skin, the Priest shall CLEAN Hl>r {kat/iriiri) : and he shall ■wash his clothes and be clean,'' {kathuros. ) The analogv of the diseases with which the Hebrew % 'f:<} priests and the disciples of Christ had to deal, is strik- ; i 1 1" i 1 • \ 't^ ;,ri.4 T4r, TFIE PRIF.sr, IFIF. WOMAN, ing : so the analogy of the expressions pres(ribin«^ their respective duties is also striking. W'lien God said to the priests of the Old Law, " Von shall clean the leper," and he shall be "cleaned," or, "you i»hall unclean the leper," and he shall be " uncleaned," He only gave the legal power to see if there were any signs or indications by which they could say that God had cured the leper before he presented himself to the priest. So, when Christ said to his apostles and his whole church, " Whose soever sins ye shall forgive, shall be forgiven unto them," He only repeated what Moses had said in an analagous case : He only gave them the authority to say when the spiritual lepers, the sinners, had reconciled themselves to God, and received their pardon from Him and Him alone, previous to their coming to the apostles. It is true that the priests of the Old Law had regula- tions from God, through Moses, which they had to follow, by which they could see and say whether, or not, the leprosy was gone. " If the plague spread not on the skin the priest shall clean him but if the priest see that the scab spread on the skin, it is leprosy : he shall " unclean '' him. (Septua^?>nt, Levit. xiii. 3. 6.) So Christ had given to his apostles and his whole church equally, infallible rules and marks to determine whether, or not, the spiritual leprosy was gone, that they might clean the leper and tell him, I clean thee, or I unclean thoe. I forgive thy sins, or I retain thy sins. I would have, indeed, many passages of the Old and New Testaments to copy, were it my intention to repro- AND Tiir;: cONrrs>ioN.\r, of romk. M7 diKC all the marks given by God Himself, through his the lean l^vhole rmine they and l-epro- proph by Chi th: lis ambassadors might know when they should say to the sinner that he was delivered from his iniquities. I will give only a fe^ . First : " And he said unto them, go ye into all the world and preach the gospel to ever}- creature : ** He that believcth and is baptised, shall be saved : but ho that bcHcveth not sh.iU be damned." (Mark xvi. i5> i6.) AMiat a strange want of memory in the Saviour of the world ! He has entirely forgotten that " Auricular Con- fession," besides Faith and 13 iptism are necessary to be saved ! To those who believe and are baptised, the apostles and the church are authorised by Christ to say : '• You arc saved ! your sins are forgiven ! I clean you ! Second : " And when ye come into an house, salute it. " And if the house be worthy, let your peace come apon it : but if it he not worthy, let your peace return to vou. " And whose soever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust of your feet. '* Verily, verily I say unto you, it shall be more toler- able for tlie land of Sodom and Gomorrha, in the day of Judgment, than for that (ity.'' (Math x. 12-15.) Here again the (jreat Physician tells his disciples when the leprosy will be gone, the sins forgiven, the soul purified. It is wlien tlie lepers, the sinners, will have welcomed his messengers, heard and received their messaGre. Not a word about auricular confession : this great panacea of the Pope's was e-.-idcntly ignored by Christ. Third : " If ye forgive men their trespasses, your I 1.1 i' > . Mii: ui ! I i i •r ■U'" r'*' :> ; 1 ■ 1 X48 THE i'kif:-)!", -^he Woman, heavenly Father will also forgive you — But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." (Math vi. 14, 15.) Was it possi!)le to give a more striking and simple rule to the Apostles and the Disciples that they might know when they could say to a sinner : " Thy sins are forgiven !" or, "Thy sins are retained?" Here the double keys of heaven are most solemnly and publicly given to every child of Adam ! As sure as there is a God in heaven and that Jesus died to save sinners, so it is sure that if one forgives the trespasses of his neighbor for the dear Saviour's sake, his own sins have been lorgiven I To the end of the world, then, let the disciples of Christ say to the sinner, " Thy sins are forgiven," not because you have confessed your sins to me, but for Christ's sake ; the evidence of which is that you have forgiven those who had offended you. Fourth : " And behold, a certain one stood up and tempted him, sajing : Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal liife ? " He said unto him : What is written in the law ? how readest thou ? " And he, answering, said : Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself. , " And He said unto him, thou hast answered right ; this do and thou shalt live." (Luke x. 25-28.) What a fine opportunity for the Saviour to speak of " auricular confession " as a means given by him to be saved ! But here again, Christ forgets that marvellous medicine of the Popes. Jesus, speaking absolutely like tfie Protestants, bids his messengers to proclaim pardon. AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 149 forgiveness of sins, not to those who confess their sins to a man, but to those who love God and their neighbor. And so will his true discii)les and messengers do to the end of the world I Fifth : " And when he (the prodigal son) came to himself, he said : 1 will arise and go to my father and I will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee : and I am not worthy to be called thy son : make me as one of thy hired servants. " And he arose and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion and ran ; and he fell on his neck and kissed him. "And the son said. Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am not worthy to be called thy son. " But the father said to his servants : Bring forth his best robe, and put it on him : put a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet, and bring hither the fat calf For this my son was dead, and he is alive again, he was lost and he is found." (Luke xv, 17-24.) Apostles and disciples of Christ, wherever you will hear, on this land of sin and misery, the cry of the Prodigal Son : " I will arise and go to my Father " every time you see him, not at your feet, but at the feet of his true Father, crying : " Father I have sinned against thee," unite your hymns of joy to the joyful songs of the angels of God ; repeat into the ears of that redeemed sin- ner the sentence just fallen from the lips of the Lamb, whose blood cleanses us from all our sins ; say to him, " Thy sins are forgiven." Sixth: "Come unto me all ye who labour, and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. 1 ake my yoke M • • i!.: ill ■■I $ i ' I ISO THE PRIEST, THE \VOMAN, .<■ •' ,*' ►.^, ^ lit ui)on you, and learn of me, for I am nicck and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls ; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Math xi, 28-30.) Thout^h these words were j)ronoun(:ed more than 1800 years ago, they were i)ronounced this very morninj^ ; they come at every hour of day and night from the lips and the heart of Christ to every one of us sinners. It is just now that Jesus says to every sinner, "Come to me and I will give ye rest." Christ has never said an 1 he will never say to any sinner : " Go to my priests and tlicy will give you rest !" J5ut he has said, " Come to me and I will give you rest." Let the apostles and disciples of the Saviour, then, proclaim peace, ])ardon, rest, not to t'le sinners who f ome to confess to them all their most secretly sinful thoughts, desires, or actions, but to those who go to Christ and Him alone, for peace, pardon and rest. For "Come to me," from Jesus lips, has never meant, it will never mean, " Go and confess to the priests." Christ would never have said : " My yoke is easy and my burdi'n light " if he had instituted auricular confes- sion. I'or the world has ncnor seen a yoke so heavy, humiliating and do'jjradin.;- as auricular confession. Seventh : "As Moses lifted up tlie sjrocnt in thv? wilderness, even so must the Son of man bv? lifted up ; that who soever believetli in him shouM not perish, but have eternal life." (John ii' i ' Did Almighty God require any au' confessio'- in the wilderness, from the sinners, whc c ordered Mo .es to lift up the serpent? No I Neither did Chrst speak of auricular confession as a condition of salvation to those who look to Him when He dies on the Cross to pay their debts. A free pardon was offered to the Iriraelites AND THE CONKKSSIOMAL OP ROMK. 15' >vho looked to the uplifted serj)L'nt. A free pardon is ofTered by Christ crucified (o all those who look to Him with faith, repentance and love. To such sinners ihe ministers of Christ, to the end of the world, arc authorised to say : *• Vour sins are forgiven — we " clean " your le[)r()sy." i'.il^'luh : "For Cod so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in hini should not perish, but have eternal life. " For God sent not His Son to condemn the world, but that the world, through him, mi^^ht be saved. "He that believeth in him is not condemtied : but he that believeth not, is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of Cod. " And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world and man loved darkness rather than light, be- cause their deeds were evil, {''or e\ery one that doelh evil, hateth the light, neither conicth to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. " But he that doeth truth, comelh to the light, that his deeds may be manifest, that they are wrought in Cod." (John iii, i6 21.) In the religion of Rome, it is only througli auricular confession that the sinner can be reconciled to Cod ; it is only after he has heard a most detailed confession of all the thoughts, desires and actions of the guilty one that he can tell him : " Thy sins are forgiven." But in the religion of the Cospel, the reconciliation of the sinner with liis Cod is absolutely and entirely the work of Christ. That mar\ellous forgiveness is a free gift offered not for an\' outward act of the sinner : nothing is required from him but faith, repentance and love. V >» Hi h Hi i i K-'- 152 THE PRIEST, THE WuMAN", M 4 i !h N These arc marks by whicli the leprosy is known to be cured and the sins forgiven. To all those ^\ho hare these marks, the ambassadors of Christ are authorized to say, " Your sins are forgiven," we " clean " you. Ninth : " The publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes to hea\en, but smote upon his breast, saying: God! be merciful to ine a sinner ! " I tell you, this man went down to his house, justi- fied." (Luke xviii 13, 14.) Vcs I justified! and without auricular confession ! Miniates and disciples of Christ, when you see the repenting sinner smiting his breast and cr}ing : " Oh, Ciod ! have mercy upon me a sinner ! " sliut your ears to the deceptive words of Rome who tells you to force that redeemed sinner to make to you a special confession of all his sins, to get his pardon. dJut go to him and deliver the message of love, i)3ace and mercy, which you received from Christ : " Thy sins are forgiven ! 1 " clean " thee ! Tenth : " And one of the malefactors which were lianged, railed on him, saying : " If thou be Christ, save tliyself and us. "Eut t lie' other, answering, rebuked him, saving: Docst not thou fear Ood, seeing thou art in the same condemnation ? and we indeed justly, but this man liatli done nothing amiss. *' And he said unto Jesus : Remember me, when tliou art in thy Kingdom. And Jesus said unto him : Verily, I say unto tiiee : to-day, shall thou be with me in I'ara- dtse. (f.uke xxiii, 39-43.) Yes, in the Paradise or Kingdom of Ciirist, without auricular confession f IVoiu Calvary, when liij hands ■?»!iW!H"i!!HH!HH!:/J-L11 AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. ':)3 are nailed to the cross, and Iiis blood is poured out, Clirist even then protests against the great imposture of auricular confession. Jesus will be to the end of the world what he was there on the cross : the sin- ner's friend ; always ready to hear and pardon those who invoke his name and twust in him. Disciples of the gospel, wherever you hear the ciy of the repenting sinner to the crucified Saviour : '- Re- member me when thou comest to thy Kingdom," go and give the assurance to that penitent and redeemed child of Adam that " his sins are forgiven "— clean the leper. Eleventh: "Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts : and let him return to the Lord ; and he will have mercy upon him and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon." (Isa. Iv. 7. 8.) "Wash you, and make you clean, ])Ut away the evils of your doings- from before mine eyes : cease to do evil, learn to do well ; seek judgment, relieve the opi)ressed ; judge the fatherless, plead for the widow. " Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord : though your sins be as scarlet, they will be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. (L.a i, 16-1S.) Here are the landmarks of the mercy of God, put by his own almighty hands ! Who will dare to rcmo\'e them in order to put others in their place ? Has ever Christ touched those landmarks? Has he ever intimated that anything but faith, repentance and love, v.nth their blessed fruits, were required from the sinners to secure his pardon ? No — never. Have tlie prop'^?ts (jf the (Md Testament or the apostles of the New ever said a word about " auricular confession" as a condition for pardon? No — never. 1'^ !''■> i , M^ ¥ *'ki .::' iy the laws of God and the prescriptions of the (iospel of Chribt. A thousand times he speaks to sinners aiid tells them how they may be reconciled to God. But does he say a word about auricular confession ? No, not one I The apostles Peter, John, Jude address six letters to the different churches — in which they state with the great- cst detail what the different classes of Christians have to do. But again, not a single word comes from them about auricular confession. St. James says, " confess your faults one to another." AND lUL CONl'ESSIONAL Of ROME. OD ]lut this is SO evidently the repetition of what the Saviour had said about the way of reconciliation between those who .liad offended one another, and it is so far from the dogma of a secret confession to the priest, that the most zealous supporters of auricular confession have not dared to mention that text in favour of their modern invention. But if we look in vain in the Old and New Testament for a word in favour of auricular confession as a dogma, v.ill it be possible to fnd that dogma in the records of the first thousand years of Christianity ? No ! for the more one "studies tlie records of the Christian church during the f:rst ten centuries, the more he will be con- \ inced tliat auricular confession is a miserable impos- ture, of the darkest days of the world and the church. We have the life of Paul, the hermit, of the third century, by one of the early fathers of the church. But not a word is said in it of his confessing his sins to any one, though a thousand tilings are said of him which are cf a far less interesting character. So it is with the life of St. Mary, the Egyptian. The minute liistory of her life, her public scandals, her con- version, long prayers and fastings in solitude, the detailed history of her la::t days and of her death, all these we liave ; but not a single word is said of her confessing to any one. It is evident that she lived and died without ever having thought of going to confess. The deacon Pontius wrote also the life St. Cyprien, who lived in the third centur)' ; 1 lut he does not say a word of his ever having gone to confession, or having heard the confession of any one. More than that, we learn from this reliable historian that Cyprien was ex- comniunicated by the Pope of Rome, called Stephen, and that he died without having ever asked from any one I H i" IT <*i!»t 156 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, absoldtlon from that excommunication ; a thing whicli has not seemingly prevented him from going to Hea^ en, since the infallible Popes of Rome, who succeeded Stephen, have assured us that he is a saint. Gregory of Nyssa has given us the life of St. Gregory of Neo-Coesarea, of the 3rd century, and of St. Basil, of the 4th century. But neither speak of their having gone to confess, or having heard the confession of any one. It is thus evident that those two great and good men, with all the Christians of their times, lived and died with- out ever knowing any thing about the dogma of auricular confession. We liave the interesting life of St. Ambrose, ot the 4th century, by Paulmus ; and from that book it is as e\ ident as two and two make four, that St. Ambrose never went to confess. The history of St. Martin of Tours, of the 4th century by Severus Sulpicius of the 5th century, is another monument left by antiquity to prove that there was no dogma of auricular confession in those days ; for St. Martin has evidently lived and died without ever going to confess. Pallas and Theodoret have left us the liistory of the life, sufferings and death of St. Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople, who died at the beginning of the 5 th century, and both are absolutely mute about that dogma. No fact is more evident, by what they say, tlian that holy and eloquent bishop lived and died also without ever thinking of going to confess. No man has ever more perfectly entered into the de- tails of a Christian life, when writing on that subject, than the learned and eloquent St. Jerome, of the 5th century. 1 ' AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 157 A great number of his admirable letters are written to the priests of his day, or to some christian ladies and virgins, who had requested him to give them some good advices about the best way to lead a Christian life. His letters, which form five volumes, are most interesting monuments of the manners, habits, views, morality, practical and dogmatical faith of the first centuries of the church ; and they are a most unanswerable evidence that auricular confession, as a dogma, had then no existence, and is quite a modern invention. Would it be possible that Jerome could have forgotten to give some advices or rules about auricular confession, to the priests of his time who asked his counsel about the best way to fulfil their ministerial duties, if it had been one of their duties to hear the confessions of the people ? But we challenge the most devoted modern priest of Rome to find a single line in all the letters of St. Jerome in favour of auricular confession. In his admirable le'tter to the priest Nepotianus, on the life of priests, vol. 11, p. 203, when speaking of the relations of priests with women, he says : " Solus cum sola, secreto and absque arbitrio, vcl teste, non sedcas. Si faifiiliarus est aliquid loqueni dum, habet nutricem majorem domus, virginem, viduam, vcl raaritatam ; non est tarn inhumana ut nullum prcTter tc habeat cui se audeat credere." " Never sit in secret, alone, in a retired place, with a female who is alone with you. If she has any particular thing to tell you, let her take the female attendant of the house, a young girl, a widow, or a married woman. She can not be so ignorant of the rules of human life as to expect to have you as the only one to whom she can trust those things." It would be easy to cite a groat number of other rc- f'.' ■■ii! 15^ Till". I'RIfcSr, TIIF, WOMAN', i. :' ' t- : i- markciblc passages vvlierc Jerome shows himself the most determined and iiii[)laca1:)le opponent of those secret " tete-a-tete " between a priest and a female, which, under the plaiifjiblc pretext of niutual advice and fqiiritual consolation, are generally nothing Imt bottomless pits of infamy and perdition for both. But this is enough. We have also the admirable life of St. Paulina, written by St. Jerome. And though in it he gives us every imaginable detail of her life when young, married and widow, though he tells us even how her bed was com- posed of the simplest and rudest materials, he has not a word about her ever having gone to confess. Jerome speaks of the acquaintances of St. Paulina and gives their names ; he enters into the minutest details of her long voyages, her charities, her foundations of monas- teries for men and women, her temptations, human frailties, heroic virtues, her macerations and her holy death : but he has not a word to say about the frequeiit or rare auricular confessions of St. Paulina ; not a word about her wisdom in the choice of a prudent and holy (?) confessor. He tells us that after her death, her body was carried to her grave on the ehoulders of bishops and i>r;ests, as a token of their profound respect for the saint. But he never says that any of those priests sat there, in a dark corner with her, and forced her to reveal to their ears the secret history of all the thoughts, desires, and hum.an frailties of her long and eventful life. Jerome is an un- impeachable Vv'itness that his saintly and noble friend St. Paulina lived and died without having ever thought of going to confeiis. Possidius iias left us the interesting life of St. Augnis- tinc, of th;; PAh century ; and again it is in vain that wc ^H AND TIFR C0XFt:n3I0XAL OF KOMT, ^59 look for the place or the time when that rclebrated bishop of Hippo went to confess, or heard the secret confessions of his people. ]\rore than that, St. Augustine has written a most admirable book, called : "Confessions,'' in which he gives us the history of his life. With that marvellous book in hand, we follow him, step by step, wherever he goes ; we are the witnerses of what he does and thinks ; we attend with him those celebrated schools, where his faith and morality were so sadly wrecked ; he takes us with him into the garden where, wavering between heaven and hell, bathed in tears, he goes under the fig-tree and cries, " Oh Lord ! how long will I remain in my iniqui- ties !" Our soul thrills with emotions, v/ith his soul, when we hear, with him, the sweet and mysterious voice: " Tolle 1 lege !"' take and read. We run with him to the places where he had left his gospel book ; with a trembling hand,, we oi)en it, and we read : " Let us walk honestly as in the day.... put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ. ..." (R.om. xiii, 13, 14.) That incomparable book of Augustine makes us weep and shout with joy with him; it initiates us into all his most secret actions, to all his sorrows, anxieties and joys, it re- veals and unvails his whole life. It tells us where he goes, with whom he sins, and with whom he praises God ; it makes us pray, sing and bless the Lord with him. Is it possible that Augustine could have been to confess without telling us when, where and to whom he made confession ? Could he have received the absolution and pardon of his sins from his confessor, without making us partakers of his joys, and requesting us to bless that confessor with him. But, it is in vain that you look in that book for a I*' k 'ii I %: if i6o THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, I i :|'' 4 -■ I single wor-l a')oiit auricular confession. That book is an unimpeachable witness that neither Augustine nor his saintly mother Monica, whom it mentions so often, lived and died witliout ever having been to confess. That book may be called the most crushing evidence to prove that " the dogma of auricular confession " is a modern imposture. From the beginning to the end of that l)ook, we see that Augustine believed and said that God alone could forgive the sins of men, and that it was to llira alone that men had to confess in order to be pardoned. If he writes his confession, it is only that the world might know how (rod had been merciful to him, and that they might help him to praise and bless the merciful Heavenly Father. In the tenth book of his Confessions, chapter 1 1 1, Augustine protests against the idea that men could do anything to cure the spiritual leper, or forgive the sins of their fellow-men ; here is his clotjuent protest : "Quid mihi ergo est cum hominibus ut audiant con- fessiones meas, quasi ipsi sanaturi sint languores meas ? Curiosum genus ad cognesccndam vitam alienam ; desidiosum ad corrigendam." " Wliat have I to do with men that 1 might be obliged to confess my sins to them, as if they were al)le to heal my infirmities ? Oh Ford ! that human race is very fond of knowing the sins of their neighbors ; but they are very neglectful in correcting their own lies." Before Augustine had built up that sublime and im- perishable monument against auricular confession, St. John Chrysostom had raised his eloquent voice against it, in his homily on the 50th Psalm, where, speaking in tlic name of the Church, he said : " We do not request ._i_ri:i rr-ii nmi AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROMK. I6l a <;P icnl pnd [ery ] ou to go to confess your sins to any of your fcllow-mcn, but only to God !" Ncstorius, of the 4th century, the predecessor of John Chryscstom, had, by a public defense, which the best Roman Catholic historians have had to acknowledge, solemnly forbidden the practice of auricular confession. For, just as there has always been thieves, drunkards and malefactors in the world, so there has always been men and women who, under the pretext of opening their minds to each other for mutual comfort and edification, were giving themselves to every kind of iniquity and lust. The celebrated Chrysostoni was only giving the sanction of his authority to what his predecessor had done wlicn, thundering against the newly born monster, he said to the Christians of his time, " We do not ask you to go and confess your iniquities to a sinful man for pardon — but only to God." (Ilomily on 50th Psalm.) Auricular confession originated with the early heretics, especially with ^Iar( ion. Bellarmin speaks of it as some- thing to be practiced. But let us hear what the contem- porary writers have to say on the question : " Certain women were in the habit of going to the heretic Marcion to confess tlicir sins to him. But, as he was smitten with their beauty, and they loved him also, they abandoned themselves to sin with him." Listen now to what St. Basil, in his commentary on Ps. xxxvii, says of confession : "I have not to come before the world 'to make a confession with my lips. iJut I close my eyes, and con- fess my sins in the secret of my heart. Before thee, O God, I pour out my sighs, and thou alone art the witness. My groans are within my soul. There is no need of many words to confess : sorrow and rjgret are the best i ^: '.'{ I h 1 1 ■ ', u t 1 y If I H 'I f H^ 162 TIIE^ PRIEST, THE WOMAN, confession. Yes, the lamentations of the soul, which thou art pleased to hear, are the best confession." Chrysostom, in his homily: De paenitentia, vol. IV., col. 901, has the following : " You need no witnesses of your confession. Secretly acknowledge your sins, and let God alone hear you." In his homily V., De incomprehensibili Dei natura, vol. I, he says : " Therefore, I beseech you, always con- fess your sins to God ! I in no way ask you to confess them to me. To God alone should you expose the wounds of your souls, and from him alone expect the cure. Go to him, then ; and you shall not be cast off, but healed. For, before you utter a single word, God knows your prayer." In his commentary on Heb. xii., hom. xxxi., vol. xii., p. 289, he further says : " Let us not be content with • calling ourselves sinners. But let us examine and num- ber our sins. And then, I do not tell you to go and confess them, according to the caprice of some ; but I will say to you, with the prophet : " Confess your sins before God, acknowledge your iniquities at the feet of your Judge; pray in your heart and your mind, if not with your tongue, and you shall be pardoned." In his homily on Ps. I., vol. V., p. 589, the same Chrysostom says : " Confess you sins every day in prayer. Why should you hesitate to do so ? I do not tell you to go and confess to a man, sinner as you are, and who might despise you if he knew your faults. But confess them to God, who can forgive them to you." In his admirable homily IV., De Lazaro, vol. I., p. 757, he explains: " Why, tell me, should you be ashamed to confess your sins ? Do we compel you to reveal them to a man, who might, one day, throw them AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 163 •> )e to im into your face ? Arc you commanded to confess them to one of your c([uals, who could publish them and ruin you ? What \vc ask of you, is simply to show the sores of your soul to your Lord and Master, who is also your friend, your guardian and physician." In a small work of Chrysostom's, intidcd: " Catechesis ad illuruinandos," vol. II., p. 210, avc read these remark- able words : " What we should most admire, is not that God forgives our sins, but that he does not disclose them to any one, nor wishes us to do so. \'.'hat ho .demands of us, is to confess our transgressions to him alone to obtain pardon." St. Augustine, in his beautiful homily on the 31st Ps., says : " I shall confess my sins to God, and he will par- don all my iniquities. And such confession is made not with the lips, but with the heart only. I had hardly opened my mouth to confess my sins, when they were pardoned ; for God had already heard the voice of my heart." In the edition of the Fathers by Migne, vol 67, p. 614, 615, we read : "About the year 390, the office of penitentiary was abolished in the church, in conse- quence of a great scandal given by a woman who publicly accused herself of having committed a crime against chastity with a deacon." The ofiice of penitentiary was this : in every large city, a priest or minister was specially appointed to preside over the church meetings wlicre the members who had committed public sins were obliged to confess them publicly before the assemb!}^ in ordor to be re- instated in the privileges of their membersliip \ ^^d that minister had the charge of reading or pronounring the sentence of pardon granted by the church to the guilty 1 iill I« 164 THE PKIKSI', THV. NVOMA.V, If i<- lit- : I** i I ml' li;.! ' m k ones, before they ( ould l)c adiniltctl again lo ( oiiiniunion. 'I'his was perfectly in accordance with wli.it St. Paul liud done with regard to the incestuous one of Corinth, that scandalous sinner, who had cast o1)lo([uy on the Christian name ; but who, after confessing and weeping over his sins, before the church, obtained his pardon — not from a priest in whose cars he had whispered all the shocking details of his incestuous intercourse, l)ut from the whole church assemliled. vSt. Paul gladly approves the Chur( h of Corinth in thus receiving again in their midst a wandering but rci)enting brother. There is as much difference between such public confessions and auricular confessions, as there is between heaven and hell, between Cod and his great enemy, Satan. Public confession, then, dates from the lime of the apostles, and is still practised in protestant churches of our day. But auricular confession was unknown by the disciples of Christ ; as it is rejected, to-day, with horror by all the true followers of the Son of God. Erasmus, one of the most learned Roman Catholics which opposed the Reformation in the 16th century, so admirably begun by Luther and Calvin, fearlessly and honestly makes tiie following declaration in his treaty : De Painitantla, 1 )is 5. " This institution of penance began rather of some tradition of the Old or New Testa- ment. But our divines, not advisedly considering what the old doctors do say, are deceived : that which they say of general and open confession, they wrest by and by to this secret and j^rivy kind of confession. It is a public fact, which no learned Roman Catholic has ever denied, that auricular confession became a dogma and obligatory practice of the church only at !»:;«:• AND TlIK CONFESSIONAI. OK KOMK. ^(>5 the council of I'.nable things tln' holy Apostolical See, which is the pivot upon which the whole Catholic Church revolves, was forced to endure, when jtrinces of the age, though Christians, arrogated to themselves the election of the Roman Pontiffs. Alas, the shame! alas, the grief! What monsters, hoirible to behold, were then intruded on the Holy See ! What evils ensued ! What tragedies they perpatrated ! With what pollutions was this See, though itself without spot, then stained ! With what corruptions infected ! IVit/i ivhat flit /lines s defiled ! And by these things blackened with perpetual infamy ! (Baronius, Annals, Anno 900.) " Est plane, ut vix aliquis credat, imrao, nee vix quidem sit c.tediturus, nisi suis inspiciat ipse oculis, manibuscpe contractat, quam indigna, quamquc turpia, atque deformia, execranda, insupcr et abominanda sit coacta pati sacrosancta apostolica sedes, in cujus cardine universa Ecclesia catholica vertitur, cum ijrincij)es saiculi hujus, quantumlibet christiani, hac tamen ex parte dicendi tyranni sa^vissimi, arrogaverunt sibi tirannice electionem Romanorum pontificum. Quot tunc ab eis, proh pudor ! proh dolor ! in candem sedem, angelis reverandam, visu horrenda intrusa sunt monstra ! Quot ex eis oborta sunt mala, consummate tragediae ! Quibus tunc ipsam sine macula et sine ruga contigit aspergi sordibus, putoribus infici, in quinati spurcitiis, ex hisgue perpetua infamia denigrari !"' AND THE CONFESSIONAL OF ROME 167 CHAPTER X. God compels the Cwrch of Rome to confess THE ABOMINATIONS OF AURICULAR CONFESSION. Romisli priests will resort to various means in order to deceive the people on the immorality resulting from auncular confession. One of their favorite stratagems IS to quote some disconnected passages from theologians, recommending -aution on the part of the priest in ques- tioning his penitents on delicate subjects, should he see or apprehend any danger for the latter ol being shocked by his questions. True, there are such prudent theolo- gians, who seem to realize more than others the real danger for the priest in confession. But those wise courseh^rs resemble very much a father who would Pllow li3 child to put his fingers in the fire while advis- ing him to be cautious lest he hould bum his fingers There is just as much wisdom in the one case as there would be in the other. Or what wouid you say of a brutal parent casting a young, weak, and inexperienced boy among wild beasts, with the foolish and cruel expec- tation that his prudence mi-ht save him from all injury ? Such theologians may be perfectly honest in giving such advice, although it is anything but wise or rea"^ sonable. But those are far from being honest or true who contend tliat the Church of Rome, in commanding PffT" i68 IJIE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, m I i every one to confess all his sins to the priests, has made an exception in lavor of sins against chastity. This is only so much dust thrown in the eyes of ignorant people to prevent them from seeing through the frightful mys- teries of confession. When the council of Latran decided that every adult, of either sex, should confess all their sins to a priest, at least once a year, there was no provision made for any special class of sins, not even for those committed against modesty or ])urity. And the council of Trent, when ratifying or renewing the previous decision, no ex- ception was made, either, of the sins in question. They were expected and had to be confessed, as all other sins. The law of both councils is still unrepealed and bind- ing for all sins, without any exception. It is imperative, absolute ; and every good Catholic, man or woman, must submit to it by confessing a// hia c^r her sins at least once a year. I have in my Ijand Butler's Catechism, approved by several bishops of Quebec. r)n page 6i, it reads that all penitents should exam.ine themselves on the capital sins, and confess them "all, without exce])tion, under penalty of eternal damnation." Therefore, the young and timid girl, the chaste and modest woman must think of shameful deeds and fill ihuir >iiinds with impure ideas, in order to confess to ;.'-•. unmarried man whatever they may be guilty of, how- ever repugnant may be to them such confession, or dangerous for the priest who is bound to hear, and even demand it. No one is exempt from tlie loathsome and often polluting task. JjoIIi pri'-st and penitent are required and compelled to go through the fiery ordeal of contamination and shame. They are bound, on eveiy AND THE CUNFtSSIOXAL OF ROME. 169 particular, the one to ask, and tlie other to answer, under penalty of eternal damnation. Such is t^ie rigorous, intlexible law of the Church of Rome with regard to confession. It is taught not only in works on theology or from the pulijit, but in prayer- books and various other religious publications. It is so deeply impressed in the minds of Romanists as to have become a part of their religion. Such is the law which the priest himself has to obey, and which puts his penitents at his own discretion. But there are husbands with a jealous disposition, who would little fancy the idea of bachelors confessing their wives, if they knew exactly what questions they have to answer in confession. There are fathers and mothers who don't like much to see their daughters alone with a man, behind a curtain, and who would certainly tremble for their honor and virtue if they knew all the abominable mysteries of confession. It is neces- sary, therefore, to keep the people, as much as possible, in ignorance, and prevent light from reaching that em- pire cf darkness, the confessional. In that view, con- fessors are advised to be cautious '* on those matters ; " to " broach these questions in a sort of covert way, and with the greatest reserve." For it is very desirable " not to shock modesty, neitlier frighten llie penitent nor grieve her." " Sins, however, must be confessed." Such is the prudent advice given to the confessor on certain occasions. Jn the hands or under the command of Liguori, Father Gury, Scavani, <»r other (asuists, the priest is a sort of general, sent, with his army, during the night, to storm a citadel or a sti()ng position, having for order to operate cautiously and before daylight. His mission is one of darkness and cunning, violence I" I;; 1 Hi' I'.i'l M 111!* m 170 THE PRIEST. THE WOMAN, and craelty ; for when the pope commands, the priest, as his loyal soldier, must be ready to obey. But many a time, after the place has been captured by dint of stra- tegy and secrecy, the poor soldier is left, badly wounded and completely disabled, on the battle-field. He has paid dearly for his victory ; and the conquered citadel has received an injury from which it may never reco\er. But the crafty priest has gained his point : lie has suc- ceeded in persuading his lady penitent that tlicre was no impropriety, that it was even necessary for them to have a parley on things that made her blush a few mo- ments before. She is so well convinced that she would swear that there is nothing wrong in confession. Tiuly this is a fulfilment of the words : *' Abyssus abyssum invocat." Have the Romish theologians Gury, Scavani, I.iguori, etc., ever been honest enough, in their works on con- fession, to say that the Most Holy God could never com- mand or require woman to degrade and pollute herself and the priest in pouring in the ear of a frail and sinful mortal, words unfit even for an angel ? No ; they were very careful not to say so ; for from that very moment, their shameless 1 ies would have been exposed ; the stupendous but weak structure of auricular confession would fall to the ground with sad havoc and ruin to its upholders. Men and women would open their eyes, and see its weakness and fallacy. " If God," they' might say, " can forgive our most grievous sins, against modes- ty, he can and will certainly do the same with those of less gravity ; therefore there is: no necessity or occasion for us to confess to a priest." But those shrewd casuists know too well that by such frank confession, they would soon lose their hold on AND i:^E CONFESSIONAL OF ROME. 171 Catholic populations, especially on women, by whom, through confession, they rule the world. They much prefer to keep their gripe on benighted minds, frightened consciences, and trembling souis. No wonder, tlien, that they fully endorse and confirm the decisions of the councils of Latran and Trent ordering ''that all sins must be confessed such as God knows them." No won- der that they try their l^est or worst to overcome the natural repugnance of women for making such confes- sions, and to conceal the terrible dangers for the priests in hearing the same. But God, in His infinite mercy, and for the sake of truth, has compelled, as it were, the Church of Rome to acknowledge the moral dangers and corrupting tenden- cies of auricular confession. In His eternal wisdom, he knew that Roman Catholics would close their ears to whatever might be said of the demoralizing influbnce of that institution ; that they would even reply with insult and fallacy to the words of truth kindly addressed to them : as the Jews of old returned hatred and insult to the good Saviour who was bringing to them the glad tidings of a free salvation. He knew that Romish devotees, led astray by their priests, as were the poor blinded Jews, would call the apostles of truth liars, seducers, possessed of the devil, as Christ was constantly called a demoniac, an impostor, and finally put to death by his false accusers. But God, just as compassionate now as he was then for the i)oor benighted and deluded souls, has nought a real miracle to open the eyes of their minds, and com- pel them, as it were, to believe us, when we sav, on his authority, that auricular confession was invented by Satan to ruin both the priest and his female penitents, 172 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, I !li>< for time and eternity. For, wliat we would never liave dared to say of ourself to the Roman Catholics with regard to what frequently happens between their priests and their wives and daughters, either during or aftei' con- fession, God has constrained the Churt:h of Rome to acknowledtre herself in revealln-jr thin^rs that would have seemed incredible had they come simply from our mouth or our pen. In this, as in other instances, that apostate church has unwittingly been the mouth-piece of God for the accomplishment of his great and merciful ends. Listen to the questions that the Church of Rome, through her theologians, fjuts to every priest after he has heard the confession of your wives or daughters : 1. " Ncmne infer audi'etidas confcssioiies (jiiasdam propositi guestioncs circa scxfum dccalogi priTCcptum ciun intcntioJic liihidinosA ?" (Aliroir du Clerge, p. 582.) While hearing confessions, have I not asked questions on sins against the sixth (the seventh in the Decalogue) connnandment with the intention of satisfying my evil passions ? Such is the man, O mothers and daughters, to whom you dare to unbosom the most secret as well as the most shameful actions. You kneel down at his feet and whisper in his ear your most intimate thoughts and desires, and your most polluting deeds ; because your church, by dint of cunning and sophistry, has succeed ed in persuading you that there was no impropriety or danger in doing so ; that the man whom you chose for your spiritual guide and confident could never be tempted or tainted by such foul recitals. But that same church, through some mysterious providences, is made to acknowledge, in her own books, her own lies. In spite of herself, she admits that there is real danger in confes- AND THE CONI'KSSIONAL or ROME. your cceed )pnety chose 'cr be same ide to sjnte lonfcs- sion, botli for the woman and for the priest ; tliat will- ingly or otherwise, and sometimes both unawares, they lay for each other dangerous snares. The Church of Ron- ,', as if she had an evil conscience for allowing her priest to hold such close and secret converse with a woman, on such delicate subjects, keeps, as it were, a watchful eye on him while the poor misguided woman is pouring in his ear the filthy burthen of her soul ; and as soon as she is off, questions the priest as to the purity of his motives, the honesty of his intentions in putting the requisite questions. Have you not, slie asks him immediateiy, under the pretence of helping that woman in her confession, put to her certain questions simply in order to gratify your lust, and with the object of satisfy- ing your evil propensities ? 2. " Nonne inunus audicmii confessions suscc/'i\ aut ptregt ex prava incontincntuc appeta ? " (Idem, p. 582.) Have 1 not repaired to the confessional and heard' confessions with the intention of gratifying my ovil pas- sions ? O, ye women, who tremble like slaves at the feet of the priests, you sometimes admire the palrience and cha- rity of those good (?) priests, who are willing to spend so many long and tedious hours in hearing the confes- sion of your secret sins ; and you hardly know how to express your gratitude for so muc h kindness and charity. But hush 1 Listen to the voice of God speaking to the conscience of the priest, through the Church of Rome ! " Have you not " she asks him, *' heard the confession of women simi)ly to foster or gratify the groveling pas- sions of your fallen nature and coniipt heart ? " ricase notice, it is not I, or the enemies of your reli- gion, who put to your priests the above questions : it is ^74 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN, m I ,. Mi- r-i i » lit CjOvI liinisclf who, in his pity and compassion, coni])cls your own church to ask sucli questions ; that your eyes may be opened, and that you may be rescued from all the dangerous obscenities and tiic humlHating and degra- ding slavery of auricular confession. It is God's will to deliver you from such bondage and degradation, lii his tender mercies, he has provided means to drag you out of that cess-pool called confession; to break the chains which bind you to the feet of a miserable and l)lasphemous sinner called confessor, who, under the pre: ence of being able to pardon your sins, usurps the place of your oaviour and your God ! For while you are whispering your sins in his ear, God says to him, through his churrli, in tones loud enough to be heard : " In hearing tlie confession of these women, are you not actuated by lust, spurred by evil passions ? " Is this not sufficient to warn you of the danger of auricular confession ? Can you now with any sense of safely or proj^riety, come to tl)at priest, for whom your very confession may be a snare, a cause of fall or fearful temptation ? Can you with a particle of honor or modesty willingly expose yourself to impure desires or shameful deeds ? Can you, with any sort of womanly dignity con sent to entrust that man with your inmost thoughts and desires, your most humiliating and secret actions, when you know that that man may not have any higher object in listening to your confession than a lustful curiosity or a sinful desire of exciting his evil passions ? 3. " Nonne ex auditis in confcssiones occasioncni sumpst p-enitentes utrius'juc sexus ad pcccaridam soUicitandi ? '' ibidem, p. 58c) I AND T;ie CO.VFESSIO.VAl OP ROME. ,^5 , Have I not availed myself of what I heard in confes- sion to u,duny deny that your confessor has ever said or done nnythmg .hat might lead you to sin or even commit any breach of propriety or modesty. You feel perfectly safe on that score and see no danger to apprehend. ' Let me tell you, good ladies, that you are altogether too conndent and in the mo.t fatal delusion. YotlZ church, through the merciful and warning voice of God speakmgto the conscience of your ov™ theoIogTans feSs you that there is a real and eminent danger the ; you fancy yourself m perfect securitv. You may neve have uspected the danger, but i, is there, withi/the wilt of ear ltd':."? r"'' """' " " ""'^"^ ^ ^--ej hearts and that of your confessor. He may hitherto S ":Sh Tor^^irov'^r "' ''-^- ^-^ decency. But uo^hinTwrnV ouTt i:; " ^ " tempted ; and nothing could shield you from his attempt on your v.nue should he give way to temptaton a cases are not wanting to prove the truth of my a ertion You are sad y mistaken, in a f Use and dangerous cu rtv V ou are perhaps, although unawares, ondieve^br nk precpice, where so many have fallen through t^eir of t' ■.' I it- \i. i- ' 176 I HE I'KlLsr, IIIK WUMAN, blind confidence in dicir own strcngdi or their confessor's prudence and sanctity. 'S'our own church is very anxious about your safety ; she trembles for your innocence and j^urity. In her fear, she cautions the i)riest to be watch- ful over his wicked passions and human frailty. How dare you ])rctend to be stronger and more holy ? Why should you so wilfully imperil your chastity or modesty? Why expose yourself to danger, when it could be 5^0 easily avoided ? How can you ]>e so rash, .so 6,.*"oid of common prudence and modesty as to shamelessly put yourselves in a position to tempt and be tempted, and thereby incur your temporal and eternal i)crdition? 4. " Nonne cxtm tribunal^ vcl in ipso coufcssionis actii^ alitjuii dixi aut egi cum intcntlonc diahoUca has pcrsotuis scdiicmdi} (Idem, idem.) Have T not, either during or after confession, done or said anything with a diabolical intention of seducing my female penitents ? " What arch-enemy of our holy religion is so bold and impious as to put to our saintly priests such an impudent and insulting question? may ask some of our Roman Catholic readers. It is easy to answer. This great enemy of your religion is no less than a justly offended Cod, admonishing and reproving your priests for expos- ing both you and themselvesto dangerous allurementsand seductions. It is his voice speaking to their consciences, and warning them of the danger and corruption of auri- cular confession. It says to them : Beware ! for ye might be tempted, as surely you will, to do or say some- thing against honor and purity. Husbands and fathers, who rightly value the honor of your wives and daughters more than all treasures, who consider it too precious a boon to be exposed to the dangers of pollution, and who i; AND THE CONTESSION'AL OF ROME. 177 would prefer to lose your life a tliousanrl times than to sec tlioseyou love most on cartli fnll in tlie snares of the seducer, read once more nnrl j.onder Mhat your ' Inirch asks the priest after he has heard your Avlfc or (laughter in confession : "Have you not, either during or after confession, done or said anything with a dlabolF- cal intention of seducing your female penitents? " If your priest remains deaf to these words addressed l<> his conscience, you cannot help giving heed to them and understanding their lull significance. Vou can not be easy and fear nothing from that priest In those close interviews with your wives and daughters, when his superiors and your own Church tremble for him, and question his purity and honesty. 7'hcy see a great danger lor both the confessor and his penitent ; for they know that confession has many a time been the pretence or the cause of the most shameful seductions. If there was no real danger for the chastltv of womer, HI confessing to a man their most secret sins, do'you believe that your popes and theologians would be so stupid as to acknowledge it and put to confessors ques- tions that would tre most insulting and out of place, should there be no occasion for them ? Is It not presumption and folly on your part to think that there is no danger, when the Church of Rome tel^s you positively that there is danger, and uses the strong- est terms m expressing her uneasiness and apprehen- sion ? AV'hy, your church sees the most pressing reasons to fear for the honor of your wives and daughters, as well as for the chastity of her priest : and still you remain unconcerned, indifferent to the fearful i,crll to which they are exposed I Arc you like the Jewish people of old, to M ■>'iu ^^_.. A/. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. '<- y^ 1.0 I.I III 112,5 32 1^ 1.25 III 1.4 Z2 [ 2.0 1= 1.6 V, om >^ S'W, -^ ^•' - ■ <5> a* O Z/^'' / Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14580 (716) 872-4503 W, (/x m I I ^O ;\ <0 y^ I ^ 178 Till-; j'RiKs'j", 'I III'; Woman. whom it was said : " Vlviw w indeed, lnii understand not ; and sec vc kuleed, Init |)^i(ei\e not ?" (Isa. \ i, ()). But if you see or Mispet i the danger you are warned of; if tlie lye ofvour uitelliuenee can tathoin the dread- ful abyss where llic dearest ohjects of ^our heart are in dani^^er (jf lallinj^, ilieii it liehoxes \ou to keep ihein from the paths that had to the teailul t hasm. Do not wait till it is too kite, when they arc loo near tlie j^reci- pice to be res( ued. \'ou may think the danger to be far off, while it is near at hand. Profit by the sad experience of so man\ \ictims of ( onfession wlio have been irretrieval)Iy lost, irrecoverably ruined t"or time and eternity. Tlie voice of your conscience, of honor, of God himself, tells you that it may become too kite to save them from destru(;tion, through your neglect and procrastination. While thanking Cod for having i)re- served them from teiiijjtations tliat have ];roved fiital to so ma"y married or unmarried women, do not lose a single moment in taken the necessary means to keep them from temptation and falls. Instead of allowing them to go and kneel at the feet of a man to o1)tain the remission of their sins, lead them to the cross, the only jilace where they can secure pardon and peace everlasting. Andv.hy, after so many unfruit- ful attem])ts, should they try any longer to wash them- selves in a ])ud(lle, when the pure waters of eternal life are offered them so freely, through Christ Jesus, their only Saviour and Mediator ? Instead of seeking their jjardon from a poor and miserable sinner, weak and temi)ted as they are, let them go to Christ, the only strong and pcriert man, the only hope and salvation of the world. O poor deluded Catholic woman ! listen no longer to [ AND THE CONFr.S.-;iONAL nr K">Mr. T70 the deceiving words of the Cliurch of Rome, wh-- Ikis no pardon, no peace for you, but only snares; ^vho oisers vou thraldom and shame in return for the confession -f your sins ! I5ut listen rather to the invitations cf your Saviour, who has died on the cross that you migit ]ie saved, and who alone can give rest to your weary soi.ls. Harken to His words when he says to you : " Come to me, O ye heavily laden, crushed, as ii w.re, und.r ihe burden of your sins, and I shall give you rest .... I ^'."i the phvsician of your souls. . . .Tho.e who are well have no need of a phvsician. but those who are sick .... C ome then to me and ye shall be healed .... 1 have sent back nor hxst none who have come t.. me...- Invoke m> name.... believe in me. . . .r.pcnt . . . -love (.od and vour neighbor as yourself, and you shall be saved. . • • For all who belicNe in me and call upon my name, shal be saved. . . .Wh.n 1 am raised up l>etween heaven and earth, I shall draw every one to me " O mothers and daughters, instead of gomg to the priest for pardon and salvation, go to Jesus, who is so pressinglv mviting you. and the more so as you ha^e more need of divine help and grace. Iaou U >ou are as i^reat a sinner as >Lu-y Magdalene you can, hke her wash the feet of the Saviour with the flowing tears of your repentance and your love, and like her, receive the pardon of your sins. . To Jesus then, and to him alone for the confession and pardon of your .ins : for there only you can fmd peace, light, and life t l8c» THE PRIES r, THE \VOMA>/, CHAPTER XT. » .SOMHfJF THK .MAf IKRS ON' WHlLil THE TKIKST OF Ki »ME MUSI (jUl'.STION HIS I'KMTENTS. A CliAl'li;R IdR J)li; M)iN.SlDEK.\ll(J.\ Ul LECilSLVruKS, HUSBANDS, AM> lAlHERS. Dens wants tlie ronfc*ssor<; to interrogate on the UA- lowing- matters : - 1 . " J'cccant Li\ores,f|ua? siisccptmn \ iri semen ejic iunt^ vel ejiccre fonantur." (Dens, torn. vii. \>. 147). 2. " I'ccciint ('Dnjuges mortalitor, si i'opula, inc:e[)ta, <"ohil)eaMt seminationem." 3. '"Si \ LI- jam seminavcrit, duhium fit an femina lethal iter pe( cat, si se retrahat a seminando ; aut peccat U'thalitrr \ ir non expcctando seminationem uvoris ' U>- '5 5)- 4. '* IVccanl ronjii'iit's inter sc rina artiim conjugalcni. Debet servari modus, sive situs ; imo ut non servetur debitum vas, sed copula liabeatur in ^ase pnupostcro, alioquoquenon naturali. Si fiat accedendo apostero, a latere, stando, sedendo, vel si vir sit suecumbus" (p, 1 66). 5. "Jmpotentia. Est incapacitas perficicndi copulam carnalem perfectam cum seminatione viri in vase se debito, sou, do sc, aptam gcnerationi. Vel, ut si mulier sit nimis arctarcspectuunius viri, non respectii altcrius ''. (vol. vii. p. 273). AST) Tllf; COXFESSrOXAL OF ROME. i8t 0. " Xolatiir quod pollutio, m nuillcril.us possit pcrfici, ita lit semen earuni non efnuat extra membrum geniialo! Indiruun istius allegat Lilluart, si scilicet mulicr sensiat seminis resolulioneni < uiu magno voluptalis sensu, qua completa, passio satialur" (voL iv. p. iG6). 7- " Uxor se accusans, in confossionc, quod ncgaverit del)ituni, intcrrogetur an t;x j-lcno n;.ore juris °sui id petiverit" (vol. ^ii.. p. i6S). •S. '' Confessarius panitenteii), .pii < onfitotur se pec- tassecum saccrdote, vel sollicitatani al. eo ad turpia, potest interrogare utnim ille sa< ( nios sit t jus confe^- sarius, an in lonfessione sollitavorit ' (^\ ol. vi. p. 294), There are a great many other unmentionable things "n whi.h Dens, in his fourth, fifth, and s.-vc-nth volume"!, reiiiures the confessor to ask from his jn-iiitcnt. which f (jmit. Novv let us come to Liguori. That so-called Saint, [.iguori is not less diabolically impure tliaii Dens, in his questions to the wfiuien. liiit I wlH cite only two of the things on which the spiritual physician uf the i'oj)e must not fail to examine his spiritual i)atient : 1. '■ Oua;rat an sit scmj)rr mortale, si vir immitat pudenda in os 11 x oris ? . . . . # Wruis aflirmo (fuia, in hoc actu, o]) calorem oris. adest i)roximum periculum pollutionis, et videtur n«\a spe(ies luxurix' contra naturam, dicta, irruminatio." 2. " Kodem modo, Sanche;^ damnat \ irum de mortali, 'JUL in actu copuhe, immiteret (h'gitum in vas pnvpn.-, ieruni uxoris ; quia, ut ait, in hoc actu adest affectus ad Sodomiam " (Liguori, tom. vi. p. 935). 'I'he celebrated IJurchard, Di.-hop of Worms, has made a book of the questions which liad to be put by the con- fessors to their penitents of both sexes. During several lS2 THE PRIEST, THE WOMAN', centuries it was the standard ];ook of the priests of Romo. Tliough tliat work to-day is out of print, Dons, Liguori, Debreysne, cSic, cS:c., have ransacked its polluting j)ai;cs, and given them to study to the modern confessors, in order to question their j'enitents. J will select only a few questions of the Roman Catholic bishop lo (he young men : — 1. '• Fecisti solus tecum fornicationem ut quidam facere solent ; ita dico ut ipse tuum membrum virile in manum tuam acciperes, ct sic duceres prx'putium tuum. et manu jjropria commoveres, ut, sic, per illniii ddec tationem semen projiceres?" 2. "Fornicationem fecisti cum masculo intra coxas ; ita dico ut tuum virile membrum intra coxas aUeiiih. mitteres, et sic agitando semen funderes?" 3. " Fecisti fornicationem, ut quidem facere solcnt, at luuju virile membrum in lignum pertbratum, aiit in aliquod hujus modi mitteres, et, sic, jter illain < Dinino rionem et delectationem semen projiceres?"' 4. " Fee isti fornicationem contra naturam, id est, cum mabculis \el animalibus coire, id est < um e!eiit. ut suLxumbercs aliquo jumento et illud jumentmn ad ..oituni qualieuiiKiue i)osses ingcnio, ut sic coiret tecum ? '' The celebrated Debrcync has written a whole book, coinjx)bcd 01' the most incredible details of impurities, to instruct the young confessors in the art of qacsticmmg theu- i>enitcnts. The name of the book is " AfcechiologT,'* or "treaty on all the sins against the six (seven) and tl^ nme commandments, as well as on all the qu^tions of the married life which refer to tb'rm.'' U'hat work is mu( h approved and studied hi die Church of Kome. I do not know that the world hzs ever seen anything comparable to the {"ilthy and infamous details of that book. J will cite only two of the quesrions which Debrcync wants the confessor to put :o his wnii- tcnt. To tlie yuung men (page 95) tlie confessor wiU ask : — ••Ad cognoscenduia an us(iue aJ poHutioneta se tetigerint, quando tempore et quo fine se tetigenns ; 3n tunc quosdam motus in corpore experti fuerint, tt'j>tT •iuantuiii tcmporis spatium ; an t^^ssantibus tactibus nihil IS4 ■JUK I'klKST, TITE ^\OMAX', insolitum ct turpc acridcrit ; an non longe majorcm in 'orpniit voluptalem pcrccpcrint in fine tactuum quam in eorum prin« ii)io ; an turn in fine quando ma-nani dclfctationem c arnalem scnscriint, omncs motus corporis cessavcrint ; an non madcfarti Aierint ? " Sec , 8c. To the girl tlic confessor will ask :— *^Qua; sesc tetigisse falentur, an non aii.incni pruri.um estinguerc tcntavcrit, ct utruni pruritus iljc ccssaverit rmn magnani senscrint voluptatcin : an tunc, ipsiniel tactns cessaverint ? " ^c, Sec. The Right Rev. Kenri( k, late Bishop of Boston, I'niU-d States, in his book for the tearhingof confessnrs ^n wliat matters they must question their penitents, has i:t)c following, whicli I select among thousands as impure ziind danmal)le to the soul and body : — "• Uxor qua:, in usu matrimonii, se veriit, ut non recipiat semen, vel statim post illud acccptum surgit, ui esjx;llatur, lethalitcr peccat; sed opus non est ut din rcsupina jaceat, quum matrix, brevi, semen aUrahat, ct iBox, ail tissime claudatur '' (vol. iii. p. 31;). *^* Pucllic ])atienti licet se vertcre, et conari ut non rcripiat semen, quod injuria ei immittitur ; scd, excep- tiiiii,non 1i(et expellere, quia jam possessionem pacificam habet, el baud absque injuria natumc ejicerelur" (torn. -^Conjugcs senes i)lerumquc coeunt absque culpa, Ikcl contingat semen extra vas effundi ; id enim ].-r arx-adens fit ex infirmitate natune. (^uod si vires adeo sint fractre ut nulla sit seminandi intra vas spes, jam uequcunt jure conjugii uti " (torn. iii. p. 317). lajorcm in -um quam > magnani us corporis n jruri.um ccssaverit ', i])siijicl f Boston, confessors tents, has as impure , ur nun sur-it, lit rst ut dill irahat, ct i ut non d, cxcep- pacificani ir" (torn. le culpa, enim jjcr ires adeo ;pcs, jam