**i* r - \ UNI*. OF CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGELES THE CONVENT; A NARRATIVE, FOUNDED ON FACT BY R. McCRINDELL, AUTHORESS OF THE " SCHOOL-GIRL IN FRANCE," ''THE ENGLISH GOVERNESS," ETC. Thy word ii a lamp unto my feet, and a lijht unto my path." ?*. cxiz. 105 NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER, 53 CANAL ST. 1843 PREFACE. THE following pages are presented to the public under peculiar, and somewhat melancholy, circum- stances. The Authoress, no stranger in the literary world (having acquired some degree of fame by her former works), spent a great part of the last year of her life, in preparing the narrative now published. I have said the " circumstances were melancholy," yet why should I say so ? To her emancipated spirit most joyful has been the change. Her life was one of painful suffering, and death, to her, brought no sting. For many years she had been a faithful follower of Jesus, and, in her hour of utmost need, she re- ceived that support He never fails to give to those who trust in Him. Most anxious were her desires to benefit the rising race, and to set before them, in all their soul-de- stroying power, the doctrines of Popery. Having passed several years in Roman Catholic countries, and witnessed much of its persecuting spirit, she was well prepared to show the system practised to deceive the simple-minded ; and many 21313B7 IV PREFACE. hours of bodily suffering were endured, while en- deavoring, by her writings, to impress upon the minds of British youth the blessing and privilege they enjoy, in having the Word of God taught them from their youth up ; and daily did she pray, that 1 they, like the youthful Timothy, might know " the Scriptures, which are able to make them wise unto salvation." That her efforts, for the benefit of the young, have not been in vain, pleasing evidences have been given ; her " labor of love " has been acknowledged by her Heavenly Master, in more than one instance. Her " SCHOOL-GIRL in FRANCE " has been particu- larly useful, and as the present work was undertaken and carried on in a prayerful spirit, and with a view to His glory, no doubt that He, who has promised His blessing to those who "ask any thing" in His name, will vouchsafe to acknowledge the present attempt to spread the knowledge of the truths con- tained in His own holy word. The outline of the Narrative is founded on fact. The substance is true, but woven together by such circumstances as her imagination suggested as likely to occur to persons situated as were the novices. CLAREMONT HOUSE, Dec. 11, 1847. THE CONVENT, CHAPTER I. ' THE CONVENT BELLS. Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the living faith, giving heed to seducing spirits, and doc- trines of devils ; Speaking lies in hypocrisy : having their conscience soared with a hot iron ; Forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats, which God has created to be received with thanksgiving of them which be- lieve and know the truth. 1 TIMOTHY iv. 1, 2, 3. " LIST ! oh, list to the convent-bells !" ex- claimed Cecilia Montague, as leaning over tbe side of the luxurious pleasure-boat, around whose gilded prow the deep-blue waves of the beauteous Mediterranean sportively danced and sparkled, she bent a delighted ear to the sweet, plaintive melody, that came pealing over the waters, from the spire of a convent at a short distance from the shore. It was the vesper chime, and the sounds seemed to derive addi- tional softness from the liquid element over which they w r ere borne, and the balmy even- ing air on which they floated. The sun was 1* THE CONVEX!" BELLS. just sinking below the horizon, and his parting rays tinged with a golden splendor the placid bosom of the sea, and the lofty turrets of the neighboring monastery. The lovely coast of Sicily, along which they were sailing, presented at every turn objects of the most varied and romantic beauty ; and there was a feeling of calm and delicious enjoyment in the hour and the scene, which was well calculated to hush every jarring passion into peace. " Do let us step ashore, mamma, and go to see the evening service in that convent-chapel. The sound of the bells is so sweet ! and, listen ! do you not hear a distant murmur of music, like the echo of seraphic voices ?" " Silly, romantic girl P.exCTaimed Mrs. Mon- tague, a quiet, gentle, good-natured woman, " I really doubt if I am doing right in indulging your wayward fancies." Yet Mrs. Montague, in spite of this doubt, gave the necessary direc- tions to the boatmen, and, with the assistance of a Sicilian count, who accompanied them, the two ladies were soon landed, and entering the fine old avenue that led to the convent. It was a venerable Gothic building, in a state of excellent preservation, and the wilderness of chestnut, olive, and orange-trees by which it was surrounded, invested it with an air of som- bre majesty, that suited well with the charac- ter of the edifice, and the purpose to which it THE CONVENT BELLS. 7 was devoted. The wild solitude and pictur- esque seclusion of the place did not fail to cap- tivate the imagination of our young enthusiast. The party followed the windings of a noble avenue, till they came to the chapel, which they immediately entered. A few poor old people, from the neighboring cottages, com- posed the whole visible congregation ; but, be- yond a double grating, rendered impervious by a curtain of crimson silk, were heard the appar- ently fervent responses of the nuns, while the officiating priest proceeded with the usual Latin service. The effect was considerably height- ened by the rich notes of the organ, and the melody of several very beautiful voices, whose thrilling accents made the fretted roof resound with a music almost celestial; and while the ear drank in their fascinating sweetness, and the heart yielded to the enchanting spell, the mind did not pause to reflect, that those sounds were repeated in an unknown tongue, and were, therefore, neither the utterance of the understanding, nor the language of enlightened devotion. The choral strain had ceased, the nuns had retired, and the few peasants were leaving the chapel, before the entranced Cecilia and her party moved from their places. At length, Mrs. Montague rose to depart, and after many a " longing lingering look" of admiration from her daughter, at the turreted walls, and 8 THE CONVENT BELLS. lovely woods of the convent of Santa Rosalia, they re-entered their boat, and returned to their abode at Palermo. " Oh ! mamma, how I should like to be a nun !" exclaimed Cecilia, suddenly arousing her- self from a long and deep reverie, during which she had neither heard the flattering speeches, nor noticed the assiduous attentions of her Sicil- ian suitor. " How lovely the solitude ; how sweet the quiet of that secluded spot ! Surely, none of the cares, anxieties, sins, or sorrows of life can gain admittance there ! The life of the nuns must glide away in one uninterrupted flow of calm and peaceful serenity, hallowed by the glow of seraphic devotion ; and they must almost insensibly pass from earth to heaven, with the blissful certainty of a glorious and happy future. Oh ! that such a lot were mine !" A deep sigh attested the sincerity of the wish, and the poor girl really thought her- self actuated by the purest feelings of true and spiritual piety, while thus displaying her utter ignorance both of her own heart, and of the nature of real religion. Her mother was some- what more enlightened, but the worldliness of her character was conspicuous in her reply. ''Cecilia! how ridiculously you talk! Can any thing be more foolish than the idea of your becoming a nun ! You, who are so fond of gayety, and so well fitted to shine in the brill- THE CONVENT BELLS. 9 iant circles of fashionable society ! Why, you would be miserable before the end of a week ; pining after those amusements and pleasures which you now enjoy, and which, I am sure, are quite indispensable to your happiness." " Indeed, mamma, you are greatly mistaken in your opinion. I assure you, that, although I seem so fond of gayety, I am very often, not only tired, but heartily sick of it. The pleas- ures of the world do not yield me half the satis- faction I expected from them ; and, now that their novelty is past, they generally leave be- hind them a painful void, and a feeling of self- reproach, which make me often unhappy. I am convinced that religion would make me much happier." " Come, come, child, no more of this non- sense. If you wish to become religious, you can do so, without shutting yourself up in a convent. You greatly deceive yourself, in thinking there is nothing but peace and hap- piness in those places. Depend upon it, there is quite as much of the spirit of the world in them as there is outside their w T al!s ; while the passions, left to prey upon the very vitals of their unhappy victims, cause quite as much misery there as elsewhere. Besides, you know you are a Protestant, and could not enter a Roman Catholic convent." Cecilia was silenced, but not convinced. 10 THE CONVENT BELLS. Her ardent imagination was strongly im- pressed by the kind of mysterious prestige that seems to hover round a convent-life ; and, though the impression was at length effaced by newer and more exciting images, yet it greatly tended to prepare her for an easy sur- render to the wiles and fascinations of the Romish system. Mrs. Montague and her daughter were, at this time, peculiarly circumstanced. They had, some years before, accompanied Mr. Montague to Constantinople, where he held a lucrative appointment, connected with the English embassy. Death had, however, about a twelvemonth before the period of our story, deprived them of an indulgent husband and father ; and they had availed themselves of the first favorable opportunity for returning to England, where they possessed considerable property. But their voyage had been unfor- tunate ; their vessel was captured by a French sh,p of war, stationed in the Mediterranean, and they were taken as prisoners to Sicily, which was then under the domination of the French sovereign. They were, however, treated with the greatest politeness, and al- lowed to reside in lodgings of their own, un- der the surveillance of the French governor. This gentleman used every means to lighten their captivity ; they were allowed to associate THE CONVENT BELLS. 11 freely with the best society in the island, both French and native ; parties of pleasure and delightful excursions, were continually planned for their amusement; and Cecilia, being not only a very pretty girl, but known to be an heiress, soon became the object of pursuit to numberless suitors. Not many weeks after the conversation just related, all the fashionable world of Palermo assembled at the principal church, to witness her abjuration of Protestantism ; and but an- other month had elapsed, when the rich, the gay, the beautiful Cecilia Montague bestowed her hand on the Conte Leonelli, and the whole island rang with the fetes that were given to celebrate the event. Mrs. Montague's objec- tions had been overcome, and she consented to spend the remainder of her days in the su- perb mansion of her daughter. And was that convent of Santa Rosalia that venerable and interesting edifice, with its sweet scenery, and its lovely air of seclusion and tranquillity was it really the abode of peace, forgetfulness of the world, and undis- turbed happiness ? Let us take a peep into its interior, and we shall be able to judge. On the same beautiful evening which has been already mentioned, but a few hours later, when the moon in tranquil majesty was hold- ing her court in the deep blue expanse, amidst 12 THE CONVENT BELLS. hosts of brilliant stars, and the delicious re- pose of nature was only interrupted by the sweetly- plaintive voice of the nightingale, two ladies were walking in the convent-garden, and conversing together in low and cautious tones. They kept their walk sedulously confined to the most shady parts, and were evidently anx- ious to escape observation. They were both interesting in their ap- pearance, yet very different in person. The younger was a blooming girl of about sixteen, tall and graceful, with the sparkling Italian eye, but fairer in complexion than the natives of the south generally are. There was a laughing sprightliness in her countenance, but ill-disguised by an affected gravity, and its prevailing expression was that of ingenuous and happy youth, but lately emerged from the careless playfulness of childhood. Her companion was, in many respects, a perfect contrast to the happy-looking girl. Her age might be about twenty ; her com- plexion was of the dark hue which the tints of health render so rich and glowing ; but her cheek wore a paleness that was almost death- like, and her eyes, of the deepest and most striking expression, were clouded by a melan- choly which might almost have been called despair. It was a face of sad and touching beauty, and there was something very painful THE CONVENT BELL.S. 13 in its character of silent anguish, varied by occasional flashes of mild and troubled passion. They both wore the white veil of the nov- ices ; and from the first part of their conver- sation, did not seem to have been long ac- quainted. " Dear signora," said the younger, then, correcting herself, she changed the expression into " Dear sister," " I am very sorry to see you so sad. You have now been here a whole week, and I have never once seen you smile. But, pray, let us get deeper into this grove, for, though I could not refuse to walk with you in the garden, after all the family were retired to rest, as I thought, I might, perhaps, be of some service to you, yet I am not quite sure that I am doing right, and I fear the madre would be highly displeased if she knew of our being out at this hour." " For myself I care not !" replied the other lady, in a tone of reckless determination, " but, for your sake, gentle girl, I w r ould not willingly draw their observation upon us. / am quite resigned to any thing they may inflict upon me. I have neither joy nor hope on this side the grave, and it is of little consequence how the short remnant of my wretched life may be passed ; indeed, I rejoice that I may have the opportunity here of atoning for my sins by misery, and every sort of privation, and so, 14 THE CONVENT BELLS. perhaps, attaining to forgiveness, and future peace." " You have drawn a very gloomy picture in your own imagination, of the life we lead here. I assure you, you are mistaken, and that we are generally very happy. We have, of course, penances to perform, or endure, when we have done wrong ; but, otherwise, we enjoy a very peaceful and agreeable life." " What ! with such a superior over you as the mad re Santa Teresa ! I am sure her ap- pearance and manners are haughty and austere enough to repulse and frighten any body !" " She is very strict, certainly, and her man- ners are not prepossessing. She is not at all like our late dear madre. You must know that she has not been long our superior. She was, for about one year, sub-superior, under our late ex- cellent and beloved madre Santa Maddalena, who had been at the head of this convent for thirty years. Oh ! she was a kind and amiable superior ! She brought me up from my in- fancy, and was indeed a mother to me. We all loved her with the most devoted affection, and her death was a bitter and heart-rending grief to us. Every day since, we seem to feel her loss more and more, for her successor is very different, 'and has introduced severities into the convent which we never knew before, THE CONVENT BELLS. ' 15 and which make our lives much less comfort- able than they used to be." " Poor child !" exclaimed the other lady, in a tone of compassion, " and have you then been here ever since your infancy ?" " Even so, sister, I was devoted to God be- fore my birth, and brought hither as soon as I was weaned, and able to walk." " Are you an orphan, then, Rosa ?" " No, signora ; I have both a father and mother, and also a brother and sister." " Who are your parents, then, and from what possible motive could they sacrifice so sweet a child ?" " My mother is Contessa di Belfiore, in her own right ; but she married an English gentle- man of the name of Melville. It was a clan- destine match ; they eloped into France, where they were united, first by a Catholic priest, and afterwards by a Protestant minister, as they were of different religions. My father has, since then, embraced the true faith ; but after her return to Sicily, my mother's conscience was so troubled by the sin she had committed, in marrying a heretic, especially as the rites of the church were refused her in consequence of it, that she made a solemn vow to devote her first-born daughter to the service of God, with a dower of considerable amount. Thus she expiated her offence, and reconciled herself to 16 THE CONVENT BELLS. the church, into whose bosom my father also was soon after received. Hence, I have never known any other home than this house ; and, through the tender care of the good madre, and the kindness of the nuns, my life was one con- tinued scene of sunshine, till within the last three months, when her lamented death, and the very opposite character and conduct of her successor, have thrown a heavy gloom over all our former happiness." " And do you ever see your parents, or your brother and sister ?" " Oh ! yes ; my dear papa comes very often to see me, and so does my brother, whenever he is at home ; for he has always been enthu- siastically fond of the sea, and nothing could prevent him from entering the navy. My mother and sister also come sometimes ; but all the community are like mothers and sisters to me, except the superior, and two or three of the nuns who came with her, and whose favor I have not been able to gain, though I have always done all I could to please them." " Poor child ! How much I pity you ! but why should I say so ? You are happy in your innocence and ignorance ; you have never known any other kind of life ; and, therefore, I have rather reason to envy you." " But, dear signora, vou have not told me THE CONVENT BELLS. 17 why you asked me to take this midnight- walk, nor what I can do to serve you." " Rosa !" exclaimed the other lady passion- ately, grasping both the hands of her young companion, while a bright beam of moonlight, streaming down through an opening in the thick chestnut-trees above her head, strongly marked the contrast between her pale and agitated countenance, and the smiling serenity of that on which she gazed. " Rosa ! I have watched every face in this house, ever since I have been here, with the most anxious desire to select a friend, to whom I could communicate my wretched history, and my miserable feelings, and from whom I might hope to receive sym- pathy, kindness, affection, and advice. I have seen none but yours, to whom I could venture to open my heart. The superior is to me, a woman of most repulsive appearance, and, among all the nuns, I have seen nothing but in- dications of senseless bigotry, doting supersti- tion, absurd frivolity, malignant censoriousness, and all-pervading selfishness. In no counte- nance but yours can I trace either mental re- finement, true sensibility, frankness, or genuine kindness and feeling. You are very young, it is true ; but yet I feel that I can trust you, and that your friendship will be a consolation to me." The countenance of the young girl assumed 18 THE CONVENT BELLS. an expression of doubt, and almost of fear, as she replied, " Sister, you are much too severe in your opinion and remarks. I assure you there are many of the nuns whom, when you know them better, you will find very excellent and amiable women. For myself, I feel much obliged by your good opinion, but pardon me if I rather dread than wish for your confidence, and beg you will reflect, before you intrust to an inex- perienced girl circumstances, respecting which she cannot be qualified to give any advice, and which, perhaps, it is scarcely proper for her to know. Had you not better wait a little, and choose some fitter confidant among the nuns ; or consult the father confessor ?" " Cease, cease !" exclaimed her companion, with a gesture of impatience, " cease, I beseech you, to annoy me with these doubts and sug- gestions. You are the friend my heart has chosen, but you need not fear that my confi- dence will do you any injury. It is, indeed, a confession of crime, of deep and awful guilt ; but it is not such as will tinge your cheek with blushes, though it may make it turn pale. Sit down with me on this mossy seat, and you shall hear my short, but tragical history." "I am the only daughter of a Spanish mer- chant at Malaga. I was his joy and pride, and unfortunately, brought up in the indulgence of THE CONVENT BELLS. 19 every whim, and the gratification of every wish. My mother was a beata, an exceedingly devout woman, and endeavored to imbue my mind with the strictest principles of religion. But I was fond of the world, and, as my will was never thwarted, I formed what connec- tions I'pleased, and lived in a constant round of gayety. " About two years ago, I became acquainted with a young Englishman, a clerk in a neigh- boring merchant's establishment. He paid me marked attention, and we became passionately attached to each other. Our intimacy, how- ever, was discovered and prohibited by my father, who, on this occasion, exerted an au- thority which he had never assumed before, and to which I was by no means disposed to submit. Bitterly does my conscience reproach me, for the numberless instances of disobedi- ence, ingratitude, and deception, of which I was guilty during the ensuing twelve-month. I frequently saw Frederick Morton during that period ; but my father, having been apprized of it, locked me up in my room, and threatened to send me to a convent, if I did not relinquish this forbidden connection. " With shame and grief I confess, that these harsh measures, and still harsher menaces, only stirred up my proud spirit to more determined rebellion. I found means of communicating 20 THE CONVENT BELLS. with my lover ; our plans were arranged, and I succeeded in escaping from my father's house. A small vessel had been provided, in which we embarked, sailed to Gibraltar, w r here we were immediately married. " You shudder, Rosa, at my wickedness, and well you may ; but I was soon punished in so dreadful a manner, that you will not, cannot, refuse to pity me. We spent a few weeks at Gibraltar, in a dream-like happiness too exqui- site to last ; but my conscience soon awoke from its slumber, and its scorpion-stings com- pelled me to implore the pardon of my parents. 1 wrote repeatedly, the most submissive and penitential letters ; but no answer was returned to any of them ; and I became so miserable, that my beloved Frederick consented to take me back to Malaga, that I might, on my knees, endeavor to soften the anger of my justly-of- fended parents. O my excellent and affection- ate husband ! Never can I forget your kind- ness, your tender indulgence ! Never can I cease to mourn the hour when I induced you to grant me this fatal opportunity !" Here the unhappy novice, totally overcome by her agonized feelings, leaned her head on the shoulder of the sympathizing Rosa, and yielded to a torrent of tears, accompanied with convulsive sobbing. Her companion entreated her to desist from so distressing a narration; THE COXVENT HELL*. 21 but, after this burst of feeling, she persisted in resuming it, observing that she would make it as brief as possible. " It would be impossible for me to give you a description, or even a clear idea of what fol- lowed.. Scenes of horror and bloodshed flit before my memory, half veiled in a mist of delirious uncertainty. All I know is, that my father and my husband encountered each other, the very evening of our arrival ; my father attacked Frederick with furious rage ; they fought desperately and blindly ; and the result, Oh ! Rosa ! that I should live to relate it ! The result was, the death of both, almost in- stantaneously !" It was not till some considerable time after, that the unhappy Spaniard was able to con- clude this account of herself, which, however, she insisted upon doing, notwithstanding the en- treaties of the weeping Rosa, that she would at least defer it. " What became of me, after all these hor- rors, I scarcely know. I awoke from a long and horrid lethargy, under the roof of my father's dwelling ; and the first piece of infor- mation I obtained was, that my unfortunate mother had died of grief, and that I was the murderess of both my parents, as well as of the object of my dearest affections ! I was com- pletely overwhelmed by the awful judgments 22 THE CONVENT BELT,?. of heaven, in the fearful consequences of my sins ; my reason gave way, and a brain-fever, which had nearly proved fatal, kept me in a state of raving delirium during several months. At length I recovered, and found myself in the power of my brother, who, as soon as I could bear the journey, sent me here, to expiate my crimes by a life of misery and self-reproach." " And now, Rosa, dear Rosa, that you know all my guilt, do not, pray do not shrink from me with the abhorrence I deserve ; but have compassion on me, comfort me, counsel me, and tell me how I shall get rid of the dreadful load of condemnation that weighs me down to the dust." " Dearest sister," replied the youthful novice, whose tears of sympathy had not yet done flowing, " I am quite incompetent to advise you. The father confessor, to whom you have no doubt told all this dreadful tale, will direct you in the mode of expiating your offences, and put you in the way of recovering your peace of mind, and being reconciled to God. He has, no doubt, enjoined you suitable penance's, and will, in proper time give you absolution." " Has he the power or authority to do that, Rosa 1 If I could feel satisfied that he had, I should dismiss all anxiety ; but my mind is full of doubt and confusion on that very subject." " Sister !" exclaimed Rosa, starting back in- THE COXVEXT BELLS. 23 voluntarily a few paces, " Sister ! what can you mean ? What ! doubt the authority of the Church and her ministers ! Oh, you have in- deed fallen into the snares of heretics ! But you must confess this also, and Father Giacomo \vill easily solve all your doubts. But, pray, do let us retire to rest ; for the moon has sunk behind the mountains, and it must be very late. I fear \\e shall be but little disposed to attend matins, and I think the superior considers you quite recovered enough not to be any longer excused." " She has told me so, and my duty is passive obedience. But, oh ! do promise to meet me here occasionally at night, that we may have a little unrestained conversation. I have still much to say to you, therefore promise me this enjoyment." Rosa promised, though she felt as if she were doing wrong ; and the two friends, having af- fectionately embraced each other, retired to their respective cells ; but the sleep of the one was disturbed by mental agony, and that of the other troubled with dreams and visions of ter- ror, occasioned by the tragical events which had just been related to her. CHAPTER II. THE SPANISH NOVICE. We wait for light, but behold obscurity ; for brightness, but we walk in darkness. We grope for the wall like the blind, and we grope as if we had no eyes : we stumble at noon-day as in the night ; we are in desolate places as dead men. We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves ; we look for judg- ment, but there is none ; for salvation, but it is far off from us. ISAIAH lix. 9, 10, 11. IT was some weeks after the conversation related in the preceding chapter, the convent- clock had tolled the hour of eleven, and silence reigned along the deserted corridors, for the inmates of the establishment had some time before retired to their cells, to enjoy the few hours of rest allowed them, till the three o'clock bell should summon them to their early .task of useless and wearisome repetitions. A fee- ble ray of light, however, still streamed from the casement of one small chamber ; and its faint reflection just revealed within the usual contents of a nun's cell : a bedstead without curtains, one chair, and a deal table, on which stood a crucifix, a black rosary, a breviary, a skull, and an hour-glass. On that bed lay, in seeming repose, the form of the Spanish novice, THE SPANISH NOVICE. 25 and beside it sat the youthful Rosa, in an atti- tude of quiet watchfulness, her eyes bent on her rosary, and her lips inaudibly repeating the Latin prayers attached to each separate bead. A profound silence had, for some time, reigned in the little room, when it was inter- rupted by an impatient motion on the part of the invalid, and a meek, but agitated, voice feebly exclaimed, " Rosa, dearest Rosa ! do speak to me, I be- seech you ! Let me hear your sweet and cheering voice, dispelling the horror of my thoughts !" " Hush ! hush, dear sister !" said her affec- tionate attendant, gently laying her hand on the mouth of her charge ; " you know you must not talk, but try to sleep, or you will bring on again the fever and all its dangerous symptoms." " I cannot sleep, Rosa ; I assure you I can- not ; I have been trying for the last half hour, but I cannot accomplish it. I have long ar- dently wished for an opportunity of conversing with you alone, and without interruption, and the present is one which may not again occur for weeks, perhaps for months. My mind is in a state of insupportable torture, and, as I re- ally find it impossible to sleep, I must unbur- then my misery to you." " I sincerely wish you would not, dear sis- 3 26 THE SPANISH NOVICE. ter," observed Rosa, with a countenance and manner expressive of the most unfeigned re- luctance to listen to a subject from which her feelings instinctively shrank, though she could scarcely, even to herself, have assigned a rea- son for the dread it inspired. " You know," she continued, " that I am a most unfit person to be your confidant, and I earnestly entreat you to choose a more suitable one, or rather to repose unlimited confidence in your spiritual director." " The thing is impossible, and so you will acknowledge, when you know the nature of my distress. O Rosa ! Rosina carissima !" she continued, throwing her arms round the neck of the softened girl, and laying her burn- ing forehead against her cheek, " you cannot, you must not, deny me the relief of your sym- pathy !" Rosa gently replaced her head on the pillow, (a luxury only allowed in sickness.) which she carefully adjusted ; and, thinking that further refusal would, perhaps, only produce irritation and dangerous excitement, she resolved to sub- mit for a little while, in order to calm her, and soothingly said, as she kissed her patient, " Well, then, I will listen to you for a few minutes, and when you have silenced your mind, you will perhaps be able to sleep. In THE SPANISH NOVICE. 27 the mean time, lie down quietly, and I will lay my head on the pillow, beside yours." " Thank you, carina., thank you. You are the only kind creature in the house. And now, I will tell you why I cannot impart my distress to Father Giacomo. It is because he is him- self, in a great measure, the cause of it." " What, has he not given you absolution ? I thought you had performed all the penances he had enjoined you." " He has given me absolution, Rosa, full and entire absolution. But I am not satisfied with it." " Not satisfied with it, sister ! you astonish me ! What more can you require ?" " I want the absolution of God, Rosa ; the full and entire pardon of my offended Creator of my insulted Redeemer." " Well, and have you not had it, by the mouth of His ambassador His accredited and author- ized agent?" " I am not sure of that ; I do not feel as if God had forgiven me ; my mind is in a dread- ful state of doubt, anxiety, and terror." " That must arise from the weakness of your faith, sister. You know that God has em- powered His ministers to forgive sins in His name, and it is a sin to doubt it." " Dearest Rosa, allow me to say that I do 28 THE SPANISH NOVICE. doubt it, most seriously doubt it, and this it is which makes me miserable." " Sister !" exclaimed Rosa, starting from her recumbent position, and attempting to with- draw her hand from the fevered clasp of the invalid, " sister, you terrify me ! I must beg that you will not again give utterance to such fear- ful sentiments, or I cannot listen you." " Listen for one moment !" cried sister Isabel, with vehemence, forcibly retaining her hand, while her eyes flashed with intense and almost wild earnestness, " Rosa, you are not more at- tached to the church than I am. It is because I wish to think her right, that I am so anxious to be satisfied on this subject. Surely truth must Ibe able to bear investigation, and the church must have proof to give, in support of her pretensions. You cannot but wish to know those proofs ; do not, therefore, refuse to hear what I have to say. Remember, it is a ques- tion of the utmost consequence, for on it de- pends the eternal welfare of our immortal souls. I do not say the church speaks without authority ; but I wish to be satisfied on that point." " But what satisfaction, what proofs can you require ?" asked Rosa, awed by the solemnity of the subject, and the earnestness with which it was pressed upon her. "When I was at Gibraltar, I was one Sun- THE SPANISH NOVICE. 29 day going to walk on the Alameda with . . . oh ! I dare not say with whom, for my brain begins to whirl at the thought ! . . . but, we were going to hear the military music played by the English band ; and on our way, we passed ^a place in which there were a great number of people, both Spanish and English, assembled to hear a heretic padre preach. My curiosity induced me to enter, and my beloved companion gladly accompanied me. My at- tention was soon riveted by the simple, but forcible eloquence of the speaker. He attacked most unsparingly the doctrines of our church, and especially that by which she claims the right of forgiving sins. I d not remember one of his arguments ; indeed, how co*uld I, after the oceans of blood and misery which have since rolled over my mind ? but I do re- member that, at that time, they greatly startled me. He had in his hand a small book, which he said was the Bible, the word of God him- self, and what he read out of it seemed very clear a$d convincing. I resolved to satisfy myself on the subject, by inquiring into it seri- ously, for I felt that it must be of infinite im- portance ; but alas ! my attention was soon forced from tiie subject, and the time that has since elapsed seems but one long, long pro- tracted dream of horror, anguish, and despair." " Sister," said Rosa, mildly, but seriously, 3* 30 THE SPAMSH NOVICE. " you then committed the same sin as our mother Eve ; you listened to the voice of the tempter, offering you the forbidden fruit of un- hallowed knowledge ; and you should be thank- ful to God, who snatched you from the peril you were rashly drawing upon yourself." " But why, is it forbidden knowledge, Rosa ? that is what I cannot comprehend. If God has really communicated his will to man, as our church admits that he has, why should we, why should any one, be debarred from reading that blessed book? Surely, it must be delightful to read what God himself has inspired, and much more satisfactory to us to learn our duty thus at the fountain head, than to take it on the word of others, who, perhaps, are as liable to mis- take its meaning as ourselves." " The priests cannot misunderstand it, dear sister, because they are instructed by the church, which God has commissioned to be the infallible interpreter of His word ; and they only withhold it,. from the people, to prevent those numerous and dreadful errors which always result from the exercise of private judgment in matters so mysterious." " But are we sure that God has so appointed it? Has He said that the greater number of His rational creatures should not read His own words ? Has He really revealed His will only to the priests ? If I could be quite convinced THE SPANISH NOVICE. 81 that it was indeed so, my mind would be per- fectly satisfied." " What proof could convince you, since you cannot believe the testimony of your spiritual superiors ?" " The word of God itself, Rosa ! Give me but that, and let me see there the confirmation of what they tell me, and I will cheerfully and humbly bow to their authority." " You could not understand it, sister, even if it were put into your hands." " I cannot believe that, for every thing that I heard the English padre read was extremely plain and simple, and I could, without the slight- est mental effort, perfectly understand every word." " But, remember, he was, according to your own account, a heretic, and his Bible, therefore, must have been a false one. There is no doubt that the devil has furnished those unhappy peo- ple with a wrong and injurious translation of the Bible ; and this accounts for their errors, and your mistake." There was a pause of a few minutes, and then the invalid resumed. " You may be right, dear Rosa ; there is great weight in what you say, and I assure you, that I earnestly wish to believe it. It would take an insufferable load off my heart, to be satisfied that the church was right, and 32 THE SPANISH NOVICE. .that I might safely depend on her as a guide to heaven. But, still, there is one doubt, one dreadful doubt, which distracts my mind. Since the church has the true word of God in her possession, why does she not impart it to her people ? Why not openly and honestly produce it, and thus, at once, establish her own doctrines, her own authority, beyond the possibility of their being controverted, and crush forever the pretensions of heretics ?" " Really, dear sister, I am not sufficiently skilled in the question, to answer all your in- quiries ; I have always heard that it was highly presumptuous and dangerous for un- learned persons to attempt the study of what is so completely beyond their powers of com- prehension, and that it infallibly leads them into scepticism, infidelity, or heresy. I have been taught to bow an implicit submission to the authority and infallible wisdom of the church, and I should shrink with horror from the idea of arraigning either." The invalid turned uneasily on her pillow, and was silent for a few minutes. " Rosa," she said at length, " I could almost say I envy your tranquillity. I would give the world, if I had it, to enjoy the same undoubting, unhes- itating confidence ; yet I could noj; bend my mind to such a system of mental slavery, which must surely be unworthy of a rational THE S1AN1SH NOVICE. 83 being. Your innocence of all crime is the cause of your blessed serenity ; but to a soul like mine, tortured with the misery of unpar- doned guilt, the fearful uncertainty of my po- sition is a source of incessant anxiety, and al- most hopeless despair. Oh ! that I had a Bible ! Oh ! tkat I could look on the word of God Himself, and satisfy the agonizing doubts that continually distract my mind !" She clasped her hands wildly together, and sobbed in the bitterness of her feelings. A step, soft and stealthy, but still audible, now startled the anxious Rosa, and turning very pale, she leaned over the bed, earnestly whispering, " Dear sister, for the love of heaven, calm yourself ! Here is sister Giovanna ! What will she say to find you thus ? " The invalid smothered her sobs, covered her head, and composed herself to the semb- lance of sleep ; while her youthful nurse re- sumed her breviary, and was apparently deeply absorbed by its contents, when the aged nun entered to relieve her watch. " Well, carina, how is your charge ? Has she been very quiet ? Has she slept well ? " " She is, as you see, quite composed, mother, and I have done all in my power to keep her so." Rosa's cheek was slightly tinged, notwith- 34 THE SPANISH NOVICE. standing the habitual duplicity inseparable from a conventual life ; the nun, however, did not suspect her prevarication, but dismissed her to rest with the usual blessing. The invalid slowly recovered ; but her mind was not at ease. It brooded over her doubts and fears, and daily 1)ecame more and more perplexed. The consciousness of unpardoned guilt, the terrors of an awakened conscience, the ardent longing of the soul for peace, and the utter ignorance of the only way in which it might be obtained, preyed upon her health, and secretly, but surely, undermined her con- stitution. It would be too much to say that the mind of her young friend, Rosalia, was quite tran- quil. Her eyes had been opened to see much that she had never dreamed of before ; her fears had been, in some degree, awakened by the suggestions of the Spanish novice ; but her disposition was naturally cheerful, unsuspicious, and confiding; and her spiritual perceptions were not sufficiently clear, or her fears suffi- ciently excited, to compel her to relinquish that implicit trust in her self-appointed guides, which had been implanted in her mind from her earliest infancy. Her deadly lethargy, indeed, had been somewhat disturbed, and her confidence slightly shaken ; but she was wil- ling to banish these unpleasant feelings, to THE SPANISH NOVICE. 35 persuade herself that sister Isabel was, to say the least, extremely unreasonable, visionary, and, perhaps, bewildered, and to close her eyes to every gleam of unwelcome light, as the sluggard implores to be left to "a little more sleep, a little more slumber." The new comer, in the meantime, was any thing But a favorite in the convent. Her re- served and gloomy manners, her determined shunning of all familiar intercourse with the other inmates, the contemptuous glances with which she noticed their childish enjoyments and silly gossip, the sullen resignation with which she entered into their wearisome em- ployments, the morose and melancholy ex- pression which continually sat on her coun- tenance, and the haughty silence in which she received the directions of the superiors, made her equally an object of curiosity and dislike. As every thing new, however trifling, is an event in a convent, these peculiarities were eagerly seized upon, as interesting subjects, to enliven the dreary monotony of their stagnant existence. Every look, gesture, and action, was closely watched, every opportunity greed- ily seized of prying into her secret sentiments, and imagination very readily supplied what the most anxious observation left undiscovered. Various surmises were formed, and marvellous tales told, of the mysterious novice. She was 86 THE SPAV13H JTOVICE. looked upon with an eye of suspicion, wonder, and even dread. The young beheld her with distrust, and avoided her; the old scowled upon her, crossed themselves, and muttered a prayer to some saint, when they met her. To Rosalia alone "she was an object of compassion, kindness, and growing affection ; but the young girl soon found that she must be cautious in the manifestation of these sentiments, or she would have to share in the unpopularity of her unfortunate friend. " Gesu Maria ! Sister Rosa," said one of the younger nuns to her, one morning, as they met in the corridor, " what can make you so in- timate with that gloomy-looking Spanish stran- ger ? One would think her aspect was suffi- cient to scare away a girl like you; and I really think you are not like the same crea- ture, since you have been so much with her. Pray, do tell me, what attraction can you find in her, that you are so fond of her company ?" " She is a stranger, sister Marcella ; and that, of itself, is a claim on our kindness and attention ; but she is unhappy, and that is a still greater one to every feeling mind." " What can she be so unhappy about ? Of course she could not help regretting the world, and her friends, when she left them, especially as she does not appear to have done so wil- lingly ; but she has now been here quite long THE 3PAMSH NOVICE. 87 enough to be comforted, and to have made acquaintances in the house who would have sup- plied the place of those she has lost. But she keeps aloof from all of us, and treats us with haughty scorn. This is not very amiable, and I cannot see any right that she has to consider herseif above us." " She does not think so, or feel so, sister ; but her feelings have been greatly lacerated, and her mind is, I fear, sadly unhinged ; we should, therefore, pity, and try to soothe her." " You speak in this way, Rosa, because she has taken a fancy to you, and you are proud of being preferred to every-body else ; but, for my part, I see no reason to court the favor of this haughty Spaniard, about whom, indeed, very strange tales are told." " Strange, indeed," said sister Geronima, an elderly nun who now joined them. " It is the opinion of many persons, that she must have committed some very dreadful sin ; for Father Giacomo would not give her absolution for a long time, not until she had performed a great many long and severe penances ; and she looks so miserable, that I am sure she must have a conscience burdened with very heavy sins. The great enemy often takes advantage of such a state of mind ; and it is said that she is not free from his assaults. I hope she does not yield to his temptations ; but there is about 4 38 THE SPANISH NOVICE. her something very unhallowed and mysterious. She repeats the prayers as if she did not know what she was doing ; she is evidently wrapped up in some contemplations of her own ; and, when any thing arouses her from her reverie, she starts as if she had been asleep, or in a trance. There is a fearful wildness in her eyes, which makes one tremble and cross one's self; and she is, altogether, so strange and un- accountable a being, that the greater part of our elder sisters strongly doubt the wisdom of the superior, in introducing her among us." " Santa Maria preserve us !" exclaimed sis- ter Marcella, ''you do not mean to insinuate, sister Geronima, that she is under the power of the devil ?" " I do not exactly say so," replied the other, " but there is certainly something very strange about her ; and how do we know but that it may arise from Satanic influence, or even from heresy ? It cannot but be highly dangerous to introduce such a person into the house; and we must all pray to the blessed Virgin, that she will avert from us the awful consequences that may result from it." " But, sister," remonstrated Rosalie, " you have no reason to suspect the poor stranger of such crimes. Why should you judge her so severely, when you have no proofs of her guilt ?" THE SPANISH NOVICE. 39 " No reason ! no proofs !" retorted the nun angrily, "do not, sister Rosalie, set yourself up as a judge of your superiors in age and knowledge. I tell you, that I have good rea- sons for speaking as I do; and, if you must know gome of them, I can inform you that she has been heard in her cell, muttering strangely, groaning, sobbing, and walking distractedly about, as if under some dreadful conflict ; she has also been known to roam about the corri- dors, like a demented person, at midnight ; and mysterious noises are said to be heard about the house, ever since she has been here. Let me tell you, sister Rosalie, that you are very rash and foolish, thus to put yourself in the way of danger, by associating with her as you do. How do you know but that she may be guilty of witchcraft or heresy, or possessed with an evil spirit, and that she may infect you with the same crimes, and so drag you, with her, down to perdition ?" Rosa made no reply, but Marcella devoutly crossed herself, and invoking the aid of " Maria Santissima," went to make further inquiries respecting the new wonder of Santa Rosalia, and to enjoy this fresh topic of convent gossip. The youthful novice was glad to escape from the lecture of sister Geronima, and immedi- ately took refuge in her own room. Rosa was not naturally superstitious ; and 40 THE SPANISH NOVICE. though she had been nursed from infancy in convent-lore, and her mind filled with all the absurd legends which formed so large a part of the instruction peculiar to such establish- ments, the utmost effect it had produced was an undefined feeling of awe, but little tinctured with fear. She did not, therefore, bestow much attention on the marvellous tales so gravely circulated respecting the mysterious stranger, in whose conversation she felt an in- creasing interest. They frequently met in one another's cells, after the rest of the family had retired to rest, and spent many an hour in-in- timate communion ; but Rosa now perceived that these nocturnal visits must be discontinued, as suspicion had been excited, and the prospect of detection was any thing but pleasing. They had, also, once or twice, enjoyed a still greater luxury, a quiet ramble in the garden by moon- light ; but this had been obtained by means which, if discovered, would have subjected them to severe punishment. Some months previous to this period, and before the new superior came to Santa Rosalia, the portress had been afflicted with a danger- ous illness which confined her for some weeks to her bed. Rosa, to whom she had been very kind in her childhood, entreated and obtained permission to be her nurse. A temporary sub- stitute had been appointed in her place, to THE SPANISH NOVICE. -i I whom the keys were delivered ; but Rosa af- terwards found a small one in her pocket, of which she took possession, intending to give it to the new portress at the first opportunity. Her patient, however, was in so alarming a state, and she became so completely absorbed by the care and constant attention she re- quired, that the circumstance entirely escaped her memory. The key was that of a small door which led into the garden, but which was never used. It was, therefore, not inquired after ; and, when the portress resumed her station, she fancied it lost, and did not mention it, lest she should be thought guilty of negli- gence. The key remained in a small box of Rosa's, unperceived by her, till some time after the installation of the new superior ; and, on discovering it, she felt a dread that, from the greater strictness and severity of the pres- ent rule, she would be censured, and, perhaps, punished, on the suspicion of having used it. She, therefore, kept it, till she could find a favorable opportunity of restoring it. In the meantime, sister Isabel's entreaties for a pri- vate interview induced her to do the very thing of which she dreaded being accused; and, so great was the enjoyment of those stolen midnight-walks, that the key was used again and again, till the remarks of the nuns, in the foregoing conversation, made her trem- 4* 42 THE SPANISH XOVICE. ble lest they should be discovered, and resolve either to discontinue them entirely, or, at least, to adopt the greatest caution in the use of this indulgence. It never occurred to the mind of this young girl that she was doing wrong, nor did one feeling of compunction disturb her conscience, respecting the system of deception she was practising upon those who were " placed in au- thority over her." She had been educated in the principles of that false religion which teach- es that the end sanctifies the means, and that it is lawful and praiseworthy to " do evil, that good may come." Her moral perceptions had thus been dimmed, and her conscience taught to " call evil good, and good evil ;" and, as she felt quite persuaded in her own judgment, that the enjoyments she thus stealthily obtained were, in themselves, perfectly innocent, and tended to soothe and comfort the mind of her unhappy friend, she considered herself fully justified in the use of what appeared a harm- less artifice, and not one doubt arose as to the course she was pursuing. Alas ! she knew not that the God she pretended to worship is " a God of truth ;" and that, as all falsehood is an abomination to Him, He has denounced the most awful punishment, not only on " all Hats" but on "whosoever loveth and MAKETH a lie." Poor Rosa knew not thin, for her church had THi: SPANISH NOVICE. 43 shut up the word of life from her eyes, and was leading her blindfold to the brink of that gulf into which she herself shall be cast, when the whole host of heaven shall triumphantly ex- claim, " Babylon the Great is fallen, is fallen !" CHAPTER III. THE GARDEN. When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers in high places, and fountains in the midst of the valleys : I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. ISAIAH xli. 17, 18. IT was another moonlight-night bright, and soft, and balmy ; the acacia, the myrtle, and a thousand other odoriferous plants, were fling- ing their delicious perfume over the convent- garden ; while the verdant alleys, and beautiful bowers that composed it, checkering the flood of silver light with the flickering shadows of their luxuriant foliage, seemed to invite to con- templation and quiet enjoyment. The two novices had again availed themselves of the missing key, and were taking advantage of the delightful evening for a walk, and a long, un- restrained conversation. It was not late, but the convent had been some time hushed to rest ; and the deep silence of the scene was only in- terrupted by an occasional swell of plaintive melody, from a nightingale in a neighboring grove, and the low, cautious tones of the two friends, as they earnestly conversed. THE GARDEN. 45 " I cannot, cannot believe it !" said Isabel, stopping in her walk, and turning suddenly around to her companion ; " I cannot exercise faith as you do ; I have tried, struggled, prayed fervently, sincerely, passionately, prayed to have my mind set at rerft ; to be enabled to trust my spiritual guides, implicitly, nay, blindly, as you trust them ; that I might enjoy the peace and sincerity which I envy you. But no, it will not be ; I am still restless, anx- ious, miserable ; and every time I strive to draw some comfort from the recollection of Father Giacomo's full and repeated absolution, I seem to hear a voice, deep, distinct, and clear, as if it were from heaven, harrowing my soul with the fearful question, Has he the right to forgive ? What if his authority should be false, and the whole system founded upon a delusion ? I start, and recoil with terror from the thought : but it haunts me, Rosa, night and day, and I cannot, I cannot escape from it." " Dear sister, it is indeed a dreadful trial ; but you must persevere in resisting this temp- tation. It is doubtless an assault of Satan, and you know many of the blessed saints have been buffeted in a similar manner. You must re- double your devotions to our Holy Mother, and to St. Rosalia. You must say more prayers, perform more penances, inflict more self-denial on yourself." 4