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A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","text_extract":"'- , \n\n• \n\n\nTHE LIBRARY \n\nOF \n\nTHE UNIVERSITY \nOF CALIFORNIA \n\nLOS ANGELES \n\n\nX •». •*v» ^ \n\n• j • -j V ^ \n\nSIX MONTHS IN A CONVENT, \n\n^ ;.-..- . \\ x n < \n\nOR, THE NARRATIVE OP \n\nREBECCA THERESA REED, \n\nWHO WAS UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF THE ROMAN CATHO- \nLICS ABOUT TWO YEARS, AND AN INMATE \nOF THE URSULINE CONVENT \n\n\nNEARLY SIX MONTHS, IN THE YEA \n\n\nWITH SOME PRELIMINARY SUGGESTIONS BY \nTHE COMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION. \n\n\nBOSTON : \n\nRUSSELL, ODIORNE & METCALF- \n\nNEW- YORK, NELSON HALL, JOHN ST. ; PHILADELPHIA, WILLIAM \n\nMARSHALL AND CO. ; CINCINNATI, C. )'. BARNES; AND ALL \n\nTHE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS IN THE U. STATES. \n\n1835. \n\n\nENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS, IN THE YEAH \n1835, BY RUSSELL, ODIORNE AND METCALF, IN THE CLERK'g \nOFFICE OF THE DISTRICT COURT OF MASSACH PSETTS. \n\n\nBureotj-ped bj Shcpard, Oll»er ft Uo. \n\n\nPRELIMINARY SUGGESTIONS \nFOR CANDID READERS. \n\n\nIT is related in the history of the Reformation, that \nabout the middle of the year 1320, Martin Luther published \nin his native language a little treatise, in which he ad- \ndressed the emperor and German nobility on the necessity \nof a reformation in the church. Some friends of Luther, \nhowever, there were, who were startled at the boldness of \nthe publication, and CONSIDERED IT AS THE SIGNAL FOR \nWAR; but the more thinking and judicious part of mankind \nlooked on this measure as the wisest step which, even in \nn merely worldly and prudential light, could possibly have \nbeen taken to render contemptible and abortive the ex- \npected fulmination of the Roman court. \n\nThis little treatise was the origin of that immense move- \nment in public sentiment, the Protestant refotm in the \nchurch. No sooner was it known, than Leo X. issued \nthat famous damnatory bull against Luther, which in the \nevent proved so fatal to the established hierarchy. The \nwritings of Luther, though at that period they were of a \nmild and persuasive character, were condemned as hereti- \ncal, scandalous, and offensive to pious ears ; all persons \nwere forbidden to read them upon pain of excommunica- \ntion ; such as had any in their custody were commanded to \nburn them ; and he himself, if he did not in sixty days send \nor bring his retraction to Rome, was pronounced an obsti- \nnate heretic, was excommunicated, and delivered unto Sa- \ntan for the destruction of his flesh. \n\nWe do not propose to institute a grave comparison be- \ntween Luther's little treatise in the sixteenth century and \nthe Narrative of a six months' residence in a Convent in tha \nnineteenth century, but there are some points of resefn- \n\n\n. rr jy the Pope and his \nspiritual subjects, than has been the simple manuscript \nnarrative of Miss R.,in 1832, by the Catholics and their \nfriends in this quarter. Even many of the apparent friends \nof truth, and of the religion of the New Testament, will no \ndoubt be as much startled at the boldness of our presuming \nto publish this little Narrative, and will consider it \"the \nsignal for war,\" quite as seriously, and just as wisely, as \ndid some of the friends of Luther, when he gave his first \naccount of abuses and follies he had himself witnessed in \nthe Monasteries and Convents of that day. And be it re- \nmembered too, that the statements of Luther for some time \nrested on his individual assertions against the whole \nhierarchy of Rome. Had Christians believed the Priests \nand discredited Luther, where would have been the Re- \nformation ? Shall then Christians of the present day, \nChristian parents who have daughters to educate, disbe- \nlieve the narrative of a residence in a modern Convent, \nmade bv a convert from that order, merely because in mat- \nters of fact which only she and the Catholic community at \nthe institution could nave witnessed, the latter attempt to \ndiscredit her testimony ? Would they not do so of course, \nif the disclosure of the trnth must open the eyes of Protes- \ntants, so as to convince them of the impropriety of intrust- \ning the education of their daughters to a secret and super- \nstitious community of Catholic Priests and Nuns? \n\nIt is in the hope that the truth will prevail, that we have \nadvised the publication of this Narrati/e, which, just like \n\n\nD INTRODUCTION. \n\nthe little treatise of Luther, has been denounced and con- \ndemned by those who know nothing of its real contents, \nas \" heretical, scandalous, and offensive to pious ears.\" \nWe doubt not that when it is published, that portion of the \ncommunity and the press who have made up their minds \nto listen to nothing against the infallibility of Ursuline \nConvents to educate Protestant daughters, will not, in their \ndenunciations, be a whit behind me damnatory bull of \nPope Leo X. against Luther, for publishing his \" little \ntreatise.\" All persons will be forbidden to read and be- \nlieve the \"• little\" Narrative about the Convent, under pain \nof being held up to public odium as among the rioters, or \nat least abettors of the riot, which led to the destruction \nof the Nunnery at Mount Benedict. Even pious men and \nwomen will be so eager to show their religious tolerance \nand Christian charity for Catholic Nunneries, that thev \nwill labor with all thei<- might to destroy the character of \nan American Protestant girl, who has escaped from Catho- \nlic superstition ; in order to maintain the infallible purity \nof a secret community of foreign females, who have intro- \nduced among us for the imitation of the daughters of re- \npublicans, the ascetic austerities of a religious discipline \ndestructive of all domestic and social relations. \n\nAs to those who have advised thispublication, and who \nventure to doubt the infallibility of Convents in 1835, as \nLuther did the infallibility of the Pope in 1520, we antici- \npate, as a matter of course, from a portion of the commu- \nnity, all manner of denunciations and excommunications, \nas \" obstinate heretics, fit only to be delivered unto Satan \nfor the destruction of the flesh.\" Nevertheless, we very \nconscientiously believe that it is as much our duty to give \nthis \" little\" Narrative of Convent discipline to th'e Chris- \ntian public, as it was the duty of Luther to publish his \n\" little treatise\" three hundred years ago. We earnestly \ndesire that the public may discriminate between the Ro- \nman Catholic religion and a Roman Catholic school to \neducate daughters of Protestants, and that they will not \nlonger confound religious toleration with the encourage- \nment of monastic seminaries of learning. We regard \nthis matter as more immediately connected with the great \ninterests of EDUCATION among ns, than it is with the ad- \nvancement of pure and undeh'led religion. It is not a \nquestion of creeds and sects.bat it is a grave question ho* \n\n\nINTRODUCTION* 7 \n\nthe future ornaments to our most refined society, the future \naccomplished mothers of American citizens, shall be edu- \ncated. We ask, in this view, is it not a startling fact, that \nhere in the town of Charlestown, in the immediate vicinity \nof Boston, celebrated above all other communities for its \nmeans of giving a Christian and a republican education to \nits children, the aid of a foreign, ascetic, superstitious, anti- \nrepublican institution should have been ealled in, esta- \nblished solely by Roman Catholics, who have taken reli- \nvious vows of \" POVERTY,\" and yet hold out public induce- \nments and charge the highest prices for educating the \ndaughters of wealthy parents of that class of Christians \nwhom \" all good Catholics\" regard as heretics, who must \ninevitably be damned unless they are converted to the only \ntrue faith ! \n\nIt is high time that a little common sense was applied to \nthe estimate of the motives and objects of Roman Catho- \nlic monastic institutions for educating Protestant chil- \ndren ! Many of our most influential citizens seem to he \npreparing the public to abandon all Protestant schools, and \nsend their daughters to be educated in Roman Catholic \nCloisters. The next step may be, that whenever a young \ngirl, thus educated, is crossed in love, or disappointed in \nsecuring a fashionable establishment in marriage, she will \nturn Nun, and take the vows of the Ursuline order ; and \nwealthy parents, who have more daughters than they can \nportion in the style they have been brought up, mav find it \nconvenient to persuade the least beautiful to take the veil. \nSuch things are common among the aristocracies of Europe . \nWhy may they not be introduced here, if public opinion is \nfound to favor the establishment of Convents ? \n\nThe highly respectable Committee appointed by the citi- \nzens of Boston, not to eulogize the Convent, but solely \" to \ninvestiga^ the proceedings of the night of the riot, and to \nadopt every suitable mode of bringing the authors and \nabettors of the outrage to justice,\" say in their elaborate \nvindication of that institution, that \" the number of pupils \nhas varied from forty to sixty, during each of the past five \nyears, being for the most part daughters of those among \nthe most respectable families in the country, of various re- \n,ligious denominations, the number of Catholics never ex- \nceeding TEN at any one time. No means were taken (say \nthe Committee) to influence or affect their religious opi- \n\n\n8 INTRODUCTION. \n\nnions, nor can it he ascertained that any pupil placed under \ntheir charge for the purposes of education has been con- \nverted from any other to the Catholic faith, or induced to \nbecome a member of the Community.\" \n\nThe Superior of the Convent, in her testimony on the \ntrial ef the rioters, declared that the vows of her religious \norder are \" POVERTY, chastity, and obedience ; to separate \nthemselves from the world, and to follow the instructions \nof the Superior.\" She also testified that the institution at \nMount Benedict was supported by the profits of the school ; \nthat it was out of debt, and all the property paid for, be- \nsides more than a thousand dollars in cash in her private \ndrawer, which she had not counted for a year ! (an evi- \ndence of \" poverty,\" by the way, which most people who \ntake no vows to become paupers would rejoice to have in \ntheir possession.) She further testified that there were no \nfunds but those arising from the pupils, and that she and \nher sisters in the Ursutine Community were supported out \nof that fund ; this whole \" Community,\" so supported, con- \nsisting of\" eight Nuns and two Novices at the Convent.\" \n\nBoth the Superior and the Bishop testified that the pro- \nperty of the Nunnery which was destroyed amounted to \nfifty'thousand dollars, exclusive of the real estate and ap- \npurtenances. \n\nNow put these facts together, and what are we called on to \nbelieve ? Why, that a capital of at least SIXTY THOUSAND \nDOLLARS (which invested in stocks would have yielded a \nrevenue of three thousand six hundred dollars annually) \nwas set apart and put into the splendid and sumptuous esta- \nblishment at Mount Benedict, for the purpose of supporting \nten females who had taken on themselves vows of POVERTY, \nand also for the purpose of educating ten Roman Catholic \nchildren ! Was there ever greater disparity between means \nemployed and the professed ends for which those means \nare said to be employed ? \n\nThe Nunnery, therefore, could not have been designed \nmerely as a family residence, or as a place of worship for \nten females under vows of \" POVERTY,\" nor could so exten- \nsive an institution have been erected to educate ten Catho- \nlic children. Neither could the Nuns themselves be am- \nbitious of public distinction as eminent teachers, for they \nhad vowe_Q \" to separate themselves from the world !\" \n\nThe primary object, then, must have been, not to provide \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 9 \n\na place for the religious devotion of Roman Catholics, but \nto establish a seminary for the education of the daughters \nof Protestants. This is proved by the public advertise- \nments of the Superior, and the agencies established in New \nOrleans and other cities, to procure Protestant pupils for \nthe Charlestown Nunnery. If then it was a mere school, \nit has no claim to sanctity, and should be open to examina- \ntion, like the schools of Protestants. We protest against \nclaiming religious sanctity for a school for girls. If the \nNunnery was a place for disseminating the Roman Catho- \nlic religion, then the children of Protestants should not be \nsent there to learn that religion. But if it was a school to \neducate Protestant girls, then the whole interior discipline \nof both pupils and teachers ought to be known. \n\nBut why should Roman Catholics establish so costly a \nseminary m the vicinity of Boston, to educate the daughters \nof Protestants ? Could it have originated in the disinte- \nrested benevolence of a foreign lady, brought up in the se- \nclusion of a Convent in Canada, who, with her five sisters \nsimilarly educated, should have taken such a deep interest \nin the young ladies of Boston and the United States, as to \nform so extensive an establishment to enable them to obtain \nan accomplished education ? \n\nOr could the intelligent Catholic Bishop of Boston have \nbeen so deeply impressed with the total neglect of female \neducation in Boston and its vicinity, as to be at all this \ntrouble and expense for the sole benefit of the daughters \nof heretics, without the least design, as the Boston Com- \nmittee affirm, to use the slightest means to influence or \naffect their religious opinions ? Neither the Bishop nor the \nSuperior could have looked to this establishment as a \nsource of pecuniary profit, because that would be to compel \nthe Nuns to become teachers for filthy lucre, and thus vio- \nlate their vow of\" POVERTY !\" \n\nIf, then, no mercenary views were connected with the \nestablishment of the Nunnery, and there was no lack of \ngood Protestant schools for Protestant females, (certainly \nmuch better than the Nunnery proved to be,) where was \nthe motive ? \" It was disinterested benevolence !\" say \nthe friends of the Convent. Perhaps we could have be- \nlieved it was, if the avowed object of the institution had \nbeen to convert the children of heretics to the true faith, in \norder to save them from eternal destruction. Look at it in \n\n\n10 INTRODUCTION. \n\nthis view a moment. Here were eight females having the \ncharge of fifty amiable and interesting girls, and believing \non their souls that every one of these children were misera- \nble heretics, who must be damned to all eternity, unless \nthey embraced the Roman Catholic faith ! If the Superior \nand her Nuns did not honestly believe this, then their reli- \ngion is a cheat or they were hypocrites. We draw no such \nconclusion, but doubt not they sincerely believed the infal- \nlible creed_ of \" mother churcn,\" that these children, with \nall their winning attractions, must inevitably be shut out \nof all hopes of heaven, unless they were converted to Ro- \nmanism. Could pious and benevolent ladies, day after \nday, and year after year; see their own children, as it were, \nplaced in this awful peril, and not make an effort to save \nthem from eternal destruction? What should we say of a \npious clergyman, at the head of a seminary, who should \nnave fifty boys in his school, whose parents had brought \nthem up to deny God and ridicule the Scriptures, and yet \nhe should boast publicly that he had \" taken no means to \ninfluence or affect their religious opinions,\" and had \" never \nexacted their attendance upon religious services ?\" Is not \nthis the light in which the Boston Committee represent the \nSuperior of the Convent and the Bishop, if they really have \nmade no effort, for five years, to save the precious souls of \nfifty interesting female children, intrusted by heretics to \ntheir paternal care ? \n\nMost assuredly it is ; and if what they say of the Con- \nvent in this particular be true, it takes away the last pos- \nsible pretence for getting up that institution — benevolence. \nHad the Superior or the Bishop suffered one of the Protes- \ntant pupils to have walked in her sleep out of the window, \nand lost her life, when timely caution might have prevented \nit, with what horror the community would have heard of \nsuch an outrage. And yet the Boston Committee ask us \nto believe that all the Priests and Nuns at the Convent \nreligiously believed that the fifty children they had under \ntheir daily care were walking in the sleep of spiritual \ndeath, liable every moment to fall into eternal perdition, \nbut they would not reach forth a hand to save them ! \" No \nmeans were taken to influence or affect their religious opi- \nnions!\" It seems to us that it would be more honorable \nto the establishment at Mount Benedict, to prove that it \nwas designed to save the daughters of heretics from perdU \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 11 \n\nlion, by making them good Catholics ; and in point ol fact \nwe believe the Committee were mistaken. There are pu- \npils from the Nunnery who declare that serious attempts \nwere made to affect their religious opinions ; and in truth \ncould it possibly be otherwise, with ingenuous girls, living \nin the romantic atmosphere of a Roman Catholic Nunne- \nry, with all the mysterious and externally imposing cere- \nmonies of that religion constantly passing before their \neyes and ears, in a portion of which they daily partici- \npated ? If any one desired to possess the power of giving \na color to the impressions of after life, would he ask for \nbetter means than these ? \n\nIf then the object of establishing Catholic Nunneries to \neducate Protestant girls is neither pecuniary profit, world- \nly honor, or disinterested benevolence, is it uncharitable to \nconjecture that the real design must be to give to Catholics \na controlling influence over the minds of our youth, and \ndisseminate their tenets, by an imperceptible, winning way \nof not seeming to disseminate them at all ? At any rate, \nas the education of our daughters is a matter of such vital \nimportance to the purity of society, can we know too much \nof the interior discipline of an institution in which they \nhave been placed without their parents ever being permit- \nted to enter any part of the school or the Nunnery, except \na common visiting parlor to which the pupils a'nd their \ninstructors are called, whenever they are seen by the pub- \nlic eye ? \n\nThese are some of the considerations which have led to \nthe publication of the unpretending narrative that will be \nfound in this little book. It has been committed to the \npress after a long, deliberate, and, we may add, prayerful \nconsideration of the dictates of justice, truth, and religion. \nThe existence of such a narrative in manuscript, and vari- \nous and unfounded speculations as to the nature of its \ncontents, have been connected with the destruction of the \nConvent, and have given rise to many injurious and un- \nkind misrepresentations cf the motives of its author, ever \nsince that outrage was committed. Individuals in private, \nand committees in public reports, have made the sup- \nposed contents of this narrative the basis of a formidable \n\"conspiracy, extending into many of the neighboring \ntowns,\" resulting in the final burning of the Convent, on \nthe llth of August, 1S34. Others have supposed that it \n\n\n12 INTRODUCTION. \n\nwould disclose terrible scenes of personal profligacy and \ninquisitorial tortures : but both classes who have so \njudged have entirely misapprehended the character of the \nnarrative, and of its author. Under these contradictory \nimpressions, one portion of the community have been \nurging the immediate publication of the Narrative, while \nothers have threatened its author, and those who should \nundertake its publication, with a worse excommunication \nand denunciation than was inflicted upon Luther for his \ntemerity. Nevertheless. \" the more thinking and judicious \npart of mankind,\" who have had an opportunity of learn- \ning the facts, have \" looked upon the publication\" of the \nwhole matter \" as the wisest step, even in a worldly and \nprudential light, which could possibly be taken to render \ncontemptible and abortive\" the attempts that have been \nmade and are still making to silence the press, to condemn \nall who condemn Convents, and to injure the peace of \nmind and destroy the delicate reputation of the daughter \nof one of our native citizens, in order to justify a foreign \ninstitution established among us under the control of a \nhierarchy adverse to a republican form of government. \n\nWe have not believed that it became American Chris- \ntians or American citizens to offer up, on the altar of a \nRoman Catholic Convent, the character of one of our own \nunoffending daughters, who, after having been drawn into \nthe Romisn Church, by the exterior romantic attractions \nof a Nunnery patronized by Protestants, has had the \nChristian fortitude to escape from the dark meshes in \nwhich her mind had been entangled, and to disclose, in \nthe simple language of truth, all that she saw, heard, and \nfelt, while under this delusion. From a careful examina- \ntion of this subject, we are led to view it as a remarkable \nevidence of conscious innocence and integrity, as well as \npiety and firmness, that a young and delicate female, \nof timid and retiring habits, of extreme sensibility, and \nwith her health seriously impaired by religious auste- \nrities and seclusion, should have been enabled to main- \ntain so much consistency, mildness, and propriety in \nall she has said, written, or done in relation to her con- \nnection with the Ursuline Convent : and that too when \nmuch of the weahh and talent of this great city has been \nenlisted in defending and eulogizing that establishment, \nand in denouncing as participators in or approvers of the \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 13 \n\nriot, all who called in question the sanctity of its inmates, \nand the propriety of Protestants sending their daughters \nthere. We have never discovered in the feelings or lan- \nguage of Miss R. the slightest indication of resentment \ntoward that Community or its Superior, nor will it be de- \ntected in any portion of her Narrative, which it seems to \nus no person of an unbiased mind can peruse without feel- \ning a conviction not to be resisted, that it is the unaffected \nlanguage of truth and innocence. \n\nThe circumstances under which this relation of a six \nmonths' residence in the Ursuline Convent at Charlestown, \nwas originally prepared, and which have led to its present \npublication, are material in forming an estimate of the \ndegree of credit that may confidently be attached to it. \nWe wish it to be distinctly understood that the publication \nis not made at the instigation, or on the responsibility of \nthe author. On the contrary, she has very reluclantly \nyielded to the force of circumstances and the dictates of \nduty, which, in the opinion of her friends and the friends \nof truth, have left no oilier course proper to be pursued ; \nand has placed her manuscript at their disposal. If then \nthere is an error of judgment in giving this work publicity, \nit belongs to the friends of Miss K., and to many of our \nmost sedate and respectable citizens who have advised \nwith them, and not to herself. The design of the publica- \ntion on our part, is to vindicate her from unjust and un- \nmanly aspersions which some friends of the Convent have \nindulged in toward her, ;iri of liie friends of the institution, as will be seen by the \nfollowing, from the organ of the Catholics in Boston. \n[From the Jesuit of July 23. 1831.) \n\n\" A lying report has been for some time going the \nrounds of the C«.lvinistic presses, relative to the alopcmeiit \nof a pious girl from the Mount Benedict Institution at \nCharlf>town. False! false!! false!!! Messrs. Parsons, \nyon know it to lie so.\" \n\nThe inference, therefore, is obvious, that. Mis> R. avoided \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\nany publicity that would lead to an excitement against the \nConvent. For nearly three years before the destruction \nof the Convent, she had been living in the bosom of her \nown family, an exemplary member of the Episcopal \nChurch, industriously applying herself, as far as her shat- \ntered health would admit, to acquiring and giving instruc- \ntion to young ladies in music and ornamental work. To \nsuppose for a moment that a mere girl, not twenty years \nof age, and so situated, could possess the power, or the \nmeans, or the disposition to do what the Boston Commit- \ntee and Judge Fay so unjustly attribute to her agency, viz. \n\" fomenting to hatred the popular aversion\" against the \nConvent, \" by representations injurious to the moral repu- \ntation of the members of that Community,\" and forming a \nconspiracy \" to destroy the institution at Mount Benedict,1'' \n\" as the great object of her pious labors,\" requires a cre- \ndulity not surpassed by that which enables a devout Ca- \ntholic actually to believe in the identical transubstantiation \nof a wafer into the flesh of the Savior ! It would disparage \nthe common sense of-Judge Fav, much more of the Boston \nCommittee, to suppose they believe any such thing. And \nVet, in grave documents emanating from both these sources, \nwe find a young girl, moving in tne humble walks of Jilt,-, \nwhose character is without reproach, charged with de- \nsigning for three years, and carrying forward to its comply - \ntion, in the midst of her simple avocation as the atlL-ction \nate teacher of female children in music, a monstrous \nconspiracy to get up a mob to destroy the Ursulinu Con- \nvent by violence ! If these intelligent gentlemen hav;,- \nreally brought their minds to compass sucfi an absurdity as \nthis, they might be brought to invert one of the miracles ol \nsacred writ, and believe that Jonah swallowed the whale, \nand not that the whale swallowed Jonah ! \n\nIt was not until this publication of Judge Fay appeared, \nthat Miss R. fully consented that her friends should publish \nher narrative, as the only means of placing before the \npublic all she had said and written in relation to the Con- \nvent, from which it might be seen how injuriously she had \nbeen misrepresented. The Report of the Boston Commit- \ntee, though extremely unkind in older respects, was so far \ndecorous as to omit using her name. Jud^e Fay was des- \ntitute of this ordinary courtesy due to every reputable fe- \nmale who does not bring her.splf voluntarily before the \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 29 \n\npublic. To repel his harsh imputations at once, seemed \nindispensable, and they were replied to by the following \ncommunication in the Boston Courier of January 7, 1835, \nwhich will explain many things connected with the nar- \nrative. \n\nREPLY TO JUDGE FAY. \n\nBoston, January 5, 1835. \n\nTO THE EDITOR OF THE COURIER : \n\nSIR, — I have been much surprised by seeing, in a letter signed \n\"Samuel P. P. Fay,\" published in your paper of this morning, a \nviolent attack upon myself, making statements wholly false, and \nadding inferences, which, I take it upon myself to say, no honest \nand unprejudiced man would be guilty of, even in his own \nthoughts, and much less in a letter sent to a public journal for \npublication. Much as I am averse to allowing my name to come \nbefore the public, in any manner, I cannot^ in justice to myself, \nremain silent when such a gross calumny has been put forth ; \nand done, too, by one whose office gives him a claim to respect in \nthis community. In answering the calumnies contained in the \ncommunication of Judge Fay, it will be necessary to enter a little \ninto particulars. In the first place, the judge '• takes the liberty\" \nto refer to me, as one who is able to give some information upon'tlie \ncauses of the \" popular feeling\" which produced the destruction \n(if the Convent. In answer to this reference, I can only say, that \nit i« impossible for me to account for the popular feeling in liny \nother manner than that in which the learned judge himself ac- \ncounted for it, when on the stand and under oath, viz. to the cir- \ncumstances attending the escape of Mrs. Mary John. He then \nslated (under oath) that he knew of no other cause for the excite- \nment which had caused the catastrophe. I can say with equal \nsincerity, that / also know of no other cause ; and that to have it \nascribed to me, as having in the least degree contributed to the \nexcitement, is as base a calumny as was ever fabricated. \n\nMy conversation with regard to that institution, since I left it, \nhas been confined to very few persons. No conversation of impor- \ntance, with regard to it, had ever been held by me (up to the time \nof its destruction) with but two persons. One of them is the reve- \nrend gentleman of whose church I am now a member, and the \nother is a resident in the country. I have sometimes been pressed \nwith questions concerning it, but have always avoided them as \nmuch as possible ; and though 1 have answered some questions. I \nhave not (up to the time above mentioned) given any information \nwith regard to the institution, (to any other than the gentlemen \nbefore named,) further than general statements ; such as, that I \ndid not approve of the institution, and should not advise any of \nthe young ladies among my friends to go there ; that I disapproved \nof the discipline of the institution, thinking much of it to be too \n\n\n30 \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\nSo careful have I been not to be in any measure the causa of an \nexcitement against that institution, that I did not permit even my \nown sisters to read the manuscript which I had wciiten concerning \nit. And now, that it should be publicly sali of me, by one who \nholds a seat upon the judge's bench, that I have been the cause \nof the \" popular feeling\" of which he speaks, is an invasion of \ndefenceless female innocence, if possible, more barbarous than \nthat invasion of private rights, which ha» called forth so much \npublic discussion. \n\nThe learned judge says I \"termed\" myself, when in court, a \n\"Catholie Protestant\" — for the purpose, no doubt, of holding me \nup to ridicule. In answer to this small wit, it is only necessary \nto say, that such an expression is a contradiction in terms which \nI did not make use of. I stated, that I was a Catholic Episcopa- \nlian ; and I cay so still. \n\nBut the most important misrepresentation which the judge has \ndone me the honor to make, is in a paragraph to which he puls \nquotation marks, as ifthe words were actually mine. In answer \nto this, in the first place I would state, that all which is exception- \nable in the paragraph is false. With regard to the origin from \nwhich this paragraph has been made, it will be necessary to \nmention a few details. About a year ago, Mrs. Fay was (appa- \nrently) quite desirous to have some conversation wilh me upon \nthat institution : to this end, she sent me two notes requesting me \nto call on her for that purpose. I had (as above stated) always \nendeavored to avoid particular conversation upon the subject; but \nin this instance, knowing that Mrs. Fay had a daughter in the \ninstitution, I thought it my duty to give her all the information 1 \ncould with propriety. I therefore answered her first note, inform- \ning her that if she would call on me, I would give her all the in- \nformation in my power. To this she sent another note, again \nrequesting me to call on her : of which last I took no notice, being \nthankful that she wanted the information so little, as to give me \nan excuse for not giving it. A short time after, however, I went \nthere to obtain a piano-forte, which I had been informed could be \nhad upon application : I was in hopes that I should not see \nMrs. Fay, but was disappointed. She immediately commenced \nasking me a variety of questions about the Convent, and I could \nnot avoid having some conversation with her upon the subject. \nI answered her Questions in general terms, as I had previously \nanswered similar questions to other persons, without entering iato \nany particulars, and ending the conversation as soon as politeness \nwould permit. Previous to leaving, however, some general re- \nmarks were made on both sides; and upon her part some remarks \ndirected to me, of a more kindly nature than any which she had \npreviously made. In this connection I said, that \" I hoped to be \na humble instrument in the hands of Providence of shoicin% my \nfriends the truth,\" This is what teas said, and nothing dijjerent \nwas said. The remark applied to me by Judge Fay I ncrer mfitle, \nnor any thing nearer to it than the one abova quoted. Thus it \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 31 \n\nWill be seen, that yourself is not the only one to whom the learned \njudge has done great injustice. \n\nWith regard to the manuscript which the judge speaks of, it is \ntrue that I have written one ; but that it has been \"extensively \nread,\" is not true. Whether it will be published or not, it is unne- \ncessary to answer. If however it should lie published, there will \nbe no \" pruning or purgation,\" as is feared by the learned judge, \nbut it will, on thj contrary, be more full and explicit than was \noriginally intended ; for when written, it was not intended for \npublication. \n\nI am, very respectfully your obedient, servant, \n\n11. THERESA REED. \n\nWe take it for granted that no person, of ordinary good \nbreeding, can justify the rude and unprovoked attack \nwhich a dignified judge, who is legally the guardian of \nthe orphan, has made upon an orpljan girl, in this commu- \nnication to the editor of the Courier. What manly feeling. \nor what sense of justice, could have prompted this sneer? \n• — \" a certain Miss Rebecca Theresa Reed, alias Rebecca \nMary Agnes Theresa Reed ; as Goldsmith says, 1 love to \ngive the whole name.\" Why did not the judge, while in \nthis witty humor, exercise his ridicule upon the Lady Su- \nperior, who styled herself, when in court, Ly the whole \nname of \" Mrs. President, Ma Mere, Mary Ann, Ursula, \nLady Superior, Edmond, St. George, Moffatt?\" The \njudge himself is not deficient in names ! \n\nNot content with this, the judge totally misrepresents \na fact, in saving that Miss R. termed herself, in court, \" a \n\"Catholic Protestant.\" She did not. Chief Justice \nShaw asked her, as he did all the female witnesses, \" Are \nyou a Catholic? Her answer was, I am a Catholic Epis- \ncopalian. Chief Justice. Do you believe in the Calh >Iic \nChurch? Ans'. ' 1 believe in the Holy Catholic Church,' \nbut not ia the Roman Catholic Church. Chief Justice. \nDo you acknowledge the supremacy of the Pope? Ans. \nNo, Sir, by no means ; I am a member of the Protestant \nEpiscopal Church.\" — It would seem difficult to find mate- \nrials for ridicule in answers so proper and becoming as \nthese. \n\nBut the most remarkable part of the judge's letter, is \nthe proof he gravely gives of Miss R.'s design to burn \ndown the Convent, by the assertion that some two years \nbefore the riot, she declared that \" she hoped to be a hum- \nhie instrument, in the hands of Providence, to destroy the \n\n\n32 INTRODUCTION. \n\ninstitution at Mount Benedict :\" and this, infers the judge\\ \nis conclusive evidence that a girl of nineteen was then \ngetting up a conspiracy to burn down the Convent ! \n\nWhat a terrible incendiary Martin Luther must have \nbeen, on this principle, for when threatened with persecu- \ntion from Rome, he wrote to Spalatinus — \" Let them con- \ndemn me and burn my books, and if in return I do not \npublicly condemn and burn the whole mass of pontifical \nlaw, it will be because I cannot find fire. The Lord will \nI doubt not, finish his own work, either through me as his \ninstrument or through another.\" \n\nIn truth, the Lord did make Luther the instrument of de- \nstroying jive hundred and seventy-six monastic establish- \nments in England alone, the annual revenues of which, to \nthe Monks and Nuns with their vows of \"poverty,\" were \n£132,000. more than half a million of dollars, besides \nplate and jewels to the value of £100,000 more ! In fact, \nas the history of those times says, \"one of the first effects \nof the Reformation was the destruction of the religious \nhouses.\" \n\nWas that any reason that Luther should have held his \npeace ? The Boston Committee think so in their Report, \nfor they say, \" there can be no doubt that a conspiracy was \nformed, extending into many of the neighboring towns, but \nthe Committee are of opinion that it embraced very few \nof respectable character in society, though some such may \nbe accounted guilty of an offence no less lieinous, morally \nconsidered, in having excited the feelings which led to the \ndesign.\" \n\nHere in one sentence we have all the authors of state- \nments injurious to the Nunnery, whether true or false, \nincluding Dr. Boecher for preaching against Popery, shook \nup together in the some bag with the rioters who set fire \nto the Convent ! Verily Martin Lulher was a rioter in- \nstead of a reformer, for he \" excited the feelings\" that led \nto very many bloody wars and persecutions, in which all \nEurope was involved for years. \n\nProtestant American citizens, who regard it as a heinous \nmoral offence to tell the truth and expose the danger and \nfolly of educating the daughters of free republicans at \nCatholic Convents, must assuredly approve of the eulo- \ngium the infidel historian Hume pronounces on Pope Leo \nthe Tenth, \"whose sound judgment, moderation, and \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 33 \n\ntemper were well qualified to retard the progress of the \nReformation.\" \n\nMiss II. therefore, even had she used the precise lan- \nguage Judge Fay ascribes to her, might have quoted an \nillustrious example. Luther had seen the abuses of the \nRomish Church, as she had seen those of the Convent at \nCharlestpwn, and when his enemies proposed to stipulate \nfor his silence, and even his friends feared he was going \ntoo far, he exclaimed, \" I will not be guilty of an impious \nsilence, and of the neglect of divine truth, and of so many \nthousand precious souls.\" And yet Luther's single as- \nsertion stood for some time against the testimony of the \nwhole hierarchy of Rome, and had Christians taken their \ndenials where would have been the Reformation? So if \nthe Protestants of the present day admit the denials of the \nmembers of Catholic Convents as conclusive against the \nstatements of all scceders from such institutions, who \nalone can carry into the world a knowledge of its secret \ndiscipline, will it not amount to an entire immunity to \nsuch establishments for any abuses or follies they may \npractise ? \n\nBut it is not true that Miss R. took any pains to dis- \nseminate her opinions of lli'j Nunnery. Ou the contrary, \nshf uniformly refrained from doing so, unless under cir- \ncumstances where she felt called upon by a sense of duty \nand the inquiries of those interested in knowing the truth. \nOne of the few conversations she held on this subject, after \nMio left the Convent, was the one which Judge Fay has \nbrought before the public, and misrepresented, with marked \ndisregard to delicacy, because the conversation he uses to \nestablish his charge of conspiracy against Miss R. was \nheld with his own wife, at her urgent solicitation. This \nwe will prove. In 1833, Miss R. was' a pupil in the \nCambridgeport Academy, nearly opposite the residence of \nJudge Fay. Mrs. Fay called on her there, and requested \nan interview relative to the Convent, in which she had \ndaughters. Miss R. declined calling. The earnestness \nwith which the interview was pressed, will appear from \nthe following notes, which the judge has obliged the \nfriends of Miss R. to publish. \n\n\"Mrs. Fay will be at home thia morning, and would be happy \ntu have a few moments' conversation with Miss Heed after school \ntliis morning, if it would be agreeable to Miss Heed, in relation to \n\n\n34 INTRODUCTION. \n\nthe Convent. Mrs. Fay only wishes to know if certain reports \nwhich she has heard are true. \n\" Friday morning.\" \n\n[Miss R. replied in a note, declining to call at the resi- \ndence of Mrs. F., but expressing a willingness to have that \nlady call on her. The answer to this note was as fol- \nlows.] \n\n\" Mrs. Fay will not be able to call and see Miss Reed this after- \nnoon, as she is going to Boston. She is much obliged to M iss Reed \nfor her polite note, aad will be happy to have Miss Reed call any \nday next week, either before or after school. \n\n\" Saturday morning,\" \n\nA conversation, drawn from an artless young lady, by \nsuch earnest and kind solicitations as these, certainly \nought not to have been treasured up nearly two years, and \nthen made public, in a distorted form, in order to charge \nupon her a conspiracy to incite a mob to commit arson \nand burglary. \n\nWe know it has been thrown out, by way of threat, that \nshould Miss R. suffer her narrative to be published, her \nveracity would be destroyed byjpeans of spies in the \nguise of fnends, who had watcheoner ever since she es- \ncaped from the Convent, and taken clown her conversa- \ntions in writing, in order to detect her in some contradic- \ntions. That such a cold-blooded, Jesuitical system of \nespionage can have been introduced into this enlightened \ncommunity, and practised for the ruin of a young lady, \nwe shall believe when we see these pretended records of \nMiss R.'s conversation published, and not before. We \ncertainly acquit so respectable a lady as Mrs. F. of any \ndesign to entrap Miss R. uy kind solicitations into a con- \nversation that was to be used, at some future period, to hei \ninjury. \n\nBut there is one fact which we cannot withhold in this \nconnection, as it will account for the spirit of extreme \nhostility with which Miss R. has been pursued, ever since \nher escape from the Convent, and her renunciation of the \nRoman Ca^aolic faith. We quote from the \" Jesuit,\" \npublished in Boston, the organ of Romanism in New \nEngland, firm which it will be seen that whenever a \nCatholic changes his religion, the dogma of the church \nenjoins that he is never afterward to be trusted or believed \nin any thing; and is to be driven, by persecutions, to in- \n\n\nI N T R O D U C T I O N . 35 \n\ntemperance, madness, or suicide. That these are the ter- \nrors held out to apostates from Popery, cannot be mistak- \nen from the following language. \n\n[From the Boston Jesuit of 1831.] \n\n\" Whenever a Catholic changes his religion, his motives \nand conduct are to be invariably suspecled, and his honesty \nto be never trusted. Never did such apostates become \nthereby more moral or religious. Faith being the free \ngift of God to man, may be lost by an individual not keep- \ning it active by the performance of the moral and religious, \nduties which an incarnate God and his Church inculcate \nand enforce. \n\nBut conscience, with her thousand tongues, will cry out \nin the midst of festive gayety, in darkness or solitude, \nagainst such deep and damning- perfidy, and the unfortu- \nnate victim, in all the abasement of guilt, to palliate his \nmental torture, will hare recourse to tlic stupefying bowl, \nor terminate his career by suicide.\" \n\nNeed we marvel that \" mother Church\" is infallible in the \neyes of her votaries, when such are the arguments used \nagainst a Catholic turning Protestant ? Need we wonder if \neven deranged fugitives from Convents should be sudden- \nly restored to their senses, and voluntarily return to their \nmental prison, as the only means to escape such a terrible \nanathema? How conveniently, in case of the sudden death \nof an \" apostate\" this doctrine of a guilty conscience im- \npelling to suicide would \" cover it all over like a cloak.\" \nWe bring no accusation ; we merely trace avowed doc- \ntrines to their legitimate consequences ; and we ask, if the \nabove article really embodies the true spirit with which \nthe Nuns of the Convent, the Bishop and Priests, and the \nCatholics generally, view the secession of Miss R. from \ntheir order, ought she not to be an object of the lively \nsympathy, and the zealous protection of Protestant Chris- \ntians, instead of being pursued and persecuted by them \nalso, as the unconscious instruments of the vengeance of \nthe former ? \n\nOne word as to the intimation that the Narrative of \nMiss R., as now puolished, has undergone \" pruning and \npurgation to suit the publisher.\" It has neither been \npruned nor expurgated, to suit the views of any body. It \ncontains every fact which it contained when committed to \n\n\n36 INTRODUCTION. \n\nwriting by Miss R. between two and three years ago. \nThe form in which it is now published is a revision of the \noriginal draft by Miss R., under the c.dvice of judicious \nfriends, but the language, the thoughts, the facts and the \ninferences are wholly her's, with a few unimportant cor- \nrections. We repeat, that not a fact contained in the \noriginal Narrative has been suppressed, and these are all \nthe facts which Miss R. has at any time authorized to \n\" pass under the sanction of her name.\" If she knows facts \nmore injurious to the character of the Convent, they have \nnot been disclosed ; and a discreet public can judge from \nthis Narrative with how much justice the Boston Com- \nmittee, in their Report, have ascribed to Miss R. the origin \nof the excitement that led to the riot of the llth of August. \nWe cannot so well describe the circumstances under \nwhich the Narrative was at first prepared, as they are re- \nlated in the following communication on that subject, ad- \ndressed to us by Miss R. last October. \n\nTO MY RESPECTED PRIBNDS : \n\nSoon after I left the Ursuline Community on Mount Benedict, \nCharlestowu, I felt it my duty and privilege to resume the connec \nlion which, before I became a convert to Romanism. I heid with \nthe Protestant Episcopal Church, in Cambridge. I accordingly \napplied to the Rev. Mr. C.. the pastor of Christ Church, Boston, \nwith whom I had consulted previously to my joining the Catholics. \nI related to him, as my pastor and spiritual adviser, the circum- \nstances which led to the temporary renunciation of the fiith in \nwhich I was brought up by my pious mother. \n\nBefore the death of my mother, she took care to have myself \nand two sisters baptized, at the Episcopal Church in Cambridge, \nby the Rev. Mr. Doane, then of Trinity Church, Boston, now an \nEpiscopal Bishop of New Jersey. \n\nIt, was the daily prayer of my beloved mother that her children \nmight be brought up in the ways of religion and truth. Accord- \ningly she gave my two younger sisters and myself to the Episco- \npal Church in baptism. Previous to her death she summoned \nus to her bed, in presence of my father and one of our sponsors, \nand reminded us of the solemn obligation we had taken on our- \nselves in the ordinance of baptism, and s;iid that she knew of no \ntruer religion than that of the Church of England ; that if there \nwas a holier people, we had only to seek, and we should find them. \nAnd here I should do well to call to mind other advice and \nrequests which she made : although her body sleeps in the dust, the \nremembrance of her dying words is still fresh in my mind. \n\nWhen I threw off the strong delusion under which I had b«en \ninduced to embrace Romanism or the Catholic religion, and my \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 37 \n\nmind was left at liberty to reflect on the dying words of my de- \nparted mother, I sought consolation in the Episcopal Church. In \ndoin? this, and in applying to th0, Rev. Mr. C. for readmission to \nthe church, I felt it my duty, i.i returning as a lost sheep to the \nfold, to open my whole heart, and disclose all the circumstances \nthat led to my wandering from the truth and embracing the Ro- \nman Cathe'ic faith — my introduction to the Ursuline Community — \na narrative of my residence there — the circumstances which \ncaused me to doubt the purity of their failh and practice— my con- \nsequent elopement from the Convent, and my renunciation of \nRomanism. And my present pastor can bear me witness that I \nhave never expressed any desire to injure the Convent or bring \nunjust reproach on the Catholic religion, but to do my duty as I \nconscientiously believed I ought to do, in telling the truth, on my \napplication for readmission to the Episcopal Church; and leave the \nevent to the wise Disposer of all things. \n\nAt the time I related the facts contained in this Narrative to the \nRev. Mr. C., he adriaed me as soon as I was able to put iii \nwriting all that I had learned and experienced of Roman Catho- \nlicism while among them, and while in the Convent. At first I vtoa \naljl,: to mak'i only memoranda, but I have at last endeavored, in \nmy own simple language, to place them together in something \nlike the form of a narrative, for your perusal. \n\nThe above are the circumstances under which this short account \nhas been drawn up; and I have now explained to you the motives \nfor this narrative of the most mierestias and distressing period of \nmy lif-. \"R. THERESA REED. \n\nAmong the many unkind things said of Miss 11., an at- \ntempt has been made to impute ingratitude to her, because \nshe was received at the Consent as a charity scholar. Mrs. \nMotiiut, the Superior, in her testimony, said, \" Miss R. \nwas received from motives of charity ;'' and the Report of \nthe Boston Committee, taking the alleged fact solely from \nthe Superior, says,1' her means of knowledge were derived \nfrom her having become a voluntary inmate of the house, \nfor the purpose of receiving a gratuitous education.\" \n\nHad disinterested benevolence been the motive which \nled to the admission of Miss R. to the Convent, those who \ncould exercise such benevolence would not have publicly \nreproached her with ingratitude on that ^-jore. But the \nSuperior proved, while under onth, that th<> object was not \nehrtrity. but the pecuniary interest of the school. We \nquote the i'ollov.'inLT from the cross examination of the Su- \nperior, in an-u-er to questions put bv Mr. Farley. \n\n': Miss Koc'it cam> nr. a charity scholar. She was em- \nploy'\") in :iM!-;idintr to her cducHtion. (-l>i?f('i'n. What \n\n\n38 INTRODUCTION. \n\nwas the design of educating her ? Answer. To prtoare \nher to instruct in tlie school. Mr. Farley. Then after she \nwas taught sufficiently to instruct in the school, would she \nnot have 'been an acquisition to the Community ? Answer. \nCertainly.\" \n\nThis is the same kind of charity which a master bestows \nupon his apprentice the first six months. Miss R., when \nshe applied for admission to the Convent, was found to \npossess a fine talent for music, which she has since de- \nveloped. As an instructerin music, therefore, had she re- \nmained at the Convent after the six months, her services \nwould have been highly important. The receipts from \nsixty scholars were not less than ten thousand dollars per \nannum, and there were but eight teachers, so that Miss \nR.'s proportion of labor, when qualified to instruct in music, \nwould have been twelve hundred per annum. \"Charity\" \nlike this was certainly casting a single loaf of bread upon \nthe waters, with a certainty of receiving a whole cargo in \nreturn. \n\nNor was this all. Miss R. was well skilled in orna- \nmental needle-work, as the ornaments of the altar and the \nrobe of the Bishop can bear witness, and her industry in \nthat department was a full equivalent for all the \" charity\" \nshe received at the Convent. We will prove this out of \nthe mouths of the Catholics themselves, by quoting the \nfollowing article referring1 to Miss R. just b'efore she en- \ntered the Convent. \n\n[From the Boston Jesuit of August 6, 1831.] \n\n\" We have frequently heard and noticed the anti-christian pre- \njudice v.-hich a conversion from sectarianism to the Holy Catholic \nChurch, produces in the minds of the unconverted friend* arid \nrelatives of the new convert. \n\n'• A young lady (meaning Miss R.) who lived nota iqo, which af- \n\n\n40 INTRODUCTION. \n\nfects the correctness of Miss R.'s statement. Wherever \nthere is any contradiction in matter of fact, it rests between \nMiss R. and the inmates of the Convent, relating to facts \nof a secret nature, which none but the Nuns, the Novitiates, \nand the Priests could know. The Superior, when under \noath, admitted that Miss R. \" would know every thing \nwhich took place during the time she was with us, except- \ning what occurred in the school room.\" \n\nIt is therefore simply a question of personal veracity, and \nof internal and external evidence of truth. Such being the \ncase, and Miss R. having been presented in an unfavora- \nble and unjust light, in the Report of the Boston Com- \nmittee, it has seemed to her friends that it was due to her \nand due to truth, that the estimation in which she is held \nby those who know her best, should be made public at \nthis time, as ample proof that she has friends to protect her \nfrom injustice. \n\nThe subjoined certificates were given shortly after the \npublication of the Report of the Boston Committee, and \nthough many more, respectable names, might be obtained, \nthe number and character of those given must satisfy every \ncandid mind, that few young ladies of twenty, in any circle, \ncould produce better evidence of their being entitled to \nconfidence and esteem. \n\nI hereby certify that Miss Rebecca T. Reetl has been, for more \nthan two years last past, a communicant at Christ Church ; that I \nhave always resarded her as a devout person and exemplary in \nher Christian walk and conversation ; that I repose great confi- \ndent's in her sincerity and intention to relate, on all occasions, \nwhat she. believes to be the truth. \n\nWILLIAM CROSWELL, \nRector of Christ Church, Baton. \n\nOctober ZOth, 1834. \n\nCambridgeport, October 3d, 1334. \n\nThis certifies that Miss R. Theresa Reed attended the Cam- \nbridgeport Academy several months within the last year. It \ngives me pleasure to add. that so far as my knowledge extended, \nher conduct during this time was uniformly pood. \n\nSAMUEL ADAMS, \nPrincipal of Cambridgeport Academy. \n\nWe the subscribers, having been acquainted with Miss Rebecca \nTheresa Reed, previous to her becoming a member of the Ursuline \nCommunity at Mount Benedict, Charlestown, and since leaving \nthat institution, feel it due to the cause of truth and justice to say^ \nthat we consider her a person entitled to cur confidence, BUS- \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 41 \n\ntaining as she does a character distinguished for iove of truth, for \nunexceptionable morals, and for meek and modest deportment. \nAnd we feel it our duty to give, and cheerfully do give, this our \ntestimonial, to be used by her and her friends as they shall deem \nmost expedient. \n\nSeptember 26. 1834. \n\nBoston. — James Day, Ebenezer F. Gay. \n\nLe.ringlcm. — Jonathan Munroe, Rhoda Munroe, Susan E. Mun- \nroe, John Viles, Sally D. Viles. Sarah H. Viles, William L. Smith, \nSolomon Harrington, Betsey Harrington. \n\nWobinn. — Luke Wyman, Ruth Wyman, Ruthy B. Wyman, \nLucy Wyman, Seth Wyman, Sarah R. Wyman, Bill .Russell, \nJohn Wade, Hannah Wade, John F. Harris, Phebe Harris, Ed- \nrmm Parker, Thaddeus Parker. \n\nMedford. — Anna Teel, Anna Briant, Leonard Bucknam, Anna \nBiioknam, Matilda Johnson. \n\nf'rasic's Paint. — Elijah Wheeler. \n\ndliarlcstown, — Stephen Symmes. Prisrilla Symmes, John \nSwan. Samuel Gardner, Priscilla Reed, Cliarles Gordon, Ezra \nWelsh. Caleb Harrington, Sarah Gardner. Patience Gardner, Abi- \ngail Tufts, Caroline Griliin. Nathan Field, Jacob Page, John \nfapley. \n\nCambridseport. — E. F. Valentine, N. C. Valentine, Martha \nValentine, Jane Valentine, Moses B. Houghton, Almira Hough- \nton, Moses Ward, Ira Ward, Amos Hazcltine, Phebe Hazeltine, \nSu*an Hazeltine. \n\nCftm/iridgc. — Josiah Johnson. Jonathan Hunt, Betsey Hunt, \nO/iris Morse, Sullivan B. Ball, William Hunnewell. \n\nIn comparing the Narrative of Miss R. with the Report \nof the Boston Committee, we ask those who may suppose \nthey meet with any material contradiction, to bear iu mind \nthnt there is one error pervading nearly the whole of that \nver\\ aMe and forcible document. It is this — adopting as \n./ut how accessible ? Did any Protestant parent or gtmr- \n<;iau ever sen the school room, or the sleeping or eating; \nlooms in which fifty of their daughters were taught, fed, and \n\n\n42 \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\nlodged ? No. Was there ever any examination or public \nexercise of the scholars, which their parents were allowed \nto witness ? None. Even Hon. S. P. P. Fay. who states \nin his testimony on the trial of Buzzell that he had had \ndaughters in the Convent six years, and had visited it at \nall tunes, also declares on oath — \" I never saw the school \nat the Convent, and never but once went beyond the par- \nlor. When I wished to see my children, they were sent \ninto the parlor, and when I wished to see any of the \n\" Community,\" (their teachers,) saw them also in the par- \nlor. The only time I went beyond the parlor, was once \nwhen I saw the ceremony of taking the white veil,\" (pro- \nbably in the chapel.) Levi Thaxter, Esq. another highly \nintelligent Protestant patron of the Convent, testified tliut \nhe was never in the school, though he went to the Convent \nvery frequently. He saw his daughters in die parlor. \nWhen he wished to see any one they were sent for. \n\nT:his, then, is the whole amount of \"the dwelling hein^ \naccessible at proper times to the parents and friends\" of \nthe pupils there. They were admitted to a common parlor, \nand not permitted to enter any other room in that spacious \nestablishment. No Protestant eye ever saw the apart- \nments of the Nuns, except on the occasion when the se- \nlectmen of Charlestown examined the building by appoint- \nment, the day of the riot. Even the physician, as we \nunderstand, never saw any of the Relig-ieuic, to prescribe \nfor them, in their private apartments. When sick, they \nwere attended by the infirmarian, one of their own order. \n\nAn attempt to establish a Protestant school on such a \nplan of secrecy as this, would not be tolerated by judicious \nparents a moment. Are Catholic instructors of young \nladies more entitled to confidence in these respects than \nProtestant teachers would be ? Suppose a community of \nEpiscopalian females should open a seminary for young \nladies, and admit no person to go beyond a certain common \nvisiting room. Suppose, that while they refused access to \nall other men or women, they freely admitted to their most \nprivate apartments, at all times of day or night, a number \nof clergymen, of their own denomination, by whom they \nwere required to confess in private, without reserve, all \ntheir faults, wishes, and feelings, and submit to any penan- \nces these clergymen might impose on them, both sexes \nbeing under a solemn vow, which debarred them from \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 43 \n\never marrying. Suppose one of the rules of the establish- \nment was never to enter a room without first knocking \nthree times, and wailing for the knocks to he returned. \nWould such an institution, so conducted hy Protestants, he \napproved ? \n\nWe ask a discreet and discerning community, to divest \nthemselves of the false notion that the seminary at Mount \nBenedict was invested with a mysterious sanctitv any \nmore than our own colleges and schools. All the forms \nof Protestant worship are observed at Harvard college, \nhut who thought of charging the young men with \" sacri- \nlege,\" and with intolerance to the Unitarian religion, when \nthey committed riots, and depredations upon property \nthere last summer, for which they were indicted ? Even \nshould onr state he disgraced hy a lawless moh burning \ndown the University chapel, in the impulse of a blind fury, \nincited by vague rumors that a student, who had run. \naway, and been carried hack, had been put to death ; who \nwould think of attributing the deed to \" the deep-seated \nrepugnance to the\" Unitarian \" faith and form of worship \nwhich exists in every\" Orthodox \"community?\" Who \nwould call upon us, on this score, to lay aside our \"preju- \ndices''1 against Unitarianism ? \n\nWhere is the distinction between the two cases? The \nConvent was either a religions establishment, for the wor- \nship of Roman Catholics, or it was a seminary of learning \ntor the education of Protestant young ladies. If it were \n,he former, it was no place for Protestant children. If it \nKvrr the latter, then it Is entitled to no sanctity ; its \" ves- \nsels\" are no more \" sacred,\" its \" cross\" is no more \" holy,\" \nts \" vestments\" are no more \" consecrated,\" than are ihe \nfurniture and wardroue of the teachers of a Protestant \nlichool. Surely it will not be pretended that a Nunnery \nvn one room of a building can sanctify a school kept in \nanother, by the Nuns themselves as teachers. \n\nGfid forbid that we should say one word in extenuation \n>f the outrage upon the Convent. It was every thing vile \nwhich a midnight attack upon the dwelli-.ig of defenceless \nfemales could lie, where neither virtue nor life were sought \nor assailed ; hut we protest against the attempts that have, \nbeen made in reports, in legal arguments, and even in ju- \ndicial charges, to exaggerate this outrage, as \"a scene of \npopnlar madness and of culpable official neglect, that can \n\n\n44 INTRODUCTION. \n\nhardly find a parallel in that period of the French Revolu- \ntion which will ever be remembered as the reign of ter- \nror.\" It was not an attack upon the religious worship of \nthe Roman Catholics, and it did not have its origin in \" a \nspirit of intolerance, fatal to the genius of our institutions.\" \nThere are six hundred and forty Roman Catholic church- \nes and mass houses in the United States, and who ever \nheard of religious worship in any of them being disturbed 7 \nNo longer ago than the 2Gth of October, 1834, a splendid \nnew Catholic cathedral at St. Louis, Missouri, was con- \nsecrated on SUNDAY, amidst the discharging of cannon \nand the ringing of bells ! and later still, a Protestant \nsenator of Ohio, standing in the streets of Cincinnati, \nwas compelled to take his hat off, in honor to the Catholic \nceremony of the passing host . Here in our own city of \nBoston, which we are striving so hard to brand with \" in- \ntolerance,\" what religious society has ever enjoyed more \nprivileges than have always been extended to the Catho- \nlics? Whose presses are more indulged in the full licen- \ntiousness of attack upon their religious opponents, than \nthe two Catholic presses of Boston ? One of them, the \nCatholic Sentinel, not a month ago, held the following \nexcessively gross language, reflecting on tne purity of the \nwives and daughters of all Protestant Christians who wor- \nship at the Methodist Episcopal Church. That paper of \nFebruary the 7th, 1S35, speaking of a young man who had \nbeen converted from the Catholic to the Protestant religion, \nsays that \" he is loved as an Adonis by these incontinent \nwomen and girls who go to the assignation churches to \nconsecrate their hearts, not to God, but lo the passion of \nillicit love.\" \n\nHere is the real intolerance in this matter. The pre- \nvailing notion seems to be that true toleration requires \nProtestants to shut up their mouths and their presses \nagainst Catholics, but that the Catholics may say any \nthing they please against Protestants ! Religious tolerance \nor intolerance has no more just connection -with the de- \nstruction of .the Catholic school at Mount Benedict, than \nit had with the riots last summer against anti-slavery \nsocieties in New York. Orthodox churches were destroy- \ned by lawless mobs in those outrages, because anti- \nslavery lectures had been delivered in them ; but who cried \nout religious intolerance then .' Who thought that \"the \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 45 \n\nmoving cause of such violence was deep-seated repug- \nnance to the\" Orthodox \" faith and form of worship '.'\" \nAnd yet this might have been assigned as the cause of \nl hose riots, with the same propriety a majority of a com- \nmittee in the Massachusetts Legislature, have recently \ndeclared that the moving cause of the destruction of the \nUrsuline Convent was \" that deep-seated repugnance to \nthe Catholic faith and form of worship, which exists in \nalmost every Protestant community.\" That highly in- \ntelligent committee go farther, ana really deprecate the \nexistence of \" otrong prejudices against the peculiarities \nof that faith.\" \" Prejudice ?\" Is our opposition to the \n\"peculiarities\" of Romish indulgences and auricular con- \nfessions a prejudice ? Is our \" repugnance\" to the establish- \nment in this country of the monastic institutions which \nLuther put down three hundred years ago, and which even \nSpain and other Catholic countries are beginning to abo- \nlish, a \" prejudice ?\" If this be intolerance, then it would \nbe intolerant to oppose in any form the \" peculiarities\" of \nthe Inquisition, should it finally, after being driven out of \nEurope, take refuge in Massachusetts. \n\nThis cry of intolerance against ourselves, because a \nvillainous mob have burnt down a Catholic, school-house, \nis unjust to our own character and institutions, and ought \nto be arrested before it becomes stamped forever by the \nseal of history. The Propaganda of Rome, and the \nfounders of the Leopold fund in Austria, to convert heretics \nin America, could not have found belter missionaries for \ntheir purpose, than the scoundrels who burnt the Convent. \nOur own public acts and documents are at this moment \nquoted most effectually in the great West, by the Catholics, \nto excite sympathy for their religion, by representing it as \nterribly persecuted in this land of professed tolerance. It \nwas the mistaken impulse of popular indignation, fomented \nby the elopement and mysterious return to the Convent of \nMiss Harrison, and by the indiscreet threats of the Su- \nperior to the selectmen of Charlestown, that \" the Bishop \nhas twenty thousand of the vilest Irishmen at his com \nmand, and there will be a retaliafion ; you will have your \nhouses torn down over your licads, and you may read your \nriot act till your throats are sore, and you'll net quell \nthem.\"* — It was these \" facts that contributed to the ex- \n\n* Mr. Attorney -General Austin, in his eloquent argument against \n\n\n46 INTRODUCTION. \n\ncitement which preceded the outrage; and led to its com- \nmission,\" and not, as we have permitted ourselves to be \nmade to believfe by the Catholics themselves, \" a spirit of \nintolerance fatal to the genius of our institutions. \"t \n\nWhat then is our duty as Christians and good citizens ? \nTo tell the truth, or to keep back the truth, for fear that \n\" offences must epme ?\" Are we not bound to bring this \nquestion back to its true position, as an outrage upon pri- \nvate property and personal right, an invasion of domestic \nsecurity and the immunity of habitation, and an offence \nagainst public justice ana public decency? Let us treat \nit as a civil, and not as a religious question, condemning it \nas strongly as if it were the destruction of a Protestant \nschool- house by a lawless mob ; and thus justly relieve \nourselves of the mountain of odium we have been laboring \nto heap upon pur institutions, as if there really had been a \nterrible \" spirit of religious intolerance\" to ward the Roman \nCatholic worship \" unexpectedly developed among us.\" \n\nIt does not follow that we must approve of the institu- \ntion at Mount Benedict, because we abhor the act by which \nit was destroyed. We need not turn Catholics in order to \nprove that we are not intolerant Protestants. We are not \nobliged to unite with Romanists, in proclaiming our own \nreligious intolerance, in order to show that we sympathize \n\nBuzzell, says, in relation to this fact sworn to by Mr. Edward Cut- \nter : — \" She (the Superior) is accused of having told Mr. Cutter \nthat 'the Bishop had twenty thousand of the vilest Irishmen under \nhis control,' and she acknowledges (much as such an acknowledg- \nment might be supposed to operate against her) that she said so, or \nsomething to that effect.\" \n\nt The origin of the mob has been ascribed, by the Superior her- \nself, to the right cause. That lady, when under oath, testified, \nthat while the Convent was in flames, \" she told Mr. E. Cutter \nthat it all originated from Miss Harrison going to his house.\" \nJudge Fay also testified, that he left his daughter in the Convent, \nand went home leaving a mob at the gate of the Convent, the night \nof the riot, satisfied that no violence would be attempted, because, \nknowing no cause for any other excitement but Miss Harrison \nleaving the Convent, and believing this was all explained, he did \nnot feel alarmed. It did not occur to him that there was any other \ncause to produce such a result, (the riot.) And yet, Jive months \nafter, Judge Fay discovers and publishes the discovery, that Misa \nR. was the whole cause of the mob, because she had said to his \nwife nearly two years ago, that she hoped to be an instrument of \nshowing the truth ! \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. 47 \n\nwith them for their loss of property by violence. We are \nnot called upon to shut the door against all secessions from \nCatholic .Nunneries, by lending our help to carry into effect \nagainst a Protestant daughter of one of our own citizens, \nthe dogma ol \" mother church,\" that whenever a Catho- \nlic changes his religion, his motives and conduct are to be \ninvariably suspected, and his honesty never trusted.\" \n\nNo. We are bound to put forth all the vigilance and \nmajesty of the laws to detect, and punish and redress this \noutrage upon the peace and dignity of the commonwealth; \nbut we aro not bound to deplore our \" repugnance\" to the \nCatholic religion as a disreputable \"prejudice,\" and least \n'of all are we called on to pronounce panegyrics upon \nNunneries and Catholic seminaries, in order to indemnify \nthe sufferers by inducing more Protestant Christians to \nneglect our own schools, and send their daughters to be \neducated in a Convent. \n\nIt is a question affecting education, and not affecting re- \nligious toleration : and it is time to correct the error that \nthere is no distinction in matters of religious concernment \nbetween a Catholic ^Monastery and a Catholic Church ; \nbetween a seminary for educating Protestant girls by \nCatholic teachers, and a purely religious Community of \nCatholics, exercising their forms of devotion without, dis- \nturbing the public peace, or obstructing othet-s in their re- \nligions worsnip. Ncii.ier should it be forgotten that the \nconstitution, which declares that \" all religious sects and \ndenominations shall be equally under the protection of \nthe law,\" also declares, that to be entitled to such protec- \ntion, they must \"demean themselves peaceably and as \ngood citizens of the common wealth.\" \n\nIn one word, and as a full justification of the present \npublication of these Suggestions and the accompanying \nNarrative; we ask, if females who are hereafter to become \nmodels of fashion in our most refined circles of society, \nand the future mothers of American citizens, are to be \neducated in Catholic Convents, is it not a matter of vital \nimportance, that the interior discipline of such institutions \nshould be fully made known .' Our maxim is, \" Prove all \nthings, and hold fast that which is good.\" \n\n\n48 \n\n\nINTRODUCTION. \n\n\nto education arid works of charitj. They can have read history \nto little purpose, if they do not know that the great argument in \nfavor of all Monasteries, three hundred years ago, and since, was \nand ever has been, that they were seats of learning and hospitals \nof charity. Take the following from Rees' Cyclopaedia. \n\n\" Although none in this enlightened period can approve either \nthe original establishment or continued subsistence of Monasteries, \nyet the destruction of them was felt and lamented, for a conside- \nrable time, as a great evil. One inconvenience that attended their \ndissolution was the loss of many valuable books, for during the \ndark ages religious houses were the repositories of literature and \nscience. Besides, they were schools of education and learning, \nfor every Convent had one person or more appointed for this pur- \nposse, and all the neighbors that desired it might have their \nchildren taught grammar and church music thert, without any \nexpense. In the Nunneries, also, young females teere taught to \nwork ami rend, and not only people of the lower ranks, but most \nof the noblemen's and ffentlemen's daughters were instrttcted in \nthose places. All the Monasteries were also, in effect, great hos- \npitals, and wore rpost of them obliged to relieve many poor people \nevery day. They were likewise houses of entertainment for all \ntravellers. And the nobility and gentry not only provided for \ntheir old servants in these houses, but for their younger children \nantl impoverished friends, by making them first monks and nuns, \nand in time priors and prioresses, abbots and abbesses.\" \n\nIt follows, therefore, that if the argument of the Boston Commit- \ntee, in favor of establishing Ursuline Convents, is a good one, it is \ni\\ist as eood for re-establishing the whole monastic system which \nthe Reformation abolished, three hundred years ago. In fact it \nwould seem as if the admirers of Catholic Cloisters in this country, \nreally meant to set about seriously reforming back the Reforma- \ntion! \n\n\nSIX MONTHS IN A CONVENT. \n\n\nIN the summer of 1826, while passing \nthe Nunnery on Mount Benedict, Charles- \ntown, Mass., in company with my school- \nmates, the question was asked by a young \nlady, who I think was a Roman Catholic, \nhow we should like to become Nuns. I \nreplied, (after hearing her explanation of \ntheir motives for retirement, (fee.) \"I \nshould like it well,\" and gave as my prin- \ncipal reasons, their apparent holy life, my \nlove of seclusion, &c. The conversation \nwhich passed at that time made but little \nimpression upon my mind. But soon af- \nter, the \" JReligieuse\"* came from Boston \n\n• By the term \" Religieuse*' 1 mean those who constituted the \nUrauline Community. \n\n\n50 SIXMONTHS \n\nto take possession of Mount Benedict as \ntheir new situation. We were in school, \nbut had permission to look at them as \nthey passed. One of the scholars re- \nmarked, that they were Roman Catho- \nlics, and that our parents disapproved of \ntheir te lets. The young lady who before \nasked the question, how we should like \nto become Nuns, and whose name I have \nforgotten, was affected even to tears in \nconsequence of what passed, and begged \nthem to desist, saying, \" they were saints; \nGod's people ; and the chosen few ;\" that \n\"they secluded themselves that they \nmight follow the Scriptures more perfect- \nly, pray for the conversion of sinners, \nand instruct the ignorant* in the princi- \nples of religion.\" This conversation, \nwith the solemn appearance of the Nuns, \naffected me very sensibly, owing pro- \nbably to the peculiar state of my feel- \nings. The impressions thus made re- \n\n• By the ward ignorant is mear.-t what they term heretics. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 51 \n\nmained on my mind several months; \nand at the age of thirteen years and four \nmonths I asked my parents if they were \nwilling I should become an inmate of the \nconvent. This proposition my parents \nwere inclined to treat as visionary ; but \nthey soon discovered themselves to be in \nan error. Nothing of consequence was \nsaid upon the subject; but soon after, \nowing to the delicacy of my health, and \nother reasons, it was deemed expedient for \nme to visit my friends in New Hampshire, \nand being fond of retirement, this arrange- \nment accorded very well with my feelings. \n\nWhile in New Hampshire I spent ma- \nny pleasant hours, which I think of with \ndelight. Memory oft brings to view and \nfaithfully delineates those hours of retire-' \nrncnt and happiness which I imagined I \nshould spend, were I an inhaUtant of a \ncloister. \n\nWhile writing this narrative, 1 often \nlament my little knowledge of history, \nfor had I been more acquainted with it, 1 \n\n\n52 SIX MONTHS \n\ndo not think I ever should have united \nmyself to an institution of this nature. \nBut to proceed ; I never could prevail on \nmy parents to say much on this subject. \nI kept silence, resolving in my own mind \nto become acquainted with some one who \nwould introduce me to the Superior of the \nUrsuline Community, but did not ask any \none till after the death of my mother. \nPrevious to that event, I had become ac- \nquainted with Miss M. H., a domestic in \nMr. H. J. K.'s family, near my father's \nhouse, in Charlestown. \n\nAfter my mother's decease, while re- \nsiding-with my father, my sisters being \nabsent, Miss H. came to our house and \nbegged me to keep her as a domestic a \nlittle while, as she had no place. She \nhad walked a great way for the purpose \nof seeing Mr. K., who had moved away. \nThis was in the fall of 1 830. After con- \nsulting with my father, I concluded to let \nher stay. She found me in great trouble \nand grief, in consequence of the absence \n\n\nIN A CON VENT. 53 \n\nof my two younger sisters, whom I very \ndearly loved, and who had gone to reside \nwith my sisters in Boston. After family \nprayers were over, and I about retiring, \nI stepped from my room to see if Miss H. \nhad extinguished her lamp, when, to my \nsurprise, I found her kneeling and hold- \ning a string of beads. I asked her what \nshe was doing. She did not speak for \nsome time. When she did, she said she \nwas saying her \"Hail Marys.\"*1 I asked \nher what the \" Hail Marys\" were, at the \nsame time taking hold of the beads. She \nthen said, \" I say my prayers on these to \nthe Blessed Virgin.\" My friends will of \ncourse excuse my^ curiosity at this time, \nfor I had never before learned their man- \nner of praying to saints and angels. Be- \nfore I left her, she showed me an Ag- \n\n\n• Catholic Prayer, (translated from the Latin.) — \"Hail, \nMary ! full of grace ; our Lord is with thee ! Blessed art them \namong women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, JBSUS ! \nHoly Mary, mother of God, pray for us, sinners, now and at the \nhour of our death. Amen.\" \n\n\n54 SIX MONTHS \n\nnus Dei,* which she wore to preserve \nherself from the temptations of Satan. I \ncannot remember all the conversation \nwhich passed the next day on the sub- \nject, but I learned that she had been ac- \nquainted with the Nuns in Boston, and \nwas also acquainted with the Superior. \n\nThe first pleasant day, I asked her to \naccompany me to the Superior, which she \ndid, and appeared by her questions to \nknow my motive. She introduced me to \nthe Superior in the following manner. \nWe were invited by a Lay Sisterf to sit, \nwho, after retiring, in a few moments \nmade her appearance, requesting Miss H. \nto see her in another room. Soon after, \nthe Superior came in and embraced me \nwith much seeming affection, and put the \nfollowing questions to me: — how long \nsince the death of my mother ; whether I \never attended the Catholic church, or \n\n• Lamb of God; — a small piece of wax sewed up in silk in th* \nform of a heart, \nt Those Nuns who are occupied in domestic affairs. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. \n\n'«iew any thing of the principles of their \nreligion ; what I had heard respecting \nthem; of their order; my views of it; \nwhat progress I had made in my studies ; \nwhether I had attended much to history ; \nknew any thing of embroidery, draw- \ning, or painting, or any other ornamental \nwork; whether I had ever assisted in \ndomestic affairs. After which questions, \ntaking my hand, she said, \" O, it feels \nmore like a pancake than any thing \nelse.\"* She inquired in what capacity I \ndesired to enter the institution, whether \nas a Recluse or a scholar ; whether I had \ndone attending school, &c. I replied that \nI did not consider my education complete ; \nthat I wished to go into the school at- \ntached to the Nunnery on the same terms \nas other pupils, until I had made suffi- \n\n\n• This may appear laughable, but as I intend to publish all \nwhich will be for the benefit of the reader, I cannot refrain from \nmentioning this, in order to show the course of flattery, Sec. made \nuse of by the Superior and those connected with the establishment, \nto draw the inexperienced into their power, and make them con- \nverts to the religion of the Pope. \n\n\n56 SIX MONTHS \n\ncient progress to take the veil and become \na Recluse ; that my father was averse to \nmy becoming a Nun, but I was of opinion \nthat he would concur with my Episcopal \nfriends, in not objecting to my becoming \na pupil In the course of the interview, \nthe Superior conversed much upon the \nScriptures, and intimated that I ought to \nmake any sacrifice, if necessary, to adopt \nthe religion of the cross; repeating the \nwords of our Saviour, \" He that loveth \nfather or mother more than me, is not \nworthy of me,\" &c. \n\nAt a subsequent interview the Superior \ndesired me to see the Bishop, or clergy, \nremarking, she believed I had a vocation \nfor a religious life, and the Bishop would \ntell me whether I had or not. She also \nasked if I was acquainted with a Catho- \nlic friend who would introduce me to the \nBishop, and mentioned a Mr. R., who \nwould introduce me to him. I was un- \nacquainted with Mr. R., but had seen \nhim at my sister's house in Boston. She \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 57 \n\nsaid that the Bishop or Mr. R. would \nalso discuss the matter with my father, \nand reconcile him to Catholicity. After \nconsulting some friends who were in fa- \nvor of the Catholic religion, I consented \nto see Mr. R. ; who, being requested, \ncalled at my father's, gave me some \nscripture proofs of the infallibility of the \nRomish Church; as, \"Thou art Peter, \nand upon this Rock I build my church, \nand the gates of hell shall not prevail \nagainst it;\" and \"whose sins ye retain \nthey are retained, and whose sins ye re- \nmit they are remitted.\" \" He that will \nnot hear the church, let him be to thee as \nan heathen 'man and a publican.\" He \n(Mr. R.) desired I would secrete the pa- \nper upon which the texts were quoted. \nHe then took his leave, saying he would \ncall to see me in town soon at the Misses \nS., when he would introduce me to the \nBishop. \n\n1 will here remark, that previous to my \njoining the Community, I heard of many \n\n\n58 SIX MONTHS \n\nmiracles wrought by Catholic Priests. \nMrs. G. brought a lady one day in a \nchaise to show me her eyes, which were \nrestored by means of a Priest, Dr. O'F. \nShe, as Mrs. G. stated, was totally blind, \nbut having faith in miracles, she knelt to \nher confessor, requesting him to heal her. \nAfter touching her eyes with spittle and \nholy oil, she immediately \" received her \nsight.\" \n\nBefore the next interview with the Su- \nperior, I visited my Protestant friends, the \nMisses S.;, when Mr. R. called and pro- \nposed to introduce me to the Bishop. He \naccordingly accompanied me to the Bish- \nop's, and introduced me as the young \nlady who wished to become acquainted \nwith the tenets of the Church, and recom- \nmended to him by the Honored Mother the \nSuperior, with directions for his ascertain- \ning my vocation as a fit subject for a Re- \ncluse. The Bishop asked me if I knew the \nmeaning of the word \" Nun ;\" how long I \nhad thought of becoming a Nun ; my opi- \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 59 \n\nnion, and the opinion of my friends, in re- \ngard to Catholicity. And as my feelings \nwere easily wrought upon, more particu- \nlarly at this time, questions were put to \nrne, which more mature deliberation leads \nme to think were put under the impres- \nsion that I was very ignorant, and which \nwere very unpleasant for me to answer. \nHe even went so far as to judge my se- \ncret thoughts, saying he knew what was \nthen passing in my mind. I then took \nmy leave, undecided what course to pur- \nsue, and very little edified by the conver- \nsation of the Rt. Rev. Bishop. The Bish- \nop gave directions to Mr. R. to pur- \nchase a Catechism of the Catholic Church \nin the diocese of Boston, (published with \nthe approbation of the Rt. Rev. Bishop \nFen wick,) which I refused to accept. \n\nAbout a week afterwards I called upon \nthe Superior, and made her acquainted \nwith my conversation with the Bishop; \nlikewise with my re/usal of the Cate- \nchism. On learning that my desire was \n\n\n60 SIX MONTHS \n\nstill strong to become an inmate of the \nConvent, she smilingly said, that for one \nso young as I was, to wish to seclude \nmyself from the world and live the life \nof a Religiense, was impossible. I re- \nmarked I did not like the Bishop so well \nas I expected. She exclaimed, \"O! he \nis one of the servants of God ; he did so \nto try your vocation;\" and said that I \nshould like him the better the next time \nI saw him.* After recommending me to \npray for grace, she caused me to kneel \nand receive her blessing ; after which she \nembraced me, and I returned to my fa- \nther's house. I shortly after visited the \nMisses H. in Charlestown, and was intro- \nduced to Mrs. G., who was acquainted \nwith the tenets of the Catholic Church, \nand also with Mr. B., the Catholic Priest. \nAfter a short acquaintance with her I \n\n• I did like him the next time that I called upon him, for he \nconversed in the most solemn manner, and after learning my \nname, said, \" Is it possible that you have a saint's name !\" and \ngave me St. Teresa, as my namesake, a beautiful wax figure, ha- \nbited as an Ursuline Nun. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 61 \n\nwas requested to converse with Mr. B. \nthe Priest, which I did, and liked him \nvery much. He also supplied me with \nbooks, from which I learned that I ought \nto venerate and receive the religion of the \nCatholic Church as the only one and true \nreligion. \n\nOn Good Friday evening, I heard the \nmost affecting Catholic sermon,* in \nCharlcstown, I ever listened to, upon the \nPassion of our divine Redeemer. I soon \nafter visited at Mrs. G.'s, where I saw a \nfine drawing, exhibiting the peaceful and \nflourishing condition of the Holy and \nApostolic Church, until the time of the \nReformation under Martin Luther. Mrs. \nG. recounted the sufferings of the Catho- \nlic Church in consequence of this \"pre- \ntended\" reformation. My friends will \nunderstand, that by this time I had be- \ncome a constant visitor at the Convent. \nOn being sent for at one time by the Su- \nperior, 1 met the Bishop at. the Convent, \n\n\n62 SIX MONTHS \n\nwho was playing with the dogs ; at the \nsame time the Superior hastily approach- \ning, embraced me in the most affection- \nate manner ; as she did ever afterwards \nwhen I visited her at the Convent. \nShe introduced me to the Bishop again, \nwho did not appear to recognise me, and \nsaid that I was sister to the lady who \nvisited him in Boston. At this time I \nthought the Superior and Bishop the \nmost angelic persons living, and in one \ninstance gave way to anger in conse- \nquence of hearing a few words spoken \nagainst them. On being told that my \nmind remained still the same, the Bishop \nremarked, \" I will pray for you,\" and re- \ncommended to me the advantage of con- \ntinuing under the instruction of the Priest, \nand said he should like to see my father \nor sister. \n\nAfter the interview with the Bishop, I \nreturned to my father's, who was much \ndispleased with the steps I had taken, \nand bade me renounce all connection with \n\n\nINACONVENT. 63 \n\nthe Catholics, or leave my friends. (This \nhe said in a moment of excitement.) \nBut, being so much attracted by the ap- \nparent holiness of the inmates of the \nConvent, and viewing this as the only \ntrue Church, I wished to become a mem- \nber of it. \n\nPerhaps it will be proper to state some \nof Mrs. G.'s conversation. After hearing \nfrom her a pleasing account of the life of \na Nun, &c., I mentioned I should like to \nbecome one, and would, if I could pre- \nvail on my father and friends to consent ; \nhut unless I could, I must despair, as \nthey would not be willing to advance the \nmoney which would be needed to go \nthere. She replied, \"It is not money that \nwill ever induce them lo take you; it \nmust all be the work of God.\" She \nasked me what my Church friends* said \nupon the subject. On my telling her that \nthey were reconciled to my entering the \n\n\n64 blX MONTHS \n\ninstitution, particularly as a scholar ; that \nthey liked the seclusion of the Convent, \n&c. Mrs. G. stated she could see not the \nleast objection to my following my own \ninclination. I then took my leave, \npromising to see her at my friend Mrs. \nH.'s. The next time I saw her, she ad- \nvised me to leave my father's house and \nall, for the sake of Christ. She said she \nwould procure me ornamental work, \nwhich would support me, independent of \nmy relatives, &c., which she did. I \nthanked her most heartily, and told her \nI thought I should be happy, if I were \ncertain of going to a Cloister. She gave \nme her word that I should. I then took \nup with her advice and left my friends, \nI thought for life, as I had no doubt but \nthat I should soon enter the Convent, re- \nsolving to leave all for the love of God, \nand to consecrate the remainder of my \ndays to his service. I believed Mrs. G. \nto be my sincere friend, and an Episcopa- \nlian, as she had always told me she was, \nand placed myself under her protection. \n\n\nIN A CON VENT. 65 \n\nAfter visiting some Protestant friends, I \nfound means to procure my clothing, &c., \nand went immediately to reside opposite \nthe Catholic church. I employed myself \nwhile there in doing ornamental work for \nmy Catholic friends, and also in working \nlace for the Bishop, the altar, &c. About \nthis time I was offered compensation, \nhut refused it, and received a present of \nten dollars, a crucifix, a pearl cross, and \ntwo hooks, with my name stamped upon \nthem in gold letters, which presents I re- \nceived as tokens of kindness and friend- \nship.* And wishing to deny myself of \nany thing worldly, I gave up what jew- \nelry I had, telling them I knew of no \ngreater sacrifice I could at that time make, \nthan to give up all the treasures my dear \nmother left me. I also gave my globe \n\n• I wish to have it understood, that the lettering on these books \nW.TS my new name, \" Mary Agnes Teresa.\" My baptismal name, \nit will bo recollected, is Rebecca Theresa. The books were \ngiven me by Mrs. G. , who said they were from the Bishop; and \nhe afterwards, in the Convent, confirmed the statement, saying, ha \nknew at that time of my vocation, and for that reason ««r/. T.;a a \nreligious name, which wn? i Saint'* name. \n\n\n66 SIXMONTHS \n\nand goldfish, which were a present to \nme. At that time I thought I was holy^ \nand could hardly speak to a Protestant. \nI had read many Catholic books. My \ntime was wholly employed in working for \nthe Catholics, except my hours for medi- \ntation and prayers. \n\nThe ordinance of baptism* was ad- \nministered to me by Mr. B., himself and \na Mrs. P. standing sponsors for me ; my \nformer baptism being considered by the \nCatholics invalid. While in Charlestown, \nI stood sponsor for Mrs. G.'s daughter, of \nwhom I shall speak in the course of this \nnarrative. I would here remark, had I \ntaken up with the advice given me by \nmany of my friends, I should not now \nhave the unpleasant duty of relating these \nfacts ; but so it was ; I had imbibed a re- \nlish for what I supposed to be \" real \npleasures,\" but which, alas ! I have found, \n\n• At Ihe time of my baptism, I was anointed with oil ; a piece \nof salt was put in my mouth, the Priest breathing three times upon \nme, and touching my eyes, ears, and nose with spittle, speaking \nLatin all the while. They profess to take these ceremonies from \nthe ScrijTtnrflH. \n\n\nIN A C ON VENT. 67 \n\nby sad experience, to belike the \" waters \nof Marah.\" At an interview with the \nSuperior, I was introduced to two of the \n\" chosen Religieuse,\" the mother assis- \ntant and Mrs. Mary Benedict. The first \nquestion asked, was what word I brought \nfrom my friends. On my hesitating to \ngive an answer, she insisted upon knowing \nwhat they said ; on which I told her all \nthey had said, word for word, as nearly \nas I could recollect ; also the advice I re- \nceived from a Mr. E., which appeared to \ndisplease her much ; and although she \nstrove to suppress her feelings, it was evi- \ndent she was much displeased. \n\nAfter some questions respecting Mr. E., \nthe Superior remarked, he was none other \nthan the man who made children's books. \nShe also questioned me with regard to a \nconversation which took place between \nmy brother and myself on Charlestown \nbridge, (which was published in the \n\" JESUIT,\"* highly exaggerated,) and ap- \n\n• I afterwards asked Priest B. to explain w Hal it meant ; he \n\n\n68 S I X M O N T H S \n\npeared greatly pleased with the language \nof my brother, saying, with peculiar em- \nphasis, \" O, you will die a martyr to the \ncause of truth, should you die under per- \nsecution.\" I took my leave of her, pro- \nmising to call again when she should de- \nsire. \n\nAfter this, she wrote a letter to my \nfather, of the contents of which I was \nthen ignorant, hut have since learned it \ncontained offers of two or three quarters' \nschooling, free of expense. My father \nsays he treated it with contempt ; and his \nanswer by the bearer was briefly this : \n\" he wished me to have nothing to do \nwith that institution ; that my friends \nwould prefer my going to a Protestant \nseminary.\" At my next interview with \nthe Superior, she however told me, my \nfather had become reconciled to my re- \nmaining with them two or three quar- \nters ; after which time, he would inform \n\nsaid Dr. O'F. made a mistake in writing it for the press ; and \nhe promised it should be corrected. For the paragraph from the \nJesuit, see Introduction. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 69 \n\nthem whether he could consent to have \nme stay there longer, as a teacher of mu- \nsic.* She previously presented me with \nsome slate pongee, which was the uni- \nform dress worn Ly the scholars in the \npublic apartments ; telling me at the same \ntime to prepare myself and have my \nthings ready by such a day. She asked \nme, if I should come without the consent \nof my Boston friends, if I supposed they \nwould insert any thing in the public pa- \npers, or make any disturbance, or come \nthere for me ? to which I replied, I thought \nnot. After preparing myself for a public \nreception, I visited the Superior, when \nshe said, if I would place myself under \nher care from this time, she would pro- \ntect me forever ; and particularly from the \npersecution of the \"heterodox;\" and she \n\n• I attended music, because the Superior desired it ; and she as- \nsured me there was no need of assistance from my friends, even \nif my father had consented, for I could with my needle be of suf- \nficient use to the Community to support myself without their \nassistance. She also told me I should study when I chose, and \nmight have the privilege of coming into the Religieuse Community \nto recite to her. \n\n\n70 SIX MONTHS \n\nlooked to heaven above for her reward.* \nShe then stated that the Bishop had con- \ncluded to receive me, not as a member of \nthe public department, but as a \" Novi- \ntiate,\" which would screen me from the \nquestions of the Protestant scholars. She \nalso added, that I should be received as \nthe other Sisters were, and that we were \nto support ourselves by our talents and \nindustry. The names of the Sisters were, \nMrs. Mary Ursula,! Miss Mary Magda- \n\n• I wish it to be understood, that, being influenced by the Superior \nand Mrs. G.'s advice, after hearing Romish preaching and \nreading their books, I went to board at Mrs. H.'s, opposite the \nCatholic church, where I employed my time in ornamental work ; \nvisited the Convent often, and informed myself as much as possi- \nble of a Recluse's life ; lived as retired as the \" Charity Sisters,\" \nexcept visiting some of my relatives three times, twice accompa- \nnied with Romish friends. \n\nf Mrs. Mary Ursula came from New-Hampshire, and was re- \nceived as Choir Religieuse. She was the eldest in the Commu- \nnity; this I learned from the Superior, who often reprimanded \nher for saying many words in an uncouth, rustic manner, (such \nas daoun for down, &c.) telling her of her ignorance, &c. She \nnever refused complying with the rules, but when reprimanded, \nwould kneel at once, and kiss the floor. I often wished to ask if \nshe was happy, but dared not speak (without permission) tc her. \nTheir proceedings appeared so strange, that I was in continual \nfear. The Novices frequently trembled when approaching \"th« \nmother,\" particularly at confession. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 71 \n\nlene, Miss Mary Joseph, and Miss Mary \nAustin. The latter was both teacher and \npupil. I answered that I should like those \nconditions best. She then desired me to \nkneel down and take the following obli- \ngation : \" I do, with the grace and assis- \ntance of Almighty God, renounce the \nworld for ever, and place myself under \nyour protection, from this day to conse- \ncrate myself to his honor and glory, in the \nhouse of God, and to do whatever obedi- \nence prescribes, and tell no one of this \nobligation but Mr. R, in confession.\" \nAfter this, the Superior summoned two of \nthe \" Choir lleligieuse,\" who conducted \nme to the garden, where they left me to \namuse myself. Presently the Superior \njoined me, wishing to know how I liked \nthe garden, the flowers, &c. Observing a \npocket album in my hand, she asked \nwhat I had hoarded up there ; some \nworldly goods ? She took it, and examin- \ning it, desired to know if I wished to \nkeep some money I had in it, (fifteen dol- \n\n\n72 SIXMONTHS \n\nlars.) I replied no ; as 1 was going to join \nthem, I would intrust it to her care. She \nalso requested me to sing one tune ; I com- \nplied, and sung \" There's nothing true but \nHeaven.\" Her observation was, she \nshould wish me to commence immediately \nwith music. I then left the Convent, and \nattended the sacraments of confession and \ncommunion ; and on Sabbath morning, \nAugust 7th, 1831, I was attended to the \ngate of the Convent by my friend, Mrs. \nG. I was shown into the public parlor \nby the Lay Sister, and was requested to \nkneel and continue my devotion, until the \nSuperior made her appearance. She soon \ncame, and made a sign for me to follow \nher. She led the way into a long room, \ndarkened, at one end of which stood a \nlarge crucifix, made of bone, which I was \nafterwards informed was made of the \nbones of saints. The Superior told me, \nin a whisper, it was the time of silence. \nBut after arranging my dress, she took \nfrom her toilet a religious garb, which \n\n\nINACONVENT. 73 \n\nshe placed upon my head, and hade me \nkiss it, saying it had been blessed by the \nBishop. She then pronounced a short Latin \nprayer, while I was kneeling, at the same \ntime giving me her blessing. After this, \nshe conducted me into another apartment, \nwhere was a stranger, whom she called a \nPostulant •.* and giving me permission to \nspeak, she left the room. A Lay Sister \nthen entered the room with refreshment, \nafter partaking which, we had permission \nto walk in one particular path in the \ngarden. This stranger picked up a pear, \nand began to eat it, and invited me to do \nthe same; which I declined, being ac- \nquainted with the rules of the Convent, \nwhich are very strict, as will be learned \nin the course of the narrative. She did \nnot regard the rules so strictly as the Su- \nperior required, who, being made ac- \nquainted with her conversation by sepa- \nrately questioning us. sent her away, as \n\n\nCandida;* for a Recluse \n\n\n74 SIX MONTHS \n\nshe said, to another order ;* but I now \nknow that this was not the case. V \n\nTo return to our walk in the garden ; \nthe bell rang, when we were immediately \nconducted to the Religieuse Choir ; and \nhere the Superior caused me to kneel three \ntimes, before I could suit her. After the \nperfcrmances were over, which consisted \nof the office of adoration to the Blessed \nVirgin and prayers to the Saints, repeated \nin the Latin tongue, of which I knew \nnothing, we proceeded to the refectory, \nwhere we partook of our ''portions.\" \nAfter saying Latin, we kneeled and kissed \nthe floor, at a signal given by the Supe- \nrior on her snuffbox. Before eating, one \nof the Religieuse said, \" In nomine domini \nnostri Jesu Christe,\"f all making the sign \n\n• I believed she had gone to another order, aad after returning \nto my Sisters, lold them so. (together with my pastor.) that she \nwas with the Sisters of Charity ; when, to my surprise, she called \nupon me, said she had never thought of going to another order, \nand that the Superior had not done by her as she agreed. \n\nt In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. When opportunity \noffered, 1 asked Uxe Superior to explain the meaning. She said, ir. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 75 \n\nof the cross, and responding, \"Amen.\" \nAfter receiving our portions, we performed \nseveral devotions, such as kissing the floor \nand repeating Latin, while the \" Ange- \nlus \" was ringing. We then went imme- \ndiately to the \"community/' On enter- \ning this room, the \"Novices\" kneel and \n\\-epeat the \" Ave Maria/'* kiss the floor, \nand seat themselves for recreation, ac- \ncording to the rules given by the Superi- \nor, entitled, \" Rules by the Reverend \nMother.\" The following are the rules, \nwhich were inclosed in a gilt frame and \nsuspended in the community : and it is \n\n\na very solemn manner. \"You mus\" not, my dear Sister, give way \nto curiosity. Do you not recollect it is against the rules for a \nRelisieusp to do so?\" I answered, '''Yes, Mamere!\" and com- \nplied at one '\\ (liy kissing the floor.) when she observed : \"A \nReligieuse should never have a will of her own ; as she grew in \nperfection in the order, she would understand what these words \nmean ; it will be revealed to you when you are deserving.\" She \ntaught me to belH-ve that the \"Office of the Blessed Virgin,\" \n(which was in Latin, and which we all repeated, without under- \nstanding it.) was none other than that chanted in heaven by the \nSaints, around the throne of the Almighty, and called the sweet \ncommunion of \"Ail Saints.\" \n• Hail Marv. \n\n\n76 SIX MONTHS \n\nthe duty of every Novice to read them, at \nleast, once a week. \n\n1. To rise on the appearance of the \nSuperior. \n\n2. When reprimanded, to kneel at once \nand kiss the floor, until the signal be \ngiven to rise. \n\n3. When speaking of the Superior, to \nsay our Mother ; when speaking to her, \nand to the professed Choir Religieuse, Ma- \nmere; to say Sister, when speaking to the \nNovices ; of them, Miss ; and of the pro- \nfessed Choir, Mrs. ; to say our or ours, in- \nstead of my or mine. \n\n4. To say \" Ave Maria\" every time \nwe enter the community. \n\n5. Before entering any room, to give \nthree knocks on the door, accompanied by \nsome religious ejaculation, and wait until \nthey are answered by three from within. \n\n6. Not to lift our eyes while walking in \nthe passage ways ; also, never to touch \neach other's hands. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 77 \n\n7. To stand while spoken to by the \nBishop or Superior, and kneel while \nspeaking to them; to speak in a particu- \nlar tone. \n\n8. If necessary to speak to the Supe- \nrior during a time of silence, approach \nher kneeling, and speak in whispers. \n\n9. Never to leave a room without per- \nmission, giving at the same time our rea- \nsons. \n\n10. To rise and say the \" Hour\" * \nevery time the clock strikes, except when \nthe Bishop is present, who, if he wishes, \nmakes the signal. \n\n\n• \" The Hour. — O sacred heart of Jesus ! always united to the \nwill of thy Father, grant that ours may be sweetly united in thine. \nHeart of Mary ! an asylum in the land of our captivity, procure \nfor us the happy liberty of the children of Jesus. May the souls \nof the faithful departed, through the merits of Christ and mercies \nof God, rest in peace. Amen.\" \n\nThe above is what is called an Hour ; there is a different, \nthough similar one, for each of the twenty-four hours in the day. \nThey are written and placed in two gilt frames, over the mantle- \npiece ; twelve over the heart of IVIary in one, and twelve over the \nheart of Jesus in the other. Every time the clock strikes, the •:\" tny T > \n'lancn. The •f~-iii_i.r ;«ri. ioc the \n\n\ncoir, \n\ni_i£s 15 I oei.>r;r ~ -i.':'^' \"ij.*i_ nine ii r'-rrj- \n\n»'*•?. A •« TP\"^ '>5\"':-?\":r i~i\"i^l t^:\":, U^IP; ^S'!I~e*\".\"^ \n\n\n- or:e\\:3. -rx: n-:cr._jLi leui^1 -:- -^ \n\n\n»n^g;-:-.j \n\n\n:1'T_-L Lf \n\n\n„,- \n\n\n82 SIX MONTHS \n\nknowledge that we have been guilty of \nbreaking the rules of our Holy Order, by \nlifting our eyes while walking in the pas- \nsage-ways; in neglecting to take holy \nwater on entering the community and \nchoir ; failing in respect to our Superior, \nand veneration to our Father ; failing in \nreligious decorum, and in respect to our \nvows, — poverty and obedience ; for which \nwe most humbly ask pardon of God, \npenance and forgiveness of you, our Holy \nMother.\" As each one finishes, the \"Holy \nMother\" gives her advice and penances, \nand her blessing ; they then kiss her feet, \nand sometimes make the cross with their \ntongues on the floor ; then making their \ninclination, they retire to the choir to per- \nform the penances. \n\nAfter they are all assembled in the \nchoir, the Superior says, Kyrie eleison, \nend they all answer, Kyrie eleison ; the \nSupetior says, Cliriste eltison, and they \nanswer, Christe cleison, &c. &c. She then \nsays Litany to the Saints in Latin, be- \nginning with \" Sancta Maria,\" and they \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 83 \n\nrespond, \" Ora pro nobis,\" &c. &c. This \nceremony is very solemn. It is performed \nuntil eight o'clock, A. M., when we re- \nceive our portion, sitting on the floor. The \nbell rings at half-past eight for young \nladies' recreation. Then we attend to \nstudy until a quarter before eleven ; then \nprivate lecture until eleven; then bell rings \nfor the examination of conscience till a \nquarter past eleven; then for diet. The \nservices at diet* are, after repeating \n\n• Our diet consiste.1 of the plainest kind of food, principally \nvegetables and vegetable soups, Indian puddings, and, very sel- \ndom, meat. Our tei was made of herbs, sometimes of the bitter- \nest kind. We partook of this diet in imitation of the Holy \nFathers of the Desert, to mortify our appetites. Pumpkins, \nstewed with molasses and water, served us sometimes as a dessert. \nOccasionally we had mouldy bread to eat. A very insignificant \npiece of butter was sometimes placed on our plates. The Supe- \nrior's diet was far better than ours ; sometimes it was sumptuous, \nwine not excepted. I ascertained this, as 1 occasionally, in turn, \nwent round to gather the fragments. She sent me. on two occa- \nsions, some apple parings to eat. as a part of my portion. Some- \ntimes the Religieu.se deny themselves any diet; prostrate, kisstha \nfuel of those who remain at table, performing various kinds of \npenance, while the others are eating anil lisr-iiing to the reading. \nThose who have permission to deny themselves in the mcming, \ntake their work-baskets as they pass to the refectory ; where they \nsew by candle-light, as the lecturess is reading. This has a so- \nlemn and impressive appearance. \n\n\n84 SJXMONTHS \n\nLatin : — first, they seat themselves in or- \nder upon a bench, first crossing themselves \nin their appointed places, on one side of a \nlong, narrow table ; before each one lies a \nsmall linen napkin or servet, rolled around \nanother small cloth, containing a knife and \nfork ; beside each servet is a plate contain- \ning the \"portion;\" then the Superior enters \nand passes along to her table, at the \nhead of the room, the Nuns making their \ninclinations as she passes. She then makes \na signal on her snuff box, and the \" Reli- \ngieuse,\" whose turn it is to speak, says, \n\" Benedicite ;\" the Superior answers, U13e- \nnedicite;\" and so it continues, in a similar \nmanner, from one to the other, the \" Effi- \ncient\"* repeating a Latin prayer. The Su- \nperior then makes the signal for the lectu- \nress to read from the Lives of the Saints \nand Martyrs, while the others are eating. \nWhen the signal is given, each one rolls \nup the knife and fork in the napkin, and \n\n• The Efficient is one who repeats prayers and officiates during \nthe office and serves at Mass. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 85 \n\nlays it as she found it ; (they also open it \nat a signal;) and the one whose turn it is \nto do so, after kissing the floor, as a token \nof humility, takes from the drawer a white \napron and a basket containing a napkin, \nand after putting on the apron, brushes the \nfragments from the tables into the basket, \nand takes the servets, making her inclina- \ntion to each one. She then takes the \narticles off the Superior's table, one by \none in a napkin, in a solemn manner. If \nany eatables fall on the floor, they must \nbe taken up in a napkin, and not by any \nmeans with the bare hands. \n\nAfter this, the Superior makes a signal, \nand the lecturess and before-mentioned \nRelig'wuse kneel in the middle of the floor \nand kiss it, and immediately rise and join \nthe others in repeating the Latin prayers ; \nafter which the lecturess rings the An- \ngelus. During this ringing, they all kneel \nand repeat it. then assemble in the com- \nmunity for \" recreation.\" During this \nthey are permitted to converse with one \n\n\n86 SIXMONTHS \n\nanother, but in a particular and low tone, \nand only on such subjects as the Superior \nshall give them ; if she be absent, the \nconversation is usually on the subject last \nread at the table ; and they work during \nthe time. After recreation, public* lec- \ntures take place, and at one o'clock the \nbell rings for \" visitation\" to the altar, \nwhich, with the Vespers, occupy us an \nhour and a half. Then the Rosary is said. \nOn hearing the bell again, we all assem- \nble in the community, where there is a \n\"point of prayer'' read. Then lessons \noccupy us until five ; meditation and re- \nflection half an hour longer; then the \nbell again rings for diet, where we go \nthrough the observances before named; \nthen recreation forty-five minutes ; then \nthe miserere, during which the bell rings ; \nthen public prayers in the choir ; then the \nBcnedictus rings, and the Lay Sisterst \n\n• Public lecture means a subject read aloud by the lecturess. \n\nt One Lay Sister remains kneeling in the entry until we get to \nthe psalm called Te Deum, when she rings while we are say'ne it \nThe Religieuse bow ot kneel, &c., but do not join in saying tua \noffice. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 87 \n\ncome up into the choir. Matins, lauds, \nand prayers continue from seven until \nnine o'clock, when we retire while the \nbell is ringing, except those who attend \nlessons and penances. This concludes a \nday and its services. The same course \nwas pursued everyday except Fridays and \nSundays, when there was some variation. \nI had become, in about a week, appa- \nrently so great a favorite of the Superior, \nthat although remiss in duties, it was in \na measure overlooked. She would even \nreprimand the Religieuse for my example \nand my faults ; one instance of which 1 \nwill give. Failing to arrange the Superi- \nor's toilet and seat and cricket, it being \nmy turn, one of the Religieuse was repri- \nmanded in my stead, and immediately \nknelt and kissed the floor. After this I was \nsent for to the Bishop's room, where the \nyoung ladies assemble on Mass morning, \nand after kneeling, &c., the Superior asked \nme how things appeared; if they ap- \npeared as I thought they would ; if I liked \n\n\n88 SIX MONTHS \n\nmy food, &c. Feeling a repugnance to \nanswer her, she said, \"Recollect yourself.\" \nI told her I Jiked all pretty well, except \nmy couch. She left, telling me to beg the \nintercession of Saint Teresa. The next \nday my couch was exchanged for a better, \nand the image of Saint Teresa put near \nit, for my use. \n\nSoon after I became an inmate of the \nConvent, the Bishop came into the com- \nmunity, and said, \" How does that little \nNun ? And what have you done with \nSister Stimson ?\" The Superior answered, \nthat she was not fit for the order, and she \nhad sent her on to the Sisters of Charity. \n(See note on page 74.) He then, address- \ning me, asked how I liked Mount Bene- \ndict. I said, \" Very well, my Lord.\" He \nthen said, \" O, but you will have to strive \nwith the temptations between the good \nand evil spirits;\" and he then explained \nall the horrors of Satan ; and n sked me \nwhere Saint Teresa, my namesake, was ; \nand if I had read her life ; and told me to \n\n\nSNA CONVENT. 89 \n\nsay, as she did, these words, \" Now come, \nall of you; I, being a true servant of God, \nwill see what you can do against me,\" \nby way of challenge to the evil ones ; and \nbeg her intercession. He told me my \nsister had been to see if I had taken the \nveil, or had any thought of taking it ; and \nhe said I might rest contented, as my \nfriends would trouble me no more.*1 He \nthen told me the difference between a holy \nlife and a worldly life; said the Devil \nwould assail me. as he did Saint Teresa, \nand make me think I ought to go back to \nthe world ; and make me offers of worldly \npleasures, and promise me happiness. In \norder to prevent this. I must watch and \npray all the lime, and banish entirely \n•worldly thoughts from my mind; and \nthrow holy water at the evil spirits, and \nchallenge them to come if they dare. \nPerceiving the unpleasant effect this had \n\n• I have since \"learned it was my sister and another lady. They \nsay he ;«ld then-, I had not taken the veil, hut hoped I soon wouli* \ndoit. \n\n\n90 SIX MONTHS \n\non my feelings, he portrayed in lively \ncolors the happiness which would flow \nfrom my resisting the evil spirits, and what \na crown of glory would be placed on my \nhead by the angels. \n\nAccording to my Confessor's orders, I \ntook upon myself many austere penances, \n&c. ; but the Superior, noticing my ex- \nhaustion from this cause, released me from \nthe austerities for a time, saying I was a \nfavored one ; and she gave rne permission \nto rest, while the others rose to say \nmidnight matins* and hear Mass. On \nthe exaltation of the holy cross, the Bishop \ngave us his blessing, we all kneeling in \nthe community. Tn conversation with \nthe Sisters, he remarked one had not a \nvery pleasant countenance; and he asked \nme how I was pleased with my teacher, \nsaying he hoped she put a more pleasant \ncountenance on while instructing me. \n\n\n• Midnight mass and midnight matins are said at night during \nLent, and midnight mass always on Christmas. This is a time of \n•awia) burnUtatkn- in.' pra.t«i. \n\n\nIN A CON V E N T. 91 \n\nOnce, while walking with the Bishop \nand Superior, we met a stranger, upon \nwhich the Superior required us to turn \nour backs while she conversed with \nhim. After he left the garden, the Bishop \nand Superior held some conversation to- \ngether apart from us, of which I overheard \nthe following words of the Bishop : \" I \nfear he did not come here accidentally, as \nhe stated, but for some particular purpose.\" \nImmediately the Mother Assistant came \nto me, saying that gentleman looked \nvery much like me, and asked me if he \nwas not my brother ; and having per- \nmission to look, I answered, \" No, he is \nnot.\" We then retired within the Convent. \nThe Bishop observed to me just before we \n•went in, that that gentleman looked no \nmore like me than one of the dogs of the \nConvent. \n\nI was particularly hurt in witnessing \nthe austerities put on a Religieuse, named \nSister Mary Magdalene, who came from \nIreland, Once, while reciting the office, \n\n\n92 SIX MONTHS \n\nshe, by accicbnt or losing breath, spoke in \na lower key than she should ; at a signal \nfrom the Superior, she fell prostrate before \nher desk, and remained so for one hour, \nuntil the office was finished, when she \nhad permission to rise. This was the \nfirst time I thought the Superior had done \nwrong.* Soon after this, in private con- \nfession to the Superior, she appeared de- \ntermined to know my thoughts, and put \nmany questions to me that were hard to \nanswer. I would here remark, that this \nis the practice at auricular confessions. \nShe told me to beg the intercession of my \npatron Saint, of the Blessed Virgin, and \nSaint Ursula. I complained to her of \nmy strength's failing, and of my diet, not \nbeing such as I was used to ; she replied, \nthat a Religieuse should have no choice, \nand that I should have left my feelings \nin the world ; and she immediately \n\n« The Superior often made mistakes in repeating the office, by \nendeavoring to repeat it without the book. And I learned after- \nwards from Mary Francis that the Superior did not understand it. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 93 \n\nimposed the following penances: — to \nmake the sign of the cross on the floor \nwith my tongue, and to eat a crust of \nbread in the morning for my portion. \nThe first of these penances I did not fulfil \nto the letter, making the sign of the cross \nwith my hand instead of my tongue.* \n\nAfter this a daughter of my friend Mrs. \nG. came to the Convent, and was permitted \nto spend some time with me in private. \nI also had some trifles given me as \npresents for this little girl, and leave to \nsend what word I wished to my friends. \nThis girl told me at the time, she was \ncoming there to school soon ; I therefore \nsent by her my love to my friends, in- \nforming them that I liked the Convent \nvery well, and should be very happy to \nsee them, if they would not speak against \nmy religion.f \n\n• I would state to the reader, that those things were received on \nmy part with great repugnance; hut the Superior said tl ey were \nto prove my vocation, and I submitted without a inunrur. \n\nt This message my friends never received, as I have since \nlearned. I was deceived in regard to the friendship of Mrs. G. \n\n\n94 SIXMONTHS \n\nSoon preparations were made for my tak- \ning the VOIDS of a Religieuse, a Novena \n(nine days' devotion) being said for me, \nand for my perfection in a religious life, and \nprayers for the conversion of my friends. \nAbout this time my sponsor, the Priest, \nvisited the Convent, and talked, as I then \nthought, like a godlike person. My recep- \ntion was to take place privately, because \nwe wished to keep my father ignorant of \nthe manner in which I had been received; \nand because he might hear of it, should il \ntake place publicly ; as he had before said, \nI was not eighteen, and ho could prevent \nmy going there. They said he could not \nprevent me, as I was now of age. I was \nperfectly happy at this time, and presented \nthe Superior with some lines of poetry, \nwhich gave her proof of my sincerity and \ncontentment. \n\nSI 10 appeared very much pleased with \nthe verses, embraced me very affectionate- \nly, and expressed her hearty approbation \nof my perseverance in performing the \n\n\nINACONVENT. 95 \n\nduties of the order, and said the request \nfor her entreaties that I might persevere in \na religious life should be granted, and she \nwould show the lines to the Bishop. She \naccordingly did so, when he was present \none day, and he said he must write my \nconversion, for it was so much like Saint \nTeresa's, my namesake. After this she \ngave orders to have all my worldly dresses, \nbeing ten in number, and other articles of \nwearing apparel, altered for those young \nladies whom she clothed and educated ; \nand for me she ordered a long habit to be \nprepared, which vvas to be blessed by the \nBishop : also a veil, which they said de- \nnoted purity and innocence. \n\nOne time I failed in rising at the Ange- \nlus.* which was not noticed by the Su- \nperior. The next morning a Religieuse \ndid not rise until the ringing of the Ange- \nlas, and when she came into the refectory \n\n• My time was to rise at the Angelas, which was tuns at five, \nwhile the Religieuse rose at four, except on holy-day mornings, \nwhen tftey rose at, tUroe. \n\n\n96 SIX M ONTH S \n\nwe were at diet. She brought her pillow, \nand kneeling, kissed it, and said as \nfollows : — \" I have neglected to obey the \ncommands of the Superior, and have not \nrisen until the An gems, which I am most \nheartily sorry for; and I humbly ask \npardon of God and penances of you, our \nHoly Mother.\" The Superior said no \none who disobeyed her commands should \nbe permitted to remain in this Monastery. \nHer penance was to kiss the floor and re- \nmain kneeling until lecture and diet were \nover. \n\nThe Bishop, about this time, came to \nexamine our work. &c. After hearing us \nsing, he complimented us. said he should \nhardly have thought that I could have \nlearned of heretics to sing and work so \nwell ; and desired me to learn him to \nwork lace, as he feared I should not \nfinish his robe for Christmas. After being \npresented, as usual, with wine, he retired, \nThe Bishop's wine is nresented in a \ngolden cup. The Rehgieuse wu.o pre- \n\n\nIN A CON VENT. 97 \n\nscnts it remains kneeling until he has \ndrank it. \n\nAs was usual on Saturday evening, after \nsignifying our obedience to the Superior, \nby prostrating and kissing the floor, we \nreceived permission to visit the \" sanctum \nsanctorum\" on Sabbath morning, to re- \nceive the eucharist, all of us except my \nteacher, (the one who the Bishop said did \nnot look pleasant, and whom I saw in \ntears on Sunday morning.) The Superior \nmade a signal for me to follow her into \nthe Bishop's room, when, first inquiring \ninto my feelings, as she usually did, she \nasked me what I thought of my teacher ; \nif she had put any questions to me while \nat my lessons ; and how long before I \nthought I should be able to pronounce my \nvows, and take charge of a class in music. \nShe asked me, at another time, what I \nthought was the reason of my teacher's \ncrying; (her name was Miss Mary \nFrancis.) I replied I did not know. She \nsaid it was the operation of the Holy \n\n\n98 SIX MONTHS \n\nSpirit, and her devotional feelings were \nvery deep. \n\nThe next day, while we were at our \nrecreations, Miss Mary Francis appeared \nin great distress from some cause, and in \ntears. She soon after pencilled a few \nlines, and approached the Superior kneel- \ning, &c., and presenting the paper ; she \nappeared confused and very angry, and \nbade her take a seat. After this the Su- \nperior thought it necessary for me to re- \ntire to the infirmary and take an emetic, \nwhich I did the next day. The day after \nthis I had orders to take medicine, which \nI was averse to, and on my declining, the \ninfirmarian* made the sign of the cross a \nnumber of times, and told me it was the \nSuperior's orders, and I could not avoid \ntaking a part of it. I remained in the \ninfirmary two days without a fire, and \nthe weather was very cold. I had then \n\n• The infirmarian is one who tends upon the sick. I wa» as \n•well as usual when I took the emetic. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 99 \n\npermission to go to the choir, where I \nimmediately fainted, at which the Supe- \nrior was angry, and said in a whisper \nshe had told me / ought not to have any \nfeelings. \n\nFor a while Sister Mary Francis was \nnot present at the office and recreative \nas usual, and the Superior gave as a rea- \nson for her absence that she was ill. But \nit will be necessary for me to leave for a \nmoment Miss Mary Francis, and speak of \nMiss Mary Magdalene. The latter was \nput over me as a teacher in the room of \nMary Francis, vvhom I then supposed to \nbe sick ; but I afterwards learned that she \nwas confined, that she might have a better \nopportunity to clear herself of the temp- \ntations of Satan. Sister Mary Magda- \nlene told me she was about to leave this \nworld, and wished to give me some advice. \nShe said she thought it was God's will to \ntake her to himself. After reminding me \nof the respect due to the Superior, and of \nmy negligence in not kissing the floor in \n\n\n100 SIX MONTHS \n\nthe choir, and of my looking up while \nwalking in the passages, she then spake \nof Sister Mary Francis ; said she would \nsoon be able to give me lessons as before ; \nbut wished to know which of the Novices \nI thought had the best vocation for a re- \nligious life, and which one would be most \nlikely to return to the world. To the lat- \nter I replied, \"Sister Mary Francis.\" She \nasked why. I said she did not appear to \nobserve the rules so strictly as the others. \nShe asked me if that would be any \ninducement for me. I replied, \" No, not \nthat.\" She appeared unable to talk, but \nnotwithstanding her weak state and \ntrembling hands, she sewed all the time. \nI told her it gave me pain to see her \ndistress herself so. With a peculiar \nemphasis she said, \" Sister, obedience /\" \nand in a very affecting manner made the \nsign of the cross. \n\nWhile at my lessons one day, in the \nhours of silence, the Superior and \nMother Assistant came, wishing me to tell \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 101 \n\nthem where Miss Mary Francis was. I \nreplied I had not seen her. They left the \nroom, and soon Miss Mary Francis enter- \ned, in tears. The Superior followed, and \nseizing her by the arm, shook her violently, \nthreatening to punish her for disobedience, \nand wished she had a cell austere enough \nto put her in, and exclaimed, \" Shame ! \nshame ! you ' disedify' Miss Mary \nAgnes.\"* She then told her not to feign \nsickness again, but to show by her appe- \ntite her illness. After the penance of \nkissing the floor, &c, she gave her a \nnumber of prayers to copy for the Pro- \ntestant scholars. And from that time we \nwere watched with the strictest scrutiny. \nThe next day the Superior gave me per- \nmission to write to my father. She said \nMiss Mary Francis was crazy, and she \nshould not keep her in the Convent more \nthan a month longer, if she did not reform. \n\n• All the Nuns have the name of Mary, and added to it is the \noame of some canonized Saint. Miss Mary Agues was :ny name. \n\n\n102 SIX MONTHS \n\nMary Francis' grief will be well re- \ncollected by those in the public apart- \nments. The next day I wrote to my \nfather. The letter1* was corrected by Miss \nMary Francis, who was not crazed, as \nstated by the Superior. I then whispered \nto her, (it being the time of silence,) and \nasked the cause of her grief. She wrote \non a slate, \" she could not.\" A Reli- \ngieuse was in the room, watching us very \nnarrowly, and to mislead the Religieuse, \nshe reminded me of making false syntax. \nWe next met in the community for recrea- \ntion. The Superior gave the Mother \nAssistant permission to speak ; (Miss \nMary Francis was absent.) She' began \nby asking how she did. The Superior \nanswered, \" She goes on in her old way ;\" \nand observed that she was unfit for the \norder. The Mother Assistant said, \"O, \nMamere, let me pray, at least, a month \nlonger for her;\" and turning to tiic No- \n\n• This letter was never received by my father. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 103 \n\nvices, asked them to join with her. The \nSuperior granted her permission, but \nhanded her a letter to read. The Mother \nAssistant, turning to us. said, \" Sisters, \npay attention. This letter is from Miss \nMary Francis' aunt, Miss I., of New \nYork.\" The substance of it was, that \nshe had received her (the Superior's) letter, \nand was sorry to have recommended to \nher that person, but she thought she had \nreformed, and would be a suitable member \nfor a Monastery ; and she begged pardon \nfor introducing one to her who had dis- \nturbed the peace of her little Community, \nand hoped if it were possible she would \nnot long be troubled with her, &c. The \nSuperior said, after the close of the letter, \n\"Sisters, you may still continue to pray for \nher, and 1 will see about this thing, as it \nmay be a temptation of the adversary.\" \nTwo or three days after this, I met Miss \nMary Francis at my lessons in the com- \nmunity, and again asked her to tell me \nher distress by writing on the slate or I \n\n\n104 SIX MONTHS \n\nwould tell the Superior I could not learn \nof her. She begged I would not, and told \nme she was under a solemn obligation not \nto make known the cause of her grief. \nShe asked me if I was happy ; I told her 1 \nwas not to see her unhappy, and again \nentreated her to tell me the cause of her \ntears. She said I must not tempt her to \nbreak her promise, for if we were detected \nin conversation, she would be made still \nmore unhappy. I then asked, if she had \nrecovered from her illness, why she did \nnot go to her class, &c. Shesaid the Supe- \nrior had forbidden her, but she could not \nanswer any other questions. I had formed \na strong attachment for this lady, and it \ngave me pain to see her so distressed. \n\nAt next recreation, the Superior sent \nus word to meet the Bishop in the medi- \ntation garden. Sister Mary Magdalene \nbeing too exhausted to walk as fast as we \ndid, the Bishop asked who that was, and \nbeing told, he burst into a laugh, and snid, \n\" Sister Magdalene, when are you goinp \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 105 \n\nto heaven?\" She replied, in a voice \nscarcely audible, \"I have no will of my \nown, my Lord ; whenever it shall please \nGod to take me.\"* She thought she \nshould not live to see Christmas. We \nthen assembled in the community, and \nwhen all were seated, the Bishop inquired, \n\"Where is that sober-faced Nun?\" Being \ntold by the Mother Assistant that she was \ngiving lessons to Miss F., he took the \nletter before spoken of, and looking it \nover, handed it to the Mother Assistant, \nsaying, \" Why do you keep her, and why \ndoes she not go to her class?\" The Su- \nperior said the young ladies were not \npleased with her as a^eacher. He asked if \nall disliked her. Miss Mary Benedict re- \nplied, '• No, my Lord ; some in the French \nclass appear to like her;\" on which he \nsaid, \"Show them that letter.\" \n\nAt my next lesson, I told Mary Francis \n\n• It is here to be understood, that Sister Mary Magdalene was \nin a consumption, and had entered the Convent nine months be- \nfore in perfect health. She was worn out with austerities. \n\n\n106 SIX MONTHS \n\nif she did not explain to. me the causj \nof her grief I should certainly tell the \nSuperior; for I could receive no benefit \nfrom her instructions while she was so con- \nfused, and the Superior had reprimanded \nme for not learning my lessons ; and I \npromised if she would tell me I would \nnot inform the Superior. She replied that \nshe could not answer me then, but would \nthink of it, and give me an answer in the \nafternoon. Accordingly, in the afternoon, \na Religieuse being present, watching us. \nshe communicated what I desired to \nknow by writing on a slate,* and desired \nto know if I was happy. I answered \nthat I did not like the Superior so well \nas formerly. She then wrote, that while \nat prayer and meditation she concluded \nit was her uiny, particularly as I was \ndissatisfied, to give me some advice, and \nconsidered her promise before made as \nnot binding; and receiving from me a \n\n• We were at the piano ; sha pretended to write notes, &c. \n\n\nINACONVENT. 107 \n\npromise oi secrecy, she proceeded to say \nthat she hoped she should be pardoned if \nany thing wrong was said by her, as my \nwhole happiness depended on the words \nshe should communicate. \"lam,\" says \nshe, \" kept here by the Superior, through \nselfish motives, as a teacher, under a slav- \nish fear and against my will. I have \nwritten several letters to my father, and \nhave received no satisfactory answer ; and \nI have for a long time felt dissatisfied \nwith my situation. The Superior has fail- \ned in fulfilling her promise, not complying \nwith the conditions on which I was re- \nceived ; which were, that as she was in \nneed of a teacher, particularly in French \n?nd music, 1 might take the white veil, \n.411(1 leave whenever I chose ; and my \ntaking the veil, \" as it was only a custom,\" \nshould not compel me ; and that my obli- \ngations should not be binding. My father \nthinks I can leave at any time, for I do \nnot believe he has received my letters, \nand that letter you have heard read as \n\n\n108 SIX MONTHS \n\nMiss I.'s is a forged one.\" We were here \ninterrupted by the entrance of the Superior, \nwho made a sign for me to follow her into \nthe Bishop's room. After asking me how I \nprogressed in my lessons, and hearing me \nread in the \" Novices' Directory,\"* she ob- \nserved that I looked melancholy, and com- \nmanded me to tell her the reason. I re- \nplied that I did not feel well, that my lungs \nwere sore since taking the emetic, f &c. \nShe said that was only a notion, and bade \nme tell the true reason without any more \nequivocation. My words were, I did not \nlove her so well then as formerly. She ex- \nclaimed, \" O, my child, I admire you for \n\n• This is a book which is used only in Convents. It directs us to \nrespect the Bishop as a representative of the person of Christ, and \nin confession as Christ himself ; and the Superior as fulfilling the \noffice of Mother of God. \n\nt My lungs were also very sore in consequence of repeating the \noffices ; so much so, that when present at recreation, when I had \npermission to speak, it gave me pain rather than pleasure. I \nhave, since leaving the Convent, consulted several physicians, who \nhave expressed it as their opinion, that the cause of my bleeding \nat the lungs, which frequently occurs, was originally the repeating \nthe office and other services, in one long, drawling tune, which \nany one can know by trying to be very difficult \n\n\nINA CONVENT. 109 \n\nyour simplicity ;;' and asked me my rea- \nson for not loving her. which I declined \ngiving. She commanded \" obedience\" \nwith seeming mildness, and I told her that \nI thought she did not pay that attention \nto me she had promised, and that she was \nnot so kind as formerly. She then said a \nIleligieuse should have no will of her \nown ; that their Superior put many things \nupon them, in order to try their vocation. \nShe then recounted the sufferings of a \ncertain Saint, and hid me pray to that \nSaint for protection ; and showed me a \nphial, which she said contained some of \nSaint .Teresa's tears ; and said if I would \nsave, my tears while in devotion, she \ncould tell by them whether 1 should ever \narrive to the perfection of a Saint. She \nthen gave me her blessing, and reminded \nme of my reception, which was soon to \nlake place. \n\nAt my lesson in the afternoon I again \nconversed with Mary Francis concern- \ning the letter, and requested her to inform \n\n\n110 SIX MONTHS \n\nme how my happiness was concerned. \nShe said still that the letter read to the \nCommunity was a forged one ; that Mrs. \n1. was her aunt and sincere friend; and \ndid her father know her sufferings, and \nthe treatment she received from the Su- \nperior, he would prosecute her ; that she \nfeared the Superior as she did a serpent. \nShe then advised me not to bind myself, \nafter my three months' \" test or trial,\"* \nto that order, by complying with the rules \nof \"reception,\" any farther than would \nleave me at liberty to go to another if 1 \nchose; and I must not think, because \nthey were wicked, that the inmates of all \nConvents were so. I assured her thai \nalthough I had thought there were none \ngood but Catholics. I now believed there \nwere good and bad among all sects. She \nthen requested me not to betray her, and \ntold me the Superior intended to keep me \n\n• When persons first enter the Convent, they take an obliga \ntion that they will spend the remainder of their days as a Re \ncluse, but they are put on a three months' \" test\" or trial, to see if \nthey have a \" vocation\" for that particular order ; if not, they are \ngenerally placed in another. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. Ill \n\nthere for life, and she thought it her duty \nto warn me of the snares laid for me. She \ndisliked that order,* and wished me to in- \nform her why, and in what manner I had \ncome there. I related to her then, and \nduring the next afternoon, all the particu- \nlars. She appeared very much surprised \nto learn that my friends had been opposed \nto my coming, as the Superior had told \nher that they had put me there for life. \nShe said she had been taken from the pub- \nlic apartment, because she had been seen \nweeping by the young ladies ; that should \nthe Superior refuse to let her go, she \nshould if possible make her escape ; and \nnamed a Religieuse (Miss Mary Angela) \nwho had made her escape before. She \ndesired me, if she should be so fortunate \nas to make her escape, to ask, in private \nconfession, permission to see my friends, \n\n• Miss Mary Francis was educated, I believe, in the Convent of \nSaint Joseph, Eminetsburg ; also known as the order of the \" Sisters \nof Charity.\" She possessed an amiable disposition and superior \ntalents, and was universally admired by the inmates of the \ngcho«l ; and so far as my acquaintance went, she was deserving \nIhe esteem of every »ne. \n\n\n112 SIX MONTHS \n\nand consult them about going to the \n\"Sisters of Charity;\" and if they were \nwilling that I should go, she would pro- \ncure me a situation, and by letter inform \nme of it. She was in great distress on \naccount of that letter, which plainly un- \nfolded the motives of the Superior. She \nsaid she should appear as calm as possi- \nble, as it was the only way to blind the \neyes of the Superior, and enable her to \nescape ; and requested me to give her all \nthe information respecting the Superior's \nintentions that I could learn, and to listen \nto her and the Mother Assistant's con- \nversation at recreation hours. \n\nAt recreation the Superior observed that \nMiss Mary Francis had no vocation for a \nreligious life, as she had refused to attend \nthe offices and prayers. At our next in- \nterview, I inquired of Mary Francis if \nshe had refused to attend prayers; she \nreplied no ; that the Superior had discover- \ned her intention to escape, and had \nforbidden her attending offices, commu- \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 113 \n\nnion, and confession, for exposing her \nfeelings before the Religieuse; and that the \nSuperior had imposed penance upon her, \nforbidding her to walk in the garden during \nrecreation; and that the presents given her \nby the young ladies had been, with the \nSuperior's permission, taken by some one \nfrom her desk. She remarked that we \nwere exhorted to love and pray for those \nwho spitefully use us, but she could not \nlove the Community generally, they exer- \ncised so much cruelty towards her ; that \nthe treatment she received was for no \nother reason than because she had given \nway to tears, which were a great relief to \nher ; she was happy, she said, to find one \n\\v\\\\o sympathized with her, and who \nwould not treat her with contempt, as the \nothers did. She said also that the Supe- \nrior had done wrong respecting her \napparel. \n\nI have now come to that part of m> \nnarrative in which I must again speak \nnf th- sufferings of Sister Magdalene. \n5* \n\n\n114 SIX MONTHS \n\nOne day she came from the refectory, \nand being so much exhausted as to be \nhardly able to ascend the stairs, I offered \nto assist her, and the Superior reprimand- \ned me for it, saying her weakness was \nfeigned, and that my pity was false pity. \nShe then said to Sister Magdalene, (after \nwe were seated,) in a tone of displeasure, \nif she did not make herself of use to the \n\" Community,\" she would send her back \nto Ireland ; on which Sister Mary Magda- \nlene rose and said, \" Mamere, I would \nlike — .\"* The Superior cut short what \nshe was going to say by stamping upon the \nfloor, and demanding who gave her per- \nmission to speak, imposed on her the pen- \nance of kissing the floor. The Superior af- \nter this imposed hardships which she was \nhardly able to sustain, frequently reminding \nher that she had but a short time to work \nout her salvation, and that she must do bet- \nter if she did not wish to surfer in purgatory. \n\n• This, and other like half-uttered expressions, convinced me \nhat sha wished to return to her friends. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 115 \n\nThe Superior questioned me about my \nfeelings ; wished to know why I looked \nso solemn. I told her I was ill from want \nof exercise, that I \\vas not accustomed to \ntheir mode of living, &c. She said I \nmust mention it to my Confessor, which \nI did. The next time the Bishop visited \nus, he was in unusually high spirits, and \nvery sociable ; and he related several sto- \nries, which are not worthy of notice in this \nplace. He again asked Sister Magdalene \nwhen she. thought of going to that happy \nplace, to receive her crown of glory. She \nreplied, \" Before the celebration of our di- \nvine Redeemer's birth, my Lord.\" He \nsaid she ought to be very thankful that \nshe was called so soon. \n\nI will here relate a conversation of the \nBishop with the Superior at recreation \nhour, respecting the Pope, &c. After \ntalking a while in French, he said he \nhad received a long letter from the Pope, in \nwhich his Holiness congratulated him for \n•his success in establishing the true religion. \n\n\n116 SIX MONTHS \n\nin the United States, and made him offers \nof money to advance the interest of the \nCatholic Church, and more firmly establish, \nit in America, &c. The Bishop then \nspoke of the Orthodox in Boston, and said \nDr. B. had got himself in a u hornets' \nnest,\" from which he could not extricate \nhimself. The Superior named a sermon \ndelivered in the North Church by an \nEpiscopalian, and said they must look \nout or they would get themselves into a \n\" hornets nest.\" The Bishop mentioned \nfr visit of Dr. O'F. at Dr. B.'s, and said \nDr. O'P. had scarcely an opportunity to \nsay a word, on account of the noise and \ncrying of the children which were in the \nroom, and with which Dr. B. was play- \ning ; said he appeared more engaged with \nthe children than with the subjects of re- \nligion, &c. &c. Bliss Mary John, the \nMother Assistant, exclaimed, \" Is it possi- \nble, my Lord, that a man of God is treated \nin cuch a way by heretics ?\" \" Yes,\" said \nthe Bishop, \"none but he that is unmarried \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 117 \n\ncare th for the things that belong to the \nLord, how he may please the Lord : but \nhe that is married careth for the things \nthat are of the world, how he may \nplease his wife.\" The Superior said \nDr. B. possessed very little sense, and \nhad a weak mind. The Bishop said that \nthe doctor by the course he had taken, had \nmade many converts to Catholicism; \n'•' And perhaps,\" said the Superior, '• he is \na wicked instrument in the hands of God \nto bring about good.\" \n\nAt another time, while walking on the \nConvent grounds, a cannon ball was \npicked up by one of the Religieuse, and \nthe Bishop taking it, observed, as he gave \nit to the Superior, \" Here is a British ball \nthat has killed many a Yankee;\" and he \nalso made several other similar observa- \ntions. At another time the Superior told \nthe Bishop that two ladies met near the \nConvent; the words she used were, <:Orie \nYankee met another, and said, ' Iguessyou \nare a going to independence.' ' I guess \nI be/ said the other.' They then laughed \n\n\n118 SIX MONTHS \n\nheartily about it, and gave us permission \nto hold our recreation upon it. The \nBishop remarked, the Yankees celebrated \nindependence day in honor of men, and \nappointed days of thanksgiving, instead \nof celebrating the birthday of the Re- \ndeemer, in honor of God, &c.^ \n\nWhen I was again summoned to the \nSuperior, she inquired as usual into the \nstate of my feelings; and when I said I \ndesired to see my friends, she replied, \n\" Why, my dear Agnes, do you wish to see \nworldly friends ? Who do you call your \nfriends 1 Am not I your friend 1 Is not \nthe Bishop your friend ? If your worldly \nfriends wished to see you, would they not \n\n• We all had permission at one time to walk with the Superior \nin the meditation garden. The Superior heard a noise behind the \nfence, and sent her servants to learn the cause ; they returned, in- \nforming her that two men were looking through the fence. The \nSuperior remarked, the Bish'ip had said there was great danger to \nbe apprehended from such persons ; that if Protestants were to \noffer any violence to them, the judgments of heaven would fall \nupon the wicked ; and God had founded tham upon a rock so \nfiim that it could not fall. The Supe^or gars orders to the porters \nnot to allow grangers to wa'k O7*f U«J groands without her or \nthe Bishop's permissit n. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 119 \n\ncome and see you ?\" I replied, \" Yes. \" A \nfew days after this, I was taken very ill, \nand went to the infirmary. Miss Mary \nFrancis, hearing of my illness, made an \nerrand to come to the infirmary for some \nthread to mend her apparel, and pretend- \ning not to find it, asked me where the Re- \nligieuse put it ; and desired to know if I \nhad any good news for her. I told her I \nhad not, but as we had permission to as- \nsemble for recreation in the afternoon, I \nwould, if I heard any, then inform her. \nAt that instant a Novice opened the door, \nand Miss Mary Francis excused heiself, \nby pretending that she was looking for the \nbasket of thread. We were not so strictly \nwatched for a few days as we had been, \nbut when Miss Mary Francis exposed her \nfeelings one day before Miss Mary Mag- \ndalene and myself, we were again closely \nwatched. 1 then asked the Superior's \npermission to write to my friends, and \ndesire them to come and see me, which \nshe granted ; and also told me to write \n\n\nSIX MONTHS \n\nwhatever I pleased. I prepared a letter \naccordingly to my sisters, stating that I \ndid not wish to return to the world, but \nwas anxious for a visit from them, &c. \n\nI began How to be much dissatisfied \nwith this Convent. My views of retire- \nment, however, were the same as ever, \nand I thought I would go to the order of \nthe Sisters of Charity, where Miss Mary \nFrancis was educated, as she had promised \nto introduce me there. She told me, that \nshould I be called to the public apartments, \n(as an assistant in ornamental work,) if \npossible, to slip a billet into Miss I.'s hand, \n(a scholar from New York,) who would \nconvey it to her ; and I must not open my \nmind to my confessor until I was sure \nshe had left the Community. I asked her \nif she would take a letter for me into the \nworld ; she replied, she dare not, as the \nSuperior would examine her, and not per- \nmit any thing to be carried from the \nConvent into the world. We then laid \nthe following plan, to mislead the Superi- \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 121 \n\nor in regard to our intentions. Miss Mary \nFrancis was to complain to the Superior \nthat I would not give proper attention \nwhen at my lessons, and I was to tell her \nthat I could not receive any benefit from \nMiss Mary Francis, on account of her \ngrief and absence of mind. This we \nfulfilled to the letter. We also agreed on \na signal, by which I should know whether \nshe was going with or without permission. \nIf she went without permission, she was \nto tie a string around an old book, as if to \nkeep the leaves together, and lay it upon \nthe writing desk ; if with permission, she \nwas to make the sign of the cross three \ntimes upon her lips. I had intimated my \ndesire to go with her. but she said it would \nbe more prudent for me to endeavor to \nobtain the Superior's permission to see \nsome of my friends, and I could then \nconsult with them, and arrange matters \nto suit me. After our conversation, she \nknelt at the altar of the Blessed Virgin, \nand begged God to forgive us if we acted \n\" 6 \n\n\n122 SIX MONTHS \n\nwrong in this matter; and said to me, \n\" May we not hope for pardon in this mat- \nter, if the Superior can be so wicked as to \napproach the holy of holies, and yet re- \nceive absolution?\" She then selected from \na book the letters forming her real name \nthat I might write to her, should I not get \nan opportunity to give a letter to Miss I. \nA Religieuse entered and whispered her to \ncome away, and I never saw her after- \nwards. \n\nWhen the Bishop next visited the \n\"Community,\" he said he understood that \nthey were rid of that person who had \ncaused them so much trouble. They all \nthen rejoiced, because Miss Mary Francis \nhad gone. The Bishop asked whither \nthey had sent her. They answered, \" To \nher friends.\" Nothing more at that time \nwas said about it. \n\nNot long after this, at private confession, \nI was questioned very particularly in re- \ngard to my views of remaining there fir \nlife. I told my confessor that I was con- \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 123 \n\nvincod that order was too austere for me, \nand immediately burst into tears. He \nendeavored to comfort me by saying I \nwas not bound to that order for life ; I \ncould go to another order. I asked him \nif I might see my friends. He answered, \n\" Yes.\" After receiving a promise from \nhim that I should go to any other order I \nchose, I consented to take the vows. He \ngave me to understand, that I need take no \nother vows there than I should at the Con- \nvent of the Sisters of Charity. My recep- \ntion took place the next day. I refused the \nwhite veil, because the Sisters of Charity \ndid not wear it, and it was omitted. The \nchoir was first darkened, and then lighted \nwith wax tapers. The ceremony com- \nmenced with chants, prayers, responses, \n&c. A book was placed in my hands, \nwhich contained the vows I was to take. \nA.S near as I can recollect, the following \n.is the substance of them : — \n\n\" O, almighty and everlasting God, per- \n\n\nJL24 SIX MONTHS \n\nmit me, a worm of the dust, to consecrate \nmyself more strictly to thee this day, in \npresence of thy most Holy Mother, and \nSaint Ursula, and all of thy Saints and \nMartyrs, by living two years a Recluse, \nand by instructing young ladies after the \nmanner of Saint Ursula, and by taking \nupon myself her most holy vows of pov- \nerty, chastity, and obedience, which, with \nthy grace and assistance, I will fulfil.\" \n\nThey all responded, '• Amen,\" and re- \npeated a long office in Latin. I still con- \ntinued to wear the black garb,* which the \nBishop blessed; also a long habit, and a \nstring of rosary beads, which were also \nblessed by the Bishop. He wished to know, \none day, how Miss Mary Agnes did, after \ntaking the white vows ; to which the Supe- \nrior replied, \" Very well.\" He then con- \nversed about the establishment in Boston, \nand said that some Sisters of Charity were \ncoming to constitute a Convent either \n\n• The apparel of a Relijjioiise is always kissad by tha wearer, \nevery time of putting on ami into:]? off. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 125 \n\nthere or at Mount Benedict lower esta- \nblishment.* \n\nMeanwhile Sister Mary Magdalene \nwas employed in the refectory. Accord- \ning to the Bishop she was a Saint, and he \nsaid there was a Saint's body in the tomb, \none of the late Sisters', which remained \nundccayed. I heard the Superior, about \nthis time, tell Miss Mary Magdalene to \nburn all her treasures,! or she would suf- \nfer in purgatory for her self-love ; and she \nwas afraid she did not suffer patiently, \nfor she appeared romantic. Mary Mag- \ndalene fell prostrate at the Superior's feet, \nand said she would fulfil any command \nthat should be laid upon her. The Supe- \nrior gave her a penance to kiss the feet of \nall the Religieuse, and asked them to say \nan Ave and a Pater for her ; after which \n\n• The Bishop in confession told ma 1 could, if I preferred it, be- \ntome one of these Sisters. \n\nt The treasures consisted of written prayers, books, papers, a \n'ockof her mother's hair, &c., which she brought from Ireland, \ntftd kept in her desk. \n\n\n126 SIX MONTHS \n\nshe lay prostrate in the refectory until \nthe Angelus rung. One communion \nmorning, as I rose and was dressing, I \ntook some water, as usual, to rinse my \nmouth, and all at once Mary Magdalene \nappeared greatly agitated, and even in \nagony ; made signs and crosses to signify \nthat I should commit a sacrilege were 1 \nthen to approach the communion ; and I \nthen recollected that nothing must be \ntaken into the mouth on the morning be- \nfore this sacrament. I relate this to show \nthe state of her mind. The Superior one \nday requested the Mother Assistant to get \nthe keys of the tomb, and to have a good \nplace prepared for Mary Magdalene, who \nforced a smile, saying she should prefer \nhers near the undecayed Saint's bed. \n\nAs time passed on, the Superior became \nmore severe in her treatment, because 1 \nobjected to pursue my music. My mind \nhad been in such an unhappy state, that \nI, for a long time, found it impossible to \nstudy ; and, further, I did not wish to re- \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 127 \n\nceive instruction, for I had determined not \nto stay there. I therefore succeeded in \nobtaining the Superior's permission to oc- \ncupy my time chiefly with the needle, \nand assured her that I would again study \nwhen I felt better. \n\nOn one of the holy days the Bishop \ncame in, and after playing upon his flute, \naddressed the Superior, styling her Made- \nmoiselle, and wished to know if Mary \nMagdalene wanted to go to her long home. \nThe Superior beckoned to her to come to \nthem, arid she approached on her knees. \nThe Bishop asked her if she felt prepared \nto die. She replied, \"Yes, my Lord ; but, \nwith the permission of our Mother, I have \none request to make. ' ' They told her to say \non. She said she wished to be anointed \nbefore death, if his Lordship thought her \nworthy of so great a favor. He sal^, \n\" Before I grant your request, I have one \nto make; that is, that you will implore \nthe Almighty to send down from heaven \na bushel of gold, for the purpose of \n\n\n128 SIX MONTHS \n\nestablishing a college for young men on \nBunker Hill. He said he had bought the \nland for that use, and that all the Sisters \nwho had died had promised to present \nhis request, but had not fulfilled their obli- \ngations ; \"and,\" says he, \"you must shake \nhands in heaven with, all the Sisters who \nhave gone, and be sure and ask them why \nthey have not fulfilled their promise, for \nI have waited long enough ; and continue \nto chant your office with us, while here \non earth, which is the sweet communion \nof Saints.\" After she had given her pledge \nand kissed his feet, he told the several \nmembers of the Community, to think of \nwhat they should like best. I was first \ncalled to make my request. I had never \nseen any thing of this kind before, and \nmy feelings were such as I cannot de- \nscribe, and continuing silent, the Superior \nbade me name it. I then said, I lacked \nhumility, and should wish for that virtue. \nThe Religieuse then made their requests : \none asked for grace to fulfil the vow of \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 129 \n\npoverty ; another, for obedience ; a third, \nmore fervent love for the Mother of God ; \na fourth, more devotion to her patron \nSaint ; a fifth, more devotion in approach- \ning the altar and host ; and so on. The \nSuperior ended it, by making the same re- \nquest as the Bishop, adding, the purpose \nintended was, that the gospel of our Lord \nand Savior might be more extensively \npropagated, and that all dissenters might \nbe made to turn to the true Church and \nbelieve. The conversation then turned \nupon the Pope, and the Bishop said the \nPope would, perhaps, before long, visit \nthis country ; and when things were more \nimproved, and his new church finished, \nhe should write to the Pope, &c. He \nwent into a relation of some parts of \necclesiastical history ; spoke of the Pope's \nbeing the vicegerent of Christ on earth ; \nand that although the wicked one pre- \nvailed now, it was designed for good, and \nthe time would come, when all would \nlook to the Pope as their spiritual dfrector \n\n\n130 SIX MONTHS \n\non earth. He thought that America right- \nfully belonged to the Pope, and that his \nHoliness would take up his residence here \nat some future day. \n\nNot long after this, Mary Magdalene \nwas anointed for death, and tcok her \nvows for life, but she continued to wear \nthe white veil. I thought it singular that \nMary Magdalene should at that time take \nher black vows, (as they called them,) be- \ncause (as I learned in the Community) \nshe had not been there a year ; and her \nwearing the white veil after taking them \nappeared still more singular. \n\nI will endeavor to give some idea of the \nmanner in which she took her vows, and \nof the anointing. After she had retired \nto her couch,* the Religieuse walked \nto the room in procession. Sister St \nClair held a wax taper blazing at her feet, \nand the Superior knelt at her head with \n\n• I learned that the usual custom was to place them in a black \ncoffin covered with a black pall when they were to take the black \nvotes ; but in this instance it was omitted. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 131 \n\nthe vows, which were copied on a half- \nsheet of paper. The Bishop then came \nin with both sacraments, all of us pros- \ntrating as he passed. After putting the \ntabernacle upon the little altar which had \nbeen placed there for that purpose, he \nread from a book a great many prayers, \nall of us responding. He asked her a \nnumber of questions about renouncing the \nworld, which she answered. The Supe- \nrior gave her the vows, and after pro- \nnouncing them, she was anointed ; Sister \nGlair laying bare her neck and feet, which \nthe Bishop crossed with holy oil, at the \nsame time repeating Latin. He then \ngave her the viaticum, and ended the \nceremony as he commenced, with saying \nMass, and passed out, we all prostrating. \nShe lived rather longer than was expect- \ned, but her penances were not remitted. \nShe would frequently kneel and prostrate \nall night long in the cold infirmary, say- \ning her rosary and other penances, one or \ntwo of which I will mention. She wore \n\n\n132 SIX MONTHS \n\nnext her heart a metallic plate, in imita- \ntation of a crown of thorns, from which I \nwas given to understand she suffered a \nsort of martyrdom. This I often saw her \nkiss and lay on the altar of the crucifix \nas she retired. Another penance was, \nthe reclining upon a mattress more like a \ntable than a bed. A day or two after this, \nthe Superior, Mother Assistant, and Mary \nBenedict, ridiculed the appearance of \nMary Magdalene, because of the dropsy, \nwhich prevented her appearing graceful, \nand because she was disappointed in not. \ngfting to heaven sooner. The Superior \ngave her some linen capes to make, and \nsaid, \" Do you think you shall stay with \nus long enough to do these, Sister?\" She \ntook them, and said, \" Yes, Mamere, J \nthank you.\"* Notwithstanding the Su- \nperior's severity, she sometimes appeared \naffectionate. One day I failed in ringing \nthe observances at the usual time. I met \n\n• She would often ask permission to take a little water, as she \nwas very thirsty ; ihe Superior always refused it ; but still the \nobedient Magdalene replied, \"Mamere, I thank you,\" \n\n\nINT A CONVENT. 133 \n\nthe Superior, and fearing she would pu- \nnish me, I burst into tears. She embraced \nme very affectionately, and wiped my \nface with a handkerchief, and said I \nshould not be punished that time. She \nonce told me I might sit at meditation \nhour, instead of kneeling, as it was very \ntiresome. She frequently called me her \nholy innocent, because she said I kept the \nrules of the order, and was persevering in \nmy vocation as a Recluse. She said I \nshould see my friend Mrs. G. before long, \nbut I did not see her while I was there. \n\nWhile in the Convent I asked once or \ntwice for a Bible, but never received any, \nand never saw one while there. The \nBishop often said that the laity were not \nqualitied to expound the Scriptures, and \nthat the successors of the apostles alone \nwere authorized to interpret them, &c. \n\nThe Bishop, in one of his visits, spoke \nparticularly of the cholera. He told us \nwe must watch and pray more fervently. \n\n\n134 SIX MONTHS \n\nor \" the old Scratch would snatch us off \nwith the cholera.\" It was recreation \nhour, but Mary Magdalene was at work \nin the refectory. When she came to the \ncommunity, she appeared like a person in \nspasms; she tried to say \" Ave Maria,\" \nand immediately fainted : we were all very \nmuch alarmed. At that moment the bell \ncalled us to the choir for visitation and \nvespers. When I retired, I felt much \nhurt to see Mary Magdalene in the cold \ninfirmary, but did not dare to express my \nfeelings. Next day, at recreation, the \nSuperior, Mother Assistant, and Mrs. \nMary Benedict, made a short visit to \nMary Magdalene, and on returning they \ntold us she was better, and in a spiritual \nsense well ; for she had refused taking her \nportion, or any thing eatable, as she did \nnot wish to nourish her body, because the \nwill of God had been made known to her \nin a vision. We all had the promise of \nconversing with her, but we were so con- \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 136 \n\nstantly employed in our various offices \nthat we had no leisure. \n\nThe next day, it being my turn to see \nthat all the vessels which contained holy \nwater were filled, &c., I had an opportu- \nnity of looking at Mary Magdalene. Her \neyes were partly open, and her face very \npurple ; she lay pretty still. I did not \ndare to speak to her, supposing she would \nthink it a duty to tell of it, as it would \nbe an infraction of the rules. The next \nnight I lay thinking of her, when I was \nsuddenly startled, hearing a rattling noise, \nas I thought, in her throat. Very soon \nSister Martha (the sick Lay Nun) arose, \nand coming to her, said, \" Jesus ! Mary ! \nJoseph ! receive her soul ;\" and rang the \nbell three*1 times. The spirit of the gen- \ntle Magdalene had departed. The Supe- \nrior came, bringing a lighted wax-taper, \nwhich she placed in the hand of the de- \nceased. She closed the eyes, and placed \n\n* TU« bell was struck three times to call the Superior, twice to \ncall the Mother Assistant, and once to call JMrs. Mary Benedi«t. \n\n\n136 SIX MONTHS \n\na crucifix on the breast. Sister Martha \nhad whispered us to rise, and the Supe- \nrior, observing my agitation, said, \" Be \ncalm, and join with us in prayer ; she is a \nhappy soul.\" I knelt accordingly, re- \npeating the litany, until the clock struck \ntwo, when we all assembled in the choir, \nin which was a fire and wax-tapers \nburning. After meditation, matins, lauds, \nand prayers, and a Novena (a particular \nsupplication) that our requests might be \ngranted, we assembled for diet, and for the \nfirst time we had some toasted bread. We \nalso had recreation granted in the time of \nsilence. The Superior sent for us, and \ninstructed us how to appear at the burial \nof our Sister Mary Magdalene, and ac- \ncompanied us to view her corpse. She \nwas laid out in the habit of a professed \nNun, in a black veil: her hands were .tied \ntogether, and her vows placed in them. \nThe Superior remarked, that this was \ndone by the Bishop's request. At the \nevening recreation the Bishop appeared in \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 137 \n\nhigh spirits, and rejoiced that so happy a \nsoul had at last arrived in heaven ; and \ncommenced the \" Dies illcc\" on the pi- \nano forte, accompanied by the voices of \nthe others. He told me I should have \nMiss Mary Magdalene for my intercessor, \nfor she was to he canonized. The Mother \nSuperior permitted me to embrace the \n•Sisters, and gave me the Mother Assistant \nfor my Mother. She then presented us \nwith the relics of Saints, that by their \npaeans we might gain indulgences. She \nmentioned a '''retreat\" as being necessary \nfor our perseverance in a religious life. \n\nThe second day after this, the coffin was \nplaced in the choir, and the funeral servi- \nces were performed in the following man- \nner : Dr. Or Flaherty sang the office, while \nilio Bishop chanted it. Father Taylor \nofficiated at the altar. Four or five of \nthe altar boys were present, and dressed \nin altar robes, etc. ; two of them held wax \ntapers, a third holy water, a fourth a \ncrucifix. One su'inig incense in the ccn- \nfi* \n\n\n138 SIX MONTHS \n\nser over the corpse, and another, at the \nsame time, sprinkled holy water upon it. \nWe performed our part by saying the \n\"Dies illae.\" The coffin* was then carried \nto the tomb by two Irishmen. The \nBishop, Priests, and others followed, sing- \ning, and carrying lighted tapers and a \nlarge crucifix. The corpse was also fol- \nlowed by some of the young ladies from \nthe public schools, while the Religieuse \nremained in the Convent. After deposit- \ning the coffin in the tomb, the clergy re- \ntired to dinner. We were permitted, at \nrecreation, to hear the clergy converse on \nvarious subjects. The Superior told us \nthat the customary libera and prayers for \nfaithful souls departed might be omitted, \nas the Bishop said Magdalene's soul had \ngone immediately to heaven. The No- \nvices were permitted to relate visions of \nguardian angels. &c. At the next evening \n\n• My feelings were much hurt to witness the manner in which \nthe lid of the coffin was forced down to its place. The corpse \nhad swollen mneh. and become too large for the coffin. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 139 \n\nrecreation the Bishop again visited us, \nand appeared in very good spirits, played \non his flute and sung. He soon went \naway, and the Superior said he only came \nto cheer up our spirits. \n\nHaving only a few minutes to stay at \nconfession, I had until this time kept the \nsecret of my friend Mary Francis ; but \nthe Bishop perceiving that I grew more \ndiscontented, endeavored to comfort me, \nby saying that I was not bound to that \norder ; but he wished to know more par- \nticularly my reasons for disliking it, and \nbegan to threaten me with judgments ; \nand observing my agitation, said he \nmust know what lay so heavily on my \nmind. lie asked me if it was any thing \nconnected with the sickness and death of \nMary Magdalene. I told him, ': No, not \nthat in particular ; I do not like the Su- \nperior.\" He said I must tell him instant- \nly all the wicked thoughts that had dis- \nturbed my mind, and asked me varim:s \n•improper questions, the meaning of vrhid' \n\n\n140 SIX MONTHS \n\nI did not then understand, and which I \ndecline mentioning. I was so confused \nthat I inadvertently spoke Mary Francis' \nname, and begged his pardon for listening \nto her : and lie immediately exclaimed, \n\"Ah! I know all; confess tome what \nshe told you, and do not dare to deceive \nme ; you cannot deceive God.\" I told hirr» \nnearly all that had passed between Mary \nFrancis and myself. He said that Mary \nFrancis was not a fit subject for any or- \nder, and they were obliged to send her \naway ; that she was deranged, and I had \ndone very wrong in listening to an insane \nperson. He said I could not go to the \norder she mentioned, and that I would be \nmore happy with the Sisters of Charity \nwho were coming to reside here. He \nsaid that worldlings hated me for the good \npart I had chosen, and would ridicule me \nshould I go back to the world, and then \nrepeated some scripture texts. I still per- \nsisted in saying it was my determination \nnot to remain in that order, and I told h'tn \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 141 \n\nI disliked the Superior ; and he gave me \na penance to perform. I was desirous at \nthat time to have them think me obedi- \nent, or I should not have condescended to \nsuch humiliations. My motive was pru- \ndence, not want of courage, for by this \ntime I had become disgusted with the \nlife I led, and their manner of pro- \nceeding. \n\nThe next time the Bishop was with us, \nlie requested me to sing any favorite tune \nI chose. I sang the \"Ode on Science,\" \nwhich, every one knows, is highly patri- \notic. At the close of the first stanza, he \nspoke a few words in French to the Su- \nperior, who made a signal for me to stop ; \nbut not understanding her, I continued, \nuntil she had made several signals, when \nI pcrcehied she was evidently displeased \nwith my singing, and then recalled the \nwords which I supposed were offensive. \n\nOne day the Superior asked me what it \nwas that lay so heavily on my mind, as \nthe Mother Assistant had previously \n\n\n142 SIX MONTHS \n\nfound me in tears while at our examina- \ntion of conscience. I excused myself by \nreplying I was thinking of my dear \nmother, (which, though true, was not the \ncause of my grief.) She then left me, \nbut not without distrust, the eyes of the \nCommunity being upon me. The next \ntime we met at recreation, one of them \nremarked she hoped there was not \nanother Judas among them. I endea- \nvored to betray no emotion, but they still \nmistrusted I had other views ; for while \nsitting at my diet in the refectory, I ob- \nserved my food was of a kind that I had \nnever seen before. It consisted of several \nballs of a darkish color, about the size of \na nutmeg, of a bitter astringent taste ; \nwhat they were I never knew. I ate \nthem as I did my other diet, ancLstrove to \nexhibit no fearful sensations. \n\nA few days after the death of Mary \nMagdalene, her desk was brought for- \nward, that the Superior might examine it, \nand distribute its contents to those she \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 143 \n\nconsidered the most worthy. She gave \nto each one some little relic, and to Miss \nMary Joseph, sister to Magdalene, some \nletters which she had composed to be \nread, as the Superior said, after her \ndeath. They were quite affecting, and \ncaused Mary Joseph to weep much, fbr \nwhich the Superior reprimanded her. \n\nSome days after this, the Superior sent \nfor me to practise music, and then made \na signal for me to follow her into the \nBishop's room. This room is separated \nfrom the others by shutters, with curtains \ndrawing on the chapel side. When I had \nkissed her feet, she desired to know why \n1 cried at my practice in the choir. I \nrather imprudently answered, \" I could \nnot tell; 1 did not cry much.\" (It then \nstruck me. she could not have seen me, \nas I was alone.} I said I was very cold,* \nparticularly my feet ; and I had been prac- \ntising \" Blue-eyed Mary,\" and was af- \n\n\n• The rooms were seldom comfortably wanned, and at times I \nsuffered much from the co!3. \n\n\n144 .SIX MONTHS \n\nfected by the words. She said that what \nI asserted was false, and commanded \nme to tell her the true cause, in a mo- \nment ; and pulling the handkerchief from \nmy hand, she bade me kneel and tell her \nat once, or I should be punished. I was \nso frightened by the threats and manner \nof the Superior, that I sobbed aloud, and \nblood gushed from my nose and mouth. \nShe then seized and shook me by the \narm, and seated me, saying, \" Hush! be \ncalm, or the young ladies may hear you \nas they pass the door to go to their prac- \ntice.\" She asked me again and again to \ntell her why I shed tears in the choir, and \nwhy I felt such a repugnance to commu- \nnicate my thoughts. I replied, because I \nhad made apnomise not to tell, and I could \nnot break it. The Superior turned pale, \nbut suppressing her feelings, bade me break \nthat promise directly, and asked to whom \nI had made it. I replied I could not tell \nany one but my confessor. Says she, em- \nbracing me, \" What ! my dear Sister,- not \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 145 \n\nobey your Superior ! tell me, my dear, \nand I will stand responsible for you be- \nfore the judgment seat. To whom did \nyou make the promise'? — to Mary Mag- \ndalene or Mary Francis ?\" She also asked \nme if I had related all the causes of \nmy discontent in confession. I replied, \n\"Not all,\" and began to weep again. She \nendeavored to console me, saying she \ncould not heal my wounds unless I \nopened my whole feelings to her; and \n•comparing her words to those of our di- \nvine Redeemer, took me by the hand, and \nwith seeming affection told me to unfold \nall my feelings to her, as to an own \nmother : and said she should think it her \nduty to stay by me until I should relate \nthe cause of my grief, that she might \npour into my heart a heavenly balm, &c. \nI told her I had not seen or heard from \nmy friends, to whom I had written. She \nsaid that was nothing to the point ; she \nwas my friend ; and asked me if I called \npersons who insulted the house of God \n7 \n\n\n146 SIX MONTHS \n\nmy friends. I replied, -: No.\" She then \nsaid one person had been there who \ncalled herself my sister, and who threw \npebbles at the Convent. She also men- \ntioned another person, who came with my \nsister, and whom she said she would not \ntake to \" wipe her feet on.'''* After \n\n• I learn from my sister that while I was in the Convent she \nand another young lady went there to invite me to my sister M.'s \nwedding. She asked the portress if I could be seen at that hour, \n•who replied she would see, and asked her to walk in, inquired \nher name, &c., went out, and soon returned with the answer that \nthe scholars were not permitted to come to the parlor that day. \nMy sister told her it was important that she should see me, and \n•he ;ould not come away without. The portress left the room, \nreturned, closed the shutters, retired, and presently the Superior \nentered, walking between two servants, and made signs for my \nsister to approach, inquiring hers and the other lady's names, \nand their business. On being informed, she mentioned that I \ncould not be seen, but she would deliver any message my sister \ndesired ; that the young ladies never violated the rules for \nthe sake of seeing company, and that I did not wish to see any \nworldly friends, or have any communication with them ; that my \nmind was wholly occupied with heavenly things; that I was per- \nfectly happy, and \"growing as fat as butter ;\" that 1 was fast im- \nproving in my studies, learning music, and drawing, (untrue.) In \nronsei|iience of my sister's weeping, and desiring her to name a \nlime wh».ii I c- nil! lie seen the Su; -rior .--:ii,| slie v.-'iu|d so anJ \nh'juirp wh'H'ner ! ili'-ireil to see her. The vji..ri'ir soon rr.urried, \nand told my sister that I did not wish to see her, or any worldly \nralalive ; but the Superior told her that if I chose I could come to \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 147 \n\nmaking this observation, she left me for a \nfew moments, to compose myself. Re- \nturning, she asked if I knew where I \nwas, and if I had concluded to obey her, \nor break my vow of obedience and be \nseverely punished. I answered, \" No ! \nMarnere, I will tell all I can remember;\" \nfor I judged from her threats and looks \nthat I should be confined in a cellar, or \nhave something more severe than usual \ninflicted upon me. The rules of the \nor ler also led me to think so. But not- \nwithstanding my fear of the Superior, I \nstill kept secret the real name of Miss \nMary Francis, and her promise of writ- \ning to Mrs. G. or my friends respecting \nmy situation. She then dismissed me for \na while. But my thoughts soon whispered \n\nthe weddin?. They both left the Convent with the impression \nthat I was a public scholar, and could leavo when I chose ; and \nthought it passing strange that I should refuse to see them, as I \nhad. before cr-ii-ii: to the Convent, requested them to visit me. My \nsi-.irr inuiLMiiei' thai I hail heroine so infatuated with the Calimiic \nrelUriou ^s to lose all sisterly affection for those who were averse \nto it, and went away weeping. \n\n\n148 SIX MONTHS \n\nme that our \" Ghostly Father\" (as our \nDirectory taught us to call him) had made \nthe Superior acquainted with what passed \nin secret confession, because without such \nknowledge she never could have used \nsuch threatening language, and never \ncould have been displeased, as she was, \nat words which I had used in secret con- \nfession alone with the Bishop. She asked \nme how I dared to converse with Mary \nFrancis on the slate. Xow she never \ncould have known this only from the \nBishop. I was never fully aware of their \narts in getting at secrets by confession \nuntil they became too visible to be misun- \nderstood. I then became more reserved, \nand the Superior remarked that 1 did not \nshow so much frankness of manner as \nformerly; the reason of which the \nreader will understand to be, that every \neye was on me. A different course I \ncould not adopt, having lost confidence in \nmy confessor. I did not follow his ad- \nvice, but resolved to follow, as nearly as \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 149 \n\nI could conscientiously, the advice of \nMary Francis, being confident she was \nmy friend. \n\nI felt a repugnance at the idea of re- \nturning to the world, supposing that \nmany would believe me a person roman- \ntic and visionary, and inexperienced in \nthe ways of the world, and therefore unfit \nfor society. And I was also particularly \naverse to taking this step, because of \nthe solemn promise of seclusion which I \nhad taken. Nevertheless, I resolved to \nleave that Convent, and write to Miss \nMary Francis from my friend Mrs. G.'s, \nbut was undetermined whether I should \nreturn to the world. I hud reason to \nthink that my letters were never sent to \nmy friends, and determined to convey one \nprivately. I stole a few moments and \nhastily wrote some lines with my pencil, \nand hid them behind the altar ; but the \nbillet was discovered, and I never heard \nfrom it. \n\nIt was my turn that week to read as \n\n\n150 SIX MONTHS \n\n\"lecturess.\" A book was placed before \nme in the refectory, called \"Rules of Saint \nAugustine,\" and the place marked to \nread was concerning a Religieuse receiv- \ning letters clandestinely. I could not \ncontrol my feelings, for what I read was \nvery affecting. At this time we were di- \nrected to remain in the refectory, instead \nof assembling in the community, and told \nto repeat \" Hail Mary\" before a picture. \nThe Superior and Mother Assistant con- \nsented to have me practise music no \nmore during the cold weather. They \nalso permitted me to wear warmer \nclothing. \n\nOne day as I was sitting alone in the \nrefectory, in the time of silence, the Su- \nperior came in, and after kneeling and ex- \ntending her arms in the form of a cross, \nshe kissed the floor, and rising, walked \ntowards the door ; returning, she seated \nherself on the bench beside me. I asked \nher if I should bring a chair ; she an- \nswered, \" No,\" and inquired how I felt, \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 151 \n\n*nd why I changed color while at tho \ntable. I replied that my month was very \nsore, and it hurt me to read. She wished \nto know what made my mouth sore. I \ntold her I thought it was something I had \neaten. She said, laughingly, it was tho \ncanker, and asked if it was not sent as a \njudgment for some sin. I replied that I \ndid not know ; I had not felt very well for \nsome days, and thought it was partly \nowing to want of exercise. She then \nsent Sister Martha to conduct me into a \nroom at the farther part of the Convent, \nfor the first time, called a \" man fie \nroom.'' There were some Sisters there \nkneeling in devotion, and one turning a \nmachine used for pressing clothes, instead \nof ironing them, called a mangle. Sho \npresented rne with some altar laces, and \ntold me to have them prepared for the \naltar the next day at the ringing of the \nbell. While there T was watched very \nnarrowly ; but as I had gathered from the \nSuperior's conversation, at different times, \n\n\n152 SIX MONTHS \n\nthat the gates were watched by the por- \nters and dogs, which were of great value \nto the Convent, I did not dare, then, to \nmake my escape, but appeared as cheerful \nas possible. The Sisters appeared very \nhappy, it being a day of recreation in the \nCommunity, and the celebration of some \ngreat Saint. The Superior, as she passed \nher portrait, remarked, that she never \nlooked at it but that it reminded her of \nsmiling. She appeared in unusually good \nspirits, and gave us permission to wish \neach other happy feasts, not of luxury \nand feasting, in the common acceptation \nof the terms, but of prayers to the Saints \nto free us from purgatory. In the course \nof the Superior's conversation, she said \nshe had read in the newspapers of a new \nlaw which had been passed, that no per- \nson who was under the age of twenty- \neight or thirty years should be allowed to \nkeep any school. The Mother Assistant \napproved of this law, and said it was \ngood as it would remove the difficulty \n\n\nINA CONVENT. 153 \n\nwhich overseers had with young teachers \nwho were unfit to take charge of a school, \nparticularly the discipline. \n\nI would here confess my fault (if a fault \nit was) of not acknowledging all my ohli- \ngations in secret confession, and of pre- \ntending to think Mary Francis deranged ; \nand also of acquiescing in the Superior's \ncommands in her presence with feigned \nhumility. I did this that my design should \nnot be suspected. \n\nA letter was read to the Community, \nthat was addressed to the Superior, from \nBishop P., of Emrnetsburg. In it he re- \njoiced to learn that the \" Community\" \nwas set free of that person who was de- \nranged, and whose disposition he had \nknown to his sorrow from her youth. He \nlamented the departure of Magdalene, \nwho no doubt was a Saint reigning in \nglory, after what she had been willing to \nsuffer to gain salvation.^ I was sent for \n\n• Since leaving the. Convent I hive written to Mi.ss Mary \nFrancis for information in regard to this letter, but have received \nno satisfactory answer. I have however received from her three \nletters. \n\n\n154 SIX MONTHS \n\nto attend the Superior in the Bishop's \nroom, after Mass. She was folding his \ncassoc and robe. When I entered, she \nbade me do as my Directory taught, and \nsaid I had let trifles make an impression \nupon me, and weak minds only allowed \ntrifles to affect them. Giving me the let- \nter, she bade me tell her what I thought \nof it. I read it, and said 1 could not be- \nlieve what Mary Francis had told me, if \nshe were deranged, but yet I had rather \ngo to the Convent where she was edu- \ncated than stay at that on Mount Bene- \ndict. She asked me if I thought of going \nwithout protection 1 I begged of her to let \nme see some of my friends there, or permit \nme to return to the world. After saying \nshe had sent my letters* to my friends, \nwho, if they wished, could come there and \nsee me, she told me not to trouble myself, \nfor the Bishop would soon be there, and I \ncoulrl talk with him about it.f \n\n• My friends never received any letter frcm me. \n\nt 1 car...ot rainem^er all that passed in confession, for I wai at \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 155 \n\nOne Sabbath after Mass, while we were \nin the choir repeating the examination of \nconscience or monthly review, I was \ncalled in a whisper into the community, \nwith the rest of the Sisters, but pretended \nnot to hear. The others went in while 1 \nremained. I heard the Bishop speak to \nthem as they went in. But I had absented \nmyself from confession and communion \nthat day, and did not wish to see the \nBishop on account of his previous \nlanguage. After the doors had been \nopened several times, one of the Reli- \ngieuse (Sister Martha*') came in and \nknc-Jt with me. The bell then rang, and I \nwent into the refectory, waiting as usual \n\nthis lime much confused ; however, the Bishop asked me how I \nshould like to sro to a Convent in Canada, which I objected lo. \n\n• I will not presume to say much about Sister Martha, as I never \nconversed with her, and therefore was not so able to judge of her \nsufferings, .x MONTHS \n\nlie ?\" I answered, \" You very well know \nI should shrink from such a thing, but I \nshould rather return to the world and ex- \npose myself to its scorn, than remain sub- \nject to the commands of a tyrant.\" \n\" Then,\" said he, \" if you are determined \nto return to the world, you may go to ru- \nin there for all I can do; and rely upon it, \nyou will shed tears of blood in conse- \nquence of the step you have taken, if you \ndo Tiot repent and confess all at the secret \ntribunal of God.\" I told him I should \nconfess to none but God, and that my \nconscience prompted me to do as I had \ndone. He asked me if I would go with \nhim to the Superior, as she wanted to see \nme. I replied, \" No, I will not, for I be- \nlieve you or any other Catholic would (if \ndirected) take rny life, were it in your pow- \ner, as truly as I believe I am living, and 1 \nwill not trust myself in your clutches \nagain.\" At these words he turned pale, \nand asked me what I had seen or heard at \nthe Convent that made me think so. I \nrefused to say more, and retired at his \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 183 \n\nexclamation that it would be death to me. \nMrs. G. endeavored to console me with \nthe assurance that he meant right, and \nthat it would, they feared, be death to my \nsoul. \n\nMrs. G. afterwards accused me of endea- \nvoring, at the time of my escape, to induce \nSister Bernard to leave the Convent. The \nSuperior sent me some articles of wearing \napparel, which for -^ time I was obliged \nto accept. My sister called; she had been \nat the Convent, and was informed that I \nwas at Mrs. G.'s. She was overjoyed to \n&ee me, but much grieved because (as \nshe thought) 1 had refused to see her \nat the Convent. I endeavored to calm \nher, and promised to explain all another \ntime, assuring her my affection was not \ndiminished, and that I should soon visit \nher. I did not then explain to her the \nmanner of my leaving the Convent. It \nbeing late in the evening, she soon re- \nturned home. The Missas K. also called, \nand by their conversation I feared they \nwould inform my father of mv situation, \n\n\n184 SIX MONTHS \n\nbefore I should be well and prepared to \nsee him; and I did not wish to grieve him \nwith a knowledge of what had taken \nplace. Mrs. G. said she expected my \nfather would rave at her for having ad- \nvised me as she had done, if he should \nfind me at her house. \n\nA Catholic lady, who had stood my \nsponsor, and who brought a letter from \nMary Francis,* called, and conveyed me \nto her house in Charlestown, where my \nfather and brother soon found me, and de \nsired I would return to my friends, which \nI did in the evening. Before leaving, \nhowever, I called on Priest B., and told \nhim that I could never think of again \nattending the Romish Church, giving my \nreasons, and adding that I had been de- \nceived in their religion, and in those who \nbelieved it; that I wished to take my \nleave of him, with the hope that he \nwould not think I indulged any wrong \nfeelings towards them, or that 1 desired to \n\n• This letter had baen broken open. \n\n\nIN A CONVENT. 185 \n\ninjure the Romish Church, but sincerely \nhoped they would reform. I told him this \nwhile he sat in the confessional. He re- \nmained unmoved, and would not allow \nthat I had been treated ill. He said that \nI could not but know that the step I had \ntaken would be a great injury to the \nConvent. I assured him that it was not \nto be charged to me, but to the Superior \nand Bishop, who by their conduct had \ncompelled me to take that step. I also \ntold him that I believed it had been his \nintention to deliver me again into their \nhands, but I had broken the chains which \nbound me, and felt free; and that I should \nalways be thankful that I had delivered \nmyself from the bondage of what I should \nconsider to be a Romish yoke, rather than \nthe true cross of Christ. \n\nAfter 1 had returned to my brother's, \nMrs. G. sent to me by her little daughter \nsome money, which she said I had given \nto the Superior. Five dollars of this sum \nand some wearing apparel I considered as \n8* \n\n\n186 SIX MONTHS IN A CONVENT. \n\nnot my own, and sent them back with a \nnote to Madam St. George, stating that I \ndeclined receiving any thing from them as \npresents, but if they would return what \nwearing apparel, &c. belonged to me, it \nwould be properly acknowledged. \n\nAnd now I have endeavored, to the ex- \ntent of my ability, to give a true and \nfaithful account of what fell under my \nobservation during my sojourn among the \nCatholics, and especially during my resi- \ndence at the Monastery on Mount Bene- \ndict. And I leave it with the reader to \njudge of my motives for becoming a mem- \nber of the Ursuline Community, and for \nrenouncing it. \n\nIf, in consequence of my having for a \ntime strayed from the true religion, I am \nenabled to become an humble instrument \nin the hands of God in warning others of \nthe errors of Romanism, and preventing \neven one from falling into its snares, and \nfrom being shrouded in its delusions, I \nshall fool richly rewarded. \n\n\nLETTER TO IRISH CATHOLICS. \n\n[CONDENSED FROM A BOSTON PAPER.] \n\n\nI AM told that it will be of no use to write letters to you, be- \ncause so many of yOu cannot read. But there are also many of \nyou who can read. I write to them ; and I hope they will read rny \nletters to the rest. \n\nBut why have you not been taught to read ? You and your \nforefathers have had Roman Catholic Priests for a thousand years. \nWhat hava they beep, doing? Why have they not taught you, or \ntaken ware to have you taught by others ? What have they dono \nwith all the money which you and your fathers have paid them? \nThey liave built splendid churches at Rome, and bought rich dresses \nfor the Pope and Cardinals to wear, and gilded coaches for them \nto ride in. They have built, and are building, expensive colleges \nand schools, to instruct the children of rich Protestants, hoping to \nmake Catholic Priests of them. Meanwhile, your children, and \nyour father's children, and your grandfather's children, and your \nother ancestors, have been left, to get a little learning as you could, \nor grow up in ignorance. \n\n[s not this all true ? Only think how much money you hava \npaid them yourselves. Do you know what they have done with \nit ? When a Protestant has given a man a dollar for some re- \nligious purpose, he must show what he has done with it, or he wiH \nnever get another. Is it so with you ? Do you know what your \nPriests do with all the money they reca-ve from you? Have not \nyou and your Catholic neighbors paid »\"«m so much, that they \nmight have taught you, and your neighbor,, arid yowr children, to \nread ? If you and your ancestors, for five, hundred years past, \nor two hundred years past, had been Proteslaru* you would have \nbeen taught. \n\nNow, my friends, think, a little while, whether PrieOa who hare \nno shamefully neglected their duty ire worthy of your confidence. \nYou and your fathers have tried them for hundreds o>' yean. \nHave you not tried them long enough ? Is it not time for yew to \n\n\n188 LETTER TO \n\n\nsay your children shall be taught to read ? Is it not time for you \nto choose luch schools for them as you find to be best ? This is a \nfree country. The Priests have no right to con'rol you in the edu- \ncation of your children. \n\nSome of you do send your children to our public schools. The \nteachers tell me that they behave as well, and learn as fast, as \nany children under their care. I am glad to hear it. Your \nchildren, thus educated, will be intelligent and respectable. Some \nof them will be among our great men in another generation. If \nthe Priests will furnish schools for your children which are as good \nas the public schools, you have a perfect right to send your \nchildren to which you please. But see to it that they go to good \nschools, — schools where they learn well. If you are determined \nto send them to such schools, probably the Priests will not object, \nfor they know they cannot help themselves. Perhaps they will \neven encourage you. But whether they do or not, see to it that \nyour children are well educated. \n\nYour Priests tell you, that the Roman Catholic Church is infalli- \nble. Suppose it is so. How do you know what that church \nteaches ? Some three weeks ago a part of the doings of the Council \nof Trent, sanctioned by the Pope's Bull, were published. It was \ncopied from a book published by Roman Catholics, and sanctioned \nby the Roman Catholic authorities in church and state. Yet the \nCatholic Sentinel calls it a \" Protestant slander.\" Now, if such \ndocuments, so published, are not to be depended upon, how are we \nto know, or how can you know, what the Roman Catholic Church \nreally teaches ? Especially, how do those of you who cannot read \nknow what the church teaches ? \n\nDo you say, that your Priests tell you what the church teaches ? \nHow do you know that they tell you truly ? How do you know \nthat they do not deceive you ? How do you know that the Priests \nthemselves know what the doctrines of the church are ? Do you \nbelieve that every Priest is infallible ? Martin Luther was once \na Roman Catholic Priest. Was he infallible? Calvin, too, was \nonce a Roman Catholic Priest. Was he infallible ? Mr. Samuel \nB. Smith, who is now publishing a newspaper, called \" The \nDownfall of Babylon,\" was a Roman Catholic Priest only some \ntwo years ago. Was he infallible ? If they were infallible, then \nthey did right to leave the Roman Catholic Church. \n\nBut you may be told, that these men were apostates — they left \nAe church, and became Protestants. True, they became Protes- \ntants. But if th'- Roman Catholic Church had been right, and they \nwhen Priests had been infallible, they could not hare left it. And \nthen, think of Archbishop Fenelon. He did not leave the church. \nYet he published a book, which the Pope condemned, and he con- \nfessed that it contained erroneous doctrines. Was he infallible \nwhen he wrote that book ? And was the Pops infallible w«i»n ho \ncondemned it ? And was Pension still infallible when V» v '• <** \nIke Pope in condemning it ? \n\n\nIRISH CATHOLICS. 189 \n\nNo, your Priests are not infallible. They may mistake. How \ndo you know that those of them who teach you do not mistake ? \nHow do you know that what they teach is the true doctrine of \nthe church ? How can you know, uulea<< you read the Bible for \nyourselves, and find that the Bible leaches the same doctrines ? \n\nDo your Priests ever tell you to pray to the Virgin Mary, the \nmother of our Lord Jesus Christ ? I suppose they do. You know \nwhether they tell you so or not. How do you know that this is a \ndoctrine of the true Catholic Church ? Do you say, that all Catho- \nlics practise it ? You mean, all Catholics with whom you are \nacquainted. Perhaps there are other Catholics who do not pray \nto her. How do you know ? Do your Priests tell you ? How do \nyour Priests know ? And how do you know that they tell the \ntruth? \n\nI suppose that all Roman Catholics do pray to the Virgin Mary ; \nthought do not see how either you or lean know it infallibly. But \nI suppose that you pray to her here in Boston, and some of your \nfriends pray to her m New York, and others in Pennsylvania, and \nothers in Ohio, and others in Ireland, all at once. Now stop and \nthink for a moment ; — can she hear you all at once ? When you \npray to God, he can hear you, because he is an infinite Spirit, and \nis everywhere at the same time ; but Mary is not God. She is \nnot everywhere at the same time. She cannot listen at once to \na million of people, some here, and some three thousand, and some \nten thousand miles off. Whsn several people speak to you at \nonce, you cannot listen to them all, and understand them all. And \ndo you believe that Mary can listen to a million, who are all speak- \ning at once, in different parts of the world, so as to know what they \nall say ? Do you say the infallible church teaches that she can hear \nthem all? How do you know that the church teaches it ? How do \nyou know that your Priests tell the truth when they say the church \nleaches it? And how do you know that the church is infallible ? \nYou hare only the word of the Priests for it, and perhaps they mis- \nlake. And if the Irue church is infallible, how do you know that the \nChurch of Rome is the true church ? The Priests tell you so ; but \nthey may be wrong. And besides, do you not see that Mary \ncannot listen to a million of prayers at once, so as to understand \nthem all ? Do you not see that this must be an error ? Do you \nnot see that, if the Church of Rome teaches this, it teaches what is \nnot true ? \n\nIf your Priests teach you to pray to Mary, they teach you \nwrong. God says, that \" whoever shall call upon the name of the \nLord shall be saved.\" Romans x. 13. He does not say that who- \never shall call on the name of Mary shall be saved. God teaches \none thing, and your Priests teach another. \n\nI must say a few words to you about images. In the second of \nthe ten commandments, God says, \" Thou shall not bow down \nunto them\" Do you bow down unto them? If you do, you \n\n\n190 LETTER TO \n\n\ndisobey God. If your Priests teach you to bow down unto them, \nthey teach you to break God's commandment. \n\nI could quote to you what Roman Catholic councils have de- \ncreed, and what Pope* have said on this subject ; for I can read \nLatin as well as your Priests. But when I quote what Popes and \ncouncils say, the Sentinel calls it \"Protestant slander.\" Your \ninfallible church has no infallible booka, in which any one can infal- \nlibly learn its doctrines ; at least, I cannot find any, which your \nPriests and editors will allow to be infallible. But no matter. I \nam writing to you, and you know whether they teach you to bow \ndown to images or not. If they do, they teach you to do wickedly ; \nand if you follow such teaching, you offend God. \n\nPerhaps the Priests will tell you, that you do not worship the \nimage, but only worship God by means of the image. But take \nnotice, God says, \"Thou shall not bow down unto them.\" Now, \nsuppose you bow down unto an image for the purpose of worship- \nping God ; still you break God's commandment ; for he says, \" Thou \nshall not bow down unto them.\" When God tells you that you \nmust not do a thing, he never sends Priests to tell you that you \nmust do it If any Priest tells you to bow down before an image, \nyou must know by that that God did not send him. I have been \ntold that Biahop Cheverus some years ago said, in one of his ser- \nmons, that you must have images, because you are so ignorant that \nyou cannot worship without them ; and I have read the words of \nsome Popes and Bishops who speak in the same way. But is this \ntrue 1 Did not God know whether you ought to have images or \nnot, when he said, \" Thou shall not bow down unto them V \n\nBut can you not think of God when you do not see an image ? \nYou know that you can. You can remember how kind he has \nbeen to you, in preserving your lives; in giving you food to eat, \nand raiment to put on ; and in giving his Son to die for you, that \nyour sins may be pardoned. You can feel thankful to him for all \nhis goodness. You can say, heartily, \" O God, I thank tbee for \nall thy goodness to me.\" You can wish him to continue to take \ncare of you, and supply your wants, and forgive your sins, and \nhelp you to keep his commandments. You can think of God, and \nask him to do all these things, without having an image to look at. \nYou know you can. Do it, and that will be worshipping God \nwithout the use of an image. You know you can do it. You are \nnot such great dunces as your Priests and Bishops pretend to think \nyou are. You can worship God without an image ; and you can \nlearn to worship him still better than you now can. \n\nPe.aaps some of your Priests will tell you, that God has given \nno such commandment in respect to images. In some of their \nbooks, in which they pretend to give the whole of the ten com- \nmandments, thry have left out the second, and divided the tenth \ninto two, so as to make out the number. When the Protestants \nfound it out, and told the public of it, the Priesw had other editions \nof the same books published, with all the commandments in them, \n\n\nIRISH CATHOLICS. 191 \n\n\nas they should be. These they show, to prove that the etory about \ntheir leaving out the second commandment is a \" Protestant \nslander.\" Books of both kinds are still in circulation. I do not \nknow which you have, or which your Catholic neighbors have. I \nmention it, that you may not be deceived if you happen to have \none of the false books, or if you have a false Priest, who tells you \nthere is no such commandment. \n\nThink seriously of these things. Remember God's command- \nment, which forbids you to bow down before images. Worship \nhim in your minds, by thinking of him and expressing your \nthoughts. Speak to him. Thank him for his goodness, and ask \nhim for what you need. He will understand you. If you mean \nhonestly, he will know it, and will be pleased with your worship. \n\nYou know whether your Priesta tell you any thing about pur- \ngatory. You know whether you ever gave them any money to \npray, or say mass, for the souls of your friends, who, you sup- \nposed, might be in purgatory. You know whether you ever gave \nthem any money to pray or say mass for your own souls, when \nyou are dead. You know, too, whether they ever told you to give \nmoney lor such purposes. You know about these things. I do \nnot ; but I suppose they teach you that there is such a place as \npurgatory. \n\nNow, how do they know that there is any such place ? How \ndid they find it out ? There U not one word about it in the whole \nBible. God, in the Bible, has not told them that there is any such \nplace. How, then, do they know that there w any purgatory ? \nDo they say, the church has decided it? How do you know that \nthe church\" has decided it? How do you know that it was not \nsome false Pope, or some wicked, heretical council, that made \nthat decision ? Do the Priests tell you ? The Priests are not in- \nfallible. Perhaps they mistake. But if the church did rnako \nsuch a decision, how did the church know ? God did not tell them. \nWe have all God's word in the Bible, and it says not one word about \npurgatory. \n\nHow, then, do the Priests know that there is a purgatory ? Have \nany of them ever been there ? No. Did they ever see any body \nthat had been there '! I think they will not pretend that they hava. \nThe truth U, that there is no such place. \n\nDo you ask me why they tell such a story ? You have a better \nopportunity to know than I have. You know whether they get \nany of your money by telling it. If they do, it may be that they \ntell it for the sake of getting your money. What would you think \nof any body ul*e who should get away your money by telling you \nwhat is not true ? \n\nI do not me:. in to say that all your Priests know that there is no \nsuch place as purgatory. Perhaps some of them believe it; lor \nsome of them are very ignorant. After all the noise they make \nabout thuir Ir-inim;.', some of them have only a little Latin, which \nthey have taari^d by heart without understanding it, arid eannit \n\n\n192 \n\n\nLETTER, &C. \n\n\nread a word of Greek or Hebrew. But if such ignorant Priest* \ndo believe it, that does not make it true. Our Savior tells you not \nto follow such blind guides, lest you both fall into the ditch. \n\nPerhaps you say you are a sinner, and unfit for heaven ; and \nask what you shall do, if there is no purgatory, where you can \nsuffer what you deserve, unless the Priest procures your release \nby saying mass for you. I will tell you. Go into your clo«et. Go \ninto any place where you can be alone. There think of Christ. \nRemember the words of the holy Apostle, written in the Holy \nScriptures, \"the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin.\" Think \nof Christ, who died for your sins. Believe that God is there, and \ncan hear you. Think of your sins. Confess them, honestly, to \nGod. Ask him to forgive you, for Christ's sake. Do not pray to \nMary, or some other Saint, Do not ask any of them to intercede \nwith God for you. Speak to God yourself. Tell him that you are \na shiner. Tell him all the truth about yourself. Ask him to \nforgive your sins. Believe that he is ready and willing to hear \nyour prayer, and to forgive your sins, for the sake of his Son, who \ndied to redeem you. If you really feel sorry that you have sinned, \nand truly wish to serve God hereafter, he will accept and pardon \nyou. Do not be afraid to speak to your heavenly Father. He \nloved you so much as to give his Son to die for you ; and will he \nnot be pleased to hear your prayer and forgive your sins ? Cer- \ntainly he will. Go to him. Confess your sins to him. Ask par- \ndon of him. \"He will forgive you. He will give you his Spirit, to \nlead you in the right way. When you die, he will not send you \nto hell, for you are pardoned ; nor to purgatory , for there is no such \nplace ; but will take you to heaven at once. \n\n\nUniversity of California \n\nSOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY \n\n405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 \n\nReturn this material to the library \n\nfrom which it was borrowed. \n\n\nA 001 306 657 6 \n\n\n","title":"Six months in a convent, or, The narrative of Rebecca Theresa Reed, who was under the influence of the Roman Catholics about two years, and an inmate of the Ursuline convent on Mount Benedict, Charlestown, Mass., nearly six months, in the years 1831-2","updated_at":"2026-09-05T09:59:22.342449Z","urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:six-months-in-a-convent-or-the-narrative-of-rebecca-theresa-reed-who-was-under-the-influence-of-the","version":1,"withdrawn_reason":null},"urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:six-months-in-a-convent-or-the-narrative-of-rebecca-theresa-reed-who-was-under-the-influence-of-the","version_history":[{"change_note":"accessioned from the Internet Archive, item sixmonthsinconve00reediala","changed_by":"archive-ingest 0.1.0","recorded_at":"2026-09-05T09:59:22.645297Z","version":1}]}